“I see it!” he cried at length, adding, as Smith began to steer towards it, “Wait a minute, mister; I see all the country better here; I can pick out the clearings, though they are only dark blots; but yet I can do it.”

He swept the country for miles around.  Beyond the forest, far to the west, there were stretches of rugged uplands, bare of vegetation.  It was not at all likely that the Englishmen had gone so far from their camp, whether willingly or unwillingly.  To the east and south-east stretched the sea, and Rodier declared that he saw, an immense way off, the smoke of a steamer, no doubt the gunboat.  Lowering the glass to scan the nearer prospect, he suddenly gave a lusty shout.

“I see smoke, mister; a quite little smoke, as of a cigarette.”

“Where?” asked Smith eagerly.

“South-east of us, in the forest, about five or six miles off.”

“We’ll go and see what it comes from.”

Smith scarcely dared to hope that the discovery of the smoke would be of any assistance to him.  But it was the first indication of a camp within the forest, whether of the islanders or of his friends, and he could not neglect to investigate it.  The aeroplane flew along at the speed of a swallow.  In little more than three minutes it reached the twine of smoke.  Checking the engine, Smith wheeled the aeroplane round until it passed slowly over an extensive gap in the forest.  He looked down.  The smoke rose from a fire in the midst of the clearing.  At a little distance from it there was a throng of islanders, gazing up awe-struck at the strange apparition whose approach had been heralded from afar, and which now circled above them, making terrifying noises.

But Smith was not interested in the islanders.  He peered among them and around for white men.  He felt a shock of bitter disappointment; all the upturned faces were brown.  But the movement of the aeroplane brought him to the verge of the forest, and then Rodier gave a shout of delight.

“There they are!  There they are, mister!” he cried, pointing obliquely downwards.

Smith looked over.  In the shade at the foot of the trees he saw a number of men bound each to a trunk.  Their faces, directed upwards, were too darkly shadowed for him to distinguish their race; but they were clothed.  Beyond doubt they were the castaways.

In a moment he determined what to do.  While the aeroplane circled slowly above their heads the islanders would feel no more than awe and wonder.  They huddled together like a flock of sheep in a thunderstorm, probably not as yet connecting the aerial visitant with their prisoners.  What was required was to scatter them, suddenly, in a way that would smite them with terror, and cause them to flee without thought of the captives helpless against the trees.