The boat had been left there by those on the Raven the night before, and in the excitement of the departure had been completely forgotten.
"A boat! A boat!" he cried. "Come!"
He led the way on a run, with the others close upon his heels.
But to circle the cove, which was surrounded with tropical trees, vines, and sharp rocks, was not easy; and before half the distance was covered they heard the cries of the savages.
"They are coming closer!" came from Bob. "Perhaps we had better hide again."
"Don't ye be afther doin' such a foolish thing," answered Pat Stoodles. "They kin track ye quicker nor an Indian could do th' thrick. Take to the boat—it's safer."
On they went, over the rocks and through the tangle of undergrowth. Often one or another would stumble, and scratches and rent clothing were numerous. Closer and closer came the natives. When the latter saw how fresh the trail was they let out a blood-curdling cry of triumph.
At last our friends were within a hundred yards of the boat. But now poor Bob was exhausted, for his foot still pained him greatly.
"I—I can't run any—any more!" he gasped.
"Then we'll carry you," answered Captain Broadbeam, and caught the young engineer up in his arms.