The major had evidently caught the idea, and he too drew back, when once more came the terrible yell, and the keen point and half a dozen feet of the lance dropped into sight, while through the leaves which partially concealed him they could make out a portion of the figure of the savage.
The silence now was terrible, and Mark held his breath, hardly daring to breathe, in dread lest the major should fire, for he could have laid the man lifeless without raising the gun to his shoulder.
Then all at once, in the midst of the hot stillness of that tropic land, with the blue sea lying calm beyond, the sparkling creamy foam where the ocean pulsated on the coral-reef, there came a hideous screech and the swift beat of wings.
Startling enough, but only the cry of a passing parrot, and the sound had hardly died away when the point of the spear was slowly raised, and disappeared behind the trees.
Then once more came the loud yell.
“Yah!” and its repetition three times, now telling of the savages being scattered. And then—
“Oh, dear! oh, dear! Where can they be got to? I’m sure I saw ’em come by here.”
“How—how—how—how!” burst out Bruff, and shaking his head free he leaped out, followed by Mark and the major, to confront their spear-armed enemy, about whom the dog was leaping and fawning.
“Why, Jimpny,” cried Mark, “is this you?” as he caught the stowaway’s hand.
“You scoundrel!” roared the major. “You frightened us, and—no, you didn’t quite frighten us,” he said, correcting himself, “but we thought you were a savage!”