"Not at all, Glennie," Matt answered; "but I had a tight squeak of it."
"Shall we chase those rascals?"
"No," was the answer as Matt regained his feet; "we'll make tracks back to the Grampus, and thank our lucky stars that we got out of this as well as we did. There may be a lot more of the Indians hiding among the rocks, and I've a notion that their spear points are poisoned. We'll not give them a chance to dig their spears into us, if we can help it."
Watching behind cautiously, Matt and Glennie immediately set out on their return to the boat.
"I didn't think there was a human being anywhere near the island, apart from ourselves," said Matt. "When those rascals came face to face with me the surprise was mutual—and far from pleasant, so far as I was concerned. Did you hear me yell?"
"That's what brought me ashore," said Glennie. "Ferral was bound to come; but I told him he had better carry out orders regarding the ship and let me go. This six-shooter carried the day."
"And saved my life," added Matt. "I'll not forget that, Mr. Glennie."
A flush of pleasure ran through Glennie's face.
"Bosh!" he exclaimed. "You'd have done the same for me, if our positions had been reversed."
By that time they were at the place where it was necessary for them to leave the valley and pick their way through the scattered bowlders to the shore of the cove. While they were climbing the rocks, Carl suddenly thrust his head out from behind one of them.