"Beastly rotten night to keep watch, though," commented the "Otters" Leader. "The mist is turning to rain. Tell those fellows to pile on more wood, make sure the tent pegs are firm and the guy-ropes eased off. They had better get into the tents before they get drenched." With the rain the wind rose. At first it was content with moaning fitfully, but before nine o'clock it was literally howling, the explosive fog-signals still maintaining their accompaniment every five minutes. "What's that noise?" asked Armstrong, in the interval between two stirring choruses. The Scouts listened. Above the roar of the wind and the loud tattoo of the rain upon the drum-like canvas of the tents came a weird screech, like the shriek of a human being in agony. "There it is again!" exclaimed Baker. "Perhaps some one has fallen over the cliff." "It's too loud for a man's voice," said Simpson. "All the same I don't like it," remarked Reggie Scott, in a subdued voice. "Come on, kid, you're not afraid?" asked his Leader encouragingly, as he patted the Tenderfoot on the back. "No, I'm not afraid," replied Scott. "But I wish that horrid noise would stop. There it goes again." "Pick your man, Simpson," said Atherton, in a low voice. "I've spoken to Mayne and he's game. Phillips will remain in charge of our tent, and I suppose you will let Neale know that he will be responsible for order in the 'Wolves'' tent." "Think it's any use?" asked the "Wolves'" Leader. "It's raining and blowing great guns, and a boat could hardly get across. We may be isolated here for days." "Won't matter so long as the grub holds out," replied Atherton, cheerfully. "We'll stick to our plan. With greatcoats on we shall be all right." As soon as the other occupants of the two tents were asleep, the two Leaders, with Mayne and Coventry major, donned their heavy coats and made their way down to the landing-place. It was hard work to prevent themselves being forced down the steep path at a break-neck pace, for the force of the wind behind them was terrific, but lower down the overhanging rocks afforded excellent protection. "Got your flash lamp?" asked Simpson. "I should jolly well think I have," answered Atherton. "Have you?" "Yes; but, I say, will the tents stand it? It is blowing up there." "They would have been down before this, I fancy," remarked Atherton. "There's that rummy noise again. What on earth can it be?" "We'll find out to-morrow, if it keeps on," said Simpson. "Now, Coventry, you keep first watch: two hours, my fine fellow. We'll snooze in the hollow of the rocks. If anything suspicious occur, rouse us." Sheltering as best he could, Coventry major took up his stand and commenced his lonesome vigil. He might well have been spared the task, for, although the Island acted as a kind of natural breakwater, the waves were beating so furiously on the landward side of the bay that it would be a matter of sheer impossibility for one or even three men to launch a boat.