On his way, he looked into the wheel-house. There was no light in the interior. Boyle, wrapped in a heavy coat, was seated in the most sheltered corner. “All quiet?” asked the captain, in his brisk way. “Nothin’ doin’, sir,” answered Boyle. “I expect you are both feeling pretty tired. Tollemache and I propose to relieve you at six bells.” “But why?” demanded Christobal. “It is you who have passed an exciting day. I am ready to mount guard until dawn. Tollemache can join me now if he likes, as Mr. Boyle ought to be in bed.” “I’m all right,” said Boyle, gruffly. “I am only sitting here because my back is stiff.” Courtenay glanced at the somber shadow of Point _Kansas_, silhouetted against the deep blue of the seaward arc. “Suarez has retired to roost,” he said. “He seems to be quite assured that the Indians will never deliver a night attack.” “To-day’s hammering should teach them to leave the _Kansas_ alone in future,” said Christobal. “I hope so, but Suarez and Tollemache agree that they are most persistent wretches. Now, Boyle, you must obey the doctor. I am going back to the saloon to give Miss Maxwell some documents I wish her to see. Then, Tollemache and I will relieve the pair of you. All right, Christobal; I promise to take my share of the blankets in the morning. I shall be ready for a nap at four o’clock. At present I feel particularly wide-awake.” He went to the cabin. They heard him unlock the door and enter. At that instant a startling hail came from two sailors stationed on the poop. “Indianos!” they yelled. The three men were on the spar deck a second later, straining their eyes into the black vagueness of the water. “Indianos!” shouted two other sailors on the forecastle, and from the spar deck it seemed to be possible to distinguish several black objects moving towards the ship. “The siren, Boyle,” cried Courtenay, striking a match. At once the swelling note of the fog-horn smote the air and thundered away in tremendous sound waves. Soon a hissing, fiery serpent ran up the port wall of the chart-house, and a fine star rocket soared into the sky. It illuminated a wide area of the bay, and revealed a number of crowded canoes darting in on the ship from all sides. Courtenay grasped the lines connected with the remaining mines and hauled for dear life. Already the Indian rifle fire was crackling with vivid spurts of flame, and stones and arrows were beginning to patter on the deck and bang against the steel plates. Two of the dynamite bombs exploded with the usual din, but it was impossible to ascertain their effect owing to the yelling of the Indians.