As it chanced, the Saaran wreckers saw nothing of all this; and as the splashing sounds, which otherwise might have reached them, were drowned by the louder sough of the sea, they returned toward their encampment in a state of perplexity bordering upon bewilderment.
Chapter Thirty One.
Once more the mocking Laugh.
After a good deal of scrambling and struggling, our adventurers succeeded in getting clear of the quicksand, and planting their feet upon firmer bottom, a little nearer to the water’s edge. Though at this point more exposed than they wished to be, they concealed themselves as well as they could, holding their faces under the water up to the eyes.
Though believing that their enemies were gone for good, they dared not as yet wade out upon the beach. The retiring pursuers would naturally be looking back; and as the moon was still shining clearly as ever, they might have been seen from a great distance.
They felt that they would not be safe in leaving their place of concealment until the horde had re-crossed the ridge and descended once more into the oasis that contained their encampment.
Making a rough calculation as to the time it would take for the return journey, and allowing a considerable margin against the eventuality of any unforeseen delay, the mids remained in their subaqueous retreat without any material change of position.
When at length it appeared to them that the coast was clear, they rose to their feet and commenced wading towards the strand.