ells to blow
the heap of faggots away."

"Good," cried Panton, and he ran to get one of the powder-filled tins
just as a couple of fire-flies of a different kind were seen to be
gliding toward the vessel from the nearest point in the forest.

"No," said Oliver, addressing Smith, who had not spoken, but after
hurling down the last bucket of water had seized his gun once more.
"Those are not fire-flies but fire sticks."

"Yes, sir, they're a-goin' to light us up, so that we can see to shoot
some of the beggars, for up to now, it would ha' been like aiming at
shadders. Is it begin, sir?"

"No, wait till Mr Panton has thrown down the powder."

Smith drew a long breath, and just as the two bright points of light
disappeared under the faggot heap, piled now right up among the tarry
stays beneath the bowsprit, Panton came up with his lighted fuse.

"Now," he said, "down by the side or right atop?"

"Down beside it, or it will do more harm to us than to them."

"Here goes," said Panton, and steadily giving the fuse a good puff which
lit up his face, he pitched the shell gently, so that it should roll
down beyond the faggots, and they watched it as it went down and down
with the fuse hissing and sputtering as it burned.

"Now, then," cried Oliver, "down: everyone flat on the deck."

"No go," said Panton sharply. "I heard the fuse hiss: it fell right in
the water beneath."

At that moment one of the dry, freshly-thrown faggots, of those the
blacks kept on steadily piling up, began to blaze, then to crackle and
roar, and directly after a blinding, pungent smoke arose, and set dead
on the bows and over the deck, driving the defenders away.

The next minute the pile was hissing and roaring with increasing fury,
and, as the surroundings were illumined, the blacks could be seen
running now, each with his faggot, which he threw on to the heap, where
the fire grew fiercer and fiercer, and licked up the water which clung
to the lower layer, as if it had been so much oil.

"The powder, the powder!" yelled Wriggs.

"It's of no use, my man," cried Oliver, "it would only increase the
fire."

"Hadn't we better shoot some of the beggars down, sir?" said Smith.

"What would be the good?" replied Oliver. "Even if we killed a dozen or
two we should be no better off. Now, every man be ready with his gun,
in case they try to swarm on deck."

He motioned his devoted band a little back, for Panton somehow resigned
everything