'I 'm glad of that. I mean I 'm glad we aren't near their place; it gives us a better chance. Ah! here 's the fourth of our party.'

Hoole had just reappeared at the edge of forest. 'My name is Trentham, by the way; my friend yonder is Mr. Hoole; these friends of ours, men of your own calling, are Mr. Grinson and Mr. Meek.'

'Yes. My name is Haan--H-a-a-n.'

Wondering why he had spelled the name, Trentham turned to Hoole, who had just come up.

'I followed the track some distance,' said Hoole. 'Nothing doing, except that a fiendish leech dropped on me from a tree, I suppose, and did himself rather well, confound him!' He showed his wrist. 'The beast has opened a vein, and I knew nothing about it until I got back into the moonlight and wondered how on earth I 'd cut my wrist. But there 's no sign of natives.'

Meek heaved a sign of satisfaction. Having introduced the Dutchman and explained his plight, Trentham went on:

'I think we had better get out of this at once. We haven't heard a sound from below, which suggests--doesn't it?--that the savages know another way up, probably far away. The track must lead to their village, so we 'll avoid that. Mr. Haan knows something of the country, and has offered to guide us to--what is it?'

'Friedrich Wilhelmshafen,' said Haan.

'A reg'lar tongue-twister, sir,' said Grinson. 'But it 'll change its name, like a woman, for better--couldn't be for worse!'

'Do we strike east or west?' asked Hoole.

'East,' replied Haan. 'I d.i.n.k we should go an hour or two while the moon is up, den rest till morning.'

'Are there any beasts of the earth that do go forth and seek their prey by night?' asked Meek.

'Not in dis country,' the Dutchman answered. 'Dere are no dangerous beasts except de cannibals, and dey will not walk when the moon is down.

We go, den; I show de way.'

Haan gazed into the sky, then went to the brink of the cliff and looked out to sea and along the coast in both directions.

'I take my bearings,' he said, returning. 'Now we start.'

He struck off almost at right angles to the native track, but instead of entering the forest strode along at a moderate pace just outside its edge, at an average distance of thirty feet from the cliff. The rest followed him in single file, Trentham leading, Meek bringing up the rear. They had taken only a few steps when Grinson halted until Meek reached his side.

'Trousers!' he said in a falsetto whisper.

'What did you say, Mr. Grinson?' asked Meek, dropping his voice to match.

'Trousers, Ephraim--the Dutchman's. Didn't you notice 'em?'

'Well, he do have a pair, as is only decent, but I can't truthfully say as I noticed anything partickler about their rig.'

'Where are your eyes, Ephraim? I 'm surprised at you! He said he swam ash.o.r.e.'

'True. "I swim strong," was his words, and I can believe it, his arms and legs being such.'

'D' you believe he took his trousers off, then? S'pose he did--wouldn't they show? If you 'd used your eyes, Ephraim, me lad, you 'd 'a seen as there weren't no sign of sea-water on them trousers. 'Tis my belief they 've never been near water since they left the washtub.'

Meek looked in a puzzled way into the boatswain's eyes. Grinson winked, jerked his arm in the direction of the Dutchman, then, edging a little closer to Meek, put his head over his mouth, and whispered:

'Cut the painter.'

'What painter?'

'Hopped the twig, as they say in the dear old New Cut where I was born.

Deserted, Ephraim.'

'Never!' Meek e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. 'What for would he desert in a land of cannibals?'

'What do men desert for? Anything--nothing! You mind that time Ben Scruddles hooked it at Noo York? What for?'

'Well, 'twas a long time ago, and I don't rightly remember, but I 'd say 'twas because Ben didn't like the skipper's red hair.'

'Might 'a been part of it, but the main thing was that Ben was just tired--tired o' the skipper, tired o' reg'lar hours and ever-lasting dooty, tired of every blessed thing--like a horse as jibs and swears he won't pull the blessed cart another blessed inch. Anything for a change.

I lay my life the Dutchman got it bad, and fancied a change. Cannibals is nothing when you feel like that; I 've felt like it myself.'

They had lagged while talking, and Hoole, looking over his shoulder, called:

'Now, men, keep up! We don't want to lose you. The moon 's going down.'

'Ay, ay, sir!' replied Grinson, in his usual bellow. 'Ephraim was talking, and he never could do two things at wunst.'

Haan meanwhile had trudged steadily on, making his path through the undergrowth that skirted the forest. The rankness of the vegetation and the uneven surface of the ground made progress very slow. It seemed to Trentham easier going near the cliff edge, where the plants were less tall; but when he made the suggestion, Haan at once rejected it.

'We go safer out of sight from de sea,' he said.

Only the swishing of their feet, a rustle as some small animal was disturbed, now and then a squeal from among the trees, broke the deep silence of the tropical night. The air was chill, but walking kept the men pleasantly warm. Gradually the moon stole down the sky behind them, and when it had disappeared Haan called a halt.

'Now we rest,' he said. 'In morning we go into de forest, until we see a hill; seamen call it Mushroom Hill, because it look like one when dey see it from de sea. When we see it, we go quicker.'

The sailors dropped their burdens, and beat down the vegetation over a s.p.a.ce some twelve feet square. Here they all stretched themselves, and made a frugal supper. Haan helped himself to biscuits more often than Grinson liked. For a while the boatswain said nothing; at last, however, drawing the mouth of the bag together, he ventured:

'Beg pardon, sir--'twas eight days, I think you said, to the port we 're making for?'

'Yes, eight or nine,' replied Haan.

Grinson pressed down the loose end of the bag, and, exhibiting the bulk, said:

'Biscuits won't last three, Mr. Trentham, and short rations at that.'

'We get food in de forest--plenty,' said Haan.

'I 'm glad to hear that,' said Trentham. 'This one bag was all that we had time to s.n.a.t.c.h up when we took to the boat. The old piracy was gentlemanly compared with the new. As a seaman, Mr. Haan, you must feel pretty much disgusted at the dirty tricks the Germans are playing.'

'It is war,' said Haan, with a shrug. 'De ways of war, like everyding else, dey change.'

'They do indeed!' cried Trentham. 'In the old days you could fight and then shake hands; but I 'm hanged if anybody will ever want to shake hands with a German after all this devilry!'

'That's sure!' said Hoole. 'Take me for one. I 'm a citizen of the United States, and war 's not precisely our trade; but after what I 've seen, I 'm going to take a hand, if any one will have me--and I get clear of this New Guinea.'

'And I was on my way to join up,' added Trentham. 'The Raider has only made me extra keen.'