"Hillo, Benjie Brail," shouted friend Davie--"where away, my lad? Come back to mother earth"--("_alma mater tellus_," said a voice near me--Corporal Lennox for a thousand, thought I)--"my dear boy, the bright sky overhead, that _I_ make no doubt you are apostrophising so poetically, will soon be shrouded by that brooding mist there--never doubt me." He augured rightly; for, in a little, a thick haze did in very deed begin to mantle over the water, and continued to increase until the glorious planet and bright stars were again obscured, and you could scarcely see the length of the felucca. Quacco's hint, however, was by no means thrown away on us; we immediately saw all clear to give our savage neighbours a warm reception, should they venture down under cover of the fog. We had been some time at quarters, the boats astern having been hauled up alongside, lest, in the fog, some of the canoes might venture near enough to cut the painters. But every thing continued so quiet and still, that we were beginning to consider our warlike preparations might not altogether have teen called for. "I say, Sprawl," said I--"Poo, these poor creatures will not venture down on us; especially after the lesson they had yesterday?" "Don't trust to that, Brail, my good boy," said Davie. "No, massa, don't you trust to dat, as Massa Prawl say," quoth Quacco--"I know someting--ah, you shall see." Here the poor fellow crept close up to Dick Lanyard, "Captain--if you love sleep in one skin hab no hole in him--if, massa, you walue de life of dem sailor intrust to you--ill-bred fellow as dem may be,--let no one--no--not so mosh as de leetle dirty cook-boy--shut him eyelid until to-morrow sun melt de fog, and"---- Something dropped at my foot, with a splintering sort of sound, as if you had cast a long dry reed on the deck. "What is that?" said I. "Will you be convince now?" said Quacco, slowly and solemnly. "Will Massa Brail,"--turning to me, and handing a slender wand, about ten feet long,--"will good Massa Brail be convin"---- Spin--another arrow-like affair quivered in the mast close beside us. It had passed sheer between the first lieutenant and me. "Ah, ah, ah!" exclaimed Quacco in a mighty great quandary--"dere is anoder--anoder spear--mind, gentlemen--mind, gentlemen, mind, or a whole feet of war-canoe will be aboard of you before you can look round." "Men!" shouted Lanyard, "keep a bright lookout; there are native canoes cruising all about us, and close to, in the thick mist there. Peer about, will ye? Small-arm men, stand to your tackling--clear away both guns. Hush--what is that?" "Nothing," said Sprawl--"I hear nothing but the rushing of the river, and the groaning and rubbing of the boats alongside against the gunwale." "But I do," said Pumpbolt. "And so do I," said Mr Marline. "There is the splash of paddles as plain as can be--there"---- "Where?" said De Walden.