“Let ’em have it again,” roared the captain from the second boat.
The remaining two barrels rang out, and those who fired sprang up and dashed through the water to reach the larger boat, where they were seized and dragged in and under cover.
None too soon, for a little shower of arrows came aboard and through the sails, which were shivering in the brisk breeze.
The next minute, in response to a thrust or two, and a touch at the tillers, both sails half-filled, and the boats were gliding swiftly away from the shore, the arrows coming more and more seldom, till the last two failed to reach them, but fell into the water twenty yards astern.
Then the captain, who had been tending the wounded man, rose up and said, loud enough for those in both boats to hear:
“There we are then, my lads, quite out of danger now, and nothing to mind but a few canoes up stream and a few more down; but look here, I’ve just got this to say to you all: if you’d had your way there’d have been a big fire ashore to-night and a general collection of Indians to the biggest roast they had enjoyed for years. After it was over everyone of those copper-skinned gentlemen would have been going about with a good big bit of my crew in his inside. That’s quite true, isn’t it, Mr Briscoe?”
“Oh, yes,” said the American: “these people are cannibals still when they get the chance.”
“That’s so,” cried the captain; “and now you know, my lads. There, you’ve had your touch of the gold fever, and if we get back on board I’ll give every man-jack of you a dose of quinine. But now I shall say no more about it, for I see you’re all sorry for being such fools, and are going to fall back into your work.”
There was a low murmur of assent at this, and the captain spoke again:
“What say, Sir Humphrey?”