So all wheeled.
Spears were thrown in a cloud from the other side, but each one missed its mark.
"Steady now, men!" cried Duncan. "Be cautious! Fire!"
It was a rattling and a most destructive volley they poured into that savage mob. The terrible shrieking increased, but it was now mingled with howls of pain and impotent rage.
Five more volleys were fired, and as the natives were crowded close together the effect was fearful.
They reeled, they turned, and were about to seek safety in flight when one painted wretch, more brave than his fellows, waving his spear aloft, dashed into the river and commenced to cross.
More than one were following, and had they succeeded in getting over, the fight would doubtless have had a sad and speedy ending.
But now something happened that at once turned the tide of battle.
Vike had hitherto been only a very interested spectator of the fight, but now, seeing that savage half-way across, with a howl and a roar he leapt into the river, and quickly ploughed his way towards him.
All the courage that the cannibal possessed deserted him at once, when he saw what he thought was an evil spirit coming towards him. With a yell that quite demoralized his companions behind, he dropped his spear and tried to rush back.