Quambo was first. He thrust at one of the guards with his spear as he passed; but, rushing on and heeding nothing, hurled his whole gigantic force against the frail bamboo door.
It gave way at once. It flew into flinders in fact. Meanwhile, Savoo, club in hand, had followed Quambo to the fire.
Thud! thud! Two awful blows; and the two remaining sentries were disposed of, and stretched beside the one Quambo had speared.
There was nothing left for Fred or Frank to do.
"Friends," cried Quambo as soon as the door flew open, "are you all here, men?"
"The Lord's name be praised!" cried the Yankee skipper, "whoever you are. But we're all tied and trussed like fowls goin' to the market."
Frank was beside his old captain in a minute, and Fred showed a light from his bull's-eye lantern.
What a fearful sight! Every man was tied up in a bundle, as it were; and when the cords were cut, for a few moments they scarce could stand.
Here was a new danger that had not even been thought of. They could not carry the men, and what if they could not walk?
But the odour of their prison was like that of some vile charnel-house; and it was as much this as their cramped position that rendered them so helpless.