Then we came to more thick bushes and briars, ran up against some stumpy trees with rocks in between them, and found ourselves climbing upwards. In a minute we had to climb hand over hand, very steep it was, and I thought we should never stop, and the noise we made seemed prodigious. The light of the camp-fire appeared once again. We halted, and could see the two men still listlessly standing over it. They had not heard us yet, and we scrambled upwards till the light was once more shut out from us. At last we clambered on to what seemed to be a little ledge among the rocks. I could go no farther, and fell down in a heap. We lay down on this ledge, huddled close together for warmth, till gradually and slowly the darkness diminished. First we could distinguish one another’s faces and the long grass we were lying in, the thick bushes in front of us, and rock and more bushes behind and on each side. Gradually we could make out the cold surface of the water below us, and presently, right away over the harbour, some ship struck four bells (six o’clock), another and another repeated, and we could hear the shrill pipes as the hands were turned out,[#] probably on board the pirate cruisers. [#] Men turned out of their hammocks by the Bos’n’s pipe. From across the water came the throbbing sound of a native gong, one solitary one at first, then two or three more, till it seemed as if hundreds were being beaten, the noise rising and falling till the whole harbour seemed to be filled with it. Lights flared up as fires were lighted, and we knew that the pirate village was bestirring itself. As the dawn approached we could realize our position. We were perched on a ledge some sixty feet up the steep face of a rocky uneven cliff, covered with thickset, dwarfed trees and gorse-like bushes, growing wherever they could find foothold. Beneath us ran the path, along the water’s edge, which we had crossed an hour before, and the overhanging tree which concealed the water-logged dinghy, and along whose branches we had scrambled ashore. "If they don’t spot the dinghy or the damage we did clambering up here," chuckled the Commander, "we shall be as safe as in a church, and simply have to lie snug till nightfall." Then happened what I have recalled since with even more horror than the remainder of that day’s dangers, and which absolutely seemed to freeze up the whole of my inside. It was my own fault, you see, and very nearly placed us all in the most frightful danger. By pushing aside a tussock of thick grass and looking down I could just see that path, and as it grew light enough to distinguish objects I saw something dark lying in the middle of it, right in the open. It seemed strangely familiar, and involuntarily I put my hand to my head. My cap was missing, and was lying there right in the path, a path well trodden down and evidently much used.