ations and amusements, an
event occurred one day which was as unexpected as it was exceedingly
alarming and very horrible.

Jack and I were sitting, as we were often wont to do, on the rocks at
Spouting Cliff, and Peterkin was wringing the water from his garments,
having recently fallen by accident into the sea--a thing he was
constantly doing--when our attention was suddenly arrested by two
objects which appeared on the horizon.

"What are yon, think you?" I said, addressing Jack.

"I can't imagine," answered he. "I've noticed them for some time, and
fancied they were black sea-gulls; but the more I look at them, the more
I feel convinced they are much larger than gulls."

"They seem to be coming towards us," said I.

"Hallo! what's wrong?" inquired Peterkin, coming up.

"Look there," said Jack.

"Whales!" cried Peterkin, shading his eyes with his hand. "No--eh--can
they be boats, Jack?"

Our hearts beat with excitement at the very thought of seeing human
faces again.

"I think you are about right, Peterkin. But they seem to me to move
strangely for boats," said Jack in a low tone, as if he were talking to
himself.

I noticed that a shade of anxiety crossed Jack's countenance as he gazed
long and intently at the two objects, which were now nearing us fast.
At last he sprang to his feet. "They are canoes, Ralph! whether
war-canoes or not, I cannot tell; but this I know--that all the natives
of the South Sea Islands are fierce cannibals, and they have little
respect for strangers. We must hide if they land here, which I
earnestly hope they will not do."

I was greatly alarmed at Jack's speech; but I confess I thought less of
what he said than of the earnest, anxious manner in which he said it,
and it was with very uncomfortable feelings that Peterkin and I followed
him quickly into the woods.

"How unfortunate," said I as we gained the shelter of the bushes, "that
we have forgotten our arms!"

"It matters not," said Jack; "here are clubs enough and to spare." As
he spoke, he laid his hand on a bundle of stout poles of various sizes,
which Peterkin's ever-busy hands had formed, during our frequent visits
to the cliff, for no other purpose, apparently, than that of having
something to do.

We each selected a stout club according to our several tastes and lay
down behind a rock, whence we could see the canoes approach without
ourselves being seen. At first we made an occasional remark on their
ap