lub, bounded into their midst.
`Onward!' cried he, `it is our only hope of escape.' His movements were
light as those of a bird, and rapid as lightning. His first blow
stretched the priest at his feet. The savages gave way before him,
scattering to the right and left, as if a thunderbolt had fallen among
them. Barton discharged both his pistols at once, and with fatal
effect, as was witnessed by the groans that followed. Before they could
rally or recover themselves, we had burst through their midst. As we
reached the shore, I looked round and missed Barton--he was no longer
beside me. An exulting cry behind us at once explained his absence: at
the same time we could hear him call out in a voice broken by
exhaustion, `Save yourselves, you can do nothing for me!' Without an
instant's hesitation, Rokoa turned, and we rushed back into the midst of
our shouting enemies. Three or four of the party which had been in
pursuit of us, were just coming up. The audacity and desperation of our
attack seemed to confound them, and two of their number fell, almost
without a struggle, beneath Rokoa's rapid and resistless blows. Two
more of them, who were dragging Barton away, were compelled to leave him
at liberty in order to defend themselves. At that moment a sudden shout
from the water raised by our crew, who had either heard our voices, or
seen us when we came out upon the shore, increased their panic by
causing them to suppose that we were leading back our whole party to the
fight. They hastily gave way before us, and we had all turned once
more, and gained the beach before they recovered from their surprise,
and perceived their mistake.

"Our boat was just outside the surf; where the crew were keeping her
steady with their paddles. We hailed them, and plunged in the water to
swim out to them. The natives, stung with shame and rage at having
their prisoner torn from them in the very moment of triumph, with such
reckless boldness, swarmed down to the beach and pursued us into the
water. They seemed excited almost to frenzy at the prospect of our
escape. Some standing upon the shore assailed the canoe with showers of
stones, by which several of our men were wounded. Others swam out after
us, as if about to endeavour to board the vessel, and did not turn back
until we had hoisted our sail, and began to draw steadily from the land.

"And thus ends the story of the Cannibal Island of Angatan."

"Is that all?" inquire