"Cast off," said the lieutenant; and as the cutter dropped back free, the lugger seemed to spring forward into faint mist, which began to show upon the broad surface of the great river, while the sloop glided up alongside, one of the men caught the rope that was heaved to them, and directly after Murray missed their pilot and his swift craft, for it was eclipsed by the Seafowl as she glided between, right in the lugger's wake.



CHAPTER SEVEN.

TRAPPED.

"Well, Mr Anderson," said the captain, as the latter briefly related the last sayings of the American, "that's all plain enough, and in a few minutes we ought to be alongside."

"Yes, sir, after following the windings of the river, or in other words following our guide, till we see the masts of the schooner above the trees." And the lieutenant stood anxiously watching the lugger, which seemed to have rapidly increased its distance. "I presume, sir, that we are all ready for action?"

"Of course we are, Mr Anderson," said the captain stiffly. "We shall keep on till we are pretty close, then run up into the wind, and you and Mr Munday will head the boarders. We shall take them so by surprise that there will be very little resistance. But I see no signs of the schooner's spars yet."

"No, sir, but we have to make another bend round yet."

"Yes, of course," said the captain, as he swept the river banks with his night glass.

"The river seems to fork here, though, sir," said the lieutenant anxiously.

"Humph! Yes; but I suppose it's all right, for the lugger keeps on. We must be on the correct course if we follow him."

"Beg pardon, sir," said Murray excitedly. "I caught sight of the masts of a vessel lying yonder."

"Eh? Where, Mr Murray?" said the captain, in a low voice full of excitement.

"Yonder, sir, about half a mile to starboard, beyond the trees on the bank."

"To be sure! Tall taper spars. I see, Mr Murray."

"But the sloop is running straight away to port, sir," said the lieutenant anxiously.

"Well, what of that, Mr Anderson? Did not the American tell you that we were to follow certain bends of the river?"

"Yes, sir, but—"

"Yes, sir, but!" said the captain, in an angry whisper. "Is this a time for raising buts? According to your own showing, the schooner was to be found at anchor in one of the bends where the black chief's town lay."

"Yes, sir, but I see no sign of any thatched huts."

"All in good time, Mr Anderson. We shall see the lugger swing round that next point directly, and then we shall be in full view of our prize."

The captain turned from his chief officer impatiently, and then in a low tone issued a few orders with respect to future proceedings, the master following out the instructions, while the two boarding parties, each armed and ready, stood waiting for the command which should launch them on board the now invisible slaver.

"Bah!" ejaculated the captain. "We are half-an-hour too late. We ought to be alongside now. Hang the fellow, Mr Anderson! Can he be taking us the right way round that point?"

"I hope so, sir, but I have my suspicions," replied the lieutenant anxiously.

"What, that he is playing us false?"

"No, sir, but that he has lost heart and is afraid to pilot us right to where the schooner lies."

"The scoundrel! If he has—" began the captain, sharing now in his subordinate's anxiety. "Oh, impossible! He must know better than we do. Ahoy, there!" he cried, speaking just loud enough for the lookout to hear. "Can you make out where the lugger is making for?"

"Ay, ay, sir! Bit of a creek yonder, right inshore."

"That's it, sir," cried the lieutenant excitedly; "he has taken fright. We must run round that bend yonder, keeping to mid-stream."

"Or anchor," exclaimed the captain sharply. "Why, confound it, man! The river forks here, and we are in a branch with a current running in another direction. Stand by there to lower the anchor!" he roared, "or we shall be ashore."

The order came too late, for as in obedience to order after order, the sloop's course was altered and her sails began to shiver, there was a preliminary shock as if bottom had been lightly touched, then a shiver which seemed to communicate itself upward from the deck through Murray's spine, and the next minute the Seafowl heeled over slightly as she seemed to cut her way onward into the soft mud, where she stuck fast with the fierce current into which they had run pressing hardly against her side as it raced swiftly by.

"Trapped!" said a voice from close to Murray's ear, and the young man turned swiftly from where he had been gazing over the side in the direction of the further shore, to encounter the first lieutenant's angry eyes. "Well, Mr Murray," he said bitterly, "where is that Yankee snake?"

"Just gliding in yonder among the trees, sir," cried the young man passionately. "I suspected him from the first."

"Well, Mr Anderson," said the captain, hurrying up, and as coolly as if nothing whatever was wrong, "either you or I have placed the sloop in about as unpleasant a position as it was possible to get. Now then, how about getting out of it?"

"We're on soft mud, sir," said the gentleman addressed.

"And with a falling tide, I'm afraid. There, get to work man, and see what can be done with an anchor to haul her upon a level keel before the position is worse, for we shall board no slaver to-day."

"Beg pardon, sir."

"What is it, Mr Murray?"

The midshipman pointed right aft, where the faint mist was floating away from where it hung about a mile away over the distant shore.

"Well, sir, why don't you speak?" cried the captain, now speaking angrily. "Oh, I beg your pardon, Mr Murray; another mist was in my eyes. That must be the course of the other fork of the river. I see it plainly now. We have been lured up here and run upon this muddy shoal in the belief that we shall never get off; and there goes our prize with her load of black unfortunates. Do you see her, Mr Anderson?"

"Too plainly, sir," said the chief officer sadly.

For it was now broad daylight and the swift-looking schooner was gliding along apparently through the trees which covered a narrow spit of land.

"Hah!" said the captain quietly. "Yes, that's it, Mr Anderson—our prize, and a beautiful morning for her to make her start for the West Indies. Bless that straightforward, timorous, modest American skipper! Do you know, Mr Anderson, I am strongly of opinion that he commands that craft and that he will find his way through some of the muddy creeks and channels of the mangrove forest back to where she will be waiting for him. Well, master, what do you think?" he continued, as that officer came up hurriedly. "Will the sloop lie over any further?"

"No, sir; that is stopped; but we are wedged in fast."

"So I suppose. Well, Mr Thomson, it does not mean a wreck?"

"No, no, sir, nor any damage as far as I can say."

"Damage, Mr Thomson," said the captain, smiling at him pleasantly; "but it does, man; damage to our reputation—mine—Mr Anderson's. But you were going to say something, to ask me some question."

"Yes, sir; about taking steps to get the sloop out of the bed in which she lies."

"Poor bird, yes; but you see no risk for the present?"

"Not the slightest, sir. The mud is so soft."

"Mud generally is, Mr Thomson," said the captain blandly. "Well, then, let her rest for a while. We are all tired after a long night's work. Pass the word to Mr Dempsey, and let him pipe all hands for breakfast. I want mine badly."

There was a faint cheer at this, followed by another, and then by one which Murray said was a regular "roarer."

"I say," he said to Roberts, "doesn't he take it splendidly!"

"Don't you make any mistake," replied that young gentleman. "He seems as cool as a cucumber, but he's boiling with rage, and if he had that Yankee here he'd hang him from the yard-arm as sure as he's his mother's son."

"And serve him right," said Murray bitterly.

"What's that, young gentlemen?" said the captain, turning upon them sharply, for he had noted what was going on and placed his own interpretation upon the conversation—"criticising your superiors?"

"No, sir," said Murray frankly; "we were talking about punishing the Yankee who tricked us into this."

"Gently, Mr Murray—gently, sir! You hot-blooded boys are in too great a hurry. Wait a bit. I dare say we shall have the pleasure of another interview with him; and, by the way, Mr Anderson, I think as we are so near, we might as well inspect the indiarubber plantations of our friend. We might see, too, if he has any more work-people of the same type as those who manned his galley."

"I'm afraid we should only find them on board the schooner, sir," said the chief officer bitterly.

"Exactly," said the captain; "but I wonder at you young gentlemen," he continued—"you with your sharp young brains allowing yourselves to be deceived as you were. Those fellows who formed the lugger's crew ought not to have hoodwinked you."

"They did me, sir," said Roberts, speaking out warmly, "but Murray, here, sir, was full of suspicion from the first."



CHAPTER EIGHT.

AMONGST THE HORRORS.

The crew of the Seafowl had a busy day's work after a good refresher, during which officers and men had been discussing in low tones the way in which "the skipper," as they called him, had let himself be tricked by the Yankee. The younger men wanted to know what he could have been about, while the elder shook their heads sagely.

"Ah," more than one said, "it has always been the same since the revolution; these Yankees have been too much for us. There's something in the American air that sharpens their brains."

Then old Dempsey, the boatswain, who had heard pretty well all that the captain had said, chewed it over, digested it, and gave it voice as if it was something new, to first one knot of listeners and then another, ending with the two midshipmen.

"You see, Mr Murray, and you too, Mr Roberts, it was like this. That schooner had just started for the West Injies with a full load of niggers, when she sighted the Seafowl and knowed she was a king's ship looking after a prize."

"How could the Yankee skipper know that?" said Murray. "He could only get just a glimpse before we were hidden by the fog."

"Cut of the jib, sir—cut of the jib," said the old man. "What else could he think? 'Sides, Yankee slaving skippers have got consciences, same as other men."

"Rubbish, Mr Dempsey!" said Roberts contemptuously.

"Course they are, sir—worst of rubbish, as you say, but there's bad consciences as well as good consciences, and a chap like him, carrying on such work as his, must be always ready to see a king's ship in every vessel he sights. But well, young gentlemen, as I was a-saying, he sights us, and there was no chance for him with us close on his heels but dodgery."

"Dodgery, Mr Dempsey?" said Roberts.

"Yes, sir; Yankee tricks. Of course he couldn't fight, knowing as he did that it meant a few round shot 'twixt and 'tween wind and water, and the loss of his craft. So he says to himself, 'what's to be done?' and he plays us that trick. Sends his schooner up the river while he puts off in that there lugger and pretends to be a injyrubber grower. That ought to have been enough to set the skipper and Mr Anderson thinking something was wrong, but that's neither here nor there. He pretends that he was a highly respectable sort of fellow, when all the time he was a sorter human fox, and lures, as the captain calls it, our sloop into this sort of a branch of the big river where the current runs wrong way on because part of the waters of the great river discharges theirselves. And then what follows?"

"Why, we were carried by the strange current into the muddy shallow and nearly capsized, Mr Dempsey, while we had the satisfaction of seeing the slaver sail away with her crew," interposed Murray impatiently.

