or so before
the hopes of escape which filled the minds of the fugitives had been
suddenly upset by the boom of the heavy piece owned by the enemy, and by
the hum of a bullet along the deck of the launch. There was a steady
arm holding the gun, and had they but known it this native was one of
King Koffee's chief marksmen, an old hunter from the interior, who held
a high place in the army mainly because of his prowess with the rifle in
question. And the boat in which he sat, or knelt, was not so far behind
that he was out of range, or even nearly so. Indeed, barely a minute
had passed since the launch had overrun the first of the big war boats,
and had sent her to the bottom. It was only a few seconds since Johnnie
had plied his shovel to such good effect, and the enemy were still at
close quarters. Nor were they minded to permit these audacious
strangers to escape so easily. A yell, a discordant shriek of
indignation had gone up as the launch dashed into and splintered the
native craft, and that had been followed by a babel of shouts, by the
clash of many a war drum, and the blowing of horns, while instantly the
whole fleet had swung round and had followed, their guns pouring slugs
after the launch. Dick could see them clearly, the paddlers plying
their blades with terrific energy, and the fighting men standing or
kneeling, ramming charges into their muzzle-loaders in desperate haste.
Then had come that boom followed by the hum of the big bullet.

"Dat de man," said Johnnie, as he held his rifle to his shoulder. "He
just 'bout to stand and fire um gun. See um drop de villain."

At once our hero's rifle went to his shoulder, and, having waited to
hear the snap of his comrade's, and note that he had failed to hit the
mark, he pressed his trigger gently, holding his weapon as rigidly as
the trembling of the launch would allow. Instantly there was an
answering report from the native boat, and he felt the breath of the
shot as it raged past his cheek and flew on ahead. Then the man who had
fired staggered, drew himself up and, holding his huge weapon above his
head, toppled and fell like a stone into the river.

"Got um! By gum! but dat a fine shot! Johnnie's no good. Bad. Velly
bad. Hear um shout. No more pills ob dat size come after us."

"It was a lucky shot and may save our lives. The beggar meant potting
us, and there is no doubt that he was a fine shot, and knew his weapon.
If one of his bullets h