ugh the chiefs shoulder, and the
weapon drops powerless. Howling with rage, he retreats; but it is to
summon his countrymen, who with threatening gestures rush on. Golding
leaps into the boat amid showers of stones cast from the natives'
slings, followed by spears and darts. While some of the men shove off
others fire, and load again and fire. The boat is heavily laden, and
can with difficulty be moved. I fear that my shipmates will be cut off,
and share the fate of Captain Cook, and many others since his day. I
order another boat to be lowered, and cry out for volunteers. No lack
of them. I send down to the captain--there is not a moment to be lost.
I, with eight hands, leap into the boat. Away we pull. The captain
comes on deck and calls us back. He points to a fleet of war-canoes
coming round the point: he fears that we also shall be cut off, and that
the ship, with the loss of half her crew, may fall a prey to the
savages. Still I cannot without an effort see my shipmates destroyed.
We dash on,--the foam flies from our bows. Hinks has got his boat
afloat, but several of his men are wounded; yet they struggle bravely.
We open fire, and keep the savages at bay. The war-canoes, however,
approach,--Hinks' boat gets up to us. It is doubtful whether we or our
enemies will gain the ship first. We pull for our lives. Simon Fuller
will fight his ship to the last. Our shipmates are casting loose the
guns ready for action. The savages in the war-canoes stand up ready to
shower down their darts and stones at us.

"Give them a volley,--give them a volley," shouts Golding.

"It were lost time," I tell my men. "It were better get on board."

We keep ahead of the enemy, and gain the ship's side. The falls are
ready,--we hook on,--the boats are hoisted up, and we hasten to man the
guns. There is a favourable breeze out of the harbour, the anchor is
being hove up, the sails are loosed. The canoes gather round us; the
savages begin to assail us with all their weapons, shouting and
shrieking terribly. The ship gathers way; the savages, grown bold, are
climbing up the sides.

"Depress your guns, lads," says the captain. "Small-arm men, give it
them."

The shot goes crashing in among the canoes, knocking many to pieces.
Not a native clinging to the sides escapes the small-arm men. Again and
again we fire, leaving the natives terrified and amazed at the power of
our arms. Our guns loaded with langrage commi