given the alarm----"

"There he is noo!" cried Mac. "Gie me ma gun, Stewart, an' A'll
obleeterate him, nae matter wha's grandfaither he is."

I caught a glimpse of the huge ape swinging backwards into the thicket,
then Mac's vengeful weapon spoke, and the Sakis' strange scout came
tumbling to the ground. A yell of rage issued from the forest, and
instantly a number of our late pursuers appeared and dragged the
orang-outang back whence they came.

"I haven't had much opportunity of studying the beggars," said Phil,
"but I'm not growling. They are the most apish people I could ever have
imagined."

"Instead of gold," commented Skelton grimly, "we've all got a fair-sized
dose of malaria----"

"And various other trifles," added Mac, as he extracted the darts from
the more fleshy portions of his anatomy.

"We'll leave the gold alone this time, boys," I climaxed; "but we'll
have another try when we can get a stronger party together. Meanwhile,
we had better make tracks for the coast, and recuperate our energies."

XII

A WEEK-END ADVENTURE

For several years it has been my habit to spend my week-ends during the
summer and autumn months in a small yacht called the _Thelma_, of about
five tons, as a welcome change from the confined life of the City.

Many and many a happy, lazy time have I spent in her, sometimes by
myself, at others with a companion, at various delightful spots round
our eastern and southern coasts, occasionally taking short cruises along
the seaboard, but more often lounging about harbours and estuaries, or
even exploring inland waters.

On these occasions many little incidents and adventures have occurred,
which, though full of interest to any one fond of yachting, yet are
hardly worthy of print, and it was not until about a year and a half ago
that the following events took place, and seemed to me of sufficient
interest to record.

The _Thelma_ was at the time at an anchorage in one of my favourite
spots, a somewhat lonely East-coast estuary, within easy reach of the
open sea, and, more important still in a way, fairly close to a
main-line railway-station, so that I could get to her from town without
wasting much of my precious time on the way. I had run down late on a
Friday night early in September, rejoicing, as only a hard-worked City
man can rejoice, in the thought of a good forty-eight hours of freedom
and fresh air. I was alone, as my exit from town was rather unexpected,
and