“Ha! yonder is the lake,” cried Halcott; “and now we shall see the place where my dear girl and her mother were imprisoned; and, Tandy,” he added, “we may find gold.”
Close here, by the green banks of the little lake, and in a grove, much to their astonishment, they found a canoe.
To all appearance it had been recently used, for there were the marks of feet on the grass, and in the canoe—a black dug-out—were a native tomahawk, a kind of spear or trident, and fishing-hooks of bone, most curiously formed, and evidently only recently used.
“Look to your guns now, lads,” said Halcott, “and keep out of sight; that island is inhabited.”
Just at that moment, as if in proof of what he said, a slight wreath of smoke came curling up through the foliage of a large-leaved banana grove on the tiny island.
A council of war was immediately held. The question to be debated was: should two of their number enter the canoe and row boldly off to the grass hut, the top of which could be seen peeping grey over the green of the trees?
This had been Tom Wilson’s proposition. He and Chips, he said, would run the risk. There could not be many savages on the island. With revolvers in their hands they need not fear to advance under cover of the rifles of Captain Halcott and Mr Tandy.
“Poisoned arrows,” said Halcott, shaking his head, “speed swiftly from a bush. Spears, too, fly fast, and the touch of either means death!
“No, my good fellows, we must think of some other plan. I cannot afford to have you slain. If one or two savages would but appear, we could make signs of peace, or hold them up with our rifles.”