with a marlin-spike,
but he still clung to the oar he was trying to use. Another black
plunged through the window into the water, while several threw
themselves from the deck and began swimming towards the boat.

Ralph noticed that Duff could not stand. He took both oars, and,
notwithstanding his weak condition, soon placed the boat beyond the
reach of pursuit.

The blacks, realizing this, turned and were swimming back to the
schooner, when one of them rose half his length from the water, sending
forth a piercing cry of agony. Then he was suddenly jerked beneath the
waves, as if by some powerful though unseen agency.

"What did that?" exclaimed Ralph, horror stricken.

"Sharks," returned Duff sententiously, pointing to several dark pointed
fins that now appeared, all making for the schooner. "The rascals are
never far away from a ship in these latitudes."

"This is horrible!" exclaimed the lad, pulling on one oar to turn the
boat round.

"What are you doing?" demanded Duff.

"I am going to try and save some of those niggers. I know they are
bad; but we made them so. I can't stand it, I tell you, to see them
eaten up in that way. Look!"

There came another shriek, and a second trail of blood rose to the
surface of the sea as another victim was dragged beneath.

"I know," replied Duff. "But--self preservation first. Lock there,
will you!"

Regardless of their screaming comrades who were trying to reach the
ship, the blacks on board were striving to turn the big Long Tom
amidships so as to bring it to bear upon the yawl.

"That cannon is loaded--with slugs and scrap iron. Captain had it done
in order to sweep the decks, if necessary. But they gave us no chance
and the load is in it yet. Give me an oar. Pull now--for your life!
Lucky it is they don't know much about sighting a gun."

Suiting his action to his words the mate literally forced the lad to
obey. Other cries sounded, and Ralph caught a glimpse of two or three
scrambling on board again by the aid of a rope that happened to hang
over the side.

His strength was nearly gone, and only an intense resolution kept him
to his task at the oar. Duff, behind Ralph, also pulled away, though
the strain caused him to groan now and then.

"Are you hurt?" asked the boy as they drew rapidly away from the now
dreaded ship.

"Leg broke. Shot below the knee. Hist! They are going to try it now."

A large negro was hastening from the cook's galle