And all the time, both boats still in confusion drifted farther and farther away; but at last the fiery leader of the first gained the day; his fellow gave up, and when the order was given to advance once more in the first boat he supplemented it in the second, and a low deep murmur rose up. "Why, Fitz," whispered Poole, "they have had enough of it. The mongrels won't come on." "Think so?" whispered back Fitz, gazing excitedly over the stern, while Poole's fingers were busy thrusting in fresh cartridges till his revolver chambers were full. "Yes, it's plain enough," cried Poole, for the voices of the officers could be heard angrily threatening and abusing their men; but all in vain. There was the appearance of struggles going on, and in one boat the sun flashed two or three times from the blade of a sword as it was raised in the air and used as a weapon of correction, its owner striking viciously at his mutinous men. "Ah!" ejaculated Fitz. "That's done it. They are more afraid of him than they are of us--of you, I mean. They are coming on again." For the oars were dipping, making the water foam once more, as the crews in both the boats began to pull with all their might. But only half; the others backed water, and directly after the boats' heads had been turned and they were being rowed back as hard as they would go, till they disappeared round the first bend to the tune of a triumphant cheer given in strong chorus by every man upon the _Teal_. Just at that moment Fitz clapped one hand to his cheek, for it felt hot, consequent upon the thought having struck him, that in his excitement he had been cheering too. That burning sensation was the result of a hint from his conscience that such conduct was not creditable to a young officer in the Royal Navy. CHAPTER FORTY TWO. THE CAMEL'S DEMAND. The nets were soon mended and the slack places hauled up taut, while the _Teal's_ crew sauntered about the deck, waiting patiently for the next attack, and compared notes about the slight injuries they had received. Meanwhile the skipper and mate were anxiously on the alert for what might happen next. "I want to know what they mean, Burgess," the lads heard the skipper say. "They'll never put up with such a rebuff as this." "Oh, I don't know," growled Burgess. "The officers wouldn't, of course, but they'll never get those swabs to face us for another bout." "What do you think, then? That they will go back for fresh boats' crews?" "That's somewhere about it, or some stinkpots to heave aboard, or maybe, if they have got one, for a barge or pinnace with a boat's gun." "Possibly," said the skipper, and Poole gave Fitz a nudge with his elbow as if to ask, Did you hear that?--a quite unnecessary performance, for Fitz had drunk in every word.