The savages now interrupted the talk by separating the prisoners, tying each to a tree some distance from the others.
Pat Stoodles was nowhere to be seen, for he had gone off in an entirely different direction from that taken by the natives.
Slowly the day dragged by until night was at hand. The natives were busy preparing the meat taken from the whale, and for the time being paid but scant attention to the prisoners.
"We must escape to-night," thought Dave.
Yet how was it to be accomplished?
Although the natives took little notice of them, one of the younger men of the tribe had been set on guard, to see that none of them broke his bonds.
At last darkness settled down on the encampment. At first the fire blazed brightly, but at last it died down, leaving the prisoners in gloom.
The savages gathered close to the campfire, the women by themselves, and were soon wrapped in slumber.
One native remained on guard, seated on a fallen tree.
Suddenly a form appeared in the midst of the prisoners.