Still, the fact that the boat was tied showed that it had not merely drifted to the spot. Some human agency must have been about at some time or other.
With Russ and Paul in the lead the little party made their way to the palm leaf hut. It was ingeniously made—a glance showed that. A palm tree had been taken for the centre pole, and about this had been tied layer after layer of palm leaves, so laid as to shed the rain.
The hut was circular, and at the outer edge of the roof poles had been driven into the ground to support it. There was a small opening, which necessitated stooping to enter, and this doorway, if such it could be called, was covered by a sort of curtain of palm leaves, made in layers and fastened together with withes and wild leaves, laced in and out.
"Quite a piece of work!" commented Paul. "Now I wonder how one is to knock at a palm leaf door?"
"Don't knock—call," suggested Russ, and, raising his voice, he fairly shouted:
"Is anyone here?"
There was no answer.
"I wonder if it would be impolite to open the door, or the curtain, and look in?" suggested Alice.
"Under the circumstances—I think not," answered Mrs. Maguire. "We need help, and this is the first sign we have seen of it."
Russ stepped forward, and, after a moment of hesitation lifted the curtain of palm leaves. The interior of the hut was rather dark, and, for a moment he could see nothing.