CHAPTER V.
THE RACKBIRDS The new African was sitting on the ground, as far back from the edge of the ledge as he could get, shivering and shaking, for the water was cold.
He had apparently reached the culmination and termination of his fright.
After his tumble into the water, which had happened because he had been unable to stop in his mad flight, he had not nerve enough left to do anything more, no matter what should appear to scare him, and there was really no reason why he should be afraid of this big white man, who did not even look at him or give him a thought.
Maka's tale, which he told so rapidly and incoherently that he was frequently obliged to repeat portions of it, was to the following effect: He had thought a great deal about the scarcity of water, and it had troubled him so that he could not sleep.

What a dreadful thing it would be for those poor ladies and the captain and the boy to die because they had no water! His recollections of experiences in his native land made him well understand that streams of water are to be looked for between high ridges, and the idea forced itself upon him very strongly that on the other side of the ridge to the south there might be a stream.

He knew the captain would not allow him to leave the camp if he asked permission, and so he rose very early, even before it was light, and going down to the shore, made his way along the beach--on the same route, in fact, that the Englishman Davis had taken.

He was a good deal frightened sometimes, he said, by the waves, which dashed up as if they would pull him into the water.

When he reached the point of the rocky ridge, he had no difficulty whatever in getting round it, as he could easily keep away from the water by climbing over the rocks.
He found that the land on the other side began to recede from the ocean, and that there was a small sandy beach below him.