The bright light ahead had disappeared. Tugg was berating Pedro for getting off his course and running the schooner aground. In a minute, however, another light flashed up nearby and I saw that a huge bonfire had been kindled on the shore not more than a cable’s length away.
“What in the e-tar-nal snakes is that?” bawled Captain Adoniram Tugg, seeing this fire. “That ain’t the Professor—not a bit of it.”
In a minute the flames rose so high that we could see figures moving in the light of them. And wild enough figures they were—half naked fellows, taller than ordinary men, and waving spears and clubs.
“I believe some of your Patagonian giants you have been telling me about have gone on the warpath, Captain,” I said.
“Not a bit of it! Not a bit of it,” he snarled. “They’re as tame as tiger-kittens.”
“Just the same I’m going to get my gun and pistol,” I declared, and I dove below.
When I came back to the deck two more fires were burning. The shore—which was a low bluff—was illuminated for some hundreds of yards. There was a gang of a hundred or more dancing savages about the fires. I was frightened; those savages were not “gentled” enough to suit me.
The captain and Pedro had evidently come to a decision. The fires revealing the coast as they did showed them where the mistake had been made. Tugg said:
“Can’t blame Pedro. That beacon lantern we saw had been shifted. I hope those wretches yonder haven’t got the Professor foul. But one thing is sure: They brought that big lantern clear across the inlet and set it up on the west shore. No wonder we ran aground. It was a pretty trick, I do allow.”
“And these are the natives you told me were perfectly harmless?”