Not a sound! Not a light! Perhaps they had missed their
way! Perhaps the Indians on the main island are still friendly!
Shevyrin or Korelin utters a shout, followed by the signal of a musket
shot for that second party of hunters to come out and help. Scarcely
had the crash died over the snows, when out of the dark leaped a
hundred lances, a hundred faces, a hundred shrieking, bloodthirsty
savages. Now they realize the mistake of having landed, of having
abandoned the skin boat back on the beach there! But no time to
retrace steps! Only a wild dash through the dark, catching by each
other to keep together, up to a high precipitous rock they know is
somewhere here, with the sea behind, sheer drop on each side, and but
one narrow approach! Here they make their stand, muskets and sword in
hand, beating the assailants back, wherever a stealthy form comes
climbing up the rock to hurl spear or lance! Presently, a
well-directed fusillade drives the savages off! While night still hid
{95} them, the four fugitives scrambled down the side of the rock
farthest from the savages, and ran for the roadstead where the ship had
anchored.
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