the quay.

This word "quay," only used in that region, exactly describes the
spot. The rocks at our feet formed a level, five or six feet above
the water, and descending to it perpendicularly, exactly like a
landing wharf.

"We must not stop here," whispered Wells, seizing me by the arm.

"No," I answered, "they might see us. We must lie crouched upon the
beach! Or we might hide in some crevice of the rocks."

"We will follow you."

There was not a moment to lose. The dark mass was now close at hand,
and on its deck, but slightly raised above the surface of the water,
we could trace the silhouettes of two men.

Were there, then, really only two on board?

We stole softly back to where the ravines rose toward the woods
above. Several niches in the rocks were at hand. Wells and I crouched
down in one, my two assistants in another. If the men on the "Terror"
landed, they could not see us; but we could see them, and would be
able to act as opportunity offered.

There were some slight noises from the boat, a few words exchanged in
our own language. It was evident that the vessel was preparing to
anchor. Then almost instantly, a rope was thrown out, exactly on the
point of the quay where we had stood.