enough to come to terms by mornin', now you see if he aint. We don't intend to let him an' Jack Spaniard go back to the village to blow on us, an' the first thing to be done is to fasten 'em in the cove, so that we can find 'em when we want 'em."
"How are we goin' to do it?" asked Friday.
"We'll take down the bridge," replied the governor, with a chuckle, "an' then let's see 'em get out. They don't know the channels across the shoals, so, of course, they won't dare to try to sail out; an' after the bridge is gone, there's only one way they can get across the gully. I'll larn 'em how to get up a mutiny."
The chief, after lighting his lantern, led the way down the path, and presently came to a halt on the brink of the chasm. Atkins and Jack Spaniard having crossed it a few minutes before, the rope was on the opposite side, and Friday could see no way to obtain possession of it.
"I'll tell you how I am goin' to manage it," said the governor, in answer to an inquiring glance from his companion. "I told you there is one way to get across, even after the bridge is gone, didn't I? Well, do you see this tree here? It leans over the gully, an' one of its limbs runs into the tree on the opposite side that the rope is made fast to."
Friday elevated his lantern and gazed up into the darkness, but could see nothing more than a dense canopy of leaves and branches hanging over the chasm. He shuddered at the thought of attempting to cross on so frail a bridge. "I wouldn't go up there fur nothin'," said he, "an' I wouldn't advise you to try it, either."
"Well, it aint the pleasantest job in the world," replied Sam, carelessly, "but I know just where the limb is, an' I am sure I can cross on it. Howsomever, I am free to confess, that if I could think of any other way to get the rope, I wouldn't try it."
"If you can cross that way, what's the reason that Will Atkins an' Jack Spaniard can't do it too?" inquired Friday.
"'Cause, after I get over an' come back, nobody will ever cross the gully that way again. We'll pull the limb down. Now, you hold the lantern up high an' give me all the light you can. It's mighty dark up there, an' I don't care about missin' my hold an' fallin down on them rocks."
The chief scrambled up the cliff to the tree of which he had spoken, and began to ascend it. He worked his way up with the agility of a squirrel, and presently disappeared from the view of his man below. When he came in sight again, he was on the limb that stretched out over the chasm, and which was bending and cracking beneath his weight in a manner that made Friday extremely nervous. But Sam resolutely held on his way, and finally swung himself safely into the branches of the tree on the opposite side. After securing the rope, he threw one end of it to Friday, made the other fast to the limb on which he had crossed the gully, and a few moments afterward he slid down the bluff and seated himself on the ground beside his companion, to recover his breath.
"I'll show them fellers what they are about," said he, wiping the big drops of perspiration from his face. "I'll larn 'em how to get up a mutiny, after promisin', honor bright, to obey all orders. Now, if we've got muscle enough to break that limb, we are all right."
"Couldn't Atkins make a bridge, by cuttin' down one of them trees?" asked Friday.
"No, he couldn't. The trees on that side won't fall across the gully, 'cause they all lean the other way. Ketch hold, now, an' pull fur life."
The governor and his man grasped the ropes, and, exerting all their strength, suddenly found themselves lying flat in the path. The limb, unable to resist the strain brought to bear upon it, parted with a noise like the report of a cannon, and fell crashing into the gully, carrying with it a perfect avalanche of rocks and earth which it detached from the opposite bluff. That bridge was destroyed, and there was no way of escape for the mutineers.
The next thing was to untie the rope from the limb which lay at the bottom of the chasm. The only way it could be accomplished was for one of the Crusoe men to go down into the gully, and this Friday volunteered to do. Accordingly, the end of the rope which they held in their hands was made fast to the nearest tree, and Friday, after tying the lantern around his waist, descended out of sight. In a few minutes he re-appeared, climbing the rope, which was pulled up and hidden away in the bushes.
"That job is done," said the chief, with a long breath of relief, "an' them two fellers are fastened up as tight as if they were in jail. I'll larn 'em how to get up a mutiny!"
"But, governor, how will we get across?" asked Friday.
"Easy enough. One of us will climb up an' make one end of the rope fast to this tree that leans over the gully, an' we'll swing back an' forth just as we did before. The next job we've got to do aint so easy. It's one I don't like; but, if I was a prisoner, I'd think it mighty mean of my men if they deserted me, an' I'm goin' to do to the cap'n an' Xury just as I'd like to be done by."
The governor and his man ascended to the top of the bluff, and bent their steps toward the farm-house, which was now shrouded in total darkness. The inmates had all retired to rest, happy in the belief that those of the band who had escaped had made the best of their way to the village, and that their potato-patch was safe for the rest of the night. But the Crusoe men, apprehensive that the farmer might still be on the watch, were at first very cautious in their movements. They walked around the house several times without seeing any signs of the enemy, and, growing bolder by degrees, began to search the out-buildings, hoping that Tom and his mate might be confined in one of them. But their efforts to ascertain the whereabouts of their unlucky companions were unrewarded, and, after half an hour's fruitless search, even Sam began to get discouraged.
"Mebbe they have taken them to the village already," he whispered, leaning disconsolately against a corner of the house. "If they have, the expedition is up stump, easy enough, an' we can bid good-by to all hopes of ever seein' our island. What's that? Didn't you hear some one call?"
"I thought I did," replied Friday, "but I wasn't sartin'."
"I say, governor, are you deaf? Look this way. Here we are."
The words seemed to come from the ground at their very feet; and the governor and Friday heard them plainly enough this time. Their attention was drawn to one of the cellar windows, and there they saw the two prisoners, with their faces pressed close against the bars.
"What are you doin' down there?" asked Friday, in an excited whisper. "Are you locked up?"
"I reckon," replied Xury. "We wouldn't stay here if we wasn't, would we?"
"O, now, yes, we're locked up," drawled Tom, who, delighted as he was at seeing the chief, could not forget his lazy way of talking. "But you are going to let us out, are you not?"
"Sartin. That's what we come here fur, an' we'll do it if we have to burn the shantee."
"You needn't go to all that trouble, governor," said Xury. "Do you see that door around there on the other side of the house?"
Sam walked around the building, and when he came back, he said that he had seen the door.
"Well," continued Xury, "all you have got to do is to raise a rumpus out there, an' awaken the people up stairs."
"Humph!" sneered Sam.
"Hold on till I get through, governor. Of course, when they hear you, they'll come out an' foller you; an' when the men have all left the house, one of you can slip back an' cut down that door an' let us out. Here's an ax to do it with," he added, passing the implement through the window to the chief.
"That's a good idea, after all," said Sam.
"Friday, you take the ax, an' I'll do the runnin'. I'll lead the fellers toward
