opped and a trembling voice answered in
Spanish:

"Fishermen, fishermen; don't shoot."

Seeing nothing more formidable than a couple of poor fishermen who were
willing to brave the vigilance of the Chileans for the sake of a catch,
the crew at once became very brave and bustled about as though they were
willing to sail right into the entire fleet of the enemy.

In a short time the breakers were heard booming in on the rocks of
Frouton and the sloop was run to a safe anchorage under the cliffs,
in smooth water. Paul prepared for the trip to San Lorenzo and ordered
the crew to remain by the sloop until three o'clock in the morning as
that would give them ample time to reach the mainland before the
Chileans could sight them. Launching the two torpedoes, he paddled
across the narrow but rough channel, intending to plant the torpedoes
for future use. He struck under the towering cliffs of the island and
pursued his way along them looking for a safe landing place. At times
he passed great openings in the cliffs, into which huge waves rolled and
sounded back as though dashing against some obstruction far away in the
bowels of the island, and the heavy, saline smell of seals and sea
lions escaped through the openings. At length he came to a place where
he could land without being flung against the rocks. He hauled the
torpedoes up on a smooth beach, placed them carefully under a shelf of
rock, removed the rubber dress and in his stocking feet began to climb
the steep side of the island with the intention of discovering how far
the Chilean outposts extended in his direction. It was a tiresome climb.
Up over guano beds and broken rock, and as the wind was off shore,
scarcely a breath of air came to cool the heated atmosphere and as he
toiled on, the perspiration fairly streamed from his pores. When he
reached the top, a cool land breeze fanned his perspiring face and with
an exclamation of pleasure, he seated himself on a rock to rest and
cool off. At the same moment, a dark figure started up, not thirty yards
away. There was a flash of fire, a report and a bullet passed close
to Paul's head. He drew his revolver with the intention of shooting at
the figure which was retreating; but not knowing how many soldiers
there might be around, he refrained. There was a lapse of but a few
seconds, when gun after gun was heard cracking in nearly every quarter
and that was proof to him that sentries w