"Good; leave a couple of boat-keepers in charge and join the party with the whaler," continued the officer. "If you cannot manage her, ask for additional hands, but I think you will be able to drag her up. The ground is hard and level." Away went the working-party, leaving the pinnace in charge of two seamen, who, having taken the strain off the bow cables, for the tide was rising, sat stolidly in the stern-sheets. Above the distant roar of the surf, Denbigh could distinguish the thud of the pickaxes and spades. He would have given a lot to see what the diggers were doing, but the presence of the boat-keepers compelled him to crouch, cramped and cold in the bows. Although the day had been exceedingly hot, the night air was decidedly chilly, the sand radiating the heat with great rapidity the moment the sun set. Clad in light garments, Denbigh shivered and wished that he could stretch his limbs. The boat-keepers felt the cold, too, for after a little while they began to swing their arms. Finally they jumped ashore and began to pace to and fro. Having warmed themselves, the men sat upon the sand, and produced pipes and tobacco. The sub distinctly heard the rasping of matches, and gradually the odour of South American tobacco assailed his nostrils. The men had begun to talk, desultory conversation soon working up into an animated conversation. Cautiously Denbigh stretched his limbs. Then waiting until the numbness had practically disappeared, he grasped the gunwale and slowly raised himself until his head was level with one of the rowlocks, the poppet of which had fortunately been removed. His range of vision was limited. In the bright starlight he could discern the diggers. Already the bulk of the stores were hidden, while at a distance of twenty yards from the cache, other men were excavating a long trench, by the side of which lay the whaler. The depth of the hole was now about five feet, and only the heads of the workers were visible from the pinnace. The sub waited and watched, keeping a sharp look-out lest the boat-keepers should return. Presently he became aware that his range of vision was changing. The rising tide was swinging the pinnace diagonally with the shore. Denbigh promptly returned to his lair. He was not a minute too soon, for just as he settled himself the boat-keepers returned and took up the strain on the bow ropes. "A good rise and fall for neap tides," remarked one of the men. "If we get as much as this tomorrow we ought to be able to cross the bar. I don't fancy having to remain at anchor in this lagoon until the new moon with those English cruisers prowling around."