When the two squadrons re-formed and wheeled majestically away into the evening sky, not a single shellburst followed them. The Jap antiaircraft was wiped out. Instead of ack-ack a vast pillar of smoke and flame mushroomed up from the smitten jungle. For some moments afterward no word was spoken aboard the drifting boat. That swift, devastating raid had left the watchers awed, and a little dazed. Chick Enders was the first to break silence. “So,” he exclaimed hoarsely, “that’s the way a real air-blitz sounds and looks from below! The next time I’m laying big eggs on Hirohito’s little boys, I’ll know better what I’m dishing out to them!” Most of the crew wanted to paddle ashore immediately, but Barry restrained them. Unless the Jap beach patrols had received orders to leave their posts, they would still be there. No single bombing raid, however terrible, could demoralize those tough, stupid little beasts. Their meager mental life was shaped and ruled by discipline. Only their higher officers were trained to think their way out of a difficulty. The night came swiftly, with no clouds to reflect the sun’s afterglow. This night there would be a brief interval between sunset and moonrise—just enough to let the catamaran paddle ashore unseen. The strong arms of Barry and his teammates made the most of it. Just as the moon’s silver rim peeped over the eastern horizon, they grounded their craft at the jungle’s edge, in the shelter of a little sandspit. Since the tide was high, and already beginning to ebb, there was no need to tie the catamaran. Pulling it just out of reach of the waves, the whole party left it, and followed Barry into the bush. “Dora,” the young skipper said, low-voiced, “you and your people will stay here, within sight of Nanu and the catamaran. You can stretch your legs, but don’t move about too much or make a noise. I’ll leave Mickey Rourke on guard with his tommy-gun. He’ll watch for Japs and keep an eye on Crayle. The rest of the boys will go with me to look for a mast. If we should run into trouble we have our pistols.” “I’d rather we all went with you, Barry,” the girl responded. “We could carry Nanu into the bush where he wouldn’t be found. Where there’s danger, we shouldn’t be separated.” “If we were all fighting men, I’d agree with you, Dora,” he said. “As it is, you have no right to risk the lives of your people in order to stand by me and my crew. If a Jap patrol spots the catamaran while we’re gone, your job, and Mickey Rourke’s, is to fight clear of the beach and push out to sea. Never mind the rest of us. Naturally I hope neither you nor we are going to be discovered; but if we should be—well, so long and take care of yourself!”