ear that
all felt the danger of attempting to speak, lest they should bring the
enemy upon them.

Somehow, in spite of his being the youngest, Drew and Panton fell into
the habit of letting Oliver Lane take the post of leader, and when after
a long and wearisome period of waiting he whispered his ideas, they were
accepted at once, as being the most sensible under the circumstances.

Oliver's plan was this: to gradually creep back from the position they
occupied, until they felt that they were out of hearing, and then to
bear off to their left, and gradually get round to the other side of the
brig, which would thus be placed between them and the enemy.

The greatest caution was necessary in the presence of so wary a foe, and
it was not until this had been duly impressed upon the two sailors that
Oliver began the retrograde movement so slowly and softly that his
companions could hardly realise the fact that he had started.

Panton followed, then Smith and Wriggs, and Drew brought up the rear.

They had all risen and followed one another in Indian file, almost
without a sound. But the murmuring that was made by the Papuans came
softly through the darkness, as if the savages were engaged in a debate
upon the subject of how they had better make their next attack.

Then all at once there was a sharp crack, for Oliver had stepped upon a
large, thin shell, which broke up with a fine ear-piercing sound, that
must have penetrated for a long distance.

That it had reached the spot where the Papuans were was evident, for the
murmuring of voices ceased on the instant.

"Down. Lie down," whispered Oliver. "They will come to see what the
noise was."

They lay down upon the soft sand, listening with every nerve upon the
strain, but not for long. Before many seconds had passed, there was a
peculiar soft, rattling sound such as would be made by a bundle of reed
arrows, secure at one end and loose at the other. This noise came
nearer, and then at a little distance, as they held their breath, it
seemed as if a shadow passed by, and then another, and another.

Oliver's hand which held his gun trembled, not from fear, but from the
nervous strain, and the knowledge that at any moment he might, for the
first time in his life, be compelled in self-defence, and for the
protection of his companions, to fire upon a party of savages, and so
shed the blood of a human being.

He stretched out his left hand as the third shadowy figure