His orders were quickly carried out. Meanwhile, not a quarter of a mile away, were the Chief and the owners of the village, who, upon seeing the smoke and the flames, appeared to be frantic. No doubt they regarded it as a sign that the village was doomed, but they were soon reassured by the time the stockade was finally consumed, and the few watchers reported to the Chief that nothing but the prison had been destroyed.
"We have destroyed the Bastille," remarked John, "and must now take care of the prisoners." They found that it was indeed a white man who had been rescued. He was frightfully emaciated, and too weak to talk.
This was also the condition of the two natives. The other two were soon restored, after receiving nourishment, and were ready to tell their story. They had been taken two weeks previously in a battle with the tribe to the north.
Through these men they learned that there were only two tribes on the island, and that this was by far the largest, in point of numbers. There had been continual war between the two people, and the only thing which saved his tribe from extermination was the fact that they lived in the mountain regions, and were thus protected.
This information was very welcome to John and the boys. The mountains seemed to have a fascination for them,—and then, the caves, how could they forget them now?
For three hours the Chief and his people waited in the distance. John did not pay any attention to them, apparently. Shortly thereafter two of his men came in, dragging one of the former patients.
"We saw him trying to steal away," said one of the men.
"Was he going toward his people?" asked John.
"Yes."