the bow. The bow was used only on occasions and at long distances. When they came down to resist the landing of Rantan, they had come armed with spears; driven to the shelter of the trees, Aioma, the artful one, had remembered the bows stowed in one of the canoe houses. It was years since the arrows had been poisoned, but the poison of argora never dies, nor does it weaken with time.
In four swings of a pendulum the arrows had done their work, and four upstanding men lay stretched on the beach, motionless, for this terrible poison striking at the nerve centres kills in two beats of the pulse.
Rantan and Carlin, close enough to see the flight of the arrows, put wildly out, tugging at the heavy oars and rowing for their lives; a few hundred yards off shore they paused, rested on their oars and took counsel.
It was a bad business.
Armed with rifles and with easy range they had only managed to bag one of the enemy, whereas...!
“Hell,” said Carlin.
The sweat was running down his broad face. Rantan, brooding, said nothing for a moment. Then suddenly he broke silence.
“We’ve dished their canoes, they can’t come out and attack us; we’ve got the range over them, those arrows are no use at any distance; they live mostly on fish, those chaps, and they can’t come out and fish, having no canoes, and we aren’t hurried for time.” He seemed talking to himself, adding up accounts,
