-

"Noo then, ye murdering villains, have ye got your fill? Ye'll ken
better than to be attacking honest folk like us again."

A hearty laugh from below showed that the boy's taunts expressed the
feelings of his shipmates; but when the next instant a bullet whistled
perilously near his head, he realised how he was exposing himself, and
slid down the rigging much faster than he had climbed up. Considering
the heat of the conflict it was remarkable how slightly the defenders
of the _Bonnie Scotland_ had suffered. Three killed, and a dozen
wounded, none of them mortally, made up the list of casualties, and
when these had been given proper attention, and the decks cleaned and
cleared up, the ministers, of whom there were several on board, called
upon all to join with them in giving thanks to Providence for their
deliverance.

And so, with the baffled buccaneers still in sight, they sang
triumphant Psalms, and lifted up fervent praise to Almighty God who had
given them the victory. The women and children, who had been shut in
the cabins during the fight, came out to join in this service of
praise, their pallid faces showing how they had suffered from fear and
anxiety while thus cooped up.

CHAPTER VII.

THE FOUNDING OF THE CITY OF DARIEN.

Whether the buccaneers went off for reinforcements, or simply withdrew
sadder and wiser, if not better, men, cannot be said. They certainly
disappeared before sunset, and no more was ever seen of them. For once
at least the blood-stained Brethren of the Coast had met more than
their match, and been foiled in their villainous work.

Having repaired the damage done to the spars and rigging, the _Bonnie
Scotland_ continued her course, and on the first day of November came
in sight of the long-desired Golden Island--the goal of their hopes,
the end of their weary voyage.

Wonderfully refreshing was the sight to the delighted eyes of the
expedition, sick of the monotonous sea. Clothed with rich green sward,
from which rose lofty trees laden with fruit, and surrounded by still
waters of crystalline purity, this island stood forth like a beautiful
specimen of the vast regions beyond, which it was hoped were some day
to become a province of Scotland.

Donalblane's freckled face glowed with joy. "Eh, but it's bonnie--it's
verra bonnie!" he exclaimed, grasping Mr. Sutherland's arm. "There's
naethin' like that in Scotland."

"No, indeed, Donald," responded Mr. Sutherland,