We waited patiently an hour; two hours; three hours; but the boat did not return. Then patience gave way to anxiety, and finally the suspense became unbearable. After the loss of our three sailors during the storm we were reduced to eleven men, besides Uncle Naboth and myself, who were not counted members of the crew. Thirteen on board was not an especially lucky number, so that some of the men had been looking for disaster of some sort ever since we sighted the island. Those now remaining on the “Flipper” were the Captain, Ned Britton and two other sailors, Nux and Bryonia, my Uncle and myself; eight, all told. To send more men after the five who were absent would be to reduce our numbers more than was wise; yet it was impossible for us to remain inactive. Finally, Ned Britton offered to attempt to make his way through the woods, along the edge of the inlet, and endeavor to find out what had become of Acker and his men. He armed himself with two revolvers and a stout cutlass, and then we rowed him to the shore and watched him start on his expedition. Not expecting that Ned would be long absent, we did not at once return to the ship. Instead, the Captain backed the boat into deep water and lay to, that we might pick up our messenger when he reappeared. It had been agreed that if Ned came upon the mate he was to fire two shots in quick succession, to let us know that all was well. If he encountered danger he was to fire a single shot. If he wished us to come to his assistance he would fire three shots. But the afternoon passed slowly and quietly, and no sound of any kind came from the interior to relieve our anxiety. The boat returned to the ship, and Bryonia served our supper amid an ominous and gloomy silence on the part of those few who were left. There was something uncanny about this mysterious disappearance of our comrades. Had they been able to return or to communicate with us there was no doubt they would have done so; therefore their absence was fraught with unknown but no less certain terror. Big Bill Acker was a man of much resource, and absolutely to be depended upon; and Ned Britton, who had been fully warned and would be on his guard against all dangers, was shrewd and active and not liable to be caught napping. What, then, had they encountered? Wild beasts, savages, or some awful natural phenomenon which had cruelly destroyed them? Our imaginations ran riot, but it was all imagination, after all, and we were no nearer the truth. An anxious night passed, and at daybreak Uncle Naboth called a council of war, at which all on board were present. We faced a hard proposition, you may be sure, for not one of us had any information to guide him, and all were alike in the dark.