Barnes mechanically felt for his pipe, filled it, and held a match to it.
"No," he said, his voice bitter. "We'd have won if we'd got their rifles and killed that devil, Lim Tock. We only drove him off—and we've lost, absolutely. Leave the spars here ashore, John; put the canvas aboard—that's right. Lay her on the canvas, Nora, and take it easy. You'll need the sails for a covering against the night-mist."
When she had made the unconscious girl comfortable with the canvas, Nora Sayers rose and stepped ashore, where the three children were already ranging happily.
"What do you mean?" she demanded. "How have we lost?"
Barnes jerked his pipe to seaward.
"They're bound to silence us at all costs, aren't they? Sure. They've plenty of men aboard the junk and those other boats. It'll probably remain calm until sunrise, now, and we can't possibly get to sea. We can use only two oars. The inference is obvious."
She could not mistake it, and nodded slowly. Barnes turned to the two Chinese.
"Any idea where we are, John?"
Hi John nodded, and squatted in the sand with a stick. In the sand he drew several converging lines, designed to represent the delta and mouths of a large river. He pointed to one, then indicated the river beside them.
"I think Bulungan River," he said. "We go up, bimeby we come topside. Big river."