The voices were lost in the forest, as the men went back the way Ray and I had come. We took up our march again, and a half hour had not gone when we arrived at the western end of the island, and stood under the cocoanut palms, looking on the two schooners, the Pearl and the Orion. A little breeze rippled the waters of the bay. No lights showed on either vessel.
"Doesn't she look good?" said Ray.
"Yes," I assented. "I wish we were aboard."
I led the way up the beach to the north a piece. We wove a bit of matting of palm fans, for a screen; and then soon had collected some dry wood for a signal-fire. We selected our fireplace at the edge of the palms, and so disposed the screen that the fire would be visible to the Pearl but not to the Orion.
A match was struck; we had a blaze. Using my shirt, I let out flash after flash for the benefit of those on the Pearl; and we watched for an answer. For a considerable time we fed the fire, signalled, and watched. But no answering flash came. "Looks like they're dead," grumbled Ray.
"That Mullins didn't talk like it," I returned. "Well, they'll look this way yet!" And I continued to signal.
Then suddenly we heard voices down the beach. Fortunately it was on the screened side of the fire.
"Quick, Ray!" I said. And we buried the fire in sand. We grasped the screen and fled into the brush.
"It's Mullins and his crowd again," I said.
"They've come looking for us," observed Ray.