Every cottage was empty. The savages had fled to the forest, nor in its dark recesses could any trail be found visible to white men's eyes.
So the men, in some sort of skirmishing order, but almost within touch of each other, went on and on up the wooded defile, expecting to be attacked at any moment.
Nearly at the top of the glen, suddenly out from the black darkness of a small cave sprang the most hideous-looking old hag of a naked savage anyone had ever looked upon.
She stood upon a ledge of a rock, and stretched a skinny arm towards Guilford.
"What seek you, white man?"
"Who are you, and where are the rest of the tribe?" shouted the officer.
"I one witch. I been Queensland. You not come kidnap poh Gwalee once moh? Ha, ha, ha. I too ole now, and ugly. My tribe gone ober de sea in big, big war canoe. You seek you white sailor? He down in de ribber pool."
Near by, under the cliff, was a still, brown pool in the stream, and from this was fished out poor Tom's body, the neck half severed with a battle axe.
Poor Tom, it was his last adventure on this shore.
The island, which was not large, was searched from end to end, but no other human body was found.