"Ask your grandmother! I'm fed up; scratched all over, too. I'll not try this again without a luminous compass. Let's get back."
It was nearly two o'clock before they trudged wearily into camp.
"Any luck?" asked Warrender, still doing sentry-go.
Pratt related what had happened.
"Well, I'm glad for once I lost the toss," said Warrender, smiling. "We'll certainly get a luminous compass, and I fancy we'd be the better for a few lessons from the Boy Scouts."
CHAPTER XV
UNDERGROUND
The change of camp had relieved the boys of one irksome tie. There was no longer any need for a constant guard. The barbed wire, and Warrender's patrolling of the camp, were merely ruses for the deception of the enemy. Next morning, therefore, for the first time since their arrival, all three went off together in the motor-boat, to make a trip down the river and along the coast westward. They threw a keen glance at Rush's hut as they turned the point. Its door was closed; nobody was about; and the only human being they saw in the course of their expedition was one solitary figure moving slowly along the top of the cliff--possibly a coastguard.
They lunched on the boat, and did not return until afternoon. Leaving the others to prepare tea, Warrender went on to the village, bought a small luminous compass, and an electric torch from Blevins's miscellaneous stock, and a few buns at the baker's. When he regained the camp, his companions reported that there was no sign of its still being kept under observation--by this time the enemy was probably persuaded that their only wish was to be left alone. While they were having tea, Rush rowed slowly past, going down stream. He did not turn his head towards them, but Pratt declared that he had given them a sly glance out of the tail of his eye.
To keep up appearances, they decided that one of them should remain on guard that night as before. The lot fell upon Pratt. At nightfall the others, equipped with the compass and torch and two short stout sticks, put off in the pram, and, landing on the island, without much difficulty struck their old clearing--now clearer than ever, and redolent of smoke and fire---and wound their way to the ruined cottage. The moaning sounded more eerie than they had yet heard it, rising and falling with the fitful gusts.