ck!"

"Harry," cried my uncle, "you shall not act in that mad fashion. You
have escaped with life, and now you would throw it away."

"Is it not mine to cast away if I like?" I said bitterly.

"No," he said in a low tone, as he bent forward and whispered something
in my ear.

"Say no more, Uncle--pray say no more," I groaned. "Indeed, I believe
that I am half mad. I would almost sooner have died myself than that
this should have happened. How can I ever face those at home?"

"Harry, my lad," said my uncle, "take up your paddle, and use it. You
are thinking of the future--duty says that you must think now of the
present. We have two lives to save; and, until we have them in one of
the settled towns, our work is not done."

I took up my paddle in silence, and plunged the blade in the stream, and
we went on, swiftly and silently, along reach after reach of the river.

Many hours passed without an alarm, and then, just as we were passing
into another and a wider river, there came from the jungly edge of the
left bank a puff of smoke, and a bullet struck the canoe.

"To the right," whispered my uncle softly; "we shall soon be out of
that."

The paddles being swiftly plied, we made for the opposite bank, striving
hard to place those we had with us out of reach of harm. But with
bullets flying after us our efforts seemed very slow, and the raft was
struck twice, and the water splashed over us several times, before I
felt a sharp blow on my shoulder--one which half numbed me--while a
bullet fell down into the bottom of the canoe.

"Spent shot, Harry," said my uncle, striking on alternate sides with his
paddle, for I was helpless for the next quarter of an hour. "There will
be no wound, only a little pain."

The skin-raft held together well--light and buoyant--so that our
progress down stream was swift, but apparently endless, day after day,
till our provisions were quite exhausted, and our guns had to be called
into requisition to supply us with food.

We were suffering too much to appreciate the wonders of the region
through which we were passing; but I have since then often recalled it
here at home in the quiet safety of my chair by my fireside, wondering
often too how it was that we managed ever to get down to a civilised
town in safety.

There was, of course, always the consciousness of knowing that, if we
kept afloat, sooner or later we must reach the sea; but what an
interminable way it was! At o