"And suppose it was all a trick on his part. He may be hiding in the sandhills. He would watch you go and then come out on me. No," with a very decided shake of the head, "I go with you." So, in the morning, they set off, walked along the spit to the western point and waded and swam to the wreckage, keeping a keen look-out for first sight of the mate. "Those hideous birds!" panted The Girl, as the skirling, squabbling crew swooped and hovered over the far end of the pile. "We'll keep as far away from them as possible," and they crept up at a distance, and he proceeded to make a raft, since a supply of further stores was needed to make good their losses by the fire. So far they had come upon no signs of Macro. From the top of the pile they looked carefully all round, but beyond the usual smashed boxes and cases there was nothing to show that he had ever been there. "Where on earth can he have got to?" said Wulf. "Perhaps he's fallen into the sea, or down into some crack," said The Girl, not unhopefully. "It is always possible. He might not recognise how the fever had pulled him down." They loaded their raft without any interference from the birds, beyond the blood-curdling clamour of their angry disputations. They were quite ready to go, but still the whereabouts of the mate was a mystery, and Wulf was loth to leave it at that. He might be lying broken in some crack. If he had come to some sudden end it would be best to know it, if that were possible, so that their fears--on their own account as well as his--might be at rest. On the other hand it was quite impossible to rake over the whole pile. That would be a good month's work. A grim idea shot suddenly into Wulf's mind, as he stood looking keenly round from the highest point he could clamber up to. It came at sight of the birds whirling and clamouring round the end of the pile. Suppose ... oh,--horrible! ... yet it might very well be. "What is it?" asked The Girl anxiously, for his lips and face had tightened ominously at his thought. "Nothing, maybe. I'm going over there to see...." "Can you see anything of him?" "No." He poled the raft along the edge of the pile towards the hovering cloud of birds. "Now, I'm going to swim along here and climb up. I want to see what they're at. You will be quite safe here." She glanced at him with a startled look, fathoming his grim thought instantly, and it blanched her face for a moment. "They may turn on you," she jerked. "They seem too busy." He let himself down into the water and swam noiselessly along the side of the pile, and she stood watching anxiously. When he reached the outskirts of the whirling cloud he found a sodden crack, and drew himself in, and disappeared from her sight. Her heart kicked till it felt like choking her. Her face was strained, her eyes wide and fearful. She felt horribly alone.