The grizzly-headed, red-faced old boatswain turned upon the lad with an offended air and said with dignity—

"If you'd only had a little patience, Mr Murray, I was going to tell you all that."

He grunted audibly as he walked away, and as soon as he was out of hearing Murray cried impatiently—

"What did he want to bore us with all that for? Tiresome old fogey! But I say, Dick, you take my advice—don't you get anywhere near the skipper if you can help it to-day. He took things very smoothly before breakfast, but you'll see now that he will be as savage as a bear with a sore head, as they say, and lead every one a terrible life."

"Oh, if you are going to deal out old saws, young man," replied Roberts, "you go and teach your grandmother how to suck eggs. Just as if I was likely to go near him until he has got the sloop well afloat!"

But what proved to have been every one's opinion turned out entirely wrong, for the captain had never shown himself to better advantage.

As soon as breakfast was over, and had been partaken of in the most deliberate way as far as he was concerned, he turned to the officers, all smiles, and began giving orders in the coolest of fashions and all guided by so much judgment that by carefully laying out anchors, the use of the capstan, haulage, and taking advantage of the wind, the sloop soon rose upon an even keel and rested at last in a safe position. The tide that ran up as far as the black king's city did the rest, and the next day the sloop lay at anchor just where the schooner had been the previous morning, that is to say, in a position where she could easily gain access to the sea.

Once the sloop was in safety and the officers had pretty well mastered the intricacies of the river's course, and the tidal and other currents which protected the slaver's lair, a couple of armed boats pulled ashore to examine the place with caution, lest they should encounter some other trap.

"There's no knowing, Mr Anderson," said the captain, "so at the slightest sign of danger draw back. I don't want a man to be even wounded at the expense of capturing a score of the black scum, even if one of them proves to be the king."

The captain's orders were carefully carried out, while once more the two midshipmen succeeded in accompanying the landing parties, to find that the king's town of palm-thatched hovels was completely deserted. It had evidently been a busy, thickly inhabited place, where prisoners were herded together by the brutal savages who made incursions in different directions, and held their unfortunate captives ready for the coming of the slaver. But now the place was a dreary silent waste, and the trail well marked showed plainly the direction taken by the native marauders to some forest stronghold, near at hand or far distant, it was impossible to say which.

"Pah!" ejaculated Murray, as he sprang back with disgust from the strongly palisaded enclosure which was evidently the prisoners' barracks. "Let's get away, Dick."

"I'm ready," was the reply, "but I say, did you go round the other side yonder?"

The lad pointed as he spoke.

"No. What was there to see?"

"Tom May found it out," replied the midshipman, "and I was idiot enough to go. Here, Tom," he cried, signing to the generally amiable-looking sailor to approach; and he strode up, cutlass in hand, musket over his shoulder, scowling and fierce of aspect. "Tell Mr Murray what you showed me over yonder, Tom."

The man's face puckered up as he turned and met Murray's eyes.

"It's 'most too horrid, sir," he said, "and don't do no good but make a man savage, sir. There's just fourteen of 'em among the trees there."

"What, prisoners?" said Murray excitedly.

"Yes, sir, and six on 'em got the chains on 'em still."

"Well, what about the armourer?" cried Murray excitedly, turning upon Roberts. "Didn't Mr Anderson have them struck off?"

"No, lad," replied Roberts. "There was only one of them alive out of the whole fourteen, and I don't think she'll be alive when Munday comes back."

"Comes back! I didn't know he had put off again."

"Gone for the doctor," said Roberts. "Go on, Tom May. Tell him what you made it out to be."

"Just this, sir—that they'd got more than the schooner could take away, and they finished off the sick and wounded."

"How could you tell that?" said Murray, with a look of horror.

"Seemed pretty plain, sir. All the men had old wounds as well as what must have been given them to finish 'em yes'day morning, sir, when the black fellows forsook the place."

"But you said—finished the men who had old wounds?"

"Yes, sir; half healed. T'other wounds was fresh, and the women and children—"

"Women and children!" cried Murray excitedly.

"Yes, sir; knocked on the head—clubbed. Didn't care to take 'em away with them, sir, when we come."

"Oh, Dick," said Murray, whose face now looked ghastly, "I knew that there were horrors enough over the slave-trade, but I never thought it could be so bad as that. Here, Tom, where is this? Show me."

"Don't be a fool, old chap," whispered Roberts, grasping his companion's arm. "You've heard what Tom said. I've seen it too, and I could tell you, but I won't. It's too horrid to go and see again."

"Yes, it must be horrible," said the young man passionately; "but you said one poor creature was still alive?"

"Yes, and the doctor's being fetched."

"But something might be done—water—carried into the shade."

"We did all that, sir," said the sailor gruffly.

"Who did?" asked Murray excitedly.

"Well, I helped, sir, and the poor black lass looked at me as if she thought I was one of 'em going to take her aboard a slaver."

"But didn't you tell her—Oh, you are right, Dick; I am a fool! She couldn't have understood unless it was by our acts."

"Oh, don't you worry about that, Mr Murray, sir," said the man eagerly. "The poor thing took quite a turn like when I knelt down and held my waterbottle to her lips."

Murray stood looking at the man, with his brow furrowed, and then he nodded.

"Now then," he said, "where was this?"

"T'other side of this barrack place, sir," said the man; "just over yonder."

"Show me," said Murray abruptly.

"I wouldn't go, Frank," whispered Roberts.

"I must," was the reply. "Lead the way, Tom."

"One of our lads is with her, sir," said the man, hesitating.

"So much the better," cried Murray firmly. "You heard what I said?"

Roberts, who was nearest to the sailor, heard him heave a deep sigh as he gave his trousers a hitch, and led the way past the vile-smelling palm and bamboo erection which had quite lately been the prison of a large number of wretched beings, the captives made by the warlike tribe who kept up the supply of slaves for bartering to the miscreants. Those who from time to time sailed up the river to the king's town to carry on the hateful trade content if they could load up with a terrible cargo and succeed in getting one-half of the wretched captives alive to their destination in one of the plantation islands, or on the mainland.

Tom May took as roundabout a route as he could contrive so as to spare the young officers the gruesome sights that he and the other men had encountered; but enough was left to make Murray wince again and again.

"Why, Tom," he exclaimed at last, "no punishment could be too bad for the wretches who are answerable for all this."

"That's what me and my messmates have been saying, sir; and of course it's going to be a nasty job, but we're all ready and waiting for our officers to give the word—Course I mean, sir, as soon as we get the chance."

"Only wait, my lad," said Murray, through his set teeth.

"That's what we keep on doing, sir," said the man bitterly. "You see, it's pretty well all wait."

"The time will come, Tom."

"Yes, sir; course it will, and when it does—"

The man moistened the palm of his right hand, clapped it to the hilt of his re-sheathed cutlass, and half drew it from the scabbard. "My!" he ejaculated, and his eyes seemed to flash in the morning sunshine. "It's going to be a warm time for some of 'em. I shouldn't like to be in that Yankee gentleman's shoes, nor be wearing the boots of his men where they had 'em."

"Oh, but these people could not be such inhuman wretches," said Murray excitedly. "The murderous, atrocious treatment—the killing of those poor prisoners must be the act of the black chief and his men."

"Hope so, sir," said the sailor bluntly. "It's too black to be done by a white. But all the same, sir, if the white skipper didn't want his cargoes, the nigger king and his men wouldn't supply 'em; and here's the doctor come ashore, sir," added the man, in a whisper.

For the two parties met just at the edge of a clump of trees, within whose shade the unfortunate creature who had interested the midshipman in her fate was lying with one of the seamen standing by her head, his musket grounded and his crossed arms resting upon the muzzle.

"Ah, gentlemen, you here!" said the doctor, nodding shortly. "Nice place, this. Humph!" he ejaculated, as with brows contracting he went down on one knee.—"There, don't be frightened, my lass," he continued softly, for as he drew near, the poor creature, who had been lying in the shade with her eyes half-closed, startled by the footsteps, suddenly raised her lids in a wild stare of horror and shrank away. "Poor wretch!" continued the doctor. "The sight of a man can only mean horrors for her."

"Horrors indeed, doctor," cried Murray excitedly; "but pray do something for her!"

"No," said the doctor gravely. "Nature is her doctor now."

"What do you mean?" said the young man, half annoyed by the doctor's inaction.

"That she is in the hands of a kinder doctor than I could be—one who knows what is best for her. Look!"

He shrugged his shoulders and turned away.

"Let your men cut a few of those big leaves, Mr Murray, and lay over her."

"You are too late?" said Roberts excitedly.

"Yes, my dear boy," replied the doctor. "With such hurts as the poor girl had received it was only a matter of time. Ah, I wish to goodness we had caught that schooner! It's time all this was stamped out. There, come away and bring your men. Oh, here comes Mr Anderson. Well, what are you going to do?" For the first lieutenant came up, followed by some of his men, glanced at the motionless figure and the action being taken, and turned away.

"What am I going to do?" he replied, frowning angrily. "Nothing but communicate with the captain for fresh instructions."

"But aren't we going to pursue the black chief and his people through the forest, sir, and punish them?" asked Murray, who was strangely moved by his first encounter with the horrors of a slave encampment.

"No, Mr Murray, we certainly are not," replied the lieutenant, "for the chief and his men will take plenty of care that we do not overtake them. Here, come away, my lads; this place is pestiferous enough to lay every one down with fever."

"Yes; I was just going to give you a very broad hint. Fire, eh?" said the doctor.

The lieutenant nodded.

"I must just have a word or two with the captain first," said the lieutenant, and giving the order, the men began to march to where the boats lay with their keepers, and a sentry or two had been thrown out to guard against surprise.

Murray closed up to the doctor, who was looking sharply about him at the trees which remained standing amongst the almost countless huts.

"Not many cocoanuts, Murray," he said.

"Oh," cried the young man, who felt more annoyed by the doctor's indifference than ever, "I was not thinking about palm-trees!"

"But I was," said the doctor; "they'll burn tremendously."

"Ah," cried the midshipman, "that was what I wanted to speak about. Did you mean to suggest that the place should be burned?"

"Certainly, sir," said the doctor shortly.

"The village—but with the slave barrack?"

"Of course," said the doctor shortly. "Don't you think it would be best?"

