The Faytan warriors, fully armed, formed in two long lines just behind us, Joe being placed in front of one line and I before another. It was easy to guess their plan then. They intended to use us for living shields, believing our friends would not dare to fire upon us, and so advance near enough to the ship to board it with a rush and slay the pale-skins by sheer force of numbers. It was a desperate attempt, cleverly conceived, and based upon my assertion to the Crooked One that our friends would sacrifice themselves for our sakes. But nature took a hand in the game just then. The sky had been overcast since daybreak, and just as the two lines were advancing into the open, pushing Joe and me before them, the clouds opened and immense drops of rain came pattering down. It grew dark, too, so that we could scarcely see the ship, and the Faytans hesitated and looked inquiringly at their chieftain. The Crooked One eyed the sky, listened to the low growl of thunder, and ordered his men back to the forest. Next moment the rain came down in floods, and a bolt of lightning crashed overhead and sent a tall tree toppling down upon us. No one was hurt, but it was now so dark we could not see one another, and the great battle of the elements seemed to render our puny human war insignificant. I realized this would be a good time to make a break for liberty, but our hands were tied and the cords held by stalwart Faytans, so that we were unable to take advantage of the opportunity. Crash after crash succeeded, and the thunder was deafening, while around us the lightning darted like angry serpents. They have terrible storms in these tropics, at times, and it is no unusual thing for an island to suddenly disappear and never be heard of again. The tempest we now experienced was so extraordinary that I believe it awed even the natives. I could hear the sea pounding against the rocks and wondered if the boats patrolling the reefs could survive. An hour, perhaps, the storm lasted; but it broke almost as suddenly as it began, and while the trees still dripped rivulets upon us, who were drenched to the skin already, the sun came out brilliantly, shining for the first time that day. The clouds tumbled away hurriedly, as if they had business elsewhere; the wind hushed and was still and only the fierce boom of the breakers remained to remind us of our late fearful experience. The Faytans also recovered quickly. A few moments sufficed to turn the hundreds of dusky dripping statues into eager, alert warriors, and again the Crooked One ordered the advance—in the same manner previously attempted.