“What is that?”
“Whenever you wake in the night, get up and come and have a turn round the deck. It will keep the men well to their work if they feel that at any time they may be overhauled.”
“What was that?” said Dutch, softly; and he laid his hand upon the captain’s arm.
They both stood listening intently, and gazing in the direction whence the sound had come.
The night was now intense in its darkness, and for reasons of their own—being, of course, far out of the track of ships—no lights whatever were shown; even those in the cabins were out, or so arranged that they would not attract attention if a wandering savage should have drawn up his canoe on the beach. The stars glittered overhead, but the greater part of the sky was overcast, and the heat seemed to portend a storm; but all was perfectly still, except the low, soft wash of the water as it broke upon the sands, and bathed them with the pale gold phosphorescence.
“I heard nothing,” said the captain, softly. “I’m afraid, Dutch Pugh, that we have frightened ourselves rather too much. All we need fear now is the weather. Perhaps we might have a little trouble with the Indians if they found us out; but we could easily keep them at bay.”
“I certainly heard an unusual sound,” replied Dutch. “Let’s walk quietly forward.”
They walked towards the bows, and as they did so a dark figure that had been lying a couple of yards from Dutch, close beneath the bulwarks, glided softly away, like some huge snake. So dark was it that it was hard to distinguish the outlines, and to trace where the figure went, while its movements were so silent that the two watchers saw nothing.
They went and spoke to the man leaning over the bows, who proved to be Dick Rolls.
“Heard anything?” said the captain, going up so silently that the man started.