"We must run for it!" yelled Bob. "Come on--for the ship!"

"Give them a volley first!" shouted the captain.

Six shots, poured into the advancing troop, threw them into confusion.

As the treasure-seekers turned to run a spear glanced over our hero's shoulder and stuck quivering in the ground a dozen yards beyond.

At the top of their speed they rushed toward the sh.o.r.e.

At first they fancied they were not pursued.

After going a hundred yards, however, a wild yell and the patter of feet told them they would have to do their best.

Enc.u.mbered as they were, with both the lads partly disabled and the captain no speedy runner, the savages soon gained on them.

"We must give them another volley!" panted the captain.

Though the guns chosen were breech-loaders, it took some little time to reload them whilst at a run.

Suddenly Bob felt a shock, which nearly made him fall.

However, he recovered himself with a stagger.

"The sack saved you," gasped Captain Sumner. "But for that the spear would have pierced your back. Now wheel round and fire!"

As they fronted the natives they found that not thirty yards divided them.

At that short range every bullet told.

Three men fell dead, and as many were wounded.

The captain gave them a couple of shots from his revolver before he once more turned and ran for his life.

"That accounts for about half them," exclaimed our hero.

As they gained the head of the beach Jack stopped short.

"Go on!" he gasped. "My side! I am stuck!"

Bob put his arm through that of his friend, who had dropped his gun, and dragged him onward.

The captain turned and fired the remaining chambers of his revolver among the crowd, now within a score of yards.

The small boat was in waiting, and into it they tumbled, amid a storm of spears.

Both the captain and Bok, who rowed, were stuck.

Our hero seized the oars from the hands of the latter and pulled with all his strength for the yacht.

The gunwale of the little boat was almost level with the water.

It was slow work.

Luckily, nearly all the enemies' spears were exhausted.

An arrow pierced Bob's cap, and the last spear which was thrown again wounded the captain, piercing his leg.

Fortunately the distance was so far that it only entered about an inch and fell out from its own weight.

Our hero and the captain clambered on board the schooner.

Jack was exhausted, but still clung to his bag of silver.

Scarcely had they gained the deck when a yell broke from the dark waters around them, and spears and arrows fell on all sides.

Every gun on board was now fired at the savages.

Yet they came on as if determined to kill every white person in sight.

Chapter XV.--Bob Rescues His Father--Conclusion.

The savages were pressing close upon the _Dart_. Something must be done.

"Slip the cable!" shouted the captain. "Up with the jib, topgallant sails, and gaff!"

"We must trust to weathering the point," he added to the mate. "If we do, we are safe. The current will carry us to sea."

His orders were executed.

The wind fortunately blew from the southward, and, filling the light sails, carried the _Dart_ off the sh.o.r.e.

The yacht's head paid off, and, answering her helm, she, with the tide in her favor, bore seaward.

A few parting shots, and the _Dart_, now feeling the full force of the wind, left the fleet of canoes far behind.

The next few hours were employed in the dressing of wounds and making things a little ship-shape.

It had been a hard-fought fight, and everyone was tired out.

Fortunately, neither Mrs. Cromwell nor Viola had suffered from the attack.

Long before the crew were able to do anything more darkness set in.

Bob was very impatient to trace up his father, but just now that was impossible.