TY NINE.

THE VALUE OF A LADDER.

A yell of triumph rose from the savages, and they stopped short to send
a little flight of arrows at the knot of men struggling to their feet--
no easy task, for Panton's right leg had gone between two of the rounds,
and as he strove to get up he jerked the implement, and upset Smith
again.

"Don't--don't fire," cried Drew, who rushed forward, and none to soon;
for the clicking of locks came out of the thin mist. "Friends!
friends!"

A cheer rose at this; but it was answered by another yell, and the
savages came on now at a run.

"Hurt, Lane, old chap?"

"Don't talk: forward, all of you."

Somehow or another the little party, hurt and unhurt, rose to their
feet, and ran hard for the brig, fortunately only a short distance away,
but their speed did not equal that of the arrows winged after them, and
one of the deadly missiles struck Panton in the shoulder, making him
utter an angry ejaculation, stop, turn, and discharge both barrels of
his gun at the advancing enemy.

"Don't; don't stop to do that," groaned Oliver. "To the brig, man--to
the brig."

He spoke in great pain, but the two shots had their effect, for they
checked the advancing enemy for a few moments, and gave the flying party
time to struggle to the side of the brig, but utterly worn out and
exhausted. Then a terrible feeling of despair came over them as they
looked up and saw that if the savages came on their case was hopeless,
for the gangway was fastened up and sails had been rigged up along the
bulwarks as a protection against an attacking foe, while to open out and
let down steps would have taken many valuable minutes, and given the
enemy time to seize or slay.

"Quick, my lads, throw them ropes. Hold on below, there; we'll soon
haul you up."

Oliver saw that long before they could be dragged up it would be all
over with them, and he placed his back to the vessel's side, meaning to
sell his life as dearly as he could, while the others followed his
example, feeling completely shut out from the help they had sought.

"Fire over our heads, sir," cried Drew, "we must not wait for ropes."

"Yes. Guns, all of you," cried Mr Rimmer, as the savages came on in
the moonlight, winging arrow after arrow, which stuck in the ship's side
again and again.

"Hooray for Billy Wriggs!" yelled Smith just then, as his comrade came
panting up last.

"Here y'are gents," cried Wriggs, and with steady hands he planted t