ad hit either of us I imagine that we should have
been killed instantly. It must have been like a young cannon firing a
very big charge, for did you see how the recoil shook him?"

The stoker nodded emphatically. "Not like shoot such gun often," he
said. "Make shoulder sore. But what massa do now? Stop here and fire,
so as make dem sorry dey get in de way?"

"No, thank you," was the dry answer. "I have seen enough of these
Ashantis to last me for a long time. A more fierce and cruel lot of
beggars I never saw before, and you don't catch me waiting to fight with
an army. We might burst a steam-pipe or break a connecting-rod and then
where should we be? Look at that beggar lying over the boiler, and
think whether you would like to become a prisoner."

"No, tanks, massa," grinned Johnnie, casting his eye at the native.
"But s'pose we move 'um. Him berry fine feller, but though him dead him
not like de heat. Golly! Make 'um hop to put de finger dere, on de
biler. Him cook nicely if we leab um."

Things had occurred so rapidly that neither had given a thought to this
matter before, but now that they had killed the most dangerous of their
enemies, and the battle with the army of Ashanti had developed into a
chase between a steam launch, with ample power, and a fleet of unwieldy
boats, they had time to look about them, and to observe their own
condition. As the stoker had said, the native who had fallen to Dick's
revolver-shot lay across the boiler, and it was more than hot there, for
out in this tropical country there was no great need for lagging (a
covering of asbestos and wood, often held in position by sheet iron, and
commonly applied to boilers in this country to help to retain their
heat, and so make steaming easier), and this launch boiler was exposed
to the air and weather. In consequence, the unhappy wretch who had
fallen was literally cooking, and Dick was thankful when his dusky
companion caught the body by one arm, and dragging it to the side hove
it overboard. Johnnie had little sentiment. An enemy was an enemy,
whether dead or alive, and he made no secret of his delight that here
was another native who had fallen to their weapons.

"Good-bye yo," he shouted, as the body splashed into the river and sank
from sight. "Yo foolish man come aboard dis vessel. Not hab invite to
do so, and not wanted, not't all. So jest yo go' 'way 'gain. Yo hab
self to tank for all dis trouble."

He turned to