uck Ensign Long; and these were
replied to by another sharp volley, which crashed through the trees,
making the twigs and leaves rattle as they pattered down. Then there
was a dead silence, as the troops waited for fresh orders.

Bob Roberts, who was close by the ensign, turned pale as ashes as he saw
the ensign stagger back, to stand literally pinned to a tree, in which
the blade of the limbing had buried itself. All feeling of jealousy had
passed away, and, catching Long by the hand, he gazed earnestly in his
face.

"Are you much hurt, old fellow?" he cried hoarsely, as he realised the
fact that the keen spear had passed diagonally through the youth's
breast before it buried itself in the soft endogenous tree.

"I don't know yet," said Tom Long quietly; "but the brutes have ruined
my best tunic."

"Hang your tunic!" cried Bob, excitedly. "Here, fetch the doctor. No;
help here to get Mr Long to the residency. Bring up a dhooly."

"I suppose I shall feel it when they draw out the spear," said Tom Long
calmly.

"Do you feel faint?" cried the middy. "Here, who has a little rack?"

"Here's some water, sir, in my canteen," said Sergeant Lund. "Forward!"
rang out from behind just then; and then the voice of Captain Smithers
made itself heard,--

"Who's that down?"

"Ensign Long, sir," some one said.

"Poor lad! poor lad!" cried the captain. "Ah, Long, my dear boy, how is
it with you? Good heavens! Quick, my lads; bring up a dhooly."

"Hadn't we better get the spear out, sir?" said Bob Roberts, anxiously.

"Yes, out of the tree, of course," said the captain; "but mind--steady!
Here, let me. I won't hurt you more than I can help," he continued, as
he drew the spear out of the palm, and then hesitated as to how they
were to manage to carry the injured man, with the lengthy shaft passing
through his chest.

Tom Long solved the question himself by taking hold of the spear handle
with both hands and giving it a tug, while every one present gazed at
him with horror, expecting to see the terrible stains that must follow.

Bob Roberts dragged out his handkerchief and rapidly doubled it, ready
to form a pad to staunch the bleeding--rushing forward to clap it to the
wound, as the ensign tore the spear from his breast.

"Open his tunic first," cried Captain Smithers; and he bore Tom Long
back on to the ground, tearing open his scarlet uniform, while the
injured object of his attentions began to work his left