Bertha Millner" was
far behind them by now, a vague gray mass in the early morning light.

"Did you ever fight before?" Moran suddenly demanded of Charlie.

"One time I fight plenty much in San Flancisco in Washington stleet.
Fight um See Yups."

Another half-hour passed. At times when they halted they began to hear
the faint murmur of the creek, just beyond which was the broken and
crumbling shanty, relic of an old Portuguese whaling-camp, where the
beach-combers were camped. At Charlie's suggestion the party made a
circuit, describing a half moon, to landward, so as to come out upon the
enemy sheltered by the sand-dunes. Twenty minutes later they crossed the
creek about four hundred yards from the shore. Here they spread out into
a long line, and, keeping an interval of about fifteen feet between each
of them, moved cautiously forward. The unevenness of the sand-breaks hid
the shore from view, but Moran, Wilbur, and Charlie knew that by keeping
the creek upon their left they would come out directly upon the house.

A few moments later Charlie held up his hand, and the men halted. The
noise of the creek chattering into the tidewater of the bay was plainly
audible just beyond; a ridge of sand, covered thinly with sage-brush,
and a faint column of smoke rose into the air over the ridge itself.
They were close in. The coolies were halted, and dropping upon their
hands and knees, the three leaders crawled to the top of the break.
Sheltered by a couple of sage-bushes and lying flat to the ground,
Wilbur looked over and down upon the beach. The first object he made out
was a crazy, roofless house, built of driftwood, the chinks plastered
with 'dobe mud, the door fallen in.

Beyond, on the beach, was a flat-bottomed dingy, unpainted and foul with
dirt. But all around the house the sand had been scooped and piled
to form a low barricade, and behind this barricade Wilbur saw the
beach-combers. There were eight of them. They were alert and ready,
their hatchets in their hands. The gaze of each of them was fixed
directly upon the sand-break which sheltered the "Bertha Millner's"
officers and crew. They seemed to Wilbur to look him straight in the
eye. They neither moved nor spoke. The silence and absolute lack of
motion on the part of these small, half-naked Chinamen, with their
ape-like muzzles and twinkling eyes, was ominous.

There could be no longer any doubts that the beach-combers had known
of their enemies' movements