Atkins, his blazing eyes fixed on the captain's boat, from which every few seconds a bullet came humming overhead, or striking the water within a few yards, laid down the rifle and took off his cap.
“Go ahead, Huka. You're a better Christian than me. Sling out a prayer for these poor chaps as quick as you can. We can't bury them in a decent, shipshape fashion.”
Two men stepped into the sinking, shot-torn boat, and then Huka stood up amidships among his comrades, with bowed head, and his hands crossed upon his great naked chest. He prayed in Samoan.
“O Jehovah, who holdeth the great sea in the hollow of Thy hand, we commit to its depths these the bodies of our shipmates who have been slain. O Father', most just and most merciful, let them become of Thy kingdom. Amen.”
Then, one by one, the bodies of Studdert and of the five natives were dropped overboard by the two seamen as reverently as circumstances permitted, and in silence broken only by the suppressed sobbing of the two girls.
Such stores as were in poor Oliver's boat were next taken out, and then the wrecked and bloodstained craft was cast adrift and left to fill.
As the second mate grasped the haft of the steer-oar again another shot from the captain's boat fell some distance ahead.
“He's running away from us as fast as he can,” said Harvey; “look, he's hauled up a couple of points!”
“Ay, so he has. And our short Sniders won't carry any further than the one he's firing with, so we have no chance of hitting him, I'm afraid. However, just let us try. How many Sniders have we?”
“Seven.”