hat can one man do," said
he, "to defend all this, if there should be need?"

"Oh, I don't intend to defend it," said the other. "The point is to have
somebody here to claim it in case a coaster should touch here. I don't
expect to be murdered for the sake of a lot of guano. But I shall keep my
two rifles and other arms inside that little fort, and if I should see
any signs of rascality I shall jump inside and talk over the guano-bags,
and I am a good shot."

The Chilian shrugged his shoulders. "If I stayed here alone," said he, "I
should be afraid of nothing but the devil, and I am sure he would come to
me, with all his angels. But you are different from me."

"Yes," said Captain Horn, "I don't mind the devil. I have often camped
out by myself, and I have not seen him yet."

When Maka heard that the captain intended staying alone, he was greatly
disturbed. If the captain had not built the little fort with the
guano-bags, he would have begged to be allowed to remain with him, but
those defensive works had greatly alarmed him, for they made him believe
that the captain feared that some of the Rackbirds might come back. He
had had a great deal of talk with the other negroes about those bandits,
and he was fully impressed with their capacity for atrocity. It grieved
his soul to think that the captain would stay here alone, but the captain
was a man who could defend himself against half a dozen Rackbirds, while
he knew very well that he would not be a match for half a one. With tears
in his eyes, he begged Captain Horn not to stay, for Rackbirds would not
steal guano, even if any of them should return.

But his entreaties were of no avail. Captain Horn explained the matter to
him, and tried to make him understand that it was as a claimant, more
than as a defender of his property, that he remained, and that there was
not the smallest reason to suspect any Rackbirds or other source of
danger. The negro saw that the captain had made up his mind, and
mournfully joined his fellows. In half an hour, however, he came back to
the captain and offered to stay with him until the schooner should
return. If Captain Horn had known the terrible mental struggle which had
preceded this offer, he would have been more grateful to Maka than he had
ever yet been to any human being, but he did not know it, and declined
the proposition pleasantly but firmly.

"You are wanted on the schooner," said he, "for none of the rest can
cook, and you