veral minutes, and now the man we were after was again out of hearing.
"He is going to get away if he can," muttered Oliver, as, after ridding himself of as much water as possible, he sat down in the bow of the boat. "I wonder what that native will do if I fire a warning shot over their heads."
"Try the shot and see," I answered.
Oliver brought out his new weapon, threw his wet cartridges into the river, and reloaded with cartridges from Dan's stock. Then he aimed the pistol into the air and pulled the trigger.
Crack! came the report, loud and clear, and the smoke rolled up into the trees beside the river bank. The echo had not yet died away when we saw the Kanaka drop his paddle and leap into the river as if some demon was after him.
"He's scared pretty badly," laughed Oliver. "He's swimming for shore just as hard as he can." He paused a second. "By George, old Delverez is trying to do a little paddling on his own account."
"Well, we ought to be able to catch him now," I returned, when crack! came another report, and a bullet whistled over our heads. As none of us wanted to be shot we dropped in a heap in the bottom of the rowboat, and Dan and I each lost an oar, two blades which we did not succeed in recovering.
