"We want to be left alone," put in Bob. "If you don't leave us alone, somebody will get hurt."
"Englees," repeated the native. Then, struck by a sudden inspiration, he advanced a few feet, threw down his bow and arrows, and held out his hands.
"He wants to be friendly, evidently," observed Bob.
"If it isn't a trick," answered the young diver. "I must say I don't like their looks."
"No more do I; but what are we to do, retreat?"
"Rather than fall into the hands of cannibals I'd go back over the hills to the cave."
The native was coming closer, and he tried to put as pleasant a look on his face as possible.
But the effort was a failure, for he was both crafty and cruel, and this disposition shone in every line of his reddish-black features.
"Go back!" shouted Bob, and raised the rifle again.
Scarcely had he spoken when there came a shout from the rear, and looking behind them, the two youths found that they were surrounded!