Keeping to the south slope of the hill until the tree-tops shut out the sight of the approaching vessel, the fugitives returned to the camp.
There was much to be done in a very short time. The tent was levelled and packed up in the smallest possible compass. The canvas between the two upturned parts of the broken life-boat was removed. The hot embers of the dying fire was carefully scattered, lest they might kindle into flame and smoke. Then, heavily laden with stores and provisions, the four hastened towards the cave.
"One minute, sir!" exclaimed Jasper, stopping short in his tracks and setting down his burden. "If us ain't forgotten the li'l ole cask o' rum."
Burgoyne glanced behind towards the lagoon, a small portion of which was visible through the glade.
"Too late, now," he replied. "The schooner's passing through the reef. Yes, she has an engine right enough. The water-tank must have given us away. Come along, Jasper; you've seen the last of your li'l ole cask, I'm thinking."
There was a stubborn look on Minalto's bronzed and bearded face as he reluctantly re-shouldered his burden. It went sorely against the grain, this tame surrender of what he considered to be his property by finding.
"Come along!" repeated Burgoyne sternly.
"Ay, ay, sir," replied Minalto; then under his breath he added: "an' I hope th' li'l ole cask'll poison the lot o' they."
It was now a slow and cautious business getting the stores and gear into the cave, and in spite of every care Burgoyne noticed with concern that the tracks under the scrub were by no means covered. A keen Malay tracker would be able to find their retreat with little difficulty. The only hope lay in the fact that the crew of the schooner were unskilled in woodcraft, and that the broken twigs and brushwood would escape notice.
"Here's our present abode, Miss Vivian," announced Burgoyne, when the four and their portable property were inside the cave, a couple of candles lighted, and a double sheet of canvas hung across the entrance to screen any gleam from within.