Both pricked their ears, took their bearings; and softly, with stealthy tread they sneaked forward in the direction of the sound. Presently, they almost stumbled over a boat which lay on the beach with its stern half under water.
“The ‘djoekoeng,’ ” muttered Than Khan.
Directed by the moaning sound they groped along the boat which was but a hollowed tree. Its bamboo sail-wings were lying close by smashed all to pieces by the wind and water; and a few steps further on they discovered two human beings lying prostrate in the rank grass.
“Who is there?” called Liem King as he cautiously drew nearer.
“It is I,” replied a very feeble voice in answer to the challenge.
“I? who is I?” asked the Chinaman.
“I, Ardjan,” was the answer.
“What?” cried Liem King, “Ardjan of the Kiem Ping Hin.”
A faint cry at these words issued from the lips of one of the castaways.
“Silence,” whispered the other Chinaman.