pass to the front of the stockade know their orders well. Each will
attempt to find an enemy, and will fire. He will fire into the forest
if he can see none, and will retire slowly, firing occasionally all the
while. His duty also is to run from side to side, so that it may
trouble the enemy to know where we are coming. But gradually the miners
are to collect closer to the right, and we hope the enemy will gather
there, too. If all is well with us by then, you will know, for one will
return. Then you will pass on to the men in front. They will retire,
and we shall make for the forest--that is, all but myself."

Dick expressed his satisfaction, and was about to turn away when Johnnie
came forward to speak to him.

"What Johnnie do?" he asked.

"You will lead the men to the road through the forest," said Dick.
"Once you reach the launch, get your fire going and steam up. Then lay
off, with a boat attached, if you think the launch will not carry all of
us. See that the gold is packed on board, and, above all, destroy the
other boats. Beat them to pieces and sink them in the stream, where
they will not block your path. Wait and be ready for those who follow.
The chief and myself may have to run for it."

"And why me not stay to help massa?" demanded the little black fellow,
earnestly. "We know de path in de forest. Me quick, and can help. Why
me not stay?"

"Because in this matter of our escape every man must carry out the task
for which he is best fitted. We rely on you, Johnnie, to get steam up.
If you fail, what will happen to us all?"

"Um! Me see well 'nough now," was the answer. "Me go right 'nough.
But me rather stay, massa. Me always want to help."

Dick patted him on the back, for he had long ago seen that Johnnie was a
faithful fellow, and had taken his master into his special favour. He
did not trouble to seek the cause, but knew that it was a fact--the
little man had been proving his devotion to him in a hundred ways since
they two had been left alone at the goldmine. But had Johnnie been
asked, he would have quickly supplied a reason.

"Me lob Massa Dick," he would often murmur to himself. "He not like
some of dese white men who comes to de coast. Dey velly young often--
jest like him--and dey tink dat dey oh so much finer dan de poor black
man. So dey am; but no need kick and swear at um. Massa not like dat.
He say, `please, Johnnie,' nice and friendly, when he want him food.
A