The events of the next hour were shadowy as the dawn to Elsie. She knew that her lover placed men in each of the canoes, that the life-boat itself was crowded, and that it began the seaward journey after the others had started. She followed his explanation that if one of the lighter craft got into difficulties at the Indian barrier, the big, heavy boat would be able to extricate it. But she feared neither Indians nor sea. Had Courtenay proposed to sail away into the Pacific she would have listened with placid approval. She was by his side; that sufficed. For the rest, they lived in the midst of adventures. What did it matter if they were called on to run the gauntlet of one more ambuscade—or a dozen, if it came to that?
But they sped out of the twilight into the morning glory of the open bay, and never a savage hoot disturbed the echoes. Some of the Alaculofs had dragged a couple of canoes from beneath the trees and raced off toward the village; others had followed a coast path known only to them, while, if there were watchers by the side of that mysterious river which flowed both ways with the tide, they kept a silent vigil, awed by the force arrayed against them.
As the life-boat emerged into the estuary under the vigorous sweep of six ash blades, Elsie’s wondering glance rested on the brown plumpness of a three-quarters naked girl who was gazing at Suarez with wistful, glistening eyes, much as Joey was regarding his master. In the intense, penetrating light of sunrise, the bedaubed and skin-clothed Argentine was the most unlovely object that ever captivated woman. Yet he satisfied the soul of this Fuegian maid, so what more was there to be said?
Courtenay caught the happy little sigh, half laugh, half sob, with which Elsie announced her discovery of the idyl in the canoe.
“We owe a lot to that young person,” he said. “None of us could make out a word she uttered when first we saw her. She loses what small amount of Spanish she can speak when she becomes excited, and it was sheer good fortune that some of the crew were with her when she swung herself down the side of the cliff to warn us of our danger; otherwise she might have been shot. I suppose Suarez told you what to expect?”
“You might as well be talking Alaculof yourself for all I can follow what you are saying,” murmured Elsie happily.
“Then how did you know where to tie up? We went too far. We lost the boat that way, and my gun as well. We had to jump for it, and it was only the boat’s stout timbers which enabled her to live through that boiling pot in the volcano. The native girl said that no Indian-built craft ever came back.”
“Excellent!” said Elsie. “When we reach the ship I shall write down everything you tell me. After a time I shall begin to understand.”
Whereupon, Courtenay took thought, and explained that the channel which flowed through that amazing cut in the cliff led to the crater of an extinct volcano, into which the sea poured twenty feet of water each tide. An almost everlasting maelstrom raged within, as the water entered by a side-long channel, and sent a whirlpool spinning with the hands of the clock until the enormous cistern was full, and against them until it was empty. The sailors had taken refuge on a wide, sulphur-coated ledge high above the vortex, and the presence of several skeletons showed that many an unfortunate had sought a last shelter there against pursuit. Every Alaculof knew of this retreat, but few dared approach it, as the roar of the water far below appalled them. There was only one path; when the hunters closed that their prey was safe. The alternative to capture was death by starvation. The Chileans, and he himself during the past fourteen hours, had subsisted on a bag of dried berries stolen by the girl when she first led the sailors thither.
“Didn’t you see how eager we all were to search the lockers?” he asked. “But the rascals had cleared every scrap when the boat fell into their hands again with the falling tide.”