Ten minutes later they reappeared, recrossed the sward, and entered the woods, again making, evidently, for the eastern beach.
“They are gone,” said Katafa, “but let us still keep hidden, for they may return.”
Dick, without answering, stood listening. “No,” said he; “they are gone, but they will not return yet.”
He pushed his way through the branches to where the boat was hidden, fetched out a fishing line, caught a robber crab, and, using its flesh for bait, came out and began to fish from the bank in the full light of day. A bream was in the hook in a couple of minutes, and, leaving it for Katafa to clean and prepare, he went straight across the sward to the old fire-hole and began to light a fire.
Then, putting some bread-fruit to bake, he made off behind the house to the shack that the search party had missed, found the old water beaker of the dinghy, filled it at the little well at the back of the yam patch, and returned with it on his shoulder.
He placed it carefully in the boat; then he came back to where Katafa was cooking the fish, and stood with his brow knotted, watching, but scarcely seeing her.
He was reviewing everything in his mind, that mind so simple, yet so straight-thinking and clear-sighted; another person might have been bothering about the strangers and the possibility of their return to the sward, he was thinking of nothing but the journey ahead and the meal in hand.
Having determined to risk being found, he dismissed the matter from his mind.
After standing for a moment like this he suddenly turned, went back to the bank and, having rebaited the hook with the remains of the crab, began to fish again, landing in the course of five minutes or so a three-pound schnapper and another bream. “For to-morrow,” said he as he threw them on the ground by the girl and sat down to the meal she had prepared.
Katafa said nothing. Fear was at her heart, she could scarcely eat; every breath of the breeze was a footstep, and the hateful woods that surrounded the sward seemed only waiting to seize her, but she said nothing. The calm, certain courage of Dick bore her along with it, his coolness became part of her, but without destroying the fear that breathed on her from the woods.