helplessly amid the storm of rifle
bullets.

As the cannon flashed out and the grape swept the boats Bathurst, with
a sharp cry, sprang to his feet, and leaped overboard, as did several
others from both boats. Diving, he kept under water for some distance,
and then swam desperately till he reached shallow water on the other
side of the river, and then fell head foremost on the sand. Eight or
ten others also gained the shore in a body, and were running towards the
bank, when the guns were again fired, and all but three were swept away
by the iron hail. A few straggling musket shots were fired, then orders
were shouted, and the splashing of an oar was heard, as one of the
native boatmen rowed one of the two boats toward the shore. Bathurst
rose to his feet and ran, stumbling like a drunken man, towards the
bushes, and just as he reached them, fell heavily forward, and lay there
insensible. Three men came out from the jungle and dragged him in. As
they did so loud screams arose from the other bank, then half a dozen
muskets were fired, and all was quiet.

It was not for a quarter of an hour that Bathurst was conscious of what
was going on around him. Someone was rubbing his chest and hands.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"Oh, it is you, Bathurst!" he heard Wilson's voice exclaim. "I thought
it was you, but it is so dark now we are off that white sand that I
could not see. Where are you hit?"

"I don't know," Bathurst said. "I felt a sort of shock as I got out of
the water, but I don't know that I am hurt at all."

"Oh, you must be hit somewhere. Try and move your arms and legs."

Bathurst moved.

"No, I don't think I am hit; if I am, it is on the head. I feel
something warm round the back of my neck."

"By Jove, yes!" Wilson said; "here is where it is; there is a cut all
along the top of your head; the bullet seems to have hit you at the
back, and gone right along over the top. It can't have gone in, or else
you would not be able to talk."

"Help me up," Bathurst said, and he was soon on his feet. He felt giddy
and confused. "Who have you with you?" he asked.

"Two natives. I think one is the young chief, and the other is one of
his followers."

Bathurst spoke to them in their native language, and found that Wilson
was not mistaken. As soon as he found that he was understood, the young
chief poured out a volley of curses upon those who had attacked them.

Bathurst stopped him. "We shall have time for that afterwa