for
cooking-fires. It was also easy to see that these pieces of wood had
once been part of a boat, perhaps of a wreck thrown up on shore. The
captain approached the pile of wood and picked up some of the pieces. As
he held in his hand a bit of gunwale, not much more than a foot in
length, his eyes began to glisten and his breath came quickly. Hastily
pulling out several pieces from the mass of debris, he examined them
thoroughly. Then he stepped back, and let the piece of rudder he was
holding drop to the sand.

"Cheditafa," said he, speaking huskily, "this is one of the Castor's
boats. This is a piece of the boat in which Rynders and the men set out."

The negro looked at the captain and seemed frightened by the expression
on his face. For a moment he did not speak, and then in a trembling voice
he asked, "Where all them now?"

The captain shook his head, but said nothing. That pile of fragments was
telling him a tale which gradually became plainer and plainer to him, and
which he believed as if Rynders himself had been telling it to him. His
ship's boat, with its eight occupants, had never gone farther south than
the mouth of the little stream. That they had been driven on shore by the
stress of weather the captain did not believe. There had been no high
winds or storms since their departure. Most likely they had been induced
to land by seeing some of the Rackbirds on shore, and they had naturally
rowed into the little cove, for assistance from their fellow-beings was
what they were in search of. But no matter how they happened to land,
the Rackbirds would never let them go away again to carry news of the
whereabouts of their camp. Almost unarmed, these sailors must have fallen
easy victims to the Rackbirds.

It was not unlikely that the men had been shot down from ambush without
having had any intercourse or conversation with the cruel monsters to
whom they had come to seek relief, for had there been any talk between
them, Rynders would have told of his companions left on shore, and these
would have been speedily visited by the desperadoes. For the destruction
of the boat there was reason enough: the captain of the Rackbirds gave
his men no chance to get away from him.

With a heart of lead, Captain Horn turned to look at his negro
companions, and saw them all sitting together on the sands, chattering
earnestly, and holding up their hands with one or more fingers extended,
as if they were counting. Cheditafa ca