Once again Blight turned to the half-pacified chiefs, a rapid exchange of words followed, and in the end the latter signed to their people to free the captives from their terrible position.
"That's over, thank God!" ejaculated Mr. McKay with intense fervour. "Tell the chiefs I'm going to make them a present," and putting his rifle to his shoulder he fired six shots in the air in rapid succession.
Astonishment held the natives spell-bound; they had never before seen a magazine rifle discharged. The sharp "crack" of the weapon, its smokelessness, and the peculiar screech of the nickel bullets filled them with awe, and with great hesitation they accepted the six empty cartridge-cases as an exchange for the release of the intended victims.
"They've given you a tally, boss," observed Blight. "They call you 'The Wonder that Breathes Fire.'"
"I hope they will bear it in mind then," replied Mr. McKay. "Now let them proceed with the launching operations. When all is ready we will set sail. By the by, what was that noise we heard last night?" he inquired, turning to the ex-pearler.
"Noise! What noise, boss?"
"A kind of prolonged roar of distant thunder. Twice it occurred."
"Oh! I know what you mean. We don't take no notice of it in these parts. It's the 'Barking Sands.' See yon hills?"—pointing to a ridge of sand dunes about sixty feet in height. "The stuff's slippery like, and often it rolls down, and makes a row. There's a sight of other islands about here like it."
Half-an-hour later a flotilla of nine canoes, crowded with armed natives, paddled slowly towards the entrance of the lagoon. As they passed the white men's craft, their paddles rose in the air to the accompaniment of a sonorous salute.
Then, as the dripping anchor rose clear of the water, the breeze filled the sails of the yawl, and she, too, started to play her part in the hazardous enterprise.