th ball, and these
buckshot scatter so. I don't want to hurt any of our own chaps if I can
help it."

"And they're too far off from us as yet," said Brace excitedly.

"Well, they'll soon shorten the distance," growled the captain; and then
he clapped his hand to the side of his mouth and yelled to his
mutineers: "Now, run, you lubbers! Don't go to sleep. Run as if you
meant it."

_Taang_!

"Bah! he's got it," cried the captain.

There was the dull half-musical sound of a bowstring, and to Brace's
horror one of their flying men made a spasmodic jump into the air and
came down upon hands and knees, his nearest messmates passing on some
twenty yards before they could check their speed; and then, in the midst
of the thrill of excitement which ran through the occupants of the
boats, the retreating party paused, and dashed back to help their fallen
mate.

An involuntary cheer of encouragement rang out from those in the boats.

"Good boys--good boys!" yelled the captain. "That's true British,
Briscoe. There, I forgive 'em all for that. Oh, if they only had
something in their fists they'd drive the beggars back to the woods.
Pick him up, boys, a leg or a wing apiece, and run again. Oh, Lor' a'
mercy, gentlemen, can't one of you shoot?"

For in those exciting moments the Indians, who had come bounding forward
with a triumphant yell on seeing the white man fall, hesitated and
stopped in fear and surprise when they saw that their flying enemies had
halted and dashed back to rescue their messmate.

This, however, was only a momentary pause, for, recovering themselves,
they yelled again and rushed forward.

It was the opportunity wanted, and almost together three guns flashed
out their contents, sending a little storm of buckshot amongst the
runners, who turned on the instant and began to retreat towards the
woods.

"Missed!" cried the captain.

"Hit!" cried Briscoe.

"No: there's not a man gone down," cried the captain.

"But plenty of hits," said Briscoe, setting the example of reloading.
"Look at them rubbing their coppery hides. The shots wouldn't penetrate
at this distance."

"Never mind: it's stopped them, anyhow," growled the captain. "Bravo!
Good boys!" he cried, as he saw his mutinous lads carefully raise their
companion, while two of the party armed themselves with big pieces of
stone and formed themselves into a rearguard, backing slowly, their
faces to the hesitating enemy.

"Bravo!" conti