of his story:

About the middle of the afternoon of the day before, a wonderful thing
happened. The Rackbirds had had their dinner, which they had cooked
themselves, and they were all lying down in their huts or in the shadows
of the rocks, either asleep, or smoking and telling stories. Cheditafa
knew why they were resting. The Rackbirds had no idea that he understood
English, for he had been careful to keep this fact from them after he
found out what sort of men they were,--and this knowledge had come very
soon to him,--and they spoke freely before him. He had heard some of the
men who had been out looking for Mok, and who had come back early that
morning, tell about some shipwrecked people in a cave up the coast, and
had heard all the plans which had been made for the attack upon them
during the night. He also knew why he and his fellows had been cooped up
in the cave in the rock in which they lived, all that day, and had not
been allowed to come down and do any work.

They were lying huddled in their little cave, feeling very hungry and
miserable, and whispering together,--for if they spoke out or made any
noise, one of the men below would be likely to fire a load of shot at
them,--when suddenly a strange thing happened.

They heard a great roar like a thousand bulls, which came from the
higher part of the ravine, and peeping out, they saw what seemed like a
wall of rock stretching across the little valley. But in a second they
saw it was not rock--it was water, and before they could take two breaths
it had reached them. Then it passed on, and they saw only the surface of
a furious and raging stream, the waves curling and dashing over each
other, and reaching almost up to the floor of their cave.