“Nux says the natives number many thousands, and they have decreed death to all strangers. But who knows, Joe? We may see the city after all.”
As he was about to reply we heard the far-off crack of rifles—a regular volley—and knew the sound came from the cove. After that there was deep silence.
The struggle had begun.
CHAPTER VIII
THE REEF PATROL
Because no sound of any sort now came to our ears we were beginning to worry about the fate of our men when Bry joined us on deck. He said the Faytans did not shout when they fought. They uttered no war cry of any sort, but went into battle silently and if slain died without a murmur. Victory was accepted with the same stoicism, so it was impossible for us to tell how the battle had gone. That Ned Britton’s party had met the natives there was no doubt. The shots told us that. Only time could disclose the result.
My father and Uncle Naboth had come on deck and soon young Alfonso joined our anxious group.
“I hope your men didn’t provoke a battle with the islanders,” said the latter. “My father and I depend on them for assistance in getting away from here.”
“They’ll be glad to assist you to get to glory,” replied Uncle Naboth, “for that’s their best stunt. Haven’t you been told these Faytans, or Pearl People, as our blacks call ’em, decree death to any who land on this island?”
“Oh, that’s Nux’s story; but I don’t believe it,” said the boy. “When we tell them who we are they’ll be sure to treat us decently.”
“Do you suppose they’ve ever heard of Colombia?” I asked.