"Look out, my lads! Seize those sweeps," said the lieutenant, as several long oars were now thrust out beneath the bamboo screen, and the Malays stabbed at the boat with them, trying to drive a hole through her bottom. Several of the sailors seized the long oars on the instant, and hung on, while some of their messmates tried to fire through the holes, with the result that long spears were now thrust through, and desperate stabs made at the attacking party. It was a wretched desultory fight, and the lieutenant was almost at his wits' end, for his spirit forbade his giving up, and all the time, no matter how bravely his men tried, they could not get on board the prahu. Just then it was observed by the men who held on by the sweeps, that a brass lelah was being thrust through a hole, and brought to bear upon them, when the result would have been death to several, and the sinking of the boat, if it was fired. The danger was, however, averted by old Dick, who seized a boat-hook, and hitching it on the prahu's side, gave so sturdy a haul that he drew the boat some six feet along, and closer alongside. He was just in time, for as the boat grated against the prahu there was a sharp ringing report, and the water was thrown up close astern. A sharp volley from the boat replied to this, probably with as good results; and then thrusting with spear and bayonet went on in the darkness. "Confound it all, my lads! we must get aboard her somehow," cried the lieutenant, stamping his foot with rage, as he stood up in the boat. "Here, make ready some of you, and follow me. Dick Dunnage, you keep her fast with the boat-hook." As he spoke the lieutenant parried a thrust with his sword, and replied to it with a shot from his revolver, letting both weapons then hang from his wrists by sword-knot and lanyard as, seizing one of the sweeps, he began to clamber up, followed by a dozen of the men. There was a confused roar of shouts, yells, and cheers mingled, as those left in the boat ceased firing, so as not to injure the boarding party, who made a desperate effort now to climb over the bamboo screen, little thinking that the missing midshipman had boldly climbed up, a little ahead of where they were, mounted to the great bamboo spar that held up the screen, and then with a miserably ineffective weapon, to wit, his pocket-knife, set to work as he sat astride it, and sawn away at the rattans that held it up.