Jack, at the steering-oar, sailed her a "clean full," whilst the rest of the castaways baled furiously.
All of a sudden a puff of white smoke flew away from the side of the schooner, and the faint report of a gun reached them.
"A snot from his twelve-pounder amidships," said Jack calmly.
The ball screamed past overhead, and plumped into the sea a long way off to windward.
"It'll be wild shooting in this jump of a sea," observed Bill.
"Shall I bring my pop-gun into action?" drawled Broncho almost indifferently, as he fingered his Winchester.
"Yes, let him have it; he's not going to drop lead over us without getting some back," returned the rover fiercely.
"Jump it into him, Broncho," cried the bluejacket eagerly.
"That I shorely will without any ondue delays," replied the cowpuncher, and taking a rapid sight he fired.