He came suddenly in view of a great round pool of water in the midst of which was a tiny island, thickly wooded. Just in front of him a fire burned low on a beach of white sand.
Upon the beach, his back to Jonstone, stood a tall, thin man who appeared to be gazing at the island. Suddenly this man began to shout aloud:
"She's on the island! She's on the island!"
From the woods came the sound of crashings, scramblings, and oaths, and, one by one, three fat men, very sweaty and crimson in the face, came reeling out on the beach, and ranged themselves with the thin man, and looked drunkenly toward the island.
"She's hiding on the island, the cute thing," said the thin man.
"Did you see her?"
"I saw the bushes move. That's where she is."
"How deep's the water?"
"I'll tell you in about a minute," said the thin man. He threw his coat from him, and, sitting down with a sudden lurch, began to unlace his boots.
"Maybe you don't know it," he said, "but I'm some swimmer, I am."