through the bush. It was as yet very faint
indeed, and would have passed unnoticed but for the strained condition
of his nerves; but it was to him quite perceptible, and approaching
closer and closer every second.

To his unbounded delight, the cannibals now formed a circle and began to
sing, slowly parading round the doomed men and clashing the hafts of
their spears, thus effectually drowning any sounds the approaching
troops might make, and at the same time notifying their presence to the
Japanese. It was broad daylight by this time, and Frobisher kept his
eyes glued in the direction from which the sounds had proceeded, hoping
every second that they would be gladdened by the glitter of approaching
bayonets.

In the midst of the singing the chief, suddenly whipping out his kris,
paused a few seconds on the edge of the circle, looking for a victim,
then sprang like a tiger at one of the Chinese seamen. The man saw him
coming and shrieked pitifully; but he could scarcely have felt his
death, poor fellow, for the next second his severed head fell to the
ground.

Waving the kris above his head, and laughing madly, the chief looked
round for the next victim, and his eyes fell upon Frobisher. The
Englishman breathed a prayer and prepared to meet his death bravely,
keeping his eyes fixed undauntedly on the chief's face. And as he
looked, the fellow suddenly dropped the streaming weapon and, falling
upon his knees, collapsed in a heap, simultaneously with the crack of a
revolver, which was immediately followed by a quick succession of rifle
shots, as hidden marksmen picked out their victims.

Taken completely by surprise, the cannibals were shot down like sheep;
and Frobisher scarcely realised what was happening until he saw the last
savage throw up his hands and fall. Then he felt his bonds slacken, and
he staggered weakly forward, to find himself supported by the arms of a
Japanese officer, while, standing about in groups at the edge of the
jungle, could be seen the figures of the soldiers, leaning upon their
still-smoking rifles.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

FROBISHER CAPTURES THE "SATSUMA."

Several months had passed since the moment when Frobisher stood staring
in the face of death in the Formosan clearing, to be saved in the very
nick of time by a well-directed shot from a Japanese officer's revolver.
Now he, together with Drake and all that remained of the crew of the
_Chih' Yuen_--twenty-three seamen onl