We carried our boat above the beach into the bushes, and so made our camp, at midnight.
When the sun rose we were abroad, and soon we had picked our way over to the Twin Hills. They lay some way apart, towered perhaps a hundred feet, and were grown over with brush. We climbed to the top of that nearest the beach. That vantage point gave us a splendid view of the beach and sea.
All that day some of us remained there on the lookout. The Orion did not come. We all three made our beds there that night. Before morning a squall sent us scampering back to our boat, and we escaped a drenching by turning the little vessel bottom up and creeping under.
Another day passed on the hill-top, and no Orion came.
"I wonder if he's fooled us again," said Robert.
"I don't think it," I answered.
"I think he come," encouraged Carlos.
I was sleeping soundly when an insistent hand on my shoulder brought me suddenly awake. It was Robert, whose watch was eleven to one.
"They're here," he said. "I heard a block rattle."
Carlos was now up. We could barely make out a dark mass well out from the beach; the night was very dark in spite of the brilliancy of the stars. We scrambled down the hill, and in a few minutes were in the bushes that fringed the beach.