“I don’t see that we’re goin’ to gain nothin’ by fightin’ ‘em,” said Wison.  “There ain’t nothin’ in it any more nohow for nobody since the girl’s gorn.  Let’s chuck it, an’ see wot terms we can make with Squint Eye.”

“Well,” grumbled the Negro, “I can’t fight ’em alone; What yo doin’ dere, Bony?”

During the conversation Bony Sawyer had been busy with a stick and a piece of rag, and now as he turned toward his companions once more they saw that he had rigged a white flag of surrender.  None interfered as he raised it above the edge of the breastwork.

Immediately there was a hail from below.  It was Ward’s voice.

“Surrenderin’, eh?  Comin’ to your senses, are you?” he shouted.

Divine, feeling that immediate danger from bullets was past, raised his head above the edge of the earthwork.

“We have something to communicate, Mr. Ward,” he called.

“Spit it out, then; I’m a-listenin’,” called back the mate.

“Miss Harding, Mr. Theriere, Byrne, Miller, and Swenson have been captured and killed by native head-hunters,” said Divine.

Ward’s eyes went wide, and he blew out his cheeks in surprise.  Then his face went black with an angry scowl.

“You see what you done now, you blitherin’ fools, you!” he cried, “with your funny business?  You gone an’ killed the goose what laid the golden eggs.  Thought you’d get it all, didn’t you? and now nobody won’t get nothin’, unless it is the halter.  Nice lot o’ numbskulls you be, an’ whimperin’ ’round now expectin’ of us to take you back—­well, I reckon not, not on your measly lives,” and with that he raised his revolver to fire again at Divine.

The society man toppled over backward into the pit behind the breastwork before Ward had a chance to pull the trigger.

“Hol’ on there mate!” cried Bony Sawyer; “there ain’t no call now fer gettin’ excited.  Wait until you hear all we gotta say.  You can’t blame us pore sailormen.  It was this here fool dude and that scoundrel Theriere that put us up to it.  They told us that you an’ Skipper Simms was a-fixin’ to double-cross us all an’ leave us here to starve on this Gawd-forsaken islan’.  Theriere said that he was with you when you planned it.  That you wanted to git rid o’ as many of us as you could so that you’d have more of the ransom to divide.  So all we done was in self-defense, as it were.

“Why not let bygones be bygones, an’ all of us join forces ag’in’ these murderin’ heathen?  There won’t be any too many of us at best—­Red an’ Wison seen more’n two thousan’ of the man-eatin’ devils.  They’re a-creepin’ up on us from behin’ right this minute, an’ you can lay to that; an’ the chances are that they got some special kind o’ route into that there cove, an’ maybe they’re a-watchin’ of you right now!”

Ward turned an apprehensive glance to either side.  There was logic in Bony’s proposal.  They couldn’t spare a man now.  Later he could punish the offenders at his leisure—­when he didn’t need them any further.