steered the boat into the left bank, and then, carrying the grapnel to land, he stuck it firmly into the ground.
Here was quite a different state of affairs to that on the other side of the island. It was a deep bay, but instead of the wide, sandy beach and line of reefs and lofty cliffs as on Wreck Coast, there was a mass of rocks, among which, as Briant soon found, there were at least a score of caves.
This side of the island was consequently well fitted for habitation, and if the schooner had come ashore here, and it had been possible to float her afterwards, she could have been taken into the little harbour at the mouth of the river, where, even at low tide, there was always water.
Briant looked away out to sea, to the far horizon stretching for some fifteen miles from point to point of two sandy cliffs. The long bay, or gulf rather, was deserted — as it doubtless always was. Not a ship was in sight. On land or sea there was no sign of man. Moko, accustomed to recognize the vague lines of distant hills, moulded and marked with clouds, could discover nothing with his glasses.
Charman Island seemed to be as lonely in the east as it was in the west. And that was why Baudoin's map showed no land in that direction. And Briant contented himself with naming the gap in the coast Deception Bay.
"Come," said he, "it is not from this side we shall start when we go back."
"I think we had better have something to eat," said Moko.
"Right," said Briant, "but be quick. When can we get back up the river?"
"If you want to go by this tide, you ought to start at once."
"That is impossible. I must have a good look round the horizon from some high point."
"Then we shall have to wait for the next tide, and that means ten o'clock to-night."
