The distance was quite short, and as the lines stood well on the hard sand, I soon had her over the bank and launched her into the little popple of waves on the other side. The heap of manillas--only half of my treasure--looked very precious and shining as they lay on the sand at my feet, and I realised their immense value now in a way I had never done before. But this was no time for gloating over my riches; more than half the day was gone, the broad lagoon lay before me, and I had yet to find some secure haven for the night. So I picked up the jingling bunches and stowed them in their places along the floor of the canoe, and sitting on the deck washed the mud and sand from my feet before getting into the well. At this moment I experienced a terrible shock, for there came to my ear a single, distinct splash; and looking in the direction whence the sound seemed to come, I noticed a small creek penetrating the mangrove. It was very dark inside, but, looking at it attentively, I could just make out the blunt end of a native canoe a short distance from the entrance. Here, at the end of my journey, my customary caution had forsaken me. I had spread out the heap of shining gold in the broad daylight in such perfect confidence in there being no onlookers, that I had taken not the slightest precaution. And there could hardly be any doubt that my treasure had been seen, although the occupant of the canoe was invisible to me. It was more than provoking, for it might mean disaster, and as I stepped the mast and pushed off from the shore, I cursed my folly in making so unpardonable a slip. But when once the sail was up and the leeboard down I felt more comfortable, for a fine fresh breeze blew in from the sea, and the canoe thrashed through the water at a pace that gave me confidence in her powers. In a few minutes the shore was well astern, and I began to hug myself with the belief that the occupant of the native canoe was only some harmless fisherman gathering oysters from the mangrove roots. But, from time to time, my eyes wandered uneasily to the opening of the creek, until presently I saw the canoe emerge and, coasting rapidly down inside the sand-banks, pass through some opening out into the lagoon. There was one man in the canoe and, oyster-gatherer as he probably was, his appearance suggested something less unsophisticated than a common fisherman, for he wore a velvet smoking-cap and a jacket and trousers of coloured cotton--habiliments that seemed to savour of the native trader or “scholar man.” As soon as he had gained the open lagoon, he headed his craft straight into my wake, and the energy and purpose with which he plied his pole left me in little doubt that he was following me; from which two unpleasant corollaries might be deduced, viz. that he had seen the gold, and that he cared not a fig for my horns and beard, having detected the white man under the disguise.