"I—Oh! It seems so horrible," began Murray.

The doctor looked at him searchingly, and laid his hand upon the youth's shoulder.

"I understand, Murray," he said quietly. "It does seem as you say repugnant; but it is necessary, my lad, for several reasons, one of the first of which it that it will be a lesson for the black king."

"But he could soon have another village built."

"Then we ought to come and burn that, and his people with him, if we could get hold of the wretches. I'm sure you must have seen enough this morning to make you feel how necessary it is for this slave traffic to be stamped out."

"Yes, of course," said Murray, "but—"

"Then take my advice, my lad," said the doctor, gripping the lad's arm; "leave these matters to your superior officers, and don't look at me as if I were a heartless brute. My profession makes me firm, my lad, not unfeeling."

"Oh, I don't think that, sir," said the lad quickly.

"But you thought something of the kind, Murray, my lad, and I like you, so it hurt me a little. You ought to have known that black and white, good and bad, are all one to a doctor. He sees only a patient, whatever they may be. But in this case I saw that this poor black woman was at almost her last gasp. Understand?"

"Yes, I see now, sir, and I beg your pardon," said the midshipman.

"We understand one another, Murray, and—Ah, here is the first luff doing just what I wanted him to do."

For that officer had gathered his men together in the shade of a clump of trees where the moving branches blew from off the river in a breeze that was untainted by the miasma of the marshy ground and the horrors of the village, for it brought with it the odour of the floating seaweed and old ocean's health-giving salts.

By this time one of the boats was despatched, and the lieutenant joined the pair.

"Ah, Mr Murray, you have lost your chance. I was going to send you to the captain for instructions, but you were busy with the doctor, so I sent Mr Roberts.—Giving him a lecture on the preservation of health, doctor?"

"Just a few hints," said that gentleman, smiling. "We were taking opposite views, but I think Murray agrees with me now."



CHAPTER NINE.

"FIRE! FIRE!"

"Now, Mr Murray," said the lieutenant, "I don't want to expose the lads to more of this unwholesome place than I can help, so you must use your brains as soon as we get word from the captain, and see that they start the fire where it will have the best effect. This abomination must disappear from the face of the earth, so where you begin to burn, start your fire well. You understand?"

"Yes, sir," said Murray, drawing a deep breath as he glanced at the doctor and found that he was watching him.

"I can't help it," he said to himself, as he stood alone in the shade watching the departing boat making for the sloop, "and I don't know that I want to help it. It does seem a horrible thing to do, but they're right, and it's one's duty. Wish I'd been handy, though, when the first luff wanted to send his message to the captain. Dick Roberts does somehow seem to get all the luck."

It was just a dash of envy; but the feeling did not last, for his common sense began to make itself felt directly after, as he withdrew his gaze from the boat to watch the group of sturdy-looking men sharing his shelter, and all excited and eager as they discussed the events of the morning and the task they evidently knew that they had to do.

"Yes, it's all envy, and envy is a poor, small, contemptible thing to encourage. I wish I had none. How stupid of me! One never knows. It would have been nice enough to sit back holding the lines and steering while the lads pulled, but only a lazy sort of a task, and here I am put in command of half-a-dozen or so of these stout lads to carry out the captain's orders and see that they do the work well."

Perhaps the fact of his thinking about the men and the work in prospect made him fix his eyes upon Tom May and think that he would like to have him in his party; perhaps not, but all the same the man turned his head just then and met his eyes, gave his waistband a hitch in front and rear, and then crossed a patch of sunshine and joined him in the shade.

"Yes, sir?" he said enquiringly.

"I did not call, Tom."

"No, sir, but I thought you looked as if you was signalling me. Beg pardon, sir; I s'pose you know we're going to burn out this here wasp nest?"

"I expect so, Tom."

"Yes, sir, that's so, and the lads are getting so hot to begin that we all feel warm enough to set fire to the place without matches."

"Well, it is hot, Tom," said Murray, smiling, while the man showed his big white teeth in a broad grin.

"I expeck we shall be 'vided into squads, sir, and there's about half-a-dozen of my messmates will fall nat'ral along o' me. Couldn't manage, I s'pose, sir, to have us under your command, could you?"

"I don't know, Tom," replied the young man. "You'll see that Mr Anderson will settle all that."

"Yes, sir; I know, sir; but I thought p'raps that if you happened to be standing along with us just as if you and us was ready for a start, it might happen as the first luff, sir, would see as it was all sootable like. They're a handy lot, so I promise you, and used to work with me."

"Oh, I know all about that, Tom, and I should be glad to have you."

"Thankye, sir; and you'll try, sir?"

"I will, Tom."

"Thankye again, sir, and I'll tell the lads."

"I make no promise, mind," said the midshipman.

"I know, sir; it's all right, sir. It'll be like this. Mr Munday will take the lead, sir, with one lot; old Dempsey another; you the next, and then Mr Roberts, sir, and the first luff'll be like tip-top of all. I shouldn't wonder a bit, sir, if me and my squad falls to you."

Murray never troubled himself to analyse whether it was accident or management, but somehow or other he found himself, soon after the return of the second cutter, in command of six of the best foremast men of the sloop's crew, headed by Tom May, who bore a lighted ship's lantern, while each man was provided with a bundle of dry, easily-igniting wood.

The men were drawn up and the first lieutenant gave his very brief instructions as to the way in which the fires were to be started, the officers in command being duly urged to exercise all care in making the conflagration thorough, while at the same time guarding against surprise.

"You see, gentlemen," said the lieutenant in conclusion, "we have not had a sight of one of the blacks, but we may be sure that they are in hiding not far away, ready to take advantage of any sign of weakness; and their spears are not very sharp, but are handled well and can be thrown a long way with good aim. In an ordinary way they would not risk our bullets, and certainly would not give our bayonets a chance, but I feel that the sight of their burning village will rouse them up, and hence an attack upon scattered men is very possible. I have no more to say but this; I want the village to be burned to ashes, and every man to get back to the boats unhurt."

The men cheered, and the next minute they had begun to open out till they were in line ready to advance, with the now briskly blowing wind, when a final order was given in the shape of a prolonged whistle from the boatswain, which was followed by the starting forward of the extended firing party with their freshly ignited torches blazing high.

"Bravo!" cried Murray excitedly, as he stood with Tom May behind ten of the bee-hive shaped palm-walled and thatched huts, which were so close together that five of his men were easily able to fire to right and left, Tom and another man musket-armed ready to cover them, and their young leader standing sword in one hand, the lantern in the other, well on the watch, and at the same time ready to supply fresh ignition to any of the rough torches which should become extinct.

"Bravo!" shouted Murray, for at the first start of his little party the torches were applied to the dry inflammable palm fabrics, and the flames sprang into fiery life at once. "Good, my lads—good! That's right," he cried. "Right down at the bottom. Couldn't be better."

For at the first application there was a hiss, then a fierce crackling sound, and the fire literally ran up from base to crown of the rounded edifice, which was soon roaring like a furnace.

"Hooray, boys!" cried Tom May. "Don't stop to save any of the best chayney or the niggers' silver spoons and forks. They belong to such a bad lot that we won't loot anything to save for prizes. And I say, that's it, going fine. Never mind getting a bit black with the smoke. It'll all wash off, and that's what these brutes of niggers can't do."

The men shouted in reply and roared with laughter at their messmates' sallies, as they hurried from hut to hut, every one blazing up as rapidly as if it had been sprinkled with resin.

Murray's idea was that they would be able to keep on steadily in a well-ordered line, firing hut after hut as they went; but in a very few minutes, in spite of discipline, he soon found that it would be impossible to follow out his instructions. Once the fire was started it roared up and leaped to the next hut or to those beyond it. The heat became insufferable, the smoke blinding, so that the men were confused and kept on starting back, coughing, sneezing, and now and then one was glad to stand stamping and rubbing his hair, singed and scorched by the darting tongues of flame.

"Hold together, my lads; hold together!" shouted Murray. "We must look to ourselves; the others will do the same; but keep on shouting so as to be in touch."

"Ay, ay, sir!" cried Tom May. "You hear, my lads?"

Half-heard shouts came back out of the smoke, but it soon became impossible to communicate with the men with anything like regularity, for the roar and crackle of the flames grew deafening, many of the bamboo posts exploding like muskets, and before long Murray had hard work to satisfy himself that the men were not using their pieces.

"That you, Tom May?" he cried, at last, as he became aware of a dimly seen figure emerging from the smoke.

"Not quite sure, sir," was the reply, "but I think it's me."

"Where are the lads?"

"Oh, they're here, sir, somewheres, only you can't see 'em. I've just been counting of 'em over, sir, by touching 'em one at a time and telling 'em to shout who it was."

"They're all safe, then?"

"Hope so, sir; but I wouldn't try to go no furder, sir. Now the fire's started it's a-going on like furnaces, sir, and it's every man for himself. We can't do no more. Can't you feel how the wind's got up?"

"Yes, Tom; it comes rushing from seaward and whistles quite cold against the back of my head, while in front the glow is quite painful."

"Yes, sir, and it's growing worse and worse."

"It's my belief, Tom, that this wind will fan the flames till the forest will take fire before long as well as the huts."

"'Fore long, sir?" said the man, in the intervals of coughing and choking. "Why, it's been on fire ever so long, and roaring away right up to the tops of the trees. We shall be hearing some of them come toppling down before long."

"I wish this smoke would blow over, for I can't make out where we are."

"No, sir, nor nobody else neither. Oh! Here's one of us, if it ain't a nigger. Here, who are you?"

"I'm Jenks, messmet, I think," came hoarsely. "But I say, where's the orficer?"

"I'm here, Jenks," cried Murray. "What is it?"

"On'y this, sir; I just wanted to know whether fresh clothes'll be sarved out after this here job, for I'm sure as I shan't be decent."

"What, have you got your shirt burned, my lad?"

"'Tarn't on'y my shirt, sir; I'm 'most all tinder, and I had to back out or I should soon ha' been cooked."

"Keep back, my lads!" cried Murray now, and by degrees he managed to get his little party all together in what seemed to be an open space where all was smoke and smouldering ashes, where the men stood coughing, while the heat was terrific.

"Stand still, my lad; stand still!" cried Murray.

"Can't, sir," growled the dim figure addressed; "it smarts so."

