ach and be ready to help them.

These were their plans, but everything depended upon the Papuans, who
had unaccountably disappeared.

For it seemed to all that they ought to have been overtaken some time
before, whereas they had for some time seen no sign of them, nor heard
so much as a whisper.

All at once, when they were still quite a mile from the brig, and while
Oliver was being tortured by opportunities for acquiring magnificent
specimens of butterfly and bird of which he could not avail himself,
Drew stopped short, and let the others come close up to where he was
crouching beneath the huge leaves of a dwarf palm.

"I dare not go any further," he whispered, "for I feel certain that we
are walking right into a trap."

"Why?" asked Oliver. "You say you have neither seen nor heard anything
of them."

"I can't tell you, but somehow I feel as if they are lying in ambush,
waiting for us, and I can't lead you on to your death."

These words acted like a chill to all, and for the full space of a
minute there was utter silence. Then Oliver spoke.

"I feel so weak and helpless, that I do not like to make proposals," he
said, "but how would it be to try and play boldly?"

"How?" asked Panton.

"By taking the initiative and attacking."

"Madness," said Drew.

"I don't know that. Our shots would let Mr Rimmer know that we are in
danger. It is too far-off to make him hear the boatswain's whistle. As
soon as he knew he would come to our help, and we should have the enemy
then between two fires. They would be scared, and either throw down
their arms or take to the woods."

There was silence again after these words, and then Panton spoke.

"Won't do, Lane," he said. "You speak as if you were as strong as Smith
or Wriggs here, and all the time you are as helpless and weak as I."

"Yes," said Drew. "It is like being only three to attack fifty."

Oliver was silent, for he felt the force of his companion's remark.

"Like to send me or Billy Wriggs on ahead, gentlemen?" said Smith.

"What for, man?" said Panton, impatiently.

"I don't quite zackly know, sir, but I've got a brother as is a soger,
and he was a tellin' me that when they fight the niggers up in the
hills, where they shuts themselves up strong behind stone walls, with
lots o' big ones ready to chuck down on them as comes to attack, they
sends some one fust, and calls him a f'lorn hope. I don't quite know
what good it is, but I'll go and be a