The firing from the lelah was kept up at intervals, but every shot went over them, whether fired point-blank or made to ricochet from the sands. There was tremendous bustle and excitement on board the prau, but no fresh attempts were made to land, and as the long, hot, weary hours crept on the question rose as to what would be the enemy’s next move.
“They’ll wait till dusk and attack us then,” said Mr Gregory.
“No,” said the major, “I think not. These people never seem to me to be fond of night work. I think they’ll wait till the tide rises and then go back.”
“Without destroying our boat?” said Morgan.
“Yes, my lad. It’s bad warfare to leave an enemy behind; but you’ll see that is what they’ll do.”
The major proved to be right, for after a time the prau began to move slowly round, and they saw it go back leisurely, the great sweeps dipping in the calm blue sea and an ever-widening line left behind.
“That’s one to us, my lads,” said the major, “and next time it’s our play.”
The men gave a cheer, and Small rose and came forward.
“Lads says, sir,” he began respectfully, “that if it were all the same to you they’d like me to pipe down to dinner.”
“Of course,” said Gregory. “Where are the provisions?”