"Tut, tut, tut, tut!" ejaculated Murray. "Can you make out which way the sea lies, May?"

"No, sir; I've been a-trying to."

"We can't stay here, my lads, and we must make for the shore. It would be madness to go on now."

"That's a true word, sir," growled Tom May.

"I want to know where our chaps are, but I can't hear nothing but the fire going it. Seems to me as if we've set all Africa afire, and it's going on a mile a minute."

"Who knows where the slave barrack lies?" cried Murray. "It seems horrible, but we must make sure that the fire has caught there."

"Seems to me, sir," said one of the men, "that we're a-standing in the middle of it here."

"I know it ketched fire, sir," said May.

"How can you be sure, man?" said Murray angrily, for he was smarting with pain, and forced to close the lids over his stinging eyes.

"Set it afire myself, sir, and the flames run up the bamboo postesses which set 'em snapping and crackling and going on popping and banging just as if the marine jollies was practising with blank cartridge on an exercise day."

"But are you sure, Tom?"

"Sure as sure, sir. Mr Anderson never thought it would go like this here. He'd got a kind of idee that we should be able to light all the niggers' huts one at a time, 'stead of which as soon as we started a few on 'em they set all the rest off, and the job was done."

"Done, my man!" said Murray. "Why, hark at the roar right away yonder."

"Oh, yes, sir," grumbled the man; "I'm a-harking fast enough. There she goes, and as somebody said, I dunno now whether it was me or one of my messmates, we seem to ha' set all Africa going, and it won't stop till there's no more wood to burn."

"Well," said Murray decisively, "one thing's very plain: we can do no more, and we must make for the river."

"But what about orders, sir?" said the man. "We was to do it thorough, and see as the whole blessed place was a-blazing."

"Well, it is, my man," said Murray. "The first lieutenant didn't mean me to get my men burned as well."

"Skeercely, sir," said one of the men. "I don't know how my messmates are, but I feel as if I was a bacon pig after killing time, and the singeing's done."

"Forward, then, and keep close, my lads. I think it looks lighter ahead there. Keep together."

The midshipman started forward through the blinding smoke, panting and gasping, while at every step the hot ashes emitted sparks and the heat became more intense. But at the end of a score of painful paces a strong hand gripped him by the arm and a hoarse voice growled—

"Beg pardon, sir, but this here won't do."

"Right, May," cried the midshipman. "I was just going to say so. Halt, my lads. Here, right wheel!"

Tramp, tramp, tramp, with the smoke and sparks rising; and the big sailor growled again in protest.

"Wuss and wuss, sir."

"Yes.—Let's try this way, my lads."

"This here's wusser still, your honour," growled another of the men.

"Yes: it's horrible," cried Murray. "Halt! Now, all together, shout with me, 'Seafowl ahoy!'"

The men shouted, and then again, three times, but elicited no reply, and the roar and crackle of the blazing forest seemed to increase.

"Here, which of you can make out where the river lies?" cried Murray.

"Not me, sir," grumbled one of the men out of the stifling smoke, "or I'd soon be into it!"

"Here, once more. I don't think we have tried this way," cried Murray, almost in despair. "Look, Tom May, this does look a little lighter, doesn't it?—No," continued the lad huskily, and without waiting for the able-seaman's reply. "Here, try this way, for the flames seem to be mounting higher there. Keep up your pluck, my lads, and follow me. Are you all there?"

"Ay, ay, sir!" cried the sailor. "We're all here, arn't we, messmates?"

"Ay, ay!" came in a deep growl.

"Then follow me close," said Murray. "Everything depends upon your keeping together."

"Oh, we'll keep together, sir," said May. "Won't we, messmates?"

"Ay, ay!" said another of the men. "But I don't quite like this here job."

"No, no, my lads; it's horrible for you," said Murray, as he tramped on, fighting with his despair.

"'Tarn't wuss for us, sir, than it is for you," said Tom.

"Poor fellows!" thought the midshipman, and he ground his teeth with rage and pain. "But I ought to have led them better." Then aloud, as an idea struck him, "You, Tom, fire a shot upward, and then as he reloads, the next man fire, as I give orders. The others listen for the reply. Some of our fellows must hear the shots.—Halt!"

The men stood together in the deep gloom, for the smoke rose from around them in every direction.

Then, heard distinctly above the roar and crackle of the flames, came the clear sharp-sounding report of the seaman's musket.

"Number two make ready!" cried Murray, and then, "What's that?" For something passed them with a faint hiss, and as it seemed to the lad, stuck in the smoking earth.

"Spear, I think, sir," growled Tom May.

"Impossible! Piece of bamboo or palm fallen from above. Now then, Number Two—Fire!"

There was the sharp report, followed directly by another whishing sound and a thud in the earth.

"Spear it is," growled May.

"Ay, ay," said another of the party; "and I've got it too!"

"Hush! Silence there!" whispered Murray excitedly. "Not wounded, my lad?"

"Nay, sir," came in a subdued voice, "but it would have stuck in my shirt, on'y it was gone to tinder and wouldn't hold nowt. Here it is, though, sir—nigger's spear, and they can see us, though we can't see them."

"From which way did it come?"

"Way we're going, sir," said the man, in a muffled voice; and as he spoke once more came the whish of a well-thrown spear, making another of the men wince, and proving plainly from which direction the missile had come.

The imminence of the fresh danger made the little party forget their sufferings, and with the quickness of highly disciplined men, they were apt to obey the orders whispered sharply by the midshipman. They fell into line, made ready, and at the command given by their officer, six muskets flashed out, sending their bullets whizzing breast high through the smoke, out of which, as if crossing them, came as many spears, this time the deadly missiles being followed by a burst of savage yells.

"Load!" whispered Murray, as the yells were followed by a silence so strange and nerve-startling that the young officer felt his heart thump heavily against his breast.

Then, as the whistling of the air arose caused by the driving down of the cartridges, he bethought himself and uttered a hurried question—

"Any one hurt?"

"Yes, sir," came in Tom May's familiar voice; and the midshipman, new to the heart-stirring horrors of a real engagement, waited anxiously for the man's next words.

"None of us, sir," came after what seemed to be a long pause, "but some o' them got it bad and made 'em yell and run i'stead o' keeping on the slink."

"Hah!" ejaculated Murray, as he pressed his hand to his painfully throbbing breast. "I thought you meant—"

"Our lads, sir? Oh no; we're all right: the enemy, sir. That volley started 'em. I heard 'em rush off quite plain. Like us to give 'em another?"

Murray was silent as he stood straining his eyes and ears, to pierce the smoke and hear the whish of another spear.

"No," he said, at last, in a low tone full of relief, "waste of powder;" and then he started, and gave vent to a cry of joy. "Hear that, my lads?" For from some distance away to their left came a shout which meant in this peril-fraught position, help and the companionship of friends.

"Ay, ay, sir," cried Tom May.

"Shout, lads—shout!" cried Murray excitedly; and as a hearty Ahoy! rang out the lad winced, for he felt that he had given an order which would show the enemy once more where they were, and he once more strained his senses in the full expectation of the coming of another spear.

But he gave vent to his pent-up breath with a feeling of intense relief, as instead of the whish of a spear came another hearty "ahoy!" from certainly nearer at hand, followed by the tramp of feet and the crackling sound of charred wood.

"Where are you?" came directly after, in a well-known voice.

"Here, sir!" cried Murray. "Forward, my lads!" And the men followed him at the double.

"This way," cried the same voice. "That you, Mr Murray?"

"Yes, sir," replied the midshipman, halting his men in the smoke, feeling more than seeing that they were close up to their friends.

"All your men there?"

"Yes, sir. None hurt," replied the lad.

"That's good! Spears have begun to fly, for the enemy are creeping up through the smoke. You started the huts burning, of course?" he continued, after a pause.

"Yes, sir; burning everywhere."

"Exactly, Mr Murray. I think the work has been thoroughly done, and I am glad you found us, for I am getting to be at fault as to how to reach the shore. There, I can hear nothing of our friends, so you had better lead on. I suppose they have made for the boats."

"Lead on, sir?" faltered Murray.

"Yes, sir," cried the chief officer petulantly; "and don't repeat my words in that absurd way. Haven't we had enough of this stifling smoke?"

"But I thought you had come to help us, sir."

"To help you, sir? Why, weren't you firing to let us know the way out of this horrible furnace?"

"No, sir—at the blacks who were hemming us in and throwing their spears. Don't you know the way down to the boats?"

"No, my lad," cried the lieutenant angrily. "Tut, tut, tut! What a mess, to be sure!—Silence there! Listen.—Well," he continued, after some minutes, during which nothing but an occasional crack from some half-burned bamboo reached their ears. "There, we must give a shout or two. I don't know, though, Mr Murray; you said that the blacks had begun throwing their spears?"

"Yes, sir; so did you."

"Yes, Mr Murray, and if we begin shouting all together we shall be bringing them again."

"That's what I thought, sir."

"Well, what of that, sir?" cried the officer petulantly; and for the moment it seemed to the lad that his superior had caught the captain's irritating manner. "So would any sensible person. Here, I have it! Pass the word for Mr Dempsey. The boatswain's whistle will bring the stragglers all together."

"But Mr Dempsey is not with us," suggested Murray.

"Then where in the name of common sense is he, sir? He had his instructions—strict instructions to keep well in touch with the rest; and now in the emergency, just when he is wanted he is not to be found. Listen, all of you. Can you hear anything?"

There was plenty to hear, for the half-burned posts of the savage town or the fragments of the forest still kept up a petillation, and flames flashed up here and there and emitted more smoke; but no one ventured to speak.

"Bah!" ejaculated the chief officer angrily. "We shall never get out of the smoky maze like this. Now then, all together, my lads, when I give the word; a good hearty shout; but every man make ready, and at the first spear thrown fire in the direction—fire low, mind—Who's that— Mr Murray?"

"Yes, sir," whispered the lad, who had suddenly laid a hand upon his officer's arm. "I fancy I can hear the rustling of steps away to the left, as if the enemy is creeping nearer."

"Fancy, of course, sir!" snapped out the officer. "Bare-footed savages are not likely to be stealing amongst these red-hot ashes."

