The events of the next hour were shadowy as the dawn to Elsie. She
knew that her lover placed men in each of the canoes, that the
life-boat itself was crowded, and that it began the seaward journey
after the others had started. She followed his explanation that if one
of the lighter craft got into difficulties at the Indian barrier, the
big, heavy boat would be able to extricate it. But she feared neither
Indians nor sea. Had Courtenay proposed to sail away into the Pacific
she would have listened with placid approval. She was by his side;
that sufficed. For the rest, they lived in the midst of adventures.
What did it matter if they were called on to run the gauntlet of one
more ambuscade--or a dozen, if it came to that?
But they sped out of the twilight into the morning glory of the open
bay, and never a savage hoot disturbed the echoes. Some of the
Alaculofs had dragged a couple of canoes from beneath the trees and
raced off toward the village; others had followed a coast path known
only to them, while, if there were watchers by the side of that
mysterious river which flowed both ways with the tide, they kept a
silent vigil, awed by the force arrayed against them.
As the life-boat emerged into the estuary under the vigorous sweep of
six ash blades, Elsie's wondering glance rested on the brown plumpness
of a three-quarters naked girl who was gazing at Suarez with wistful,
glistening eyes, much as Joey was regarding his master. In the
intense, penetrating light of sunrise, the bedaubed and skin-clothed
Argentine was the most unlovely object that ever captivated woman. Yet
he satisfied the soul of this Fuegian maid, so what more was there to
be said?
Courtenay caught the happy little sigh, half laugh, half sob, with
which Elsie announced her discovery of the idyl in the canoe.
"We owe a lot to that young person," he said. "None of us could make
out a word she uttered when first we saw her. She loses what small
amount of Spanish she can speak when she becomes excited, and it was
sheer good fortune that some of the crew were with her when she swung
herself down the side of the cliff to warn us of our danger; otherwise
she might have been shot. I suppose Suarez told you what to expect?"
"You might as well be talking Alaculof yourself for all I can follow
what you are saying," murmured Elsie happily.
"Then how did you know where to tie up? We went too far. We lost
the boat that way, and my gun as well. We had to jump for it, and it
was only the boat's stout timbers which enabled her to live through
that boiling pot in the volcano. The native girl said that no
Indian-built craft ever came back."