They had landed at one end of the beach. The first object Martin's curious eyes encountered was the "Elephant Head." John Winters' directions ran in his mind—"south end beach, in elephant head." That curiously fashioned jutting rock was the elephant head; cleanly sculptured were the rounded head, slab ears, arched trunk, all gigantic. Beneath the rock-snout was a narrow slit about six feet high by half as wide. It was, Martin knew, the entrance the whaleman had written of.
But Martin had little time to inspect the beach. Ichi commanded dispatch. Martin noticed with surprise that as soon as Ichi touched foot on the sand, his accustomed phlegm was replaced by visible nervousness.
Ichi ordered, and the four sailors ran the boat up on the beach. Then, Moto leading the way, carrying the two lanterns, they all trooped toward the cave entrance.
Martin used his eyes as he walked. There were, he saw, many cave openings on a level with the beach. One in particular was a gaping cavern. Ichi, by his side, and talkative, indicated this place.
"Where we lived," he informed. "Very nasty place—damp, and of coldness. But our torches were poor, and driftwood of much scarceness, so we dare not investigate greatly the interior for better place. Our wood was all gone, and we feared muchly we must break up the boat, when Fate with so great a kindness sent the honorable Dabney to rescue us."
"A queer rescue, you murderous little wretch!" thought Martin. But aloud, he said, "What did you live on?"
They had fallen behind the others. Martin considered swiftly whether or not to fall upon his companion now. He was certain he could get the gun, and commence shooting, before the others assailed him. But he decided promptly that it would not do. They would witness the affair from the ship.
"Oh—we eat the gulls," replied Ichi. "And the shell-fish, and a seal that was dead—ah, he was long dead and of great nastiness! But mostly it was the shell-fish. See the many shells on the sand?"
Martin looked. He gulped a swift, deep breath to keep from crying out, and stopped dead in his tracks. He stared into the yawning mouth of the cave Ichi was speaking about, his heart thumping furiously. Good Heaven! Had he seen a ghost? Was it a crazy trick of his overwrought mind? Or had he actually beheld, for a fraction of a second, a white face framed in the dense gloom of the cave's interior? But that face!
"Ah—but do not pause, my dear Mr. Blake," said Ichi with a hint of sarcasm. "It is of great interest, I know, but the view that awaits you as we seek the ambergris inside, is of much more interestness. Come! See, our dear Moto has the lanterns lighted!"