“Never mind, Massa Walter,” he answered; “shove off—shove off, I say;” and running the canoe down to the water, he forced us both into it, putting a paddle into the hand of each. “Dere, dere, you go off; I come off in ’noder canoe! Go, go! I say, go!”
Hitherto we had been unable to ascertain the cause of the alarm exhibited by the princess. At that moment we learned it too well, by hearing some shouts in the distance. They became louder and louder, and as they did so, her agitation increased. We endeavoured to thank her for her kindness, but she seemed too anxious to get us off to take any notice of our gestures. Trusting that we might discover the brig we had seen on the previous night, we paddled away with might and main. My heart misgave me, though, as to what would become of Macco. We saw him still on the beach waving an adieu, till both his form and that of the princess were almost hidden by the mist. The shouts increased in loudness, and just then, glancing over our shoulders, we saw a number of gigantic looking forms—gigantic they looked through the mist—rushing down with uplifted clubs towards where our friends were standing. Life was sweet to us; we could not help our friends, and we paddled away. A shriek reached our ears, but the shadowy forms were no longer visible—indeed, the whole land was concealed by the mist. On we paddled for our lives. Every instant we expected to be pursued, for though our canoe was the only one we had seen, we could not help fearing that there must be others in the neighbourhood, into which the savages would certainly get, and come in chase of us. As far as we could judge, we were pulling directly out to sea. The shouts had died away. They had assisted us somewhat in directing our course through the mist. We again heard them; they seemed to be approaching.
“We are pursued,” cried Oliver.
“Then we must pull away faster,” said I.
Again louder and louder grew the shouts. Our hopes of escape began to vanish.
“I am afraid we shall again be made prisoners,” I observed to Oliver.
“Don’t let us despair,” he answered. “We have been preserved hitherto. The same Power can still take care of us. See, see! What is that?” Just then, the mist breaking, we saw appearing above it the topgallant sails of a square-rigged vessel.
“The brig, the brig!” I shouted.
We paddled on with redoubled vigour. She was still at a considerable distance. Behind us rose the fierce cries of the savages. The surface of the water, which had hitherto been calm, now became somewhat agitated. The mist rose. Before us appeared the brig, and turning round our heads, we saw at almost an equal distance a couple of canoes. On we dashed, shouting at the same time at the top of our voices. The people on board the brig apparently heard us, for a boat was lowered. The wind was moderate; but still a heavy surf rolled in on the shore. At that moment the fragile canoe was lifted up by a sea, and then down she came upon a bed of rocks, almost splitting in two.
“On, on!” I cried to Oliver, throwing off my jacket; “we must swim for it!” and seizing him by the arm, I helped him to wade across the reef, and then plunging into the sea, we swam off towards the boat. Her crew perceived our danger, and with sturdy strokes pulled towards us. A glance I cast behind showed me that one of the canoes of the savages had met with the same accident that we had, and several dark heads were seen floating in the water, and getting fearfully near us. One of our pursuers, I saw, held a club in his hand. Had I been alone, I might easily have kept ahead of the savages, as we had so much the start of them; but Oliver not being so good a swimmer as I was, made but slow progress. The other canoe, avoiding the reef on which we had struck, made for an opening in it, and was only a short distance behind the swimmers. I looked up. Oh, how long the boat appeared to be coming! Still she was coming; and I urged Oliver to