steadily across.

"Might get a fish or two for supper easy to-night, sir," said Bostock.
"I've got a line, sir. Shall I try?"

"No, we've done enough to-day," replied the doctor. "Let's be satisfied
with what we've done and the provisions we have on board."

"Right, sir," said Bostock. "There is plenty of pickled fish."

"I feel more like a cup of tea than anything," replied the doctor. "It
was a thirsty climb. Better take out the cartridges from your gun,
Carey."

"Mind taking mine out too, Master Carey?" said Bostock, who was
steering.

"All right," said Carey, following the doctor's example and returning
the little charges to the ammunition bag. "I say, we shall only just
get aboard before dark."

"We ought to have been half-an-hour sooner," observed the doctor, and
five minutes or so later the raft rubbed with a grinding sound against
the side, where it was made fast to a ring bolt by their hanging ladder.

The doctor ascended first to the darkened deck, for the night had fallen
very rapidly during the last few minutes. Carey followed him, and
leaned down before he reached the top of the ladder for the guns, which
he took from Bostock's hands and passed up to the doctor.

The satchels and bucket of treasures they had found followed, and then
Carey finished his ascent to the lofty deck.

"Look sharp, Bob," he said, "and let's have some supper at once."

"Supper it is, sir, in a brace of jiffies," replied the old sailor, as
he stepped on deck, and he was in the act of turning to his left to go
below to the galley, when he stopped short and uttered a warning cry.

"The guns--the guns!" he yelled.

Too late. There was a rush of bare feet on the soft deck, and through
the gloom Carey was just able to make out that they were surrounded by a
party of blacks, each poising a spear ready to throw and holding in his
other hand either a knobkerry or a boomerang.

"Go mumkull white fellow; baal, lie down, quiet, still!"

This was said in a fierce voice by one of the savage-looking fellows,
and Carey mastered the desire to bound away and take refuge below.

"Who are you? What do you want?" cried the doctor.

"Go mumkull white fellow; baal, lie down, quiet, still!"

"Says they're going to kill us all if we don't lie down and be quiet,"
growled the old sailor; then aloud to the blacks, "Here, what do you
want--'bacco--sugar? Give plenty. Black fellow go."

"Want 'bacco, sugar, take white fellow ol