Scotty had seen. At a point off to their right, and
only slightly below them was a second, smaller shelf. On it sat a pirate
guard, rifle across his knees, staring out to sea.

Rick swallowed his heart, which had climbed into his throat. They were
in plain sight of the guard, or at least their heads were. He backed
away as rapidly as the rough surface allowed, until the guard was no
longer in sight. He and Scotty held a whispered exchange, their voices
no louder than a zephyr.

"Keep your eyes off him," Rick said. "He may feel someone looking at
him."

"Right. He's in a wonderful position. He looks down on the shelf where
the fire is located. Did you see the ladder?"

Rick hadn't.

"It leads from his perch to the shelf. I suppose ladders lead down to
the ground from there."

The guard was an obstacle Rick hadn't expected. He wondered if the guard
on duty last night had seen him slug the pirate, and he decided it
didn't make much difference. As Zircon had said, they had to assume the
whole colony was alerted.

"Let's look out one at a time," he whispered. "I didn't see anyone on
the ledge."

He inched forward once more and put his head over the edge of the drop.
The fire on the rocky shelf was a small one, probably only a cooking
fire. There wasn't anyone in sight. He guessed the scientists must be
in a cave under the rock on which he crouched. He could only hope they
were awake.

Rick estimated the situation. It was perhaps thirty feet down to the
shelf. The guard was ten feet below, and twenty feet to his right. He
noticed that the guard didn't look down at the shelf. He was awake, but
his attention was focused outward. In all probability he was a lookout
rather than a guard, watching for signs of ship movement to the west,
the direction from which danger to the pirates might be expected to
come.

The boy withdrew and joined Scotty. "No sign of anyone on the shelf. I'm
going to lower the radio unit, anyway."

"Okay. Let's get the rod out."

Rick had carried the rod-section case on his back, tied to shoulders and
belt with line. He untied the line swiftly and assembled the rod. Scotty
helped him put the reel in place and feed the line through the guides.
Then Rick carefully wrapped the radio unit in his handkerchief, and put
the whole thing in a black denim ditty bag borrowed from Chahda for the
purpose. He secured the drawstring of the ditty bag to the end of the
fishing line and inched forward again.