For there was a desperate fight going on at the piece of wreck; three men, knife in hand, were trying to get upon the floating wood, and those upon it stabbing at them to keep them off. But, in their despair, the swimmers made a dash together, regardless of the blows, climbed on, and a terrible struggle began. "Starn all!" roared Mr Grey; and the boat's progress was checked. We were backed away just in time, for the pirates were all now on one side of the piece of wreck, thinking of nothing but destroying each other's lives, and heaped together in what looked like a knot, when the side they were on slowly sank, the far portion rose up and completely turned over upon them, forcing them beneath the water, which eddied and boiled as the struggle still went on below the surface. "Give way, my lads," said the officer sternly; "let's try and save some of the others." "Ay, ay," cried the man who had shouted before. "These here arn't worth saving." The boat swept round in a curve, and we pulled off for another group, kneeling and crouching upon what seemed to be a yard and a mass of matting-sail. Mr Grey stood up. "Now, my lads," he shouted, "surrender." For answer they bared their knives and defied us to come on, yelling and striking at us with them. Mr Grey looked round at me half-laughingly. "Cheerful sort of prisoners to make. If we go close in, some of us will get knifed." "You can't go close," I said. "If I don't they'll drown," he cried; "and the captain will ask me what I've been about." "Hadn't you better let the jollies put 'em out of their misery, Mr Grey, sir?" cried one of the men. "They arn't fit to live." "No," cried another fiercely. "They arn't men; they're tigers." "Silence!" said the officer sternly. "There is a man yonder about to sink; give way," he cried. This man had left a barrel, to which he had vainly tried to cling, but it kept on turning round; and at last, in his despair, he had left it to try and swim to the nearest rocks. His strength was failing, though, and he began to paddle like a dog, too much frightened to try and swim. A few strokes of the oar took us within reach, and this time the coxswain succeeded in hooking his loose cotton jacket, and drawing him to the side. Hands seized him directly, and he was hauled in to lie down trembling, and looking wildly from one to the other. "Come; he's a quiet one," said the coxswain. "Mind, sir!" "Mind! look out!" roared the boatswain. But he was too late. One moment the Chinaman crouched, limp and helpless, in the bottom of the boat forward, with his hands hidden in his wet sleeves, the next he had made a frog-like leap at the coxswain, driven a sharp knife in the muscles of his back, and leaped overboard. Not into safety, though; for one of the men stood ready, and, as the wretch rose, brought down the blade of his oar with a tremendous chop across the head, and the pirate went down to rise no more.