"He go to the island, there, I theenk," offered Jean Marat.
"Yes," added Carlos. "He go right for thee island."
I had noted the island when we were on the cliffs. It was triangular, and on Marat's chart it measured a half mile in its greatest dimension.
"What's on it?" queried Norris, again resuming his rowing.
Carlos said he had been there many years ago, and then there were palms and brush, and in the midst, a hut and garden.
"There! He's going to land," spoke Robert.
Captain Marat trained his glasses on the island, now barely more than a half mile away.
"Yes," he said, "he land. He is on thee shore now, an' he pull out thee canoe, I theenk."
We set our boat in toward the south shore of the bay and here we found the mouth of a stream. A few rods up this creek we made our landing, and in a little we had got boat and all out of the water and into a sheltered place under the palms, for day would soon be breaking.
"You're the darndest bunch!" said Ray, rubbing his eyes. "You'd think I hadn't paid for my lodging."