Which way now? That was the question in the mind of every member of the party. It was Dave who solved the problem. Gazing across the cove, he espied a good-sized rowboat half hidden among some bushes. The boat had been left there by those on the _Raven_ the night before, and in the excitement of the departure had been completely forgotten. "A boat! A boat!" he cried. "Come!" He led the way on a run, with the others close upon his heels. But to circle the cove, which was surrounded with tropical trees, vines, and sharp rocks, was not easy; and before half the distance was covered they heard the cries of the savages. "They are coming closer!" came from Bob. "Perhaps we had better hide again." "Don't ye be afther doin' such a foolish thing," answered Pat Stoodles. "They kin track ye quicker nor an Indian could do th' thrick. Take to the boat--it's safer." On they went, over the rocks and through the tangle of undergrowth. Often one or another would stumble, and scratches and rent clothing were numerous. Closer and closer came the natives. When the latter saw how fresh the trail was they let out a blood-curdling cry of triumph. At last our friends were within a hundred yards of the boat. But now poor Bob was exhausted, for his foot still pained him greatly. "I--I can't run any--any more!" he gasped. "Then we'll carry you," answered Captain Broadbeam, and caught the young engineer up in his arms. At last the rowboat was gained and they were delighted to note that it contained two pairs of stout oars. Into the craft they tumbled as rapidly as possible, and it was Dave who helped Captain Broadbeam to shove off. The movement came none too soon, for scarcely were all but poor Bob seated at the oars than the natives burst into view through the jungle back of the stretch of beach surrounding the cove. "Hi gi! We-ra!" they yelled, and then a shower of arrows was aimed at our friends. One arrow cut through the captain's coat and another buried itself in the stern of the rowboat. "Pull! Pull!" shouted Dave. And then they all pulled as never before, Captain Broadbeam giving the stroke, and soon the rowboat was carried a hundred feet from shore. But now came a second flight of arrows and Pat Stoodles was hit in the back. "I'm done fer!" he moaned, and fell in a heap at the bottom of the craft. "Give me his oar!" came from Bob, and with his teeth set grimly, he caught up the drifting blade and took his place among the rowers. Shower after shower of arrows now flew all around the rowboat and its occupants and nearly all on board were struck, although none seriously, for the distance was now too great for the savages' aim. "Keep it up--we'll soon be out of range," panted Captain Broadbeam, and straight out into the broad Pacific plunged the rowboat, over the breakers and then into the mighty swells beyond. At last the cove began to fade from view and the arrows no more reached them.