The raft had struck the limb of an old tree that lay in the water and to the alarm of the General it stuck fast.
“This is terrible. Perfectly terrible,” groaned the General, glancing towards the eastern sky. “It will soon be daylight and the wild men will see us if we are delayed here.”
The men worked with might and main to free the raft, but it was stuck tight to the snag and before they managed to get it free it was broad daylight.
“The wild men have very likely seen us by this time,” said the General, peering towards the island. “So instead of our surprising them, they probably will surprise us, but we have got to land. Examine your rifles and see that they are in condition to use, for we are likely to have a fight.”
“Look there!” cried the Sailor, pointing towards the shore, for the raft was now only a short distance from the island. “There’s something behind that stick.”
“Maybe it’s a wild man,” suggested the Dunce, turning a trifle pale. “Don’t you think we had better go back, General?”
“We intend to go on,” said the General, glancing scornfully at the frightened Dunce, “but if you want to you can jump into the water and swim back.”
“I-I-I think I’ll stay here,” said the Dunce as he thought of the many frogs and turtles that might snap him up if he tried to swim back.
As the raft drew near the shore, several arrows whistled over the soldiers’ heads and instantly a number of wild men sprang up from behind a stick that lay on the shore and began shooting at the raft.
“Make ready, men!” shouted the General, drawing his sword. “Shoot over the wild men’s heads when I give the word to fire. We don’t want to hurt any of them if we can avoid it.”