“Suppose,” said Edna Markham, after a moment’s reflection, “that they should see Mr. Rynders coming back, and should attack him.”

“I hardly think they would do that,” replied the captain.  “He will probably come in a good-sized vessel, and I don’t think they are the kind of men for open battle.  They are midnight sneaks and assassins.  Now, I advise all of you to go and get something to eat.  It would be better for us not to try to do any cooking, and so make a smoke.”

The captain did not wish to talk any more.  Miss Markham’s last remark had put a new fear into his mind.  Suppose the Rackbirds had lured Rynders and his men on shore?  Those sailors had but few arms among them.  They had not thought, when they left, that there would be any necessity for defence against their fellow-beings.

When Edna Markham told Mrs. Cliff what the captain had said about their chances, and what he intended to do for their protection, the older woman brightened up a good deal.

“I have great faith in the captain,” she declared, “and if he thinks it is worth while to make a fight, I believe he will make a good one.  If they should be firing, and Mr. Rynders is approaching the coast, even if it should be night, he would lose no time in getting to us.”

Toward the close of that afternoon three wild beasts came around the point of the bluff and made their way northward along the beach.  They were ferocious creatures with shaggy hair and beards.  Two of them carried guns, and each of them had a knife in his belt.  When they came to a broad bit of beach above the reach of the waves, they were very much surprised at some footsteps they saw.  They were the tracks of two men, instead of those of the one they were looking for.  This discovery made them very cautious.  They were eager to kill the escaped African before he got far enough away to give information of their retreat, for they knew not at what time an armed force in search of them might approach the coast.  But they were very wary about running into danger.  There was somebody with that black fellow—­somebody who wore boots.

After a time they came to the boat.  The minute they saw this, each miscreant crouched suddenly upon the sand, and, with cocked guns, they listened.  Then, hearing nothing, they carefully examined the boat.  It was empty—­there were not even oars in it.

Looking about them, they saw a hollow behind some rocks.  To this they ran, crouching close to the ground, and there they sat and consulted.

It was between two and three o’clock the next morning that Maka’s eyes, which had not closed for more than twenty hours, refused to keep open any longer, and with his head on the hard, rocky ground of the passage in which he lay, the poor African slept soundly.  On the shelf at the edge of the lake, the other African, Mok, sat crouched on his heels, his eyes wide open.  Whether he was asleep or not it would have been difficult to determine, but if any one had appeared in the great cleft on the other side of the lake, he would have sprung to his feet with a yell—­his fear of the Rackbirds was always awake.