too late_," murmured Will Osten, and his thoughts leaped back to
England.

"The worst of it is," continued the runaway sailor, "that I have no
chance of gettin' away, for the cruelty of sailors to the natives of
this island has rendered them desperate, and they murder every white man
they can get hold of. Indeed there would have been no chance for you
but for the breaking out of war, and the fact that they are somewhat
short of fightin' men just now. Not long after I landed on the island,
an American whaler sent her boats ashore for water. They quarrelled,
somehow, with the natives, who drove them into their boats with
tremendous hooting and yells and some hard blows, although no blood was
spilt. Well, what did the scoundrels do but pulled aboard their ship,
brought their big guns to bear on the people, and fired on several
villages--killing and wounding a good many of 'em, women and children
among the rest. That's the way these fellows set the natives against
white men. It was all I could do to prevent them from knocking out my
brains after the thing happened."

While Bukawanga was speaking, a great commotion was heard outside.

"They're gettin' ready for action," he said, springing up. "Now, lads,
follow me. I'll get you weapons, and, hark-'ee," he added, with a
somewhat peculiar smile, "I heerd some of 'ee say ye don't want to spill
blood where ye have no quarrel. Well, there's no occasion to do so.
Only act in self-defence, and that'll do well enough; d'ye understand?"

The man gave vent to a short chuckle as he said this, and then, leading
his countrymen from the hut, conducted them towards a temple, near to
which a large band of warriors was busily engaged in making preparations
for the approaching fight.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

A FIGHT, WHICH RESULTS IN A MISTAKE AND A HASTY FLIGHT.

The horrors of war are neither agreeable to write about nor to reflect
upon. However much, therefore, it may disappoint those readers whose
minds delight to wallow in the abominations of human cruelty, we will
refrain from entering into the full particulars of the sanguinary fight
that ensued just after the arrival of Wandering Will and his friends in
the island. It is sufficient to say that many lives were lost. Of
course the loss of life bore no proportion to that which occurs in
civilised warfare. One roar from the throats of our terrific engines of
destruction will sometimes send more souls into eternity in one