Kenneth began to wish that he had not taken the torch. Its loss was giving rise to complications. Still more did he regret the action, when the electric ray played upon the heap of rusting corrugated iron behind which he lay.
At length the search was abandoned. Still arguing the pair went to the gate, unlocked it and threw it open. The new sentry entered, while the other made his way in the direction of the hut from which a light still showed. Kenneth could hear him cursing, as he stumbled over the uneven ground in the darkness.
In a few minutes, having made a casual examination of the barred window of the prison building, the sentry on duty came out of the gate, locked it, and made his way to the spot where the other had slept. He too, lay down, and was soon snoring.
"He's safe for the next four hours," thought the lad. "Now for some grub. Let me see; how does the store bear from here?"
In the darkness, Kenneth lost his sense of direction. Had it been starlight he would not have blundered; but blunder he did, for, instead of making for the store, he found himself in the open space where the coal was stacked.
Making a fresh start he eventually found the object of his search—a long, low building with one end in a ruinous state. The doors were shut but not bolted or locked. In the sub-division nearest to a double-door the provisions were kept. He had previously seen men going in and out while the coaling of the Paloma was in progress.
The stock was low. It was all that Mendoza could spare from the ship's stores, and consisted of half a dozen sacks of maize, flour and rice.
Kenneth was discriminating on his choice. Neither he nor Peter cared for rice; besides, they had no means of boiling it. Flour would be acceptable if they could make bread and bake it—but a fire was out of the question. Maize, pounded and mixed with coco-milk or yams, would make an appetizing and sustaining meal.
Modestly contenting himself with about twenty pounds weight of maize, Kenneth prepared to rejoin his chum. He felt well satisfied with his night's work; not only had he gained possession of an electric torch and sufficient food to last the pair for at least ten days; he had gained valuable information concerning the lax routine carried out by the guards on the prison hut.
"Have those fellows come back?" he asked, when he rejoined Peter in the cave.
"No; at least I haven't heard or seen anything of them," was the reply.
"Then we'll have to be very much on the alert," rejoined Kenneth, reshouldering his booty.
Without interruption the chums regained their shelter under the brushwood, and made a satisfying repast from the maize and taro, and were about to go to sleep, when the stillness of the night was rent by a hideous yell of agony.
CHAPTER XXIV. FREEING THE CAPTIVES
The chums hurriedly left their shelter and peered through the darkness, their ears strained to catch any sounds that might give a clue to the reason for the blood-curdling scream. They heard nothing but the thunder of the surf.
"Wonder what it is?" asked Kenneth.
"It came from down there," said Peter, pointing towards the harbour. "Those fellows in the boat, I should imagine. Well, it's all quiet now; let's turn in."
In spite of his night's activities, Kenneth awoke with the first shaft of sunlight over the peaks. Curiosity prompted him to creep to the edge of the scrub and peer into the harbour, the greater portion of which was visible from the spot the lads had chosen for their retreat.
Four of the pirates were standing on the beach and looking in the direction of the boat in which their comrades had gone fishing. The boat was adrift, and within twenty yards of the shore. It would be quite an easy swim to get to her, but none of the men attempted to do so. Then Kenneth saw the reason that daunted their efforts to take to the water.
Lying on the shore was the body of one of the two who had taken the boat—or, to be more accurate, the trunk, head, and arms. The legs were missing. They had been bitten off by a shark, and the brute was still swimming round the boat. Kenneth could see its dorsal fin and the shadowy outline of the enormous body.
Shudderingly the lad recalled the fact that he and Peter had been swimming in the harbour and exposed to the same peril. In their case ignorance was bliss, for during the Paloma's stay not a shark had been seen in the secret anchorage. The crew had bathed at all hours without being attacked; and it was on this fact that the chums based their faith in their ability to swim ashore without risk of falling victims to these ferocious fish.
Presently the pirates began to hurl stones into the water with the intention of scaring the shark; but the brute merely dived and continued to circle the motionless boat as if seeking more food.
One of the men then hurried back to the huts. He moved with more haste than any of the crew had previously done while ashore.
Returning he brought with him a coil of light line. To one end he attached a stone, which he whirled round and round until it acquired sufficient impetus to carry as far as the drifting boat.
At the third attempt the weighted line fell athwart both gunwales. Cautiously the Spaniard hauled until the derelict grounded.
Her painter was secured. Two of the men scrambled on board and lifted some object from the stern gratings. It was the companion of the man who had fallen a victim to the shark. He, too, was dead; killed by a knife thrust under the lower rib.
The pirates appeared to take the business lightly. Without ceremony they dug a hole in the sand, and, having taken from the bodies everything likely to be of value, bundled the victims into the hastily constructed grave and filled it in. Then, having hauled the boat out and washed the gratings, they returned to their quarters.
Kenneth found Peter awake on his return.
"Hallo!" exclaimed the latter drowsily, "where have you been. I was just coming to look for you."
Kenneth told him.
"Well, there are two villains the less," commented Peter. "I suppose they quarrelled and had a scrap. One stabbed the other, but how did the second fellow get nabbed by the shark?"
"Probably the other chap knocked him over the head at the same time as he received the knife-thrust," hazarded Kenneth. "If this sort of thing goes on, we'll have a walk over."
"When do you suggest tackling the prison hut?" asked his chum.
"To-night," replied Kenneth. "If we can free my father and Captain Gregory, we can collar that boat and be on our way through the reefs before sunrise."
"That's all very well," objected Peter. "But we'll have to provision and water the boat. It's a long way to Talai; and if Mendoza's taken it into his head to go there to look for the pearls, we'll be out of the frying-pan into the fire with a vengeance."
"But we'll be able to spot the Paloma before she sights us in a small boat," persisted Kenneth. "At any rate, once we release the Pater and Gregory, we'll not spend another minute longer than we can help on this horrible island."
"You seem pretty sure about it," remarked Peter. "I hope we'll pull it through all right; but what happens if the Paloma returns before we've carried out our plans?"
"She won't," replied Kenneth confidently. "It will be a week or more before she shows up again. By that time we'll be miles away."
The morning passed quietly. The chums could see the pirates either strolling round and about the buildings or else indulging in their all-absorbing poker playing. They made no attempt to scale the steeply rising ground whence they could command a view of the sea—a fact that confirmed Kenneth's belief that the Paloma was not expected to return.
During the extreme heat of the day the Spaniards disappeared from view. The chums took advantage of the pirates' siesta to make for the palm-groves. There it was cooler than in the scanty shade of the undergrowth, and Kenneth, agilely swarming up a tree, managed to secure half a dozen coco-nuts.