ang up, and Bladud, forgetting both helmet and
shield in the hurry of the moment, poised the mighty javelin which had
so astonished its owner's enemies in days gone by, and in another moment
hurled it shrieking through the air. It flew straight as a thunderbolt
at the pirate chief; pierced through shield and breastplate, and came
out at his back, sending him headlong into the arms of his horrified
crew.

The whole incident was so sudden that the pirates had scarcely time to
recover from their surprise when the bow of the _Penelope_ crashed into
the side of their vessel and stove it in, for the trader, like some of
the war-vessels of the period, was provided with a ram for this very
purpose.

As the _Penelope_ recoiled from the shock, a yell of rage burst from the
pirates, and a volley of javelins and stones followed, but, owing to the
confusion resulting from the shock, these were ill-directed, and such of
them as found their mark were caught on the shields. Before another
discharge could be made, the pirate vessel heeled over and sank, leaving
her crew of miscreants struggling in the sea. Some of them--being,
strange to say, unable to swim--were drowned. Others were killed in the
water, while a few, taking their swords in their teeth, swam to the
trader and made desperate attempts to climb on board. Of course they
failed, and in a few minutes nothing remained of the pirate vessel to
tell of the tragedy that had been enacted, except an oar or two and a
few spars left floating on the sea.

"Would that all the sea-robbers in these parts could be as easily and
thoroughly disposed of," remarked the captain, as he gave orders to
re-hoist the sail. "Ho! Bladud, my worthy prince, come aft here. What
detains you?"

But Bladud did not answer to the call. A stone from the enemy had
fallen on his defenceless head and knocked him down insensible.

Four of the men now raised him up. As they did so, one of the men--the
small seaman, Maikar--was found underneath him in a state of
semi-consciousness. While they carried Bladud aft, the little sailor
began to gasp and sneeze.

"Not killed, I see," remarked the mate, looking into his face with some
anxiety.

"No, not quite," sighed Maikar, drawing a long breath, and raising
himself on one elbow, with a slightly dazed look, "but I never was so
nearly burst in all my life. If an ox had fallen on me he could not
have squeezed me flatter. Do, two of you, squeeze me the o