“One of us must go back,” said Mark, “and try to meet them that way. I will go.”
“No,” said Mrs O’Halloran; “the force is so small it cannot be divided. They may not be coming back that way; and if they do, we must hope and pray that they will be keeping a sharp look-out.”
“But they may come right back to the camp and find the Malays in possession.”
“If they are in possession,” said Mrs O’Halloran, “it would be impossible for you to get along by them to give our party warning.”
“Do you think I could get round at the back through the jungle?” said Mark, addressing Jimpny.
“No,” said the latter. “I’ve tried it lots of times. You couldn’t get a quarter of a mile through the woods in a day. There’s no getting in till you come to the little river.”
“And that is past the camp,” said Mark sadly. “Ah!”
The ladies clung together, for at that moment they realised a sensation as if some monstrous roller were running slowly along beneath the sands and the roots of the trees. The ground heaved like a wave of the sea, the cocoa-nut trees rocked and bent their heads together just as the ears of corn do when a breeze sweeps over a field, and then all was still once more, save that a low muttering sound as of thunder ran along over their heads, leaving them all giddy, and feeling as if the qualms of sea-sickness were coming on.
They were to a certain extent familiar with such phenomena, and the minute it was over the dread it caused was swallowed up by that which was pursuing them, for a glance through the tree-trunks showed that the Malays were still coming on.
Mark hesitated for a moment or two, and then feeling that Mrs O’Halloran’s prompt soldierly advice was for the best, he accepted it, and led the way.