Bang! and directly after bang! bang! The reports of three muskets rang out in a dull half-smothered way, followed by a piercing yell and a distinctly heard rush of feet. Then once more silence, which was broken by a low hail close at hand.

"Who's that?" cried the lieutenant.

"May it is, sir," responded that individual. "Here's one on 'em, sir, as has got it."

"Who is it?" whispered the lieutenant, accompanying his question with an ejaculation full of vexation.

"Oh, I dunno, your honour—Sambo or Nigger Dick, or Pompey, sir. But he'll never answer to his name again. Here he is, spear and all."

"One of the enemy whom you shot down?" said the lieutenant, in a tone full of relief.

"Not me shot him, sir, but one of my messmates."

"Speak softly, my man," said the lieutenant, "and be all ready to fire again. I'm afraid they've been creeping up all round."

"Not all round, sir," said the sailor, "but a whole lot on this side, and them three shots drifted them. There was a regular rush as soon as the lads opened fire."

"Good," said the lieutenant. "But they may be coming on again. Stand fast, my lads, ready to fire at the slightest sound. I don't know how they can stand it, Mr Murray," he added, "for I feel as if my boot soles are being burned through.—Yes: what were you going to say—that yours are as bad?"

"No, sir," replied the lad excitedly; "I was going to suggest that the men who fired should stand fast."

"Why, of course, my lad; but why?"

"Because, sir, they can tell the direction in which they fired, and know the way in which the enemy retreated."

"Of course, sir; but what good will that do?"

"It ought to be the way in which their friends are gathered, and the opposite direction to that in which we ought to retreat."

"Good, my lad," said the lieutenant, clapping the lad on the shoulder. "You'll make a smart officer some day. I should not have thought of that. It may prove to be the way towards the shore. We'll draw off at once. Oh!" he added. "If a good sharp breeze would spring up, to drive off this smoke!"

"But wouldn't it set the remains of the fire blazing up again, sir?"

"Here, Murray," whispered the officer pettishly, "you'd better take command of the expedition. You are sharper than I am."

"I beg your pardon, sir."

"Not at all. I'm not so weak as to resent hearing a good suggestion. You are quite right, my lad. I only wonder that your brain keeps so clear in the horrible confusion this smoke brings on. Here, let's put your suggestion into use. Where's Tom May?"

"Here, sir."

"Can you tell which way the enemy retreated?"

"For sartin. This here nigger's lying on his back with his head pynted the way his party came from—shot right through his chesty; and there's a spear, sir, sticking slahntindickler in the ashes as shows the way which it was throwed from. Both being from the same bearings seems to say, sir, as that's the way the niggers would run."

"Humph!" ejaculated the lieutenant thoughtfully. "Not quite sure, my man?"

"No, sir, but I heerd them seem to run same way, so I thought it was a bit likely, sir."

"Likely enough for us to follow, my lad," said the officer; "so lead off, and keep on in the direction you think that the shore will lie."

"Can't do that, sir," said the man bluntly. "Only think, sir, as it will be farthest from where the enemy came."

"Lead on," said the officer shortly. "It's the best thing for us now. Forward, my lads. You, Mr Murray, keep alongside of me. We'll bring up the rear."

The retreat began, with the midshipman nowise happy in his own mind, for he could not help feeling that after all they might be marching into fresh difficulties instead of towards safety; but before long, as they tramped on over the heated ashes, suffering badly, for they began to inhale more and more the heated dust thrown up by their men's feet, they had something else to think of, for Murray suddenly caught hold of his officer's arm to check him.

"Don't, do that, my lad," came in response. "It's as dark as can be, and if we are left behind we shall be worse off than ever."

"Yes, sir," whispered the midshipman; "but listen."

"I am listening, Mr Murray, and I can hear the crackling of the men's shoes as they trample up the burning embers. That's what you hear."

"Yes, sir, but something more."

"Eh? What?"

"Listen again, sir. Just stop for a moment."

The officer stopped short on the instant, and then caught the lad by the arm.

"Forward," he whispered, "and keep step with me. Close up to the men, and we'll halt, fall into line, give the brutes time to get within throwing distance for their spears, and then give them a volley. You are quite right, Mr Murray. Your ears are sharper than mine. We are followed, my lad, and if we hear their footsteps cease we must dash forward to put our movement into effect, for they will have halted to throw their weapons.—Yes, they are creeping after us quite fast now."

"Yes, sir; I can hear them quite plainly."

"Never mind so long as we don't feel them quite plainly, Murray, my lad," continued the officer, with a faint laugh. "I don't know how you feel, my boy, but I am suffering from a peculiar tickling sensation about the upper part of my spine. It is a sort of anticipation of the coming of a spear; and the worst of it is that we can't run, though I'll be bound to say you feel as if you would like to. Now, frankly, don't you?"

"Yes, sir," said the lad; "I'd give anything to run now, as fast as I could."

"That's honest, Mr Murray," said the lieutenant, in a low, eager whisper, and he squeezed his companion's arm. "But then, you see, we can't. That's the worst of being an officer, Murray, with all his responsibilities. If we were to run we should throw our men into confusion by causing a panic. If the officer shows the white feather his men will whisk it out directly, and, what is worse, they will never believe in him again, and that would not do, would it?"

"No, sir," said Murray quietly; "but I've got that tickling sensation in my back badly now."

"Of course you have, Murray, but not so bad as I have, I'm sure."

"Oh, I don't know, sir," said the lad, rather huskily.

"Better not talk, Mr Murray," said the first lieutenant; "the ashes are getting into your throat."

"Think it's that, sir?"

"Some of it, my boy. Well, no: it does not do for officers to be too sure. We'll say it is, though. Nasty sensation, however, that of feeling your enemies are waiting to hurl a spear through the air with such an aim that it will stick right into your back."

"Yes, sir; it's a horrible sensation."

"But we must put up with it, Murray," continued the lieutenant, "and be thankful that chance comes to our help."

"Chance, sir?"

"Yes: the savages may miss us, for we are on the move, and besides, it is very smoky and hard for them to take aim. These blacks have very sharp eyes, but I doubt whether they get more than a shadowy glimpse of us, even at the nearest. You see, we have not had a man hit as far as we know. But speaking seriously, Murray, my lad, I do think that we officers have the worst of it, and the men the best. We have to cover them and lead them, and a good officer would never think of setting his men to do anything we would not do ourselves. There, Mr Murray, I have finished my lecture upon an officer's duty, and I have only to add that I think you have behaved very well."

"Thankye, sir," said Murray drily; "but, begging your pardon, sir, what about you?"

"About me? Oh, I'm old and seasoned, my dear boy. And besides, I don't think that if we had been hit, a spear would kill."

"But it would make a very ugly wound, sir."

"Horrible, my boy, so let's hope none of our brave fellows will be giving the doctor a job. Now then, quick; double up to the lads, and we'll halt and fire, for the enemy are getting too close to be pleasant, and it's time that they had a check."



CHAPTER TEN.

HARD TIMES.

It was, quite, for the rustling behind seemed to be terribly near, and it was with a feeling of intense relief that the lad felt his arm pressed, and fell into step with his officer, who directly after cried "Haiti" in a low, stern voice, and formed his men in line, before giving the orders: "Make ready! Fire!"

Quite time, for spears and bullets crossed, the former in a curve, the latter direct, and drawing from the enemy yells of mingled defiance, rage and pain.

"That's give it 'em, sir," whispered Tom May, who was close to Murray, and he made his rifle hiss as he rammed down a fresh cartridge.

"Any one hurt?" asked the lieutenant, in a low, eager tone.

"I got a spear a-sticking in me, sir," said one of the men, in the same subdued tone of voice, "but I can't say as it hurts."

"Let me see," said Murray excitedly, and he stepped to where the man was standing tugging at himself instead of following his comrades' example and reloading.

"Don't think you can see, sir! it's so smoky. Would you mind ketching hold here and giving a good pull?"

As the man spoke, the midshipman did as he was requested, so far as to take hold of the shaft of a spear. But there he stopped short, his imagination suggesting consequences to which he gave voice in a strangely unnatural tone.

"I daren't draw it out," he said. "It may be wrong to do so."

"But I can't march with a thing like that all wibble wobble at every step, sir."

"Then you must be helped, my lad," said Murray hastily. "If I draw it out the wound may burst out bleeding."

"Think so, sir?"

"Yes. You must be helped back till the doctor has seen to you."

"Here, what is it?" said a familiar voice out of the gloom.

"Titely has a spear through his shoulder, sir."

"Tut, tut, tut! Here, let me look."

"Oh, never mind me, sir," said the injured man; "it don't hurt much, on'y feels like a scratch; but it's orfly in the way."

"Who's this?" asked the lieutenant.

"Murray, sir."

"Let me see. Yes: right through, evidently."

"He wants it drawn out, sir," said the midshipman, and he was holding up the spear-shaft where he stood facing the injured man; "but it would be dangerous to meddle with it, wouldn't it, sir?"

"Yes, certainly," said the lieutenant. "He must be helped back. What's that?"

"More spears, sir," growled Tom May, as there was the whizz and thud of the missiles once more.

"Present! Fire!" said the lieutenant sharply; and a fresh volley was fired, with the result of a rush of feet being plainly heard from the enemy, now in full retreat.

"Keep silence, my lads," said the lieutenant, who had been waiting till the thudding of the ramrods came to an end and denoted that the little party was once more ready to deliver fire.

Silence ensued, save where Murray stood half supporting the wounded man.

"Here, give it a good pull, Mr Murray, sir," whispered the man. "I'll hold a couple o' plugs ready for you to stop the bleeding."

"No, no, my man; you must be patient," whispered Murray sympathetically.

"But I can't be patient, sir. You don't know what it means."

"Does it pain you so much?"

"No, sir; not so werry much. I can bear it well enough, but it makes me feel as if I'd got a skewer through me."

"Silence there," said the lieutenant.

"It's all very fine," muttered the man; and then, leaning towards Murray, "Say, sir, these here niggers on the coast are cannibals, aren't they?"

"Yes, some of them, I believe," whispered back the midshipman.

"Don't leave me behind, then," said the man softly, and he uttered a low chuckling laugh. "I don't want 'em to come upon me and find a fellow skewered and trussed ready for cooking."

