The entire surface of the small, landlocked bay was as deserted and seemingly untouched by man's presence, as if human eyes had never beheld its solitude. A glimpse of the inlet and the breakers far out on the bar beyond was visible between two islets.
They could hear the monotonous thunder of the surf and discern a glassy ocean farther out, for the morning was calm, promising also to be intensely hot.
The surprise of each was so supreme that for an instant nothing was said. Finally the mate, with an expression of deep perplexity on his countenance, said:
"I cannot understand it at all. Let us row to the landing. Perhaps we may gain some clue to the mystery."
So they pulled across to the part of the harbor where the schooner had been anchored when Duff, heading the boat for the shore, plunged them into the leafy recesses that overhung the water. Having once penetrated this outer curtain, Ralph saw they were close to a rude landing made of logs sunk endways into the oozy bottom, and floored with large canes similar to bamboo.
A sort of corduroy road led into the swamp, and disappeared amid the trees. Upon a post near by was an old marlin spike with something white fluttering beneath. This attracted the mate's eye.
"Here we are," said he, detaching the bit of paper. "Perhaps this will give us a little light."
And he read as follows:
"3 bells sekund dog watch. gOt to git out. Uncle Sam on the Lookoute. cap ses yu must shift fer yure selves."
"That looks as if a fo'c'stle fist had written it," remarked Duff ruminatively. "I have felt for some time that Gary wouldn't object to being rid of a few of us."