A cheerful-looking place, eh, Rimoa?"

The Maori shuddered, and there was fear in his eyes.

"No like!" he said. "This place bad, bad, bad!"

Then, as they bent to their work, the fog-bank suddenly lifted,
enveloped them, and hid the black mountain from view.

CHAPTER XIV

OUT OF THE FOG

"No, we'll not go ashore tonight," stated Captain Dabney at supper.
"We would only lose ourselves blundering about in this fog. If the
stuff is still there, it will keep until tomorrow. In the morning
we'll have a try, whether the fog has lifted or not."

"We'll find the junk unless Wild Bob and Ichi have beaten us to it,"
said Little Billy. "Hope they are not snugged close by behind this
blooming curtain."

"No danger of that," answered Ruth. "If the _Dawn_ had been anywhere
near us, I would have raised her topmasts above the bank. I didn't, so
she is neither outside nor inside. They have either been here or gone,
or they never arrived. In either case, I am thankful for Carew's
absence. Shall we stand watch and watch tonight, captain?"

"Hardly necessary," said the captain. "Make it an anchor watch. Guess
you'll welcome a couple of extra hours in your bunks. Let's see,
Martin, you stand watch with the afterguard; that will make four of
you--Ruth, Bosun, Little Billy, and Martin. Have the fo'c's'le stand
watch in batches of two. Make Chips and Sails--they have been farmers
the passage--stand watch and watch. That will make four hands on deck
at a time--plenty for any sudden emergency. But if the fog lifts
during the night, rouse the ship at once and we'll set off for the
beach. Got your directions ready, Billy?"

"Yes, in my pocket," said the hunchback. "But I venture that we all
know them by heart."

"If the fog lifts, wind may follow," added the captain. "If it breezes
up from the south we may have to hike out of here in a hurry. How much
chain is out? Forty-five? Well, have the bosun clap the devil's claw
on ahead of the shackle, and loosen the pin, in case we have to drop
the cable. And--all hands at four o'clock."

In the lottery that presently followed, Martin drew the watch from two
to four in the morning. Little Billy's paper called for from twelve to
two. Ruth and the boatswain divided the first four hours.

Before he turned in, Martin went forward to discover which of the
forecastle hands would share his vigil. When he came abreast the
galley door, where a beam of light shining