ifficult to see more
than a few feet. It was time to begin moving, and again a call brought
all the garrison to the gate.

"This is the bomb which I hope will help us," said Dick, a grim smile on
his lips. "Look at it there, gunpowder and bombs. Very well, then; I
have showed it so that you will not stumble on to it. Let each one now
lie down at the gate. When I give you the order you will all file out,
and on your return you will find the gold bags where they are now, and
the lantern beside them. Each will take a bag and retire to the back of
the stockade. There one of your chiefs will be waiting for you, and he
will give you the direction. You will make for the forest and the
boats. A last warning. Do not get too close to the enemy. You know
their position, and can creep sufficiently near to make your shots tell.
Shout to one another, and make it appear as though a rush were about to
be made. In a quarter of an hour you can begin to retire. Come back,
firing slowly. When you meet me I will send the word to each. Then
slink off at once. Now, Johnnie, the drum of kerosene."

He took the cap full of gunpowder, and began to lay a train, spilling
the black grains in a thick line across the grass towards the hut. He
ran it in through the door, faking care to keep the train well to one
side where his feet would not touch it. Then he emptied what remained
in a pile in the very centre. And meanwhile Johnnie carried the lamp,
giving just sufficient light to show the way, and holding it as far from
his barrel of kerosene as possible. And now there remained but two
things to do. There were a few drops of water left in the bottle, drops
to which the black had drawn Dick's attention without avail. He took
them now and threw them on his little heap of powder, stirring the mass
with his fingers, and kneading it till he had the substance soft and
sticky. Then he arranged it in the shape of a pyramid, and, having made
his "devil," carried it into the far corner of the room. He still had a
few grains of powder left, and these he ran as a train from the devil to
the clothing and odd stores which lumbered the floor.

"Finished," he said at length, surveying his work with much pleasure.
"Now the oil."

Taking the drum, he pulled the cork out of the bung-hole and let the
contents pour over the heap in the centre of the hut. He threw some
over the walls, saturating every corner save the one in which the devil
was