"Had to. You know the reef at Poonga-Poonga. She's not worth tuppence on it if any kind of a sea kicks up, and it's ripe for a nor'wester any moment now. The crowd abandoned her completely. Didn't even dream of auctioning her. Morgan and Raff persuaded them to put her up. They're a co-operative crowd, you know, an organized business corporation, fore and aft, all hands and the cook. They held a meeting and voted to sell." "But why didn't they stand by and try to save her?" "Stand by! You know Malaita. And you know Poonga-Poonga. That's where they cut off the _Scottish Chiefs_ and killed all hands. There was nothing to do but take to the boats. The _Martha_ missed stays going in, and inside five minutes she was on the reef and in possession. The niggers swarmed over her, and they just threw the crew into the boats. I talked with some of the men. They swear there were two hundred war canoes around her inside half an hour, and five thousand bushmen on the beach. Said you couldn't see Malaita for the smoke of the signal fires. Anyway, they cleared out for Tulagi." "But why didn't they fight?" Sheldon asked. "It was funny they didn't, but they got separated. You see, two-thirds of them were in the boats, without weapons, running anchors and never dreaming the natives would attack. They found out their mistake too late. The natives had charge. That's the trouble of new chums on the coast. It would never have happened with you or me or any old-timer." "But what is Miss Lackland intending to do?" Captain Auckland grinned. "She's going to try to get the _Martha_ off, I should say. Or else why did she pay fifty-five quid for her? And if she fails, she'll try to get her money back by saving the gear--spars, you know, and patent steering- gear, and winches, and such things. At least that's what I'd do if I was in her place. When I sailed, the little girl had chartered the _Emily_--'I'm going recruiting,' says Munster--he's the skipper and owner now. 'And how much will you net on the cruise?' asks she. 'Oh, fifty quid,' says he. 'Good,' says she; 'you bring your _Emily_ along with me and you'll get seventy-five.' You know that big ship's anchor and chain piled up behind the coal-sheds? She was just buying that when I left. She's certainly a hustler, that little girl of yours." "She is my partner," Sheldon corrected.