rsting
through a cane brake, cringing with the pain of a sharp stab between his
shoulders, found himself momentarily alongside one of the sailors of his
own ship; and, daring even further visitation of the knife, he let fly
the canes with a rattling crash into his guard's face and whispered
fiercely to the seaman:

"Run! Tell Mr. Rolfe!"

His guard burst through, swearing vilely, and rewarded the temerarious
typewriter expert with a twisting prod that kept him gasping for the
rest of the journey, now nearing its end. But Little was satisfied. When
at length they broke through a mat of bush and came out into an open
glade dotted with great, bare, brown humps, his pained eyes twinkled at
Barry with some of his old cheery spirit and, speechless though they
were under coercion, imparted hope to the skipper.

They were given little time to wonder what their fate was to be.
Presuming they had been carried to this place for a midday halt, and
that their journey would soon be resumed, Barry and Little flung
themselves down to rest and maintained a careless attitude in the face
of their captors. But this attitude was swiftly dispelled for, idly
staring at the sailors, barely wondering at what they saw, they suddenly
awoke to a fear that turned them cold.

"Look!" muttered Barry hoarsely. Little needed no such reminder.

One by one the _Barang's_ seamen were taken to trees and fastened
securely by tough vines. No distinction was made between seamen and the
men from the post, since neither wore uniforms but were simply dressed
in flimsy cotton pants and shirt. In a wide circle they were placed, and
gradually it dawned upon Barry that he and Little were in the center of
the circle.

Now the leader of the naval crew called his fellows, and they approached
their white prisoners with ropes--vegetable vines. And with the leer of
a devil, the officer leaned down and flung Barry over on his face.

Swiftly both captives were secured, and with no tyro hands. Then they
were dragged apart a bit, and each lifted and carried by head and feet
until they were fairly over two of those bare, brown humps of earth.
Here they were dropped, and a heavy stake at head and foot, driven into
the ground, made tethering posts for their bonds.

"My God! Ants!" gasped Barry, struggling madly. A laugh above him
chilled his blood, and a drawling voice replied: "Yes, my brave gold
washer. Ants. A fit amusement for such as you."

Barry twisted his purp