A couple more shots were heard, and then all was silent till the boat slowly drifted by the lights of the island, answering the sentries' challenges, and then sighting the lights and open portholes of the steamer, to whose side they managed to struggle, answering the challenges as they approached. In spite of all their efforts, it was doubtful whether the boat could have floated another minute, but on reaching the side the falls were hooked on, and she was slowly run up to the davits, with the water rushing out, the lieutenant then reporting his ill-success to the captain. "Not one man killed, though," he said. "How many wounded?" "Six, sir, but only slightly." "Mr Johnson, I hope the other boats have done better," said the captain. "I'm afraid you will not get any promotion on the strength of this job." "No, sir," said the lieutenant dolefully. "But did you sink either of the prahus?" "Sink them, no," said the captain, testily. "I don't believe they were either of them touched; they went by us like the wind. There, go below all of you, and get into dry clothes." The captain went forward to see that the look-out was doing its best; while the prahus were safely making their way to a mud creek, where the chiefs who commanded them felt that they could laugh at any force the English might send to redeem the failure of the past night; and to work such mischief in the future as was little imagined at the time. CHAPTER ELEVEN. HOW BOB ROBERTS HAD A LESSON ON COMMON SENSE. The sun rose over the dense forest, turning the river mists into gauzy veils, that floated rapidly away, leaving the rapid stream sparkling in the soft morning breeze. The brightly-coloured parroquets flew shrieking from bank to bank; and in the thick jungle, across from the end of the island, the noisy chattering of a party of monkeys could be heard. But bright as was the scene in all the gorgeous tints of tropic scenery, no one on the isle or in the steamer had a thought for anything but the expedition. At the residency, Rachel Linton and her cousin had watched the starting of the boats in the dim starlight, and they had sat ever since at their window, listening for tidings. The noise of the distant firing had reached them, making their breath come short as they started at each volley. Even by the very faintly-heard pattering of the small arms, broken occasionally by the loud report of boat-gun or lelah, they knew that quite a sharp fight must be raging. Twice over they were visited by the major's wife, for the major could not rest, but kept going to the steamer to consult with Captain Horton, as to whether they had done everything possible to ensure success. Mrs Major Sandars found the two ladies pale and anxious to a degree; and though she refrained from saying so, she shook her head, telling herself that this excess of anxiety was due to something more than the absence of a father and uncle, especially as the resident was not a fighting man.