As soon as the Pelican was out of arrow-shot of the cliff, the Beothics disappeared. Ouenwa laid aside his bow with a sigh of regret. Then he tried to repeat to Kingswell what he had heard from Panounia. After a deal of questioning, sign-making, and mental exertion, the Englishman gathered the information that treachery and murder had taken place up the river, and that his young friend hated the new leader of the tribe with a bitter hatred. He did not wonder at the bitterness. He looked at the young savage's flushed face and glowing eyes with sympathy and admiration. His liking for the boy had grown in every hour of their companionship, and, by this time, had developed into a decided fondness.
"Sit down, lad, and let your guns cool," he said, with a light hand on the other's knee. "Your enemies are my enemies," he continued, "and we'll fight the dogs every time we see 'em."
Ouenwa sat quiet and tried to look calm. He was soothed by the evident kindliness of Kingswell's tone and manner, though he had failed to translate his speech. The men on the thwarts had caught the words, however. They nodded heavily to one another.
"Ye say the very word what was in my mind, sir," spoke up Tom Bent, "an', if I may make so bold as to say further, your enemies be your servants' enemies, sir. Therefore the young un's enemies must be our enemies, holus bolus." The other sailors nodded decidedly. "Therefore," continued Tom Bent, "all they cowardly heathen aft on the cliff has to reckon, hereafter, with Thomas Bent an' the crew o' this craft."
"Well spoken, Tom," replied Kingswell, with the smile that always won him the heart and hand of every man he favoured with it,—and of every maid, too, more than likely. "But we can't enthuse on empty stomachs. Pass out the bread and the cold meat," he added.
For fully two hours the Pelican rocked about within half a mile of her night's anchorage. Kingswell was not in a desperate hurry, and so his men pulled at the oars just enough to hold the boat clear of the rocks. A sharp lookout was kept along the coast, but not a sight nor a sound of the Beothics rewarded their vigilance.
"They be up to some devilment, ye may lay to that," said Tom Bent.
At last a wind fluttered to them out of the nor'east, and the square sail was hoisted and sheeted home. Again the Pelican dipped her bows and wet her rail on the voyage of exploration.
After two hours of sailing, and just when they were off the mouth of a little river and a fair valley, a fog overtook them. Kingswell was for running in, but Ouenwa objected.