"Swim away, my lad," cried old Dick, hoarsely, "and get ashore, I'm only an old 'un, and I'll get a grip of his spiker if I can." "No, no, Dick, keep with me," panted Bob, who saw in Dick's words a determination on the brave old fellow's part to sacrifice his life that he might live. "No, my lad, it's no use. Swim on," cried Dick, "they're here. Tell the skipper I did my dooty like a man." As he bravely shouted these words in his excitement, he turned to face his enemies, the Malay with the limbing thrusting savagely at him. But Dick was quick enough to strike the limbing aside, and grasp it with both hands, when a struggle for its possession took place. It was a futile effort, though, upon Dick's part, for the other Malay dropped his oar, and picking up another spear, came to his comrade's help. Bob was paralysed, and the desire was upon him to shut his eyes, and escape seeing the death of the brave old sailor, who was giving his life to save his young officer; but in place of closing his eyes, the middy felt that he was forced to hold them open, and fixed them upon the terrible scene; and his lips parted to utter a cry of warning, when, just as the third Malay was about to deliver his thrust, to avert which Dick was powerless, there was a sharp whizzing noise through the air, accompanied by a loud report, and then another whizzing, and a second report. Bob turned his head to see the smoke rising from above a good-sized naga, or dragon-boat, coming up the stream, and at the sight thereof the Malays seized their oars, gave the sampan a sharp impulse which brought them within reach of their comrade, and after helping him on board, they rowed off with all their might, with the dragon-boat coming up fast. But the naga had to stop and pick up the middy and Dick who had swum, as soon as they were free from enemies, towards the dinghy, which they reached as the dragon-boat came up. "Are you hurt?" said a voice in English, and a delicate hand was stretched down from the naga's side to help Bob in, where, as he sank down panting, he recognised Ali, the young Malay chief. "No: only half-drowned. But Dick--save Dick." "I'm all right, Mr Roberts, sir," said the old sailor, hoarsely; "and the dinghy's made fast astern." "But are you speared, Dick?" said the middy. "Not as I knows on, sir. I ain't felt nothing at present, but I don't say as I ain't got a hole in me somewheres." "They'll get away," said Ali, just then, as he stood up with a double gun in his hand. "Only small shot," he said, tapping the stock. "I have no bullets." As he spoke he clapped the piece to his shoulder and fired twice rapidly, as the Malays in the sampan seemed to dive through a screen of reeds into some creek beyond. The pattering hail of straggling small shot hastened their movements, and then Bob proceeded to thank the young chief for saving their lives, explaining to him, as far as he knew, how it was that they had fallen into such a plight.