“Yes; and look there. Why, Pete—am I right? It seemed as if one of the Malays in the front of the far boat stood up and threw a spear.”
“Right you are, sir, and no mistake. There goes another. Can you see how many there are in the first boat?”
“Three, I think; and one’s a woman.”
“I thought two of them,” said Peter; “and there’s eight or ten or a dozen in the other. Well, sir, the far-off one must be enemies, and the little boat must be friends. I know which side we ought to take, and we can now.”
“What do you mean? Fire?”
“That’s right, sir.”
“But we shall show where we are.”
“Of course; but we can’t help that, sir,” cried Peter excitedly. “Here they come. They’ll overtake the little ’un directly. You’ve got bullet cartridges, sir, for I tried one. But I don’t know whether this double gun will carry so far; so you had better wait.”
“One barrel’s rifled, Pete, and it will,” said Archie, drawing himself into a kneeling position and resting the barrels upon a horizontal bough.
“Look sharp, sir! Oh, murder—there goes another spear! I couldn’t hardly see, but it must have gone close to that woman who is handling the bamboo. Oh, do fire, sir!”