That this was so, and that our projected surprise had proved a lamentable failure, was made clear by the sounds of commotion and the sharp cries of command that at once arose on board the slavers, almost instantly followed by a smart and well-directed musketry fire, the bullets from which came dropping about us in very unpleasant proximity, although, fortunately, nobody was actually hit.

“Separate at once!” cried the skipper, rising in the stern-sheets of the gig as he realised that the time for silence and secrecy was past; “separate at once; spread yourselves along the boom, and let each boat’s crew do its best to make a passage through it. Try the effect of a shot from your gun upon it, Mr Ryan. Marines, return the fire of those craft, aiming at the flashes from their pieces. The first boat to force the boom will report the fact to me before passing through.”

We spread well along the boom, maintaining open order, so that we might afford as small a target as possible, and devoted our energies to breaking through the obstruction at points where the trunks were united by chains; but we found this by no means an easy matter, staples being driven home through the links into the tenacious wood so closely together that it was impossible to find a space wide enough to take the loom of an oar—the only lever at hand, as we had not anticipated or provided for such a contingency. Meanwhile, our adversaries proved themselves fully alive to the advantage which our situation afforded them, and fully prepared to make the most of it, for they kept up a brisk though irregular fire of musketry upon us from which we soon began to suffer rather severely, two of my men being hit within the space of as many minutes, while sharp cries of pain to our right and left told us that the occupants of the other boats were receiving their full share of the slavers’ attentions. This was only the beginning of the conflict, however, for before our marines had had time to fire more than thrice in reply to the slavers’ musketry fire, five fierce flashes of flame burst simultaneously from the side of the largest of the four craft, accompanied by the sharp, ringing roar of brass nine-pounder guns, and instantly a perfect storm of grape tore and whistled about our ears, splintering the planking of the boats and bowling over our people right and left. Three more of my men went down before that discharge, and the cries of anguish from the other boats told that they too had suffered nearly or quite as severely. The gig fared worst of all, however, for an entire charge, apparently, plumped right into her bows, where the men were clustered pretty thickly, helping two of their comrades who were kneeling upon the boom endeavouring to tear asunder its fastenings, and no less than six of her crew fell before that withering discharge, including the two men upon the boom, who both fell into the water, and were never seen again.

“By Jove! this will never do,” cried the captain. “Out oars, men, and pull alongside the pinnace!”

This was done; and as the two boats touched, our gallant leader sprang on board the larger of the two, crying to the second lieutenant—

“Here, Mr Ryan, I will change places with you. Take the gig, if you please, and see if you can cast the boom adrift at its shore end; I will look after matters here meanwhile. Mr Gowland, go you to the other end of the boom, and see what you can do there. Now then, lads, what is the best news there with that gun?”

“Just ready, sir,” came the answer. “Poor Jim Baker was struck, and fell athwart the breech, wettin’ the primin’ with his blood just as we was about to fire, so we’ve had to renew it; but we’re ready now, sir.”

“Very well,” cried the skipper. “Bear the boat off from the boom, and fire at the chain-coupling; that ought to do the business for us.”

The order was promptly obeyed, and a few seconds later the gun spoke out, the shot hitting fair and square, and dividing the two parts of the chain that formed the coupling between two contiguous tree-trunks. A loud hurrah proclaimed this result, yet when the pinnace pulled up to the boom again, and tried to force her way through, it was found that the logs could not be forced apart; evidently they were still united under water.

“Load the gun again, lads, as smartly as you can,” exclaimed the skipper; “and then we must try to roll the logs over, and get the chains above water. Well, what news, Mr Gowland?” as the first cutter was seen approaching us.