When the other man told his tale, Maka agreed with him that it would be
far better to die of thirst than to go on any farther to look for water,
and, turning, he ran back, followed by the other, and they never stopped
to speak to each other until they had rounded the great bluff, and were
making their way along the beach toward the camp. Then his fellow-African
told Maka a great deal more, and Maka told everything to the captain.

The substance of the tale was this: A mile farther up the bay than Maka
had gone, there was a little stream that ran down the ravine. About a
quarter of a mile up this stream there was a spot where, it appeared from
the account, there must be a little level ground suitable for
habitations. Here were five or six huts, almost entirely surrounded by
rocks, and in these lived a dozen of the most dreadful men in the whole
world. This Maka assured the captain, his eyes wet with tears as he
spoke. It must truly be so, because the other African had told him things
which proved it.

A little farther up the stream, on the other side of the ravine, there
was a cave, a very small one, and so high up in the face of the rock
that it could only be reached by a ladder. In this lived five black men,
members of the company of slaves who had gone from Guiana to the
isthmus, and who had been brought down there about a year before by two
wicked men, who had promised them well-paid work in a lovely country.
They had, however, been made actual slaves in this barren and doleful
place, and had since worked for the cruel men who had beguiled them
into a captivity worse than the slavery to which they had been
originally destined.

Eight of them had come down from the isthmus, but, at various times