It was Captain Akers who spoke, fifteen minutes later. In that time Cal had wriggled out of his own bonds and freed the others. Our party now stood in the shadows of the grove, while clearly borne to them came the shouts and yells of the still excited tribesmen.
"Once on board her we can institute a search for Ding-dong and Joe," whispered Nat. "They cannot be so very far off, unless they pulled direct for the gorge."
"Well, let's vamoose then, at once," struck in Cal. "No sense in lingering. Those Kanakas think we are tied too securely to bother with us, but who knows that one of them might take a notion into his ugly head at any minute to come and look at us to make sure."
"That's right," agreed Nat. "Lead the way then, Captain, we will follow."
Without more ado the captain struck off into the undergrowth, his two companions pushing along behind him. But as they plunged from the clearing into the brush, as ill luck would have it, Captain Akers' foot struck one of the savages who had chosen that spot to take a quiet nap.
The fellow leaped to his feet with a yell that rang echoing all about. The next instant Captain Akers' fist crashed into the man's face and he measured his length. But the mischief had been done. Like a pack of hounds in full cry, most of the tribe came rushing toward the spot to ascertain the cause of the outcry.
"Come on. It's a run for life now!" panted the skipper, dashing off.
The others followed as quietly as possible, but still they could not avoid making some noise as they traversed the tangle.
To men as keenly trained in the primitive senses as the savages, it was thus an easy matter to follow them.
"Heaven grant the boat is there or we are lost men," breathed the captain, as they sped along with the savage yells ringing out menacingly behind them. It was indeed, as the captain had said, a run for life.