"A Chinese junk," answered the Irish sailor. "Oi kin tell 'em as far as Oi kin see 'em."
"Well, we don't want anything to do with their junks," I answered. "It was a Chinese craft that knocked that hole in the Dart."
Soon the sail disappeared from view on its way up the coast, and we started to continue our journey. We had gone on less than a mile when a strange tramping behind us brought us to a halt.
"What is that?" I questioned, as I drew my pistol.
"Horsemen approaching, I reckon," murmured Dan. "We had better hide."
But hiding was not so easy, as only some tall trees were around, the ground being too stony for small brush of any thickness.
"They be comin' closer!" cried Matt Gory. "Sure an' we had betther take to the trees, me b'ys!"
"We'll have to help one another up," I said. "Come on."
We chose some mahogany trees, two growing close together. By boosting and hauling we managed with much difficulty to gain the lower limbs just as the newcomers came into view around a turn of a hillside.
"Gracious! Buffalo bulls!" cried Dan.
"Sure an' they are no inimies!" cried Matt
