"No; but I can smell something. Smells like spoiled gasoline. Does gasoline ever spoil, Ris?"
"Not to my knowledge. But come; let's crawl into the boat and get the blankets out. Wherever we are, it's our hotel, and we must make the best of it."
Skyward, there could be distinguished the mountain at the west and the rock hills at the east; but the pocket in which they lay was black as ink. From the boat Orissa managed to open the aluminum chest and take out the blankets. They then arranged a temporary bed in the bottom of the boat and covered themselves up.
"Anyhow, I managed to save the Aircraft," sighed Orissa, contentedly. Then she sat bolt upright and cried: "Listen!"
"The battle's on," answered Sybil, as a succession of wild shouts reached their ears. It was very aggravating to be so ignorant of what was happening to their friends. The shouts continued, at intervals, but there was no sound of firearms. Evidently the Mexicans had gained the deck but had found it a barren victory. On the mountain the owls were hooting and flying about as usual, but the shouts that had come from the bay were of such a different nature that the shrieks of the night-birds did not drown them.
Suddenly a broad streak of light shot over them, rested a moment on the mountain, swayed to right and left and then sank below the ridges of rock. Above the bay where the Salvador was beached thin shafts of white light radiated, illuminating the sky like an aurora borealis.
"A searchlight!"
"The torpedo boat!" the girls cried in one breath; and then they sat trembling and straining their ears to listen.
A dull, angry "boom!" rent the air and echoed from the mountain. It was a warning gun from the Mermaid. The shouts became screams of fear. Then silence followed, complete and enduring.