Green hoped the Vings would land soon and clean out the savages. That would leave him and his party a clear field, unless the pirates investigated the cave in the same day. If they didn’t, then the refugees could leave the island and take to the plains under cover of the night.
Anxiously, Green traced the path that led from the hilltop where he stood and wound down to the village. It was a narrow trail and he often lost sight of it. But always there was a difference in the shading of the tree tops along the trail and the rest of the forest. With his eye he could follow the shading to the village and beyond, toward the back or western part of the island.
It was here that he came across the first sign of hope he had had since the wreck of the Bird of Fortune. It was a small break in the vegetation, which ran uninterrupted to the very edge of the island, a shelf of seemingly smooth earth, almost hidden from him by the slope of the terrain. Indeed, he could barely make it out and might have missed it altogether, but he saw the masts of three small ‘rollers projecting from above the slope and followed them down toward the hulls. All three were yachts, obviously not of islander make. Beyond the stolen craft were the uprights of davits. These were behind a wall of branches, camouflage for anybody outside the island but visible to those on the inside.
It was all Green could do to keep from whooping with joy. Now he and his party wouldn’t have to cast themselves on foot on the dangerous plains. They could sail in comparative safety. Now, while the cannibals were cowering helplessly under the bombardment Green could lead his people through the woods to the yachts. When dusk came and the island began moving again they could lower a yacht from the davits and set sail.
He went back to the cave entrance, where he found everybody awake, waiting for him.
He told them what he’d seen and added, “If the Vings come aboard we’ll take advantage of the confusion and escape.”
Miran looked at the sun and shook his head. “The Vings won’t attack now. It’s too close to dusk. They’ll want a full day for fighting. They’ll follow the island tonight. When dawn comes and the island stops they’ll board.”
“I bow to your superior experience,” Green said. “Only I’d like to ask you one thing. Why don’t the Vings launch their small craft at night and land boarding parties from them?”
Miran looked surprised. “No one does that! It’s unthinkable! Don’t you know that at night the plains abound in spirits and demons? The Vings wouldn’t think of taking a chance on what the magic of the savages might unloose against them in the darkness.”
“I knew of the general attitude, but it had slipped my mind,” admitted Green. “But if this is so, why did you all wander about this place the night the Bird was wrecked?”
“That was a situation where we preferred the somewhat uncertain possibility of stumbling across demons to the certainty of being killed by the cannibals,” said Miran.
“To be honest,” said Amra, “I was too scared to think of ghosts. If I had I might have stayed where I was… No, I wouldn’t either. I’ve never seen a ghost, but I had seen those savages.”
“Well,” said Green, “all of you might as well make up your mind that, come ghosts, demons, or men, we’re walking through the dark tonight. All those too scared will have to stay behind.”
He began issuing orders, and in a short time he had the sleepy-eyed, bedraggled and dirty-looking party ready. After that, he turned to watch the bombardment.
By then it had largely ceased. Only occasionally did one of the vessels loose a single cannon shot. The rest of the time they spent in tacking back and forth and in running up close to the very edge of the island.
“I think they are trying the temper of the island’s inhabitants,” Green said. “They don’t know whether the woods conceal a hundred savages or a thousand, or whether they’re armed with cannons and muskets or just with spears. They want to draw fire, so they can get an estimate of what they’re facing.”