They retraced their steps through the burnt village, Hoole and Trentham walking side by side, the two seamen following.
'I wondered why the fellow spelt his name to us; you remember? H-a-a-n,' said Trentham. 'It's clear as daylight now. He 's a German; was on that raider; a petty officer, I suppose; his name 's Hahn.'
Hoole whistled under his breath.
'They played some devilry with the natives, I suppose,' Trentham went on; 'burnt their village, very likely; Hahn strayed and got collared--and we saved one of the ruffians who sunk us!'
'And he 's got away and rejoined--with my watch!' cried Hoole. 'What an almighty fool I was! And I gave him five minutes' extra sleep! That stings, Trentham, and will till my dying day.'
'He beat us: in slimness the Hun always will. I haven't a doubt he was playing tricks with us all the time. His Mushroom Hill--faugh!'
'You mean?'
'I mean that I don't believe that's our way at all. He reckoned on our getting hopelessly lost--starving--falling into the hands of the savages.'
'Well, for my part, I 'd as soon fall into their hands as the Germans'. You don't think he 'll send the Huns after us, then?'
'Not he! I don't suppose he 'll mention us, thinking us well out of the way. He 'll probably pitch some tall yarn about his clever escape from the cannibals--very likely write a book about it. Upon my word, Hoole, after what we know----'