After they had progressed slowly for about half an hour, Meek suddenly sniffed, and caught Grinson by the arm.

'Summat burning, Mr. Grinson,' he said.

'Well, you 've a long nose, Ephraim. You 're right, me lad; I smell it myself.' He coughed lightly to attract the attention of Trentham, a few yards on his right. The four men grouped themselves. Hoole took out his revolver. They stood in silence, listening, looking in the direction from which the smell of burning came. There was no sound of crackling, no sign of smoke, and after a minute or two they went forward cautiously.

Soon they halted in astonishment. They had come upon a stretch of blackened undergrowth, upon which lay a few trees that bore the mark of an axe; others, still erect, were black for many feet from their base.

The air was full of the smell of burnt wood.

'Surely the madman didn't set fire to the trees?' said Trentham.

'This wasn't done to-day,' said Hoole, touching a blackened trunk.

'It's not hot. But it wasn't long ago. Look here; the remains of a ladder.'

He had picked up at the foot of a tree what was clearly the charred remnant of a ladder of bamboo.

'Bless my eyes, sir, 'tis a village,' said Grinson. 'When I was at Moresby some years ago they showed me a photograph of one--a tree village, the little houses perched up aloft, and ladders to get to 'em.

There 's been a fire, that's clear.'

'And no fire-engine,' said Meek. 'A terrible calamity, to be sure.'

Hoole had gone a few steps ahead.

'Here 's the sea,' he called. 'We 're on the edge of a cliff. And by Jove! Trentham, look here!'

The others went forward and joined him. They looked down upon a narrow ravine--a steep valley such as is called a chine in the South of England. At the foot of the thickly wooded banks a stream flowed out into a small bay almost landlocked by high cliffs. And in the middle of the bay lay a vessel--a long blue shape with a single funnel.

'The Raider!' e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Grinson with an oath.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 'THE RAIDER!']

'I guess you 're right,' said Hoole quietly. 'And there 's that cloud of smoke we saw in the distance this morning.'

A slight dark cloud was rising above the cliff near the vessel. It did not proceed from the Raider's funnel. Was it possible that a consort of hers lay beyond the point?

The four men, standing just within the forest verge, gazed for a few moments in silence at this unexpected scene. Then Trentham turned.

'We had better get back--to where we can see Mushroom Hill,' he said, a grave note in his voice.

'And give up Haan?' said Hoole.

'And give up Haan. Haan may go hang. Let us go at once; it 'll be dark soon.'

They retraced their steps through the burnt village, Hoole and Trentham walking side by side, the two seamen following.

'I wondered why the fellow spelt his name to us; you remember?

H-a-a-n,' said Trentham. 'It's clear as daylight now. He 's a German; was on that raider; a petty officer, I suppose; his name 's Hahn.'

Hoole whistled under his breath.

'They played some devilry with the natives, I suppose,' Trentham went on; 'burnt their village, very likely; Hahn strayed and got collared--and we saved one of the ruffians who sunk us!'

'And he 's got away and rejoined--with my watch!' cried Hoole. 'What an almighty fool I was! And I gave him five minutes' extra sleep! That stings, Trentham, and will till my dying day.'

'He beat us: in slimness the Hun always will. I haven't a doubt he was playing tricks with us all the time. His Mushroom Hill--faugh!'

'You mean?'

'I mean that I don't believe that's our way at all. He reckoned on our getting hopelessly lost--starving--falling into the hands of the savages.'

'Well, for my part, I 'd as soon fall into their hands as the Germans'.

You don't think he 'll send the Huns after us, then?'

'Not he! I don't suppose he 'll mention us, thinking us well out of the way. He 'll probably pitch some tall yarn about his clever escape from the cannibals--very likely write a book about it. Upon my word, Hoole, after what we know----'

'Well, I reckon we 're done pretty brown, but I 'm not inclined to give him best. We 'll get to Friedrich What-do-you-call-it in spite of him, and not by Mushroom Hill either. We 'll stick to the coast--confound him! He was so precious careful to keep us away from it.'

'We can only try; it's a ticklish affair, Hoole.'

'I know it is, old son. The food question.'

'Don't worry about that. Where there are men there must be food.'

'That's true; but I 'd rather find the food where there weren't men, if the men are like those dancing hoodlums on the beach. One thing; the Hun's frightfulness has probably scared away all the natives from these parts, so we 'll be able to rest in peace to-night and start afresh in the morning.'

'I hope so. We had better camp where Hahn left us; I 'll tell the men there.'

They went on over their former tracks. A wind was rising, and the foliage overhead rustled like the hissing of breakers on a shingly beach. Conversation ceased; each was busy with his own uneasy thoughts.

The rays of the setting sun filtered through the trees from behind them, and presently they came in sight of the open s.p.a.ce where Hahn had deserted them. And then the two young men suddenly halted; Trentham wheeled round and put his fingers over his lips in sight of the seamen.

In the middle of the clearing, just where Grinson had lain, a dark, naked figure was stooping and closely examining the ground. He had his back to them, but a moment after they had stopped he sprang up suddenly and turned towards them, his head raised like that of a wild animal that scents danger. For a few moments he stood motionless in the full glow of the sunlight--a tall lithe figure, like a statue in bronze. His right hand clutched a spear.

The watchers had time to notice his well-proportioned form; his colour, lighter than that of the natives they had already seen; a grace of bearing that gave him an indefinable distinction; then he was gone, as if by magic. Where he had been he was no longer; it was as if he had dissolved like Pepper's ghost.

After waiting a little, Hoole stole forward to reconnoitre. The s.p.a.ce was vacant; there was no sign of savages lurking among the surrounding trees. He returned to the others.

'No one there,' he said under his breath.

'D' you think he saw us?' asked Trentham.

'No. I couldn't see you from the edge. But he was uneasy.'

'So am I! We had better avoid that spot. I 'd rather not meet any more natives just yet! We had better go rather deeply into the forest, and perch up in trees for the night. There 's only about half an hour of daylight left; we shall probably be pretty safe in the dark. In daylight--well, we shall have to look out.'

They had spoken in whispers. The seamen had watched them anxiously; Grinson, usually talkative enough, had not uttered a word for some time.

Trentham in a few sentences explained his plan; then led the way with Hoole into the forest, in a direction at right angles to their former course.

The dying sunlight scarcely penetrated the thick canopy above them. The greenish gloom lent pallor to their cheeks. They stumbled, on through the brushwood, which grew more densely where the overhead leaf.a.ge was thin. The wind had dropped as suddenly as it had arisen. They heard nothing but the swish of their feet through the vegetation and the fitful calls of night birds just awaking. Presently, however, Hoole stopped and whispered:

'Did you hear that?'