The woodmen on board _The Woman in White_ received the announcement of the new Utopia in a spirit quite differing from that of Mackeller, but of course they knew nothing of the gold that had been the object of the cruise. The yacht proceeded to the side of the plateau that Stranleigh had selected as the site of his first village, and presently the air was filled with a crash of falling trees, with the ringing sound of the ax, and the snarl of the saw. Gamekeepers and crew were all set to work, those who could not chop being useful at the two-handed saw, or the rolling of logs to the river bank, where Stranleigh ordered them to be piled. Mackeller and the telegrapher occupied their lonely perch night and day, and sent in reports of progress. At last Mackeller announced that the loading of ore had gone so far that the Plim-soll’s mark on the _Rajah’s_ side was already submerged, which fact, added Mackeller, showed that the steamer did not intend sailing to England. Within half an hour of the receipt of this message the swift little motor boat brought Stran-leigh and the doctor to the foot of Outlook Hill, and presently the two arrived at the summit. “Mackeller,” said Stranleigh, “turn your telescope upstream to the first bit of clear water you see.” While Mackeller was doing this, the chief turned to the operator--and said: “Send a message to your colleague: these words--‘Let’em all come.’ Ask him to repeat them to show that he has understood.” “Are you expecting an attack?” asked Mackeller, putting his own interpretation on the familiar defiant phrase. “A sort of an attack,” replied Stranleigh. “You watch the surface of that water, and tell me what you see.” “Oh!” cried Mackeller, “there seems to be a raft coming down.” “No, they are separate logs. They have understood our signal, doctor, and have acted promptly. Now, Mackeller, turn your glass on the floating mines, and give up your place to the doctor. I have promised him the first sight. How many mines did they lay down, Mackeller?” “I don’t know, sir.” “Ah, yes, I remember; you were asleep at your post. Well, I’m happy to inform you that the number I saw placed in the river was exactly twenty-seven. Now, Mr. Telegrapher, stand up here and make yourself useful. If explosions occur, no man is to speak, but each is to keep count of the number of spurts of water he sees, then we will compare notes at the end of the fusillade.” “By Jove!” exclaimed the doctor, his eyes glued to the telescope.