"Yes. Only half-an-hour now. Mr Bartlett thinks we've distanced the canoes." They were soon to learn for certain, as they followed the bright path of light which minute by minute grew clearer, till they could see as it were right up to the anchored yacht. "Shall we hail the captain?" said Jack. He had hardly spoken when he felt a jar run through the boat, and found that the towing-line had been hauled upon till the prow of the second boat touched the stern of the first. "Hist there!" said the mate. "Perfect silence, please. We must creep alongside so as to give warning. There must be no hailing. This is the most dangerous time." "How far are we away?" said the doctor in a whisper. "About five hundred yards." "How is it the oars go so quietly now?" whispered Jack. "Muffled, and the men are just dipping them, so as to keep a fair way on." The next two or three minutes were passed in silence, Jack's boat having once more dropped astern to the full length of the rope. The lad had risen to stand up and watch the line of light extending from them right up to the source of the rays ahead, and from his position he could look right over the foremost boat. "How deceptive it is!" he thought. "One can hardly tell how near we are, and--ah!--" "What is it, boy?" whispered the doctor. For answer Jack pointed right ahead to where something dark could be seen crossing the line of sight. "One of the canoes," said the doctor quickly. "We shall be right aboard her." He crept forward, but Jack forestalled him, and was hauling in the line till they wore close up. "Mr Bartlett--father!" "Yes; what is it?" "You are rowing right into one of the canoes." CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. A SHARP LESSON. The men ceased rowing, and Jack sat with his heart beating painfully, his mind full of memories of accounts he had read concerning encounters with savages, and wounds inflicted by poisoned arrows and spears. As he sat in the intense darkness, watching the brilliant star-like lamp, it all seemed to be dreamlike and impossible that he should be there--he who so short a time before was leading that quiet student life in the study or library at home. But there was the black canoe gliding by the light, and like so many silhouettes the dark, clearly-defined figures of the savages busy paddling. No, it could not be the canoe he had seen first, it must be another, and the next minute he had proof thereof, in this canoe passing across the disk of radiant light, leaving it for a few moments clear, and then another appeared, and he watched the little black silhouettes steadily moving as they paddled, till the long boat had gone by, when another appeared and passed. "Give way!" came in a whisper; then the oars dipped silently, and they began to move onward. "We must make a dash for it, or they will surprise the yacht," whispered the mate. Then he leaned over backward, and the exciting words came--"Astern there. Guns ready and load."