"Squeeze into your corner.

There is a Dyak on the opposite cliff." True enough, a man had climbed to that unhappily placed rocky table, and was shouting something to a confrere high on the cliff over their heads.

As yet he had not seen them, nor even noticed the place where they were concealed.

The sailor imagined, from the Dyak's gestures, that he was communicating the uselessness of further search on the western part of the island.
When the conversation ceased, he hoped the loud-voiced savage would descend.

But no! The scout looked into the valley, at the well, the house, the cave.