sting
forward his gun, he passed the muzzle under a little short thick viper,
which lay basking just in his way, sent it flying, pitchfork fashion.

"Poisonous," said Oliver, who noted where the flat, spade headed little
serpent fell. "Looks wonderfully like an asp, such as they have in
Egypt. Go on faster."

"Can't," grumbled Drew, but he did exert himself, and soon after rose
with a sigh of relief, well hidden by the grove of trees.

"No, no," cried Oliver. "Never mind the canoes. Rimmer's all right
now. Why, Drew!"

"Yes?"

"Smith must have been in the lugger and gone off with him."

"Smith?"

"Yes, he took down the guns and ammunition. We've lost our best man."

They had plenty of opportunity now for keeping under cover, the trees
having rapidly sent out young shoots along the edge of the forest where
they could, since the passing of the earthquake wave, enjoy plenty of
sunshine, and hurrying forward, the pair were not long in catching sight
of the masts of the brig.

"Keep up," said Oliver suddenly, for soon after they had reached to
within sight of home Drew had suddenly stopped short. "What's the
matter?"

"Don't you see?" was the answer. "Quick, keep well under cover."

"What for?"

"Look at the mainmast! There's a danger signal flying."

"Then they have caught sight of the blacks coming on in the distance,
and it is a warning to us to look sharp."

"It's a warning to us to keep off," cried Drew, excitedly; "and there
goes another."

Oliver started, and his heart sank, for he saw that at which his
companion pointed--a puff of white smoke fired from the foretop, and
directly after there was a dull report.

"Look! look!" he too cried, now excitedly, as he pointed between the
leaves, for, not half a mile away, and pretty close to the brig, black
figures were visible, first two or three, then more and more.

"Got here before us," said Drew in a despairing tone.

"No, some more of the black scoundrels must have landed on the other
side of the island."

CHAPTER FORTY NINE.

SMITH'S "NARROW SQUEAK."

"Lane, old chap," said Drew, "can't Panton turn on the fireworks?"

"What do you mean?"

"Poke up the volcano and get up a good eruption, so as to sweep these
wretches away."

"He seems to have already done it," said Oliver, bitterly. "Haven't you
noticed that the ground has been all of a quiver for long enough?"

"No, too much worried over getting away. I wish a good blow u