"Can't you keep that man quiet, Mr Murray?" said the lieutenant angrily, and he came up to where the pair stood together. "It's like telling the enemy where to throw again, for they are wonderfully quick of hearing."

"I am trying, sir," whispered the midshipman, "but I wish you would place your hand here."

"Place your hand there, Mr Murray!" said the officer, in a voice full of vexation. "I have no time to feel the poor fellow's wound."

"But it isn't quite that, sir," said the lad. "I can't help thinking—"

"Think, then, sir, but don't bother me."

"I can't help it, sir," whispered the lad excitedly.

"What do you mean, Mr Murray?" said the officer, alarmed by the lad's excitement. "Don't say you are wounded too?"

"No, sir, and I don't think that Titely has got anything worse than a scratch."

"Eh?"

"Feel here, sir. The spear has gone right through the bandolier and his shirt from the front and gone out through the shirt and bandolier at the back, running all up a bit."

"Well, but what about the poor fellow's flesh and bone?" said the officer excitedly.

"I think it's only gone through the skin, sir."

"Yes, that's right," said the man. "I telled Mr Murray, sir, as I didn't think I should bleed much if he pulled the skewer out."

"We must wait for daylight, my lad—till the smoke lifts. Ah, what are you doing?"

"On'y wiggling the spear a little, sir," replied the man gruffly. "Just give a tug at it. Does hurt a bit. I seem to have teared some'at. There, I knowed it! You try, Mr Murray, sir; you can lift it like now, and—yes, that's it. I'm a-shoving it back'ards and for'ards, and it moves the cross-belt and my shirt, and nothing else."

"But, my good fellow—" began the officer.

"It's all right, sir. I've shoved my hand right under my shirt and over my shoulder. It's just bleeding a little, but—well, it's about the humbuggin'est humbug of a wound I ever knowed a chap to have. Here, Mr Murray sir, you ketch hold of my cross-belt fore and aft, and if his honour wouldn't mind giving the spear a haul through the belt I shall be as right as can be."

The two officers obeyed the man's request and stood holding spear and belt, but hesitated to proceed farther.

"That hurt, my lad?" said the lieutenant.

"Hurt, sir? Not a bit. On'y feels preciously in the way."

"Got hold tightly, Mr Murray?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then, now then."

It took more than one good tug, but after the first tentative trial, which seemed to cause the man no suffering, the first lieutenant pulled hard, and at last drew the spear right through the two pierced portions of the tough buff leather.

"That's your sort, gentlemen," said the man. "Here, who's got my musket?"

"Steady, my lad," said the lieutenant. "Now, then, do you feel faint?"

"Orfle, sir, inside," said the man, "but I want a drink o' water worst."

"But are you in pain?" asked Murray.

"Smarts a bit, but it don't hardly bleed at all. I'm all right, sir, only tickles enough to make a chap a bit savage. Here, don't you worry about me, sir. I'm as fit as a fiddle, gentlemen, and I on'y want now to play the niggers such a toon as'll make them jump again."

"Hah!" ejaculated the lieutenant. "Only a bit of a false alarm, Mr Murray."

"Thankye, sir. Yes, that's right. Does me good to grip my musket again."

"Then try and use it, Titely," said the midshipman, "for here they come again.—Yes, May; we hear them."

The lieutenant's command was given directly after, and again a volley rang out, this time to check the enemy's advance and drive them back so thoroughly that the silence was once more intense; and as the party stood with strained ears, listening, Murray uttered an exclamation.

"What is it, Mr Murray?"

"Firing, sir. I heard shots."

"Are you sure?"

"I heerd it too, sir," said the injured man.

"Attention there!" said the lieutenant sharply.

"One, two, and three from the left make ready. Present—Fire!"

The three shots rang out like one, and directly after they were replied to, the reports sounding faintly enough but perfectly distinguishable through the distance.

The lieutenant waited while twenty could be counted, and then ordered the men to fire again. This drew forth a reply, and so evidently from the same direction that the order was given for the party to march; but directly after the lieutenant called Halt, for from behind them and quite plainly from the direction they were leaving, came the deep-toned thud of a heavy gun.



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

"THE SMOKE'S LIFTING."

"Well done, Seafowl!" said the lieutenant, and the men gave a cheer which drew forth a "Silence!" from the officer.

"You're holloaing before you're out of the wood, my lads," he said. "Ah, there they go again—nearer too. Those must be Mr Munday's or Mr Dempsey's men. Halt, and stand fast, my lads. Let's give them a chance to join, and then we can retire together. No doubt, Mr Murray, about the direction we ought to take."

"No, sir," replied the midshipman, "and we are going to be quite out of our misery soon."

"What do you mean, my lad?"

"The smoke's lifting, sir."

"To be sure, my lad, it is. A cool breeze too—no—yes, that's from the same direction as the Seafowl's recall shot. If it had been from the forest we might have been stifled, after all."

The signals given from time to time resulted in those who had fired coming before long within hail, and the men who now joined proved to be a conjunction of the second lieutenant's and boatswain's, who had met after a long estrangement in the smoke, and without the loss of a man. Then, as the smoke was borne back by the now increasing sea breeze, the general retreat became less painful. They could breathe more freely, and see their way through the burned forest in the direction of the anchored sloop.

It was a terribly blackened and parched-up party, though, that struggled on over the still smoking and painfully heated earth. For they had no option, no choice of path. The forest that lay to left and right was too dense to be attempted. There were doubtless paths known to the natives, but they were invisible to the retreating force, which had to keep on its weary way over the widely stretching fire-devastated tract that but a few hours before had been for the most part mangrove thicket interspersed with palms. But the men trudged on with all the steady, stubborn determination of the British sailor, cheered now as they were by the sight of the great river right ahead, with the sloop of war well in view; and in place of bemoaning their fate or heeding their sufferings the scorched and hair-singed men were full of jocular remarks about each other's state.

One of the first things observable was the fact that to a man all save the officers were bare-headed, the men's straw hats having suffered early in the struggle against the flames, while the caps of the officers were in such dismal plight that it was questionable as to whether it was worth while to retain them.

Titely, the seaman who had been speared, was the butt of all his messmates, and the requests to him to show his wound were constant and all taken in good part; in fact, he seemed to revel in the joke.

But there was another side which he showed to his young officer as, cheering at intervals, the party began to near the river edge and get glimpses of the boats waiting with a well-armed party to take them off to the sloop.

"It's all werry fine, Mr Murray, sir," said Titely, "and I warn't going to flinch and holloa when one's poor mates wanted everything one could do to keep 'em in good heart; but I did get a good nick made in my shoulder, and the way it's been giving it to me all through this here red-hot march has been enough to make me sing out chi-ike like a trod-upon dog."

"My poor fellow!" whispered Murray sympathetically. "Then you are in great pain?"

"Well, yes, sir; pooty tidy."

"But—"

"Oh, don't you take no notice, sir. I ought to be carried."

"Yes, of course! Yes, I'll tell Mr Anderson."

"That you don't, sir! If you do I shall break down at once. Can't you see it's the boys' chaff as has kep' me going? Why, look at 'em, sir. Who's going to make a party of bearers? It's as much as the boys can do to carry theirselves. No, no; I shall last out now till I can get a drink of cool, fresh water. All I've had lately has been as hot as rum."

"Hurray!" rang out again and again, and the poor fellows joined in the cheers, for they could see nothing but the welcome waiting for them, and feel nothing but the fact that they had gone to clear out the horrible hornets' nest with fire, and that the task had been splendidly done.



CHAPTER TWELVE.

AFTER THE LESSON.

As the suffering party gathered together upon the river shore preparatory to embarking in the boats, Murray's first care was to see that A.B. Titely was placed where he could lie down and rest, and while looking after the poor fellow, and seeing that he was one of the first to be helped into the stern sheets of the first cutter, Roberts came up.

"Oh, I say!" he cried. "Who's that wounded?"

"Hallo! Who are you?" said his fellow middy sharply. "Don't disturb the poor fellow."

"Why, eh? Yes—no," cried Roberts, with a mock display of interest, "I was wondering where—well—it can't be! Why, Frank, you do look a pretty sweep! Hardly knew you. I say: is it you?"

"Is it I, indeed!" growled Murray. "You're a pretty fellow to try that on! Go and look at your face in the water if you can find a still pool. I might grin at you."

"Am I browned, then—scorched?"

"Are you scorched brown! No, you are scorched black! Where are your eyebrows? I say, Dick, those two little patches of hair in front of your ears that you believed were whiskers beginning to shoot—they're quite gone. No, not quite; there's a tiny bit left in front of your right ear."

The conscious lad clapped his hands up to the sides of his face.

"I say, not so bad as that, is it, Frank? No games; tell us the truth."

"Games? No, I'm too sore to be making game," cried Murray, and he gazed carefully at both sides of his messmate's cheeks. "You're scorched horribly, and the whisker shoots are all gone—No, there's about half of one left; and you'll have to shave that off, Dick, so as to balance the other bare place. No, no; it's all right; that's not hair, only a smudge of sooty cinder off your burnt cap. I say, you do look a beauty, Dick."

"Oh, I say!" groaned the youth, patting his tingling cheeks tenderly.—"Here, what are you grinning at, sir?" he cried, turning upon the wounded sailor angrily.

"Beg pardon, sir. Was I grinning?" said the sailor apologetically.

"Yes; and he can't help it, Dick. Don't be hard upon the poor fellow; he has had a spear through the top of his shoulder. But you do look an object! Enough to make a cat laugh, as they say."

"Well, I don't see that there's anything to laugh at."

"No, old fellow, because you can't see your face; but I say, you can see mine."

"Humph!" grunted Roberts sulkily, and his fingers stole up to pat the scorched portions of his face.

"Case of pot and kettle, eh, Dick?" said Murray, laughing, then pulling his face straight again as he winced with pain. "Oh, I say, don't make me grin at you again. It's just as if my skin was ready to crack all over. There, poor old chap, I'm sorry for you if you feel as bad as I do. But you began it."

"Beg pardon, then," grumbled Roberts.

"Granted. But I say, why doesn't Anderson hurry us all on board?"

"I don't know. Yes, I do," cried the midshipman excitedly. "The beggars—they must have quite escaped the fire! They're gathering together over yonder, hundreds of them, with spears. I believe they're going to make a rush. Fancy, after destroying the hornets' nest!"

