Proceeding along the shore, picking his way carefully because of the mist, he had walked for about a quarter of a mile when he came suddenly upon a sampan, and halted, fearing that it might belong to the enemy. But as he stood there surrounded by the clinging fog, he heard Errington's voice apparently only a few yards away. The explanation flashed upon him at once. They were on a small island, encompassed by a continuous screen of reeds. This was in a measure reassuring, for it diminished the risk of being discovered.
He moved forward. Errington saw a figure looming through the mist, and instantly challenged.
"It's all right, Pidge. I've made a tour of the place; it's an island. Any luck?"
"Yes, I've found a cranky pair of bellows, very Chinese, in one of the huts. We can start our forge at once.... Hullo!"
The exclamation was provoked by the sound of a shot in the distance.
"What's that mean, I wonder?" said Burroughs.
"Don't know. Shooting a duck for breakfast, perhaps. It's pretty clear that the beggars haven't given us up. When we start hammering they'll hear us and are sure to find us out."
"Better carry the stove into one of the huts and shut yourself up there. The sound will be deadened then. I wish now I'd brought my engineer; he'd have made a better job of it than you and Lo San; I can't help, I'm sorry to say; my wretched arm is as stiff as a poker."
"I've taken off the broken stay; half-an-hour's work ought to finish the job as soon as we get the fire going. This mist is a godsend; they can't see our smoke."
"Well, you take the two boys to lend a hand in the hut, while I keep an eye on Chung Pi and listen for the enemy."