For a while, it looked as though they were trapped on the island. The natives didn't dare to attack again, but no hunting party was safe, and the food supply was dropping. They had gotten on the island only by the help of the natives, who had ferried them over on rafts. But getting off was another thing, now that the natives were hostile. Cutting down trees to build rafts might possibly be managed, but during the loading the little company would be too vulnerable to attack.
The commander was seated bleakly in the hut he had taken as his headquarters, trying to devise a scheme for getting to the mainland, when the deadlock was finally broken.
There was a flurry of footsteps outside, a thump of heavy boots as one of the younger officers burst into the room.
"Commander!" he yelled. "Commander! Come outside!"
The commander leaped to his feet. "Another attack?"
"No, sir! Come look!"
The commander strode quickly to the door. His sight followed the line of the young officer's pointing finger.
There, outlined against the blue of the sky, was a ship!
The news from home was encouraging, but it was a long way from being what the commander wanted. Another hundred men and more carriers had been added to the original company of now hardened veterans, and the recruits, plus the protection of the ship's guns, were enough to enable the entire party to leave the island for the mainland.