Miguel lay nearest him. The Spaniard, quickly grasping the danger, shook his men awake while Grahame ran below to Macallister.
"The government spies!" he said briefly. "Our pilot's turned traitor!"
CHAPTER X
THE PEON PILOT
Grahame and Macallister stood on deck, peering into the moonlit jungle of mangroves. So far as they could judge, there was only one pair of oars making the splashes that had aroused them; but they could hear the blades dig deep into the water with an intense effort that could mean only haste on the part of the boatsman.
They waited; and presently the small boat appeared in the moonlight and they saw a single figure, who dropped one oar and crossed himself religiously.
"Gracias a Dios!" he said.
"The pilot!" Macallister gasped.
Grahame waited, tense and alert, until the pilot climbed on board. The instant the half-breed touched the deck he began gesticulating wildly and talking so rapidly that Grahame had difficulty in grasping his meaning. Miguel, who was more at home in the peon Spanish, explained—in English, for Macallister's sake.
"The government men catch him; make him tell; he escape; take short path—Indian senda; get here first. Soldados coming. We hurry!"