"To the naga—to the naga!" shouted Beecher, who saw his man in the act of reaching the bows of the light boat, and as an arm rose above the water there was the flash of a knife-blade in the sunshine, and the boat was free and being urged with the stream towards the shore.
The girls dashed along the bank, fully grasping the fact that escape lay in that direction, and it was time, for a yell of suppressed rage now arose, as the Malays recovered from their panic, spears were levelled, krises flashed in the light, and they commenced their attack.
"The girls dashed along the bank."
But their movements were slow and stealthy like those of the tiger preparing to spring, for three Englishmen faced them, each with deadly weapons ready to flash out destruction, as they backed in the direction of their boat.
"Don't fire, boys; don't fire," growled Hollins. "Give the girls time to get on board. Look back, Joe, has Jerry got it ashore?"
"Pretty close, sir," said the man shortly. "Hooroar! One of the girls has jumped in. Yes, there goes the other. Won't leave us in the lurch, will they?—No. Hooroar again! they've took to the oars and are holding her in. Jerry's getting ashore again, legs and all, sir—not touched."
"Here you are, gents," came in that individual's familiar accents. "Let 'm have it hot, and make a run for it."
"No!" roared Hollins. "Keep your formation till we're abreast; then retire singly. You first, Joe."
There was a bristling hedge of spear-points approaching, and a snarling roar of voices rose, while suddenly a spear was thrown from the first prahu, but only to fall short of the retreating party, yards away upon the bank. Still that was the signal for a shower.