As to their direction, that they could not tell, but the shape of the creek they believed to be that of a bow--at least so the Malays had described it; and as the two ends of the bow must rest upon the river, they were sure, unless they struck up some narrow tortuous way, to come out at the other mouth and join the boats. They went on very cautiously, with the midshipman anxious to talk to Tom Long, who sat beside him, but forbidden now to utter so much as a whisper. The oars dipped and rose, dipped and rose, without a sound, and sometimes a reed or water plant rustled slightly as it brushed the sides of the boats. That in which the lieutenant was in command led the weird procession, Captain Smithers being in the next, while the third, nearly full of marines, every man with his loaded rifle between his knees, was close behind. Still there was no sign of the prahus, and to the lieutenant's great annoyance, he found that in the darkness they must have turned up the sluggish stream that flowed into the creek, and missed the continuation, which was probably masked with reeds. He felt ready to stamp with vexation, but controlling himself he passed the word, and the boats backed down the stream, that in which the officer in command was seated, naturally being the last of the three. "Wouldn't it have been better to have brought the Malays, sir?" said Bob. "Yes, of course; but the cowards were afraid to come, my good lad," said the lieutenant. "There, sir," whispered Bob again, "isn't that firing?" "If you say another word to me about your confounded firing," said the lieutenant sharply, "I'll have you gagged, sir." "I don't want to talk about it, sir," grumbled Bob, "but I'm sure there's something wrong up yonder." "And I'm sure there's something wrong here, Mr Roberts," said the lieutenant, "and that's enough for me to attend to." They went back in silence for some time, and then Tom Long, whose eyes were unusually good, pointed to a part of the reed-bed on the right. "Is not that the continuation of the creek, sir?" "Yes, to be sure, so it is," said the lieutenant. "We can see it coming this way. It's masked by those trees the other way. Steady, my lads; steady. Let us go first." The creek was wider here, so the boats turned, and retook their former positions; but still there was no sign of the prahus. "Those scoundrels must have led us wrong," muttered the lieutenant; "there's nothing here. Why, yonder's the open river, isn't it; or is it a wider space? Yes, thank goodness; there are the prahus after all." He waited till the other boats closed up, and then whispered his final orders, appointing two boats to attack one of the prahus while he made for the other alone. "Now then," he whispered, "are you all ready? A bold dash, my lads, and they are ours." "Please, sir," said old Dick. "What is it?" cried the lieutenant, angrily. "Them's our own two boats. I'd swear to 'em."