han he was at
that moment, for the spears flew all round him, one of them actually
sweeping the cap off his head; but he remained untouched. Leslie at
once raised his rifle to his shoulder, and selecting as a mark the
individual who wielded the steering-paddle--in whom he instantly
recognised the ci-devant Cuffy, with Sambo standing next to him--fired.
The savage flung up his arms, staggered for a moment, and then fell
backward overboard. Then, as the catamaran swept ahead, he caught a
glimpse of something white lying in the stern of the canoe that he knew
must be Flora's white-clothed body.

Quick as thought Leslie recharged both rifles, and hauling his wind,
shot athwart the bows of the canoe; then he tacked, and, shaping a
course that would enable him to cross the canoe's stern at a distance of
about eighty yards, hauled his fore sheet to windward, checking the way
of the catamaran and allowing her to cross quite slowly. Then he once
more raised his rifle, and pointed it at Sambo. But the tragic fate of
Cuffy had already produced its effect upon the now thoroughly terrified
savages, who by this time realised that to remain in the canoe was but
to court death. Yet what else could they do? There was but one
alternative, and that was--to jump overboard, and trust to their ability
to swim to the island that loomed ghostly in the moonlight ahead. And
this they did, one after the other--the laggards being stimulated by
another shot or two from Leslie's rifle--until the canoe, a fine big
craft of about five feet beam and forty feet long, fitted with an
outrigger, was empty of savages. Then, without troubling himself
particularly as to what was likely to become of his beaten foes, Leslie
gibed over, and shot alongside the canoe, jumping into her with the end
of a rope that he had already made fast on board the catamaran. This
rope's-end he deftly threw in the form of a half-hitch round the
quaintly carved figure-head of the canoe, taking the end aft and making
it fast round the heel of the mast, thus effectually securing the craft
to the catamaran in a manner convenient for the towage of the former.
This done, he strode aft, until he came to where Flora lay. And his
blood rose to boiling-point as he bent over her; for he saw that not
only had she been gagged, but that she had also been bound hand and foot
so cruelly tight that she must have endured hours of untold agony.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

THE DRIFTING RAFT