Fitz turned sharply round when he was addressed, from where he was standing with the carpenter, after noting that here and there at a distance a tiny fire was burning, indicating the different posts between them and the enemy, and just before Winks had come hurriedly up to him and given him a nudge.
“I arn’t got them set up yet, sir,” he whispered, “but I’ve made four. Not much to look at, but they will be all right. Two crossed sticks, bamboos, blankets, and them Spanish hats. There’s two Sallys and two Guys. The Sallys has got the blankets right over the tops with the hats down close. They looks just like old women a little way off.—Going back again, sir?”
“Yes,” replied Fitz. “We shan’t be very long this time.”
“All right, sir. I shall have the traps set by the time you come again. My word! I should like to be there when the Span’ls finds they are nothing but a set of paddies. I should like to hear the words they said. It would be something pretty in bad Spanish, I’ll be bound.”
“Now, Mr Burnett,” cried the skipper sharply, and somehow feeling as if he were one of the schooner’s officers, the middy hurried off, helping to guide the party, consisting of Don Ramon’s followers all but two, and succeeding in reaching the wharf without an adventure, the boat coming up at once on hearing their approach, and in a very short time loaded gunwale down, gliding off along the swift stream.
“That’s one lot,” said Poole excitedly, as the stern of the boat disappeared. “Well, we had no orders, but of course we’ve got to go back for another lot and bring them down. I suppose we shall have them here long before the empty boat returns from the schooner.”
“It will be a stiff pull against the stream,” said Fitz.
“Yes, but empty, and I made them fully understand that they were to start back after shipping the men and communicating with old Burgess. I think that will turn out all right.”
It did, and in due time a second load was despatched to the schooner, forming half the human cargo she would have to bear.
They were anxious times during these journeys in the boat. All was going well, but at any moment the fiction of the watchers by the fires might have been discovered, and the enemy come on to the attack upon a force weakened first by one-fourth, then by half, and later on by three-fourths of its number, the danger increasing at a terrific ratio for those who were left. At last, still keeping manfully to their posts, the last portion—the last quarter of the little force—stood waiting, nearly all English, those of Spanish descent consisting of Don Ramon and his most staunch adherent.