"Then we shall have to kill the hornets," said Murray; and the two lads were among the first to answer to the boatswain's whistle, which now chirruped out loudly.

"Here we are, Mr Murray, sir," said Tom May, as the midshipman hurried up to his little party. "This is us, sir—your lot."

"Well, I know that," said the lad petulantly, as he winced with pain.

"Beg pardon, sir," said the man. "Thought you might take us for the niggers, seeing what colour we are and how our clothes are tumbling off."

"Yes, we're black enough, Tom, but I hope you don't feel as I do," said his leader.

"Much of a muchness, sir," said the man, with a grin half of mischievous mirth, half of pain. "The first luff said something about hornets, sir. I don't know much about them insecks, but we chaps feel as if we'd been among their first cousins the wopses; eh, lads?"

"Ay, ay!" growled another of the men. "But aren't we soon going to have a chance to use our stings?"

At that moment the preliminary order rang out—an order which sent a thrill through the suffering band, making them forget everything in the opportunity about to be given them for retaliation upon the advancing body of warlike blacks stealing cautiously forward from the shelter of a patch of mangroves away to the left, which had from its nearness to the margin escaped the flames.

"The savage brutes!" muttered Murray, as he drew his sword, and winced with pain.

"Hold your fire, Mr Murray," shouted the lieutenant. "Wait, my lads, till you see the whites of their eyes, and then let them have it sharply when you hear the word."

But the little volley from the midshipman's party of reserve was held longer, for the lieutenant's words had little more than passed his lips when there was a flash, followed by what resembled a ball of grey smoke from the Seafowl where she lay at anchor. Then almost instantaneously came the roar of one of the sloop's bow guns and her charge of canister shot tore through the sheltering bush-like trees, while a cheer burst from the shore party, discipline being forgotten in the excitement caused by what came as a surprise.

The heartily given cheer was followed by another puff of grey smoke, and the crack of shot through the sheltered trees, the effect being that the advancing party of the enemy was turned into a running crowd of fugitives scattering and running for their lives, leaving the boats' crews to embark quite unmolested, this last example of the white man's power proving a quite sufficient lesson for the native king.



CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

A VISIT FROM THE HORNETS.

"Upon my word, Mr Anderson," said the captain, as he had the men drawn up before him as soon as they reached the Seafowl—"Upon my word, sir, I am delighted. I entrust you with a couple of boats' crews to carry out a necessary duty, and you bring me back a scorched-up detachment only fit to go into hospital."

"I beg pardon, sir," said the chief officer shortly; "only one man wounded, and his injury is very slight."

"Don't talk to me like that, sir!" cried the captain. "Look at them, sir—look at them!"

"I have been looking at them, sir, for long enough—poor fellows—and I am truly sorry to have brought them back in such a state."

"I should think you are, sir! Upon my word of honour I should think you are! But what have you been about?"

"Burning out the hornets' nest, sir," said the lieutenant bluffly.

"Well, I suppose you have done that thoroughly, Mr Anderson: but at what a cost! Is there to be no end to these misfortunes? First you allow yourself to be deluded by a slave-trading American and bring the Seafowl up here to be run aground, with the chance of becoming a total wreck—"

"I beg your pardon, sir!"

"Well, not total—perhaps not total, Mr Anderson; but she is in a terribly bad position."

"One from which you will easily set her at liberty."

"Fortunately for you, Mr Anderson; and that is to my credit, I think, not yours."

"Granted, sir," said the lieutenant; "but do you give me the credit of being tricked by the slave skipper?"

"Well, I suppose I must take my share, Mr Anderson; but don't you think it would be more creditable to dismiss these poor fellows at once and have them overhauled by the surgeon?"

"I do, sir, certainly," said the chief officer.

"Have them below, then, at once, and let Mr Reston do his best with them. Only one seriously wounded, you said?"

"No, sir; slightly."

"Good. But to think of the Seafowl being turned at one stroke into a hospital hulk.—You thoroughly destroyed the town and the slave barracks?"

"We completely burned out the wretched collection of palm and bamboo huts, sir, and the horrible barn and shambles where they keep their wretched captives. It was a place of horror, sir," said the lieutenant angrily. "If you had seen what we saw, sir, you would have felt that no punishment could be too great for the wretches."

"Humph! I suppose not, Mr Anderson. And that iniquitous Yankee scoundrel who has slipped through my fingers. But look here, Mr Anderson, I am going to find that wretch; and when I do—yes, when I do! He has had the laugh of me, and I was too easily deceived, Anderson; but I'm going to follow that fellow across the Atlantic to where he disposes of his unfortunate cargo. It's thousands of miles, perhaps, and a long pursuit maybe, but we're going to do it, sir, no matter what it costs, and I hope and believe that my officers and my poor brave fellows who have suffered what they have to-day will back me up and strain every nerve to bring the Seafowl alongside his schooner, going or coming. Hang him, Mr Anderson!—Ah, I did not mean to say that, sir; but hang him by all means if you can catch him. We'll give him the mercy he has dealt out to these poor unhappy creatures, and for the way in which my brave fellows have been scorched and singed I'm going to burn that schooner—or—well, no, I can't do that, for it must be a smart vessel, and my sturdy lads must have something in the way of prize money. Look at them, Mr Anderson; and look at those two! You don't mean to tell me that those are officers?"

He pointed at the two midshipmen so suddenly that they both started and turned to look at each other, then stared at the captain again, and once more gazed at each other, puzzled, confused, angry and annoyed at their aspect, looking so comical that the captain's manner completely altered. He had been gazing at his young officers with an air of commiseration, and his tones spoke of the anger and annoyance he felt to see the state they were in; and then all was changed; he turned to the first lieutenant, whose eyes met his, and, unable to maintain his seriousness, he burst into a fit of laughter, in which he was joined by the chief officer. Then, pulling himself together, he snatched out his handkerchief and wiped his eyes.

"Bah!" he ejaculated. "Most unbecoming! I did not mean this, gentlemen; the matter is too serious. But for goodness' sake get below and make yourselves presentable. Mr Anderson, you ought not to have laughed. See to all the poor fellows, sir. The men must have fresh clothes served out, and all who are unfit for duty go into the sick bay."

Then, frowning severely, he turned sharply upon his heels and marched to the cabin door.

"Well," exclaimed the first lieutenant, "of all—'Mr Anderson, you ought not to have laughed!' Well, gentlemen," he cried angrily, as he turned upon the two young officers, "pray what do you find to laugh at? Is my face black?"

"No, sir," cried Murray, in a half-choking voice. "I beg your pardon, sir. It seemed so comic for the captain to turn upon you like that."

"Eh? Humph! Well, I suppose it was. I laughed too. Well, better laugh than cry over spilt milk. It's the excitement, I suppose, and what we have gone through. Now then, we had better go below and interview the doctor; but he will be busy over the lads for a long time before our turn comes."

"I believe the skipper's half-cracked," said Roberts, as the two lads went below to their quarters.

"Then I'd keep my opinions to myself, old fellow," grumbled Murray; and then as he seated himself upon a locker he uttered a low hissing sound suggestive of pain.

"Pooh! This is a free country—no, I don't mean that," cried Roberts, pulling himself up short. "I mean, every man has a right to his own opinions."

"Yes, but not to give them aboard a man-o'-war."

"Bah! We're not slaves. Haven't we come to suppress slavery?"

"I dare say we have," said Murray, "but you'd better not let the skipper know that you said he was a bit of a lunatic."

"Shall if I like. You won't be a sneak and tell. Why, it was ghastly to see him turn as he did. One minute he was speaking feelingly and letting us all see that he meant to spare no efforts about pursuing and punishing that Yankee skipper, and the next he was laughing like a hysterical school-girl."

"He couldn't help it, poor old boy," said Murray. "Old Anderson was just as bad, and we caught the infection and laughed too, and so did the men."

"Well, I can't see what there was to laugh at."

"That's the fun of it. But it is all through every one being so overstrung, I suppose. There, do leave off riddling about your cheeks."

"Who's fiddling, as you call it, about one's cheeks?"

"You were, and it's of no use; the miserable little bits of down are gone, and there's nothing for it but to wait till the hairs begin to grow again."

"Er-r-r!" growled Roberts angrily; and he raised his fingers to the singed spots involuntarily, and then snatched them down again, enraged by the smile which was beginning to pucker up his companion's face. "There you go again. You're worse than the skipper."

"Then don't make me laugh, for it hurts horribly."

"I'll make you laugh on the other side of your face directly."

"No don't—pray don't," sighed Murray; "for the skin there's stiffer, and I'm sure it will crack."

"You're cracked already."

"I think we must all have been, to get ourselves in such a mess, old fellow. But it was very brave, I suppose, and I don't believe any one but English sailors would have done what we did."

"Pooh! Any fools could have started those fires."

"Perhaps so. But what's the matter now?" For Roberts had raised his face from the water he was beginning to use, with an angry hiss.

"Try and bathe your face, and you'll soon know."

"Feel as if the skin was coming off? Well, we can't help it. Must get rid of the black. The skin will grow again. But I'm thinking of one's uniform. My jacket's like so much tinder."

A wash, a change, and a visit to the doctor ended with the sufferers being in comparative comfort, and the two lads stood and looked at each other.

"Hasn't improved our appearance, Dick," said Murray.

"No; but you must get the barber to touch you up. One side of your curly wig is singed right off, and the other's fairly long."

"I don't care," cried Murray carelessly. "I'm not going to bother about anything. Let's go on deck and see what they're about."

Roberts was quite willing, and the first man they encountered was the able-seaman Titely.

"Why, hallo!" cried Murray. "I expected you'd be in hospital."

"Me, sir! What for?"

"Your wound."

"That warn't a wound, sir; only a snick. The doctor put a couple o' stitches in it, and then he made a sorter star with strips o' stick-jack plaister. My belt got the worst of it, and jest look at my hair, sir. Sam Mason scissored off one side; the fire did the other. Looks nice and cool, don't it?"

The man took off his new straw hat and held his head first on one side and then the other for inspection.

"Why, you look like a Turk, Titely," said Murray.

"Yes, I do, sir, don't I? Old Sam Mason's clipping away still. The other chaps liked mine so that they wanted theirs done the same. It's prime, sir, for this here climate."

