startled to move, and, muttering angrily,
the man sprang up, not--as Don expected--to let drive with a spear at
his companion, but attributing his fall to some stone, or the trunk of a
tree, he ran on after his companions. Then Ngati rose, uttered a few
words, whose import they grasped, and once more they hurried on straight
for the river.

It was their only chance of escape, unless they made for the sea, and
chanced finding a small canoe on the sands.

But that was evidently not Ngati's intention. Over the river seemed to
be the only way not likely to be watched; and, going straight for it, he
only paused again close to its brink, listening to the shouting going on
but a very short distance from where they stood.

While Don listened, it sounded to him as if the Maoris were literally
hunting them down, the men spreading out like a pack of dogs, and
covering every inch of ground so closely that, unless they escaped from
where they were, capture was absolutely certain.

As they stood panting there, Ngati caught Don's hand, and tightened it
round the spear, following this up by the same action with Jem.

"He means we are to hold tight, Jem."

"Is he going to take us across this tumbling river, Mas' Don?"

"It seems so."

"Then I shall hold tight."

Before them they could faintly make out the foaming water, and though
the distance was not above twenty or thirty yards, the water ran roaring
over great stones in so fierce a torrent, that Don felt his heart sink,
and shrank from the venture.

But on the other side of the torrent was freedom from a death so
horrible that the boy shuddered at the thought, and without hesitation
he tightened his hold on the spear, and followed the great Maori as he
stepped boldly into the rushing stream.

It was a new sensation to Don as he moved on with the water over his
waist, and pressing so hard against him, that but for the support of the
spear-shaft, he must have been swept away. Sturdy even as Jem was, he,
too, had a terribly hard task to keep his footing; for his short, broad
figure offered a great deal of surface to the swift current, while the
rugged stony bed of the river varied in depth at every step.

They had a tower of strength, though, in Ngati, who, in spite of the
wounds he had received, seemed as vigorous as ever; and though Don twice
lost his footing, he clung tightly to the spear, and soon fought his way
back to a perpendicular position.

But even towers