The voices might be those of the natives, who finding we had retreated had pursued us. Hurrying back to the boat as quickly as I could, I roused up Uncle Jack, telling him what I had heard.
“Very likely you are right, Harry,” he answered, “though we might drive back the savages, we could not do so without bloodshed, and our safest plan will be to get our boat off and hold a parley with them from her. If they show hostility, we can keep them at bay until we get to a safe distance.”
Without a moment’s delay we called up our companions. We quickly turned the boat on her keel and ran her down into the water. We two held her, while the rest carried our goods on board.
Just as we were jumping in we saw a number of savages, armed with spears and bows, emerging from the forest, and they, catching sight of us, rushed forward, others following, until a formidable band was collected on the beach.
“Shove off, lads!” cried the first mate, seizing an oar, and the rest of us imitating his example, aided by the wind, we speedily drove the boat away from the shore.
The savages, seeing us about to escape them, bent their bows and let fly a shower of arrows, which came whistling about our ears, some falling in the boat and others on either side.
The first mate steered, Blyth sat by his side with a musket in his hand ready to fire, while our Papuan guide crouched down in the stern-sheets.
“Shall I fire?” asked Blyth, “I can knock over one of those fellows; the chief, I suspect, who seems to be leading them on.”
“No, hold fast, I would not injure the poor wretches if it can be avoided,” answered the first mate. “We shall be out of their reach in another minute. We can then settle how to treat with them.”
A few strokes took us beyond the range of their missiles. He was right, for their bows were comparatively small, intended rather to shoot birds than for war, while their javelins could not be thrown to any great distance.