CHAPTER IX ALFONSO’S ANTOINETTE Nothing happened this second day of our imprisonment. The Faytans evidently had some plan of campaign mapped out, or they would not have established the patrol of canoes. We began to consider what their intentions could be. “Let’s give ’em credit for a leetle intelligence,” said Uncle Naboth, who had been studying the natives through his binoculars. “The chief that runs this place must have some ability, and as soon as he discovered us here he must ’a’ thought it all out. Mebbe he lay awake doin’ it, for next mornin’ we found them canoes on guard. That was the first trick in the game.” “Not a bad one, either,” I remarked. “Not from the chief’s standpoint. It kept us from escapin’ in the boats, which is the one thing, it seems, he don’t intend to let happen. Now, our boys here,” pointing to Bryonia and Nux, “have a notion that the Pearl People don’t want any strangers around. They never let ’em land, if they can help it, and drive ’em away or kill ’em. Accordin’ to that theory the Faytans ought to be glad to have us go. But here they are, keepin’ us fast prisoners. Why’s that, Bry?” Bryonia had stood moodily silent. He now looked up and shook his head. “Can’t say, Mars Nabot’,” he answered. But he spoke in a hesitating way that led me to think he preferred not to speak frankly. “It’s really a puzzler,” resumed Uncle Naboth. “If they mean to kill us, why don’t they start in and fight it out?” “Perhaps they realize our position is impregnable,” I suggested. “It ain’t exactly that,” declared my uncle. “If they happen to think to shoot some burnin’ arrers at us, they can easily set fire to the ship, an’ then we’re done for.” “Not knowin’ about ships, they may not think of that,” said my father, uneasily. “Well, what then?” asked De Jiminez. “Then,” replied Joe, “the wily islanders expect to conquer us in one of two ways. First to starve us out, and—” “They can’t do that in a hurry,” muttered the Captain. “And second to let us die of thirst,” continued Joe. We all became thoughtful at this suggestion. I knew we had supplies of fresh water sufficient for an ordinary voyage, and an aërator to doctor it with if it became stagnant and unpalatable; but barreled water is not the safest thing to depend upon, and thirst was a greater menace than lack of food. Yet it seemed improbable that a savage chieftain would have thought this all out and determined upon so tedious and unwarlike a plan of conquest. Afterward I found Bryonia alone and said to him: “Why do you think the Faytans wish to keep us here?” “Don’ know, Mars Sam.” “Yes you do, Bry. Anyhow, you’ve some idea.” “I may be wrong.” “This is in confidence, Bry. You may trust me.” He hesitated a moment. “I wish, Mars Sam,” he said in a low voice, speaking his native tongue, “that the lady passengers had not showed themselves.”