The shrill pipe of the bos'n's whistle, adroitly manipulated by big Merridew, brought the working-party out of their bunks with the utmost alacrity. During the stay of the _Titania_ at Nua Leha the system of routine was to be drastically altered. The port and starboard watches, responsible for the care and maintenance of the ship, were reduced to three men each. The remainder were amalgamated into a working-party whose hours--voluntary, and not subjected to the dictates of a Trades Union--were from sunrise to sunset, with intervals for meals and recreation. Thursday afternoons were "make and mend", as in the Royal Navy, while, except on urgent matters to safeguard the vessel, no work was permitted on Sundays. From eleven in the morning till two in the afternoon was "stand easy", since the heat was too great to allow Europeans to work without grave risk. For the first time since the _Titania_ left Southampton the twenty-eight-foot cutter, stowed amidships, was hoisted out. Her gunwales were protected with rope fenders; she was made fast alongside, and the work of sending stores and gear to the beach proceeded immediately after breakfast. By the time "stand easy" arrived the two sea-planes had been hoisted out and were in advanced stages of reassembly, under the supervision of Trevear. Claverhouse had, in accordance with instructions, gone ashore early to fix upon a likely site for a sea-plane station. With him went Dick Beverley, proudly grasping a .303 rifle, and with his pockets bulging with an assortment of treasures, including sandwiches and half a dozen ball cartridges. The ex-R.A.F. officer and his young companion made their way along the glistening coral beach, on which the limpid water lapped gently under the influence of a light on-shore wind. A walk of a quarter of a mile brought them to the bold headland on the northern side of the little bay in which the _Titania_ lay at anchor. Here the dark, volcanic rocks ended in a ledge that projected about fifty yards from the general shore-line. At the extremity of the natural breakwater the bed of the lagoon dropped abruptly to a depth of five fathoms, although the bottom could be clearly discerned. "Topping place for a bathe," suggested Dick. "Quite," agreed Claverhouse, "that is, if it's all right. You'd better hang on till you know there's no danger." "There are no sharks about," declared the lad. "Take your word for it, old man," replied Claverhouse. "All the same, I wouldn't dangle my feet in the water if I were you. There may be ground sharks, and I believe they don't hesitate to snap at a pair of paddling trilbies." "What's a fellow to do if he can't have a swim?" inquired Dick. "If----" His words ended in a shout of horrified surprise as a long tapering tentacle shot out from under a projecting rock and securely fastened itself to the lad's bare ankle. Then another and yet another dark, slimy tentacle obtained a grip upon his leg.