"But your wound?" said Roberts.

"Don't talk about it, sir, or I shall be put upon the sick list, and it's quite hot enough without a fellow being shut up below. Noo canvas trousis, sir. Look prime, don't they?"

"But, Titely," cried Murray, "surely you ought to be on the sick list?"

"I say, please don't say such a word," whispered the man, looking sharply round. "You'll be having the skipper and Mr Anderson hearing on you. I ain't no wuss than my messmates."

"No, I suppose not," said Roberts, "but—why, they seem to be all on deck."

"Course they are, sir," said the man, grinning. "There's nowt the matter with them but noo shirts and trousis, and they allers do chafe a bit."

Murray laughed.

"But you ought to be on the sick list."

"Oh, I say, sir, please don't! How would you young gentlemen like to be laid aside?"

"But what does the doctor say? Didn't he tell you that you ought to go into the sick bay?"

"Yes, sir," said the man, grinning; "but I gammoned him a bit."

"You cheated the doctor, sir!" said Roberts sternly.

"Well, sir, I didn't mean no harm," said the man, puckering up his face a little and wincing—"I only put it to him like this: said I should only fret if I went on the sick list, and lie there chewing more than was good for me."

"Well, and what did he say?"

"Told me I was a himpident scoundrel, sir, and that I was to go and see him every morning, and keep my left arm easy and not try to haul."

In fact, singeing, some ugly blisters, a certain number of hands that were bound up by the doctor, and a few orders as to their use—orders which proved to be forgotten at once—and a certain awkwardness of gait set down to the stiffness of the newly issued garments—those were all that were noticeable at the first glance round by the midshipmen, and apparently the whole crew were ready and fit to help in the efforts being made to get the sloop out of her unpleasant position in the mud of the giant river.

As for the men themselves, they were in the highest of spirits, and worked away hauling at cables and hoisting sail to such an extent that when the night wind came sweeping along the lower reaches of the river, the sloop careened over till it seemed as if she would dip her canvas in the swiftly flowing tide, but recovered almost to float upon an even keel. Twice more she lay over again, and then a hearty cheer rang out, for she rose after the last careen and then began to glide slowly out into deeper water, just as the captain gave orders for one of the bow guns to be fired.

"Why was that?" said Murray, who had been busy at his duties right aft. "Didn't you see?"

"No. Not to cheer up the men because we were out of the mud?"

"Tchah! No. The niggers were beginning to collect again ashore there by that patch of unburned forest."

"I didn't see."

"That doesn't matter," said Roberts sourly; "but the blacks did, and felt too, I expect. Anyhow, they sloped off, and now I suppose we shall do the same while our shoes are good, for the skipper won't be happy till we're out to sea again."

"Here, what now?" said Murray excitedly. "What does this mean?"

"This" meant cheering and excitement and the issuing of orders which made the deck a busy scene, for the men were beat to quarters ready to meet what promised to be a serious attack. For in the evening light quite a fleet of large canoes crowded with men could be seen coming round a bend of the river, the blades dipping regularly and throwing up the water that flashed in the last rays of the sinking sun, while from end to end the long canoes bristled with spears, and the deep tones of a war song rhythmically accompanied the dipping of the paddles.

"Why, they must be three or four hundred strong, Anderson," said the captain. "Fully that, sir."

"Poor wretches!" muttered the captain. "I thought we had given them lesson enough for one day."

"Only enough to set them astir for revenge," said the lieutenant.

"Well, the lesson must be repeated," said the captain, shrugging his shoulders. "See what a shot will do with that leading canoe. We have come upon a warlike tribe, brave enough, or they would not dare to attack a vessel like this."



CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

DEALING WITH A FLEET.

"I know what I should do," said Murray, as, forgetting the smarting and stiffness from which he suffered, he stood watching the savage fleet steadily gliding down stream.

"What?" said Roberts.

"Get out of the river as soon as I could. We could sail right away now."

"Cowardly," grumbled Roberts. "Why, it would be throwing away the chance of giving the wretches a severe lesson."

"They've had one," said Murray, "and if we sink half-a-dozen of them they'll be ready enough to come on again."

"Then we could sink some more. Why, if you sailed away they'd think we were afraid of them."

"Let them! We know better. It seems a bit horrible with our great power to begin sending grape and canister scattering amongst these slight canoes."

"Oh yes, horrible enough; but they must be taught that they can't be allowed to make war upon other tribes and sell their prisoners into slavery."

"I suppose so," said the lad, with a sigh, possibly due to the pain he still felt from the late fight with the flames.

"Look at that," whispered Roberts excitedly. "Why, the skipper seems to think as you do."

For orders were given, the capstan manned, and the sloop glided towards the anchor by which they now swung, the sails began to fill and help the men in their task, and soon after the anchor stock appeared above the water.

It was quite time, for the canoes were nearing fast, and to the two midshipmen it appeared as if the enemy would be alongside and swarming aboard before their vessel had time to gather way.

"Why don't we fire, Frank?" said Roberts excitedly.

"Because we're not in command," replied Murray coolly, as he tried to measure mentally the length of time it would take for the leading canoe to reach them, rapidly advancing as it was in obedience to the lusty strokes given by some thirty paddles which made the water foam on either side of the frail craft packed with men.

"But it's absurd. The skipper ought to have given the order long ago."

"And filled the surface with dead and dying men floating and struggling amongst the shattered pieces of the canoe?"

"Yes: why not? It's war, sir—war."

"But war when it is a necessity ought to be carried on in as humane a fashion as is possible."

"With people like this? Bah! Why, if they once get aboard they will spear us to a man, or batter our heads with their war clubs."

"They would if they could," said Murray quietly.

"They will, I tell you," said Roberts excitedly.

"No, they will not, old chap, for the skipper won't let them."

"Oh, you!" exclaimed Roberts, who stamped one foot down upon the deck in his excitement. "Why, you are as foolish as our officers."

"Speak gently, or some one will be hearing you," said Murray quietly.

"I want some one to hear me!" exclaimed the lad. "We are giving all our chances away."

"That we are not! I've been trying to calculate how we shall stand for distance when the Seafowl glides off on the other tack."

"So have I," cried Roberts furiously, "and it will be with the crews of two of those war canoes on board spearing and stabbing us."

"Indeed!" said Murray, in quite a drawl. "That doesn't agree with my calculation. I make it that they will be about fifty yards astern, and beyond spear-throwing distance."

"And I tell you that you are all wrong, Frank."

"Well, one of us is, old chap, for certain."

"You!" said Roberts emphatically. "No, I think not, old fellow. You see, too, that I have the skipper's opinion on my side."

"The skipper's opinion isn't worth a pinch of powder. He's a crack-brained lunatic. Here, what do you mean by that?"

"Only to turn my hand into a tompion to stop your fiery, foolish words, old fellow," replied Murray. "You'd look nice if any one carried your remarks to the captain."

"I'm only doing my duty, sir, and am trying to save our ship from the attack of these savages who are bearing down upon us."

"And setting your knowledge of navigation and the management of the Seafowl above that of the captain."

"I tell you I have lost faith in the skipper."

"Of the lieutenant—"

"He does not see our peril."

"And the wisdom of our old and experienced warrant officers," continued Murray.

"There," said the midshipman, "look at that! Not a shot fired, and those two leading canoes abreast of us. There'll be a massacre directly."

"Bravo!" whispered Murray excitedly. "Wonderfully done! You miserable old croaker, wasn't that splendid?"

A minute before, the lad who had remained cool and self-contained during what seemed to be a perilous time, had watched without comprehending the action of the forward guns' crews, who, in obedience to the orders given by the first lieutenant, seized upon the capstan bars and stood ready to starboard and port, waiting for something anticipated.

Then as the Seafowl answered to her helm and Roberts was turning frantic with excitement as he felt that the savages were bound to be aboard directly, the sloop careened over from the force of the breeze when her course was altered, there was a dull crashing sound and her stem cut one long war canoe in two amidships, leaving the halves gliding alongside in company with some fifty or sixty struggling and swimming naked savages, some of whom began to climb aboard by the stays, others by the fore chains; but as each fierce black head rose into sight, there was a tap given by a well-wielded capstan bar, and black after black dropped back into the water, to glide astern, stunned or struggling, to be picked up by his companions in the second boat, which was being overtaken by others, bristling with spears, while the vessel was a cable's length ahead and steadily increasing its speed.

"Now then, Dick, what about my calculation?" said Murray, giving his companion a poke in the side. "Pretty near, wasn't I?"

"Humph! Luck—chance," grumbled Roberts ill-humouredly.

"Of course! But wasn't the captain right?"

"No; he ought to have given the savage wretches another lesson."

"A bloodthirsty one," said Murray. "Pooh! Don't be such a savage, Dick."

"I'm not, sir," retorted the midshipman angrily. "What are our weapons of war for unless to use?"

"Oh yes; of course, when they are wanted. If I were a captain I shouldn't shrink for a minute about firing broadsides and sinking our enemies in times of necessity, any more than I should have minded burning out such a hornets' nest as that yonder; but the captain was quite right over this business. Look at the wretched creatures, regularly defeated."

"They've been allowed to escape, sir," said Roberts haughtily, "and I feel ashamed of our commander."

"I don't," said Murray, laughing. "I think he's a peculiar eccentric fellow, ready to say all kinds of unnecessary things; but he's as brave as a lion—braver, for I believe lions are precious cowards sometimes."

"Pooh!" ejaculated Roberts.

"And the more I know of him the better I like him."

"And I like him the less, and I shall never rest till I can get an exchange into another ship."

"I don't believe you," said Murray, laughing merrily.

"You don't! Why—"

"Pst! The skipper," whispered Murray.

For the captain had approached the two midshipmen, his spy-glass under his arm and his face puckered up with a good-humoured smile.

"Laughing at it, eh?" he said. "That was a novel evolution of war, young gentlemen, such as you never saw before, I'll be bound. There; we might have shattered up the noble black king's fleet and left the river red with what we did and the sharks continued afterwards, but my plan and the master's conning of the vessel answered all purposes, and left my powder magazine untouched ready for the time when we shall be straining every nerve, gentlemen, to overtake that Yankee's schooner. That's what we have to do, Mr Roberts; eh, Mr Murray?"