hore; "for yonder
comes a boat with some of the passengers we were talking of."

"Is that tackle rigged, Welton?" shouted the mate.

"It is, sir," replied Jim.

"Then stand by, some of you, to hoist these leopards aboard."

When the little boat or dinghy came alongside, it was observed that the
animals were confined in a large wooden cage, through the bars of which
they glared savagely at the half-dozen black fellows who conveyed them
away from their native land. They seemed to be uncommonly irate.
Perhaps the injustice done them in thus removing them against their will
had something to do with it. Possibly the motion of the boat had
deranged their systems. Whatever the cause, they glared and growled
tremendously.

"Are you sure that cage is strong enough?" asked the mate, casting a
dubious look over the side.

"Oh yes, massa--plenty strong. Hould a Bengal tiger," said one of the
black fellows, looking up with a grin which displayed a splendid double
row of glittering teeth.

"Very well, get the slings on, Welton, and look sharp, bo's'n, for more
company of the same kind is expected," said the mate.

The bo's'n--a broad, short, burly man, as a boatswain always is and
always ought to be, with, of course, a terrific bass voice, a body
outrageously long, and legs ridiculously short--replied, "Ay, ay, sir,"
and gave some directions to his mates, who stood by the hoisting
tackles.

At the first hoist the appearance of the cage justified the mate's
suspicions, for the slings bent it in so much that some of the bars
dropped out.

"Avast heaving," roared the boatswain. "Lower!" Down went the cage
into the dinghy. The bars were promptly replaced, and the slings
fastened in better position.

"Try it again, bo's'n," said the mate.

The order to hoist was repeated, and up went the cage a second time, but
it bent as before, so that several bars again slipped out, leaving the
leopards sufficient space to jump through if they chose.

"Lower!" yelled the mate.

The men obeyed promptly--rather too promptly! The cage went down by the
run into the boat, and with a crash fell asunder.

"Cut the rope!" cried the mate.

Jim Welton jumped into the chains, cut the painter, and the boat was
swept away by the tide, which was running strong past the ship. At the
same moment the black fellows went over the sides into the water like
six black eels radiating from a centre, and away went the dinghy with
the leopards in