"Who?" said I.
"Why, the savages," he said. "They've spied on us. We'd better go back for our spears and things."
I agreed that this was a prudential measure, and we trudged hastily down again to the canoe, and took our spears and bows and arrows, and then retraced our steps, the dog accompanying us. We crept up with exceeding caution until we reached a spot whence we could overlook the hollow in which our house was situated; but or ever we got there we were aware of a red glow, as from a huge fire, and when we came to the summit of the crest and looked down the long slope towards the hut, near half-a-mile away, we saw that in front of it a very large fire was kindled, which lit up all the country around, and on the fringe, so to speak, of the illuminated space certain dark figures moved.
"They've made the fire ready to cook us," says Billy, his voice trembling very much.
"Nay, they're cooking already," I said, and showed him that they had set our great tripod over the fire, and something dangled from it roasting.
"They've stole one of our pigs," said Billy in great anger; indeed, his first fear was now swallowed up in this new emotion. He spoke pretty loud, and the dog, knowing from his manner that something was amiss, began to yelp. I bade Billy hold his peace, for we must creep silently towards the house and discover who these visitors were: and since the dog might betray us if he yelped as we approached, we thought it best to tie him to a tree; he would doubtless yelp there, but the visitors would suppose he was a wild dog. We had just left him tied up when I remembered that if his yelping brought the wild dogs about him he would very soon be torn in pieces, so we had to go back and loose him, and then Billy took him in his arms and said he would keep him quiet, which he did.
We crept along, being careful to take cover from the trees and shrubs, and so not following a straight path, but working round somewhat until we came to the back of our fowl-house, whence we could see and overhear what was going on. But before we got there we had another amazing shock, and a very disconcerting one too, for as we were walking Billy all of a sudden clutched me by the arm and whispered, "That's Hoggett," and then he uttered that profane word which I had never heard upon his lips since the first day we came to the island. And sure enough, when we came to the fowl-house, and could both hear and see them, grouped about the fire beyond it sat or lay or stood a dozen of Billy's once shipmates on the Lovey Susan, the mutinous crew of my uncle's ill-fated vessel. Some of them, being on the farther side of the fire, we could not see clearly: but on this side there was Hoggett, Billy's especial enemy, and Wabberley; and Clums the cook, attending to the fine pig, one of our best, that was roasting; and Chick, and Pumfrey the ship's carpenter, and others whose names I need not write. Billy was for fitting an arrow to his bow and shooting Hoggett that instant, but I forbade him, in a whisper but peremptorily, for the two of us could not hope to get the better of a dozen, when they had firearms too, for I had spied a musket standing against the wall of the hut, near to where Hoggett was lying. Besides, I own I felt a certain tenderness towards these men, rough and brutal, aye, and treacherous, as they were; for they were men of our race and speech, and to hear my own language from the lips of Wabberley brought back to me those evenings when he feasted my uncle with his stories, so that he gave me thoughts of home. However, I felt a natural indignation at seeing these uninvited guests making free with our property, and after hearing somewhat of their talk I ceased to feel any kindness towards them.
They were talking, I soon discovered, about the house and its owners, and Hoggett declared that he was certain sure it belonged to savages, an opinion which Wabberley instantly controverted.