[Illustration: Like a terrier let loose amidst a swarm of rats the submarine dashed towards the canoes.]
In less than an hour the main body of the natives returned. They were in a great state of joy and excitement, for the Olive Branch had sailed, and the creek was clear, and they could now ferry themselves across and regain their miserable village without fear of molestation. Three litters were hastily constructed by means of spears and lengths of undressed hide, skins being thrown upon them to complete these rough-and-ready contrivances. Upon them the white captives were unceremoniously deposited, and with a weird song of triumph the savages wended their way through the forest to the shore of the creek.
Here a score of muscular arms soon righted the upturned canoes, and on being launched the unstable, yet heavy, dug-outs were so crowded that their gunwales amidships were barely six inches above water. Still scarcely alive to the hazardousness of his position, Stockton found himself lying at the bottom of one of the largest canoes, with Slade and the seaman beside him, both still unconscious and breathing heavily.
Well it was that the storm had abated as suddenly as it had sprung up, and that the ebb tide had now changed to the gentle flood, otherwise the canoes would have inevitably been swamped.
Urged by the powerful strokes of a score of paddles, the craft in which Jack lay shot ahead of the other canoes, its crew giving vent to a long-drawn song as they kept time with their quickly flashing blades.
Suddenly the song of the savages gave place to a yell of terror. They dropped their paddles, stood upright in their fragile craft as if paralysed by a nameless horror; then, overcoming their immobility, they plunged over the side. Relieved of their weight the canoe rocked violently, while a cascade of splashes from the agitated water descended upon the bodies of the three white men.
Then to Stockton's utter astonishment he heard a hearty voice exclaim, "Here they are, by Jove!" and three brawny seamen took a flying leap from somewhere fair into the bottom of the canoe.
"Be sharp! Pass them out!" ordered a voice that Jack knew so well, and the next moment he found himself being carefully, but swiftly, lifted from the canoe on to the narrow platform of the Olive Branch's submarine.
"Thank goodness you're saved!" muttered Gerald, fervently.
The survivors of the unfortunate expedition were carefully passed through the narrow forehatchway, then, scorning to take shelter, Gerald steered the submarine from the skeleton platform surrounding the outside of the conning-tower.