There was no sign of activity among the natives. They sat stolidly in their canoes, their eyes bent upon the ship, perched high before them, and these sentries were destined to remain at their posts for many days to come. Now that we were discovered we experienced a feeling of relief. Whatever might happen from this time on we could accept calmly and with our eyes wide open. It was no game of hide and seek, but open defiance. “I suppose we must accept this as a declaration of war,” remarked Señor de Jiminez at the breakfast table. The ladies had all risen early to go on deck and examine the canoe patrol, so for once we were a complete assemblage. “It certainly is no peaceful demonstration,” I replied. “Still, we may be able to treat with them and peace establish,” continued the Colombian. “Let us offer to give them a few guns if they will let us go.” I noticed Nux grinning in a corner of the cabin and was at once reminded of the humor of the suggestion advanced. “Do they know about guns, Nux?” I asked. “No, Mars Sam.” “If they did,” I asserted, “they’d realize their ability to capture all we have. But I understand these people never treat with intruders.” “We did not mean to intrude!” exclaimed Madam de Alcantara in a frightened voice. “No; it was forced upon us,” I agreed. “I wonder if these fellows, to whom a ship like ours is unknown, are not amazed to find the _Seagull_ set high upon the rocks of their coast.” “All savage tribes,” remarked Señor de Jiminez, reverting to the former subject, “are said to deal with foreigners as they are dealt with. These people may be inimical to other native tribes, who sometimes come to fight and rob them, but it seems to me if we treat them politely they will become friendly in return.” “You may try it, if you like,” said Uncle Naboth dryly. “They didn’t wait to discover whether Ned Britton’s party were polite or not; they jest shot ’em up an’ asked no questions.” “Oh, dear!” wailed Madam de Alcantara. “I’m sure we shall all be murdered by these heathen brutes. Why—oh, why—did I ever sail on your ill-fated ship!” and the poor lady began to shed real tears. Lucia’s mother had a weak character, in spite of her proud and haughty airs when safe ashore in a civilized community. Any adverse fortune floored her at once and I am sure she had already suffered agonies such as ordinary death could not equal. Her daughter, attentive and sympathetic in a charming, unobtrusive way, sought to console and encourage her parent; but it was a hopeless task. The sight of the natives had completely unnerved Madam de Alcantara, and she sobbed so bitterly that Lucia had to lead her to her room.