“Yes,” whispered Wison, looking suddenly behind him.

Red Sanders gave a little start, peering in the direction that his companion had looked.

“Wot was it?” he whimpered.  “Wot did you do that fer?”

“I thought I seen something move there,” replied Wison.  “Fer Gawd’s sake let’s get outen this,” and without waiting for a word of assent from his companion the sailor turned and ran at breakneck speed along the little path toward the spot where Divine, Blanco, and Bony Sawyer were stationed.  When they arrived Bony was just on the point of setting out for the spring to fetch water, but at sight of the frightened, breathless men he returned to hear their story.

“What’s up?” shouted Divine.  “You men look as though you’d seen a ghost.  Where are the others?”

“They’re all murdered, and their heads cut off,” cried Red Sanders.  “We found the bunch that got Miller, Swenson, and the girl.  They’d killed ’em all and was eatin’ of ’em when we jumps ’em.  Before we knew wot had happened about a thousand more of the devils came runnin’ up.  They got us separated, and when we seen Theriere and Byrne kilt we jest natch’rally beat it.  Gawd, but it was orful.”

“Do you think they will follow you?” asked Divine.

At the suggestion every head turned toward the trail down which the two panic-stricken men had just come.  At the same moment a hoarse shout arose from the cove below and the five looked down to see a scene of wild activity upon the beach.  The defection of Theriere’s party had been discovered, as well as the absence of the girl and the theft of the provisions.

Skipper Simms was dancing about like a madman.  His bellowed oaths rolled up the cliffs like thunder.  Presently Ward caught a glimpse of the men at the top of the cliff above him.

“There they are!” he cried.

Skipper Simms looked up.

“The swabs!” he shrieked.  “A-stealin’ of our grub, an’ abductin’ of that there pore girl.  The swabs!  Lemme to ’em, I say; jest lemme to ’em.”

“We’d all better go to ’em,” said Ward.  “We’ve got a fight on here sure.  Gather up some rocks, men, an’ come along.  Skipper, you’re too fat to do any fightin’ on that there hillside, so you better stay here an’ let one o’ the men take your gun,” for Ward knew so well the mettle of his superior that he much preferred his absence to his presence in the face of real fighting, and with the gun in the hands of a braver man it would be vastly more effective.

Ward himself was no lover of a fight, but he saw now that starvation might stare them in the face with their food gone, and everything be lost with the loss of the girl.  For food and money a much more cowardly man than Bender Ward would fight to the death.

Up the face of the cliff they hurried, expecting momentarily to be either challenged or fired upon by those above them.  Divine and his party looked down with mixed emotions upon those who were ascending in so threatening a manner.  They found themselves truly between the devil and the deep sea.