th the result of
neither wounding a soul on board nor damaging the ship very materially,
none of the shot penetrating her hull between wind and water, the only
thing we had to fear--at length mustered up courage enough to give up
their rather unremunerative game of "long bowls" and come to close
quarters.

I had got quite accustomed now to the rushing sound of round shot in the
air and the waspish phit phitting of rifle bullets past my head; and I
was filled with a wild excitement that made my heart pant, as I stood on
the poop between Mr Mackay and Tim Rooney.

These two were peppering away at the leading proa and the junks, as they
paddled in hastily towards the ship with their long double-banked
sweeps, anxious to get in close alongside and so to be sheltered by our
hull from the murderous and rapid fire which the wielders of the
Martini-Henrys rained on them.

But every bullet found a billet in some pirate breast sooner or later,
one of the villainous desperadoes falling over his oar here and another
dropping down on the bamboo deck of a junk there; while, occasionally,
some wretch would tumble overboard with a wild yell, in answer to the
ping of the rifle, shot through the heart as dead as a herring, and
going down to his grave amongst the fishes in Neptune's coral caverns
below!

"There's that scoundrel of a fellow in the red sash again," cried Mr
Mackay, when the Malay proa, which still led the van, was only about
half a cable's length off. "There he is, Rooney,--do you see him?"

"Aye, bad cess to the black divil, I say him well enough, sorr,"
returned Tim, carefully putting a fresh cartridge into the chamber of
his weapon. "Begorra, I thought I'd kilt the beggar a dozen toimes
alriddy; but he's got the luck of ould Nick, an' sames to save his skin
somehow or ither. Here goes for him ag'in--take that now, ye ould
thaife!"

"Ping!"

But the pirate captain, as the tall dark man in the stern of the proa
seemed to be, only let fall the long crease which he had held in his
right hand brandishing at us, the bullet from Tim's rifle having broken
his arm, that also dropped powerless by his side.

"You nearly had him there," cried Mr Mackay, now taking a shot. "I
hope I'll have better luck though."

"I hope ye will, sorr," heartily echoed Tim. "I mint to riddle his
carkiss an ownly winged him. The ugly black divil sames to kape a
charmed loife, an' I dare say his ould frind below helps him, the
nayghur