Something was not right. With the patience born of the sea, he waited. Minutes ticked by and the sun burned hot. Sweat ran in rivulets down his back and his arms ached from holding his posture still he did not move. At last his patience was rewarded for his ears picked up the sound of soft steps on the rocks, several people coming his way. He lay completely still, the blade of his knife burrowed in the dust to stop it from glinting in the sun.