There was the sharp report of one barrel, and then, as the smoke rose, Archie fired again, and opened the breech and rapidly inserted the cartridges that Peter handed to him; while, as if startled by the reports, the rowers in the far boat laid on their oars, and those astern started up, and the lads could dimly see their spears bristling in the gathering gloom.
“Give them another, sir—only one—and reload. You missed first time. You must bring down a couple now.”
Archie fired again, and this time one of the Malays seemed to spring out of the boat and drift behind.
“That’s good, sir. Here’s your cartridge. Now then! Give them two now. They are coming straight for us where the smoke shows. Quick, sir!”
Bang, bang went the double gun, the reports almost simultaneous, for in his excitement Archie had no thought of reserving one shot; and as he hastily reloaded he could see in the rapidly dimming light that the rowers were changing the course of their naga, as if to get out of the line of fire, and were beginning to make for the opposite shore; while the big Malay in the small sampan had ceased his efforts to pole his boat more swiftly along, and was using the bamboo to steer the little vessel, which, gathering force from the man’s efforts combined with the swift stream, plunged right in through the hanging boughs behind which the two lads crouched. There was a heavy crash, mingled with the breaking of twigs, and the two lads were driven headlong into the bottom of their boat.
Archie struggled up at once, holding his double gun on high to keep it out of the water, with which he was drenched; and the first thing he could make out through the wide opening torn in their shelter was the naga and its occupants gliding rapidly by, the rowers pulling as if for dear life, and the spearmen crouching down in the bottom, half-hidden by the awning. Then they were gone.
Meanwhile Peter was struggling to free himself from the encumbrance of the big Malay, who had been shot from his own vessel right upon him; and the next thing that met Archie’s eyes, as he gazed through the crushed-down leafage driven before the lesser boat, was Peter’s bayonet-armed hand with the weapon raised dagger-wise, and beyond the Malay, who was holding out his hands, the native boat with the Malay woman, pole in hand, panting hard as if from exertion. Then his eye caught the figure of the other woman, kneeling in the stern.
“Pete, look out! Quick! We must climb into this boat. She’s cut us down. Quick—before it’s too dark to see!”
“Here, I don’t understand, sir. This fellow knocked me down, and—”
“Understand! Can’t you see we are sinking? It’s deep water here.”