But they sped out of the twilight into the morning glory of the open bay, and never a savage hoot disturbed the echoes. Some of the Alaculofs had dragged a couple of canoes from beneath the trees and raced off toward the village; others had followed a coast path known only to them, while, if there were watchers by the side of that mysterious river which flowed both ways with the tide, they kept a silent vigil, awed by the force arrayed against them. As the life-boat emerged into the estuary under the vigorous sweep of six ash blades, Elsie’s wondering glance rested on the brown plumpness of a three-quarters naked girl who was gazing at Suarez with wistful, glistening eyes, much as Joey was regarding his master. In the intense, penetrating light of sunrise, the bedaubed and skin-clothed Argentine was the most unlovely object that ever captivated woman. Yet he satisfied the soul of this Fuegian maid, so what more was there to be said? Courtenay caught the happy little sigh, half laugh, half sob, with which Elsie announced her discovery of the idyl in the canoe. “We owe a lot to that young person,” he said. “None of us could make out a word she uttered when first we saw her. She loses what small amount of Spanish she can speak when she becomes excited, and it was sheer good fortune that some of the crew were with her when she swung herself down the side of the cliff to warn us of our danger; otherwise she might have been shot. I suppose Suarez told you what to expect?” “You might as well be talking Alaculof yourself for all I can follow what you are saying,” murmured Elsie happily. “Then how did _you_ know where to tie up? _We_ went too far. We lost the boat that way, and my gun as well. We had to jump for it, and it was only the boat’s stout timbers which enabled her to live through that boiling pot in the volcano. The native girl said that no Indian-built craft ever came back.” “Excellent!” said Elsie. “When we reach the ship I shall write down everything you tell me. After a time I shall begin to understand.”