hey get hurt and fighting's going on?"

"I suppose so. It seems to take all the fear out of you, and you don't
care for anything. I say--look out!"

For at that moment there was a sharp splitting sound at the cabin
window, the dead-light fell over with a sharp crack, and as a couple of
savage grinning faces appeared, Oliver held out his gun with one hand as
if it had been a pistol, and without attempting to raise his head from
the rough pillow on which it lay, drew trigger.

The effect was instantaneous. One moment the two Papuans were there,
the next they were gone, and a heavy thick smoke rose towards the
ceiling.

"Hit them?" said Panton, excitedly.

"Must have hit them, or they wouldn't have dropped. But some of the
pellets were sure to go home, for it was loaded with small shot."

"You were too quick for me," said Panton, huskily, as Oliver reloaded,
opening the breech as the gun lay across him, only one hand being at
liberty for the task.

"Think they'll come again?" said Oliver, through his teeth, for the
recoil of the gun had horribly jarred his injured arm, and there were
moments when he felt as if his senses were leaving him in a swoon.

"Yes, they'll come again, and I must have a shot this time. Am I loaded
with small shot too? I forget. My head is so horribly muddled."

"Yes, I think so. Look out. I'm not ready."

Panton was looking out, and he, too, saw the top of a mop-headed
savage's fuzz begin to appear softly over the edge of the window, then
dart up quickly and bob down again, after its owner had made a quick
observation.

"Don't fire; he'll come back."

Lane was quite right, for a hand holding a spear was raised now, the
weapon poised ready to be hurled into the cabin. Then the head of the
holder appeared and bobbed down once more.

"Too quick, don't fire," said Oliver, hoarsely. "Wait, and we'll fire
together."

"No, no," said Panton, faintly. "I must have this one."

Up came the bead again sharply, the spear was poised, and, holding on by
the sill with one hand, the savage drew back to give force to his throw,
which was intended for Panton, who lay there as if in a nightmare,
completely paralysed, feeling that he ought to fire to save his friend,
but unable to hold his gun steady for a moment, and to draw trigger.

At last. _Bang_! A terrible yell; the spear dropped on the sill, the
point was then jerked upwards, and struck the top of the window as the
savage fell h