Unsuspecting the Germans went on their way, and the subs, after a safe interval had elapsed, continued their way to the shore. Suddenly O'Hara gripped his companion's arm and pointed. Fifty feet below them, and at a distance of two hundred yards, was the native village. The huts were wrapped in silence. Only the women and children remained, for the men had been compelled to throw up earthworks to defend the lagoon from the anticipated attack. Outside the village stood two German soldiers armed with rifles and fixed bayonets, their duty being to prevent any of the inhabitants from leaving their huts during the night. "It's not healthy that way," he whispered. "More to the left, old man. I can hear the surf." Ten minutes more found them at the edge of the forest, and on the brink of the two cliffs, immediately opposite which the _Pelikan_ had brought up and had fought her brief and unsatisfactory action with the British gunboat. Bathed in the slanting rays of the moon, which was now on the wane, were the placid waters of the lagoon. Nothing could, it seemed, escape being detected up on that illuminated patch of sea. "By Jove!" exclaimed Denbigh excitedly. "The _Pelikan's_ cleared out." CHAPTER XIII Nocturnal Investigations "We might have guessed that," remarked O'Hara. "Oh?" "Yes; don't you see, she was spotted by our gunboat. She couldn't get away up the Mohoro River until Friday, and rather than run the risk of being sunk at anchor she's landed her mob of reservists and has put to sea again." "To be promptly snapped up? No; I don't care to admit your reasoning, old man. We haven't come all this way through that confounded forest for nothing. Listen!" A faint, rapid throbbing was borne to their ears. The sound came not from the sea but along the shore to their left, where a projecting tongue of land limited their range of vision. "Motor," announced O'Hara laconically. "And not a marine one," added Denbigh. "Come on. We'll follow this path; it's a jolly sight safer than keeping to the shore." Once again they plunged into the mangrove forest, following a beaten track that, judging by its well-worn condition, had been in existence long before the arrival of the _Pelikan_. Suddenly Denbigh halted and held up his hand. Footsteps were approaching, not those of the naked feet of natives but the booted tramp of white men. The subs took cover and waited, fervently hoping that the oncomers had not a dog with them. The party advanced slowly and haltingly, so much so that for the moment Denbigh imagined that their suspicions had been aroused. But without once glancing in the direction of the hidden officers the men passed by. One was a petty officer of the _Pelikan_. Denbigh recognized him by his bushy beard. With him were four seamen, walking two abreast. The leading pair carried a roll of something wrapped in a painted canvas cover; the others bore a large reel of wire, paying out the thin cable as they went.