It seemed an age before he fired. The bullet missed the side of the boat
by about three inches, and I shrieked my defiance. The devil had my
nerves on edge, but the green tongue of land was close, and I pulled as
never man pulled before.
A bullet lodged in the stern of the boat, another splintered the end of
an oar, and then the rifleman's nerves must have got the better of him.
The succeeding shots fell wide, and I whooped like a madman as I drove
the boat on to the green tongue of land. Springing out hastily I made a
dash across the white strip of sand, and dived into the moist creeper
growth.
I lay there panting, watching the yacht to see what Newmarch would do.
It was impossible for him to leave the yacht to follow me, but I guessed
that he would make an attempt to communicate with Leith. And I guessed
rightly.
I had not been five minutes in the bushes when a boat put off for the
shore. It contained three of the crew, two Tannese and the Fijian that I
had found mourning the death of Toni, his "all same brother who had
worked with him at Suva." They pulled for the spot where I had left the
dory, and here the Fijian sprang out, while the others proceeded to tow
the dory back to _The Waif_.
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