The noisy ruffian came swaggering forward, and the sailors breathed hard for a moment. Surely their favourite officer would never stand that sort of talk. Yet it was no time for words; these men were harmless, compared to the other blackguards who were trying to burn the Indians' wigwams and huts over their heads. The lieutenant sheathed his sword and took a half-step forward, at the same time clenching his left fist; then let drive, straight at the digger's chin. The fellow went down like a sack of flour, apparently stunned, for he made no attempt to get up again. But immediately several revolver-barrels flashed in the fire-light and three shots were fired; a burning pain in his left arm told Mayne that he was wounded, but the other shots went wide. He stepped from in front of his men. "Open order!--Out of the way, you red men.--_Present!_" The rifles flew to the sailors' shoulders like magic. There was no time to be lost now; only thirty yards away, Indians were murdering and being murdered, and the shrieks of the women made the young fellow's blood run cold. Yet he dared not place his few men between two forces of desperate maniacs. The rioters had again ceased their gabble. "Hands up, every one of you." The lieutenant waited for a few seconds. "Make up your minds; you'll not get another warning." However mad the diggers might be, it began to dawn on them that they could not hold their own for three minutes against men who regarded fighting as part of their day's work. Still they hesitated, for the more curious or less pressed of the other body were leaving the huts and coming over to them. They looked from these to the sailors, in whose faces there was no sign of wavering; already the officer's lips seemed to be framing the word "Fire!" Then they could bear the tension no longer. Some in ill-tempered silence, the rest whimpering for mercy, threw up both hands. "Dr. Campbell; take charge here till all arms are collected; then join me.--Rear rank; 'tion! Left turn. Trail arms. Double!" But when Mayne and his eight men reached the wigwams, it was plain enough that it would be the Indians who would give the trouble. They had at last discovered that the white warriors were with them, and now, though their disheartened assailants were already ceasing to fight, other than on the defensive, and were retiring as fast as they could get clear of the crush, they began to strike with double fury, shrieking their war-whoops, hacking and stabbing wherever they could. Mayne gave a command, and every sailor slung his rifle and drew his cutlass. "Now separate them, lads."