Just as the last English seaman was picked up, the dhow’s stern, already a mass of flames, lifted, and she glided down, bow foremost, beneath the surface; a few pieces of charred wood and bamboo marking the spot where she had lately floated.
“Serve the fellows right,” observed several of the men who were watching the occurrence; “the hangman has been saved a job, and stout rope left for a better purpose.”
Murray and Adair, although acknowledging that the murderers, as they deemed them, had met with a just fate, could not help regretting that all means of obtaining information as to what had become of the midshipmen and their companions had thus been lost.
“All I can now do,” said Murray, “is to cruise over the ground the dhow must have traversed after you left her, and look out for the canoe, in case any of the party may have succeeded in getting into her. It is possible that some of them may have done so, although in this long interval they must have suffered fearfully for want of food.”
As no time was to be lost, Murray returned on board, leaving Adair with his party still on the island. The corvette, immediately weighing anchor, stood away close—hauled to the eastward, that she might on another tack fetch the spot where her search was to begin. Murray’s remarks had slightly raised Adair’s hopes that one if not both of the midshipmen might have been saved, had they been hove overboard alive; but it was too probable that the Arabs would have knocked them on the head first, and then thrown them into the water. He expressed his thoughts to Green.
“I don’t altogether give them up,” answered Jos. “Midshipmen have a wonderful way of keeping in existence, and by some means or other they may have escaped, though I can’t say how it may have happened.”
Adair’s anxiety prevented him from sitting quiet in his tent, and, in spite of the hot sun, he continued walking about, now visiting the look-out man, now seeing how the unfortunate slaves were getting on. Pango and Bango were of great assistance in communicating with them and dissipating their fears, though their captors had taken good care to instil into their minds the belief that the Englishmen wished only to catch them for the sake of salting them down for food, or disposing of them in some other horrible manner. Poor creatures! what their future lot was to be no one could tell. One thing was certain: they had been torn from their homes and families, many of those dearest to them had been killed by the savage men-hunters, and they themselves had been treated with horrible cruelty.
The boats, as usual, were kept in readiness to start off at a moment’s notice, while the look-out men had their eyes about them in search of any dhows running up the coast. “A sail in sight to the southward,” shouted the man up the tree.
“What is she like?” asked Adair.
“Square-rigged vessel, sir, with a broad spread of white canvas.”