“If they don’t give us some help soon from the yacht, Jack,” said the doctor rather despondently, “it will go rather badly with us.”
“Oh, don’t say that,” cried the boy, whose face was flushed with excitement.
“I am compelled to, my lad. If anything happens to me, keep the men rowing for the yacht. They must send help soon.”
“I don’t see them lowering down a boat,” replied Jack. “Oughtn’t we to fire?”
“I’m afraid that it would be no good. But we must not let them master us without striking a blow to save our lives.”
“Striking a blow to save our lives,” thought Jack, as he glanced round him and saw their helpless position, for to have tried to escape by rowing, if they were cut off from the yacht, seemed to be folly.
But, as is often the case when things look blackest, a ray of light suddenly gleamed out. There had been no signs of help from the yacht, but all the same those on board had not been neglectful, and as soon as the danger the returning boat ran was seen, Sir John and the captain prepared the needed help.
All at once there was a white puff of smoke seen to dart from the yacht’s bows. The water close to the middle of the great canoe was sent flying, and as the roar of a gun echoed from the mountain side, the canoe was seen to be cut right in two, and slowly settling down, with half her men in the water.
“That was a charge of grape-shot, I know,” growled Lenny. “Round-shot wouldn’t ha’ done it.”
“Hah!” ejaculated the doctor. “Pull, my lads, as you’ve never pulled before.”