Aloha!" shouted one, and Oliver waved a parting hand at him.
As we passed along the bamboo huts fringing the shore we watched out eagerly for some sign of Ramon Delverez, but none seemed to come to light until a slight bend of the stream was passed, when Oliver uttered a cry.
"There they go—over to the left, behind those overhanging bushes!"
He pointed with his hand, and we immediately headed the rowboat in that direction. As we drew closer the native canoe shot out into the river again. One brief glance showed me the Kanaka standing up and urging the craft forward with all the power at his command, and a second revealed Ramon Delverez crouching on his knees, trying his best to keep out of sight.
"Stop!" called out Oliver, after the fleeing pair, and shook his fist at the Spaniard.
"You stop!" roared Delverez. "Come closer at your peril!"
"Great Scott! do you think he means to shoot at us?" questioned Dan, and slackened up in such a fashion that one of my oars caught his and went overboard in a twinkle, nearly carrying me with it. The rowboat gave a lurch as I righted myself and grabbed at the oar, and then came a cry from Oliver.
"Don't!" he gasped, and that was all, for a
