"Our escape cut off this way," thought Ned, the next moment; and then he placed his lips close to Frank's ear and whispered, for the boy had suddenly given his hand a quick pressure. "What did they say?" "It was the Muntrie," whispered Frank in the same way. "Says there is no boat missing, and that we can't be on the river. The only boat out is the one up by, where we are in prison." "Hist!" came from Hamet, and instead of the sound of oars growing fainter, they waxed loud. The boat had been turned, and swept by them again down stream, the search being deemed useless. Ten minutes after, when the beat of oars had died away, the boat was thrust out again, and all joined now in sending her up stream with a quiet steady stroke, which was kept to for a couple of hours; and then all at once the river mist began to be flushed with opal tints, the haggard faces of the occupants of the boat grew plain, and marks of blood were detected and rapidly washed away. The bright sunshine and some refreshment sent a gleam of hopefulness into every breast, and the men rowed on with renewed energy. They were all together now, and if they could manage to sustain life for a few days, they would be able either to reach the campong of the neighbouring rajah, and throw themselves on his mercy, or, after hiding, drop down the river some dark night. As the sun rose higher, their exertions began to tell; the strokes given by Frank and Ned grew more feeble, and a suitable place being found, the boat was run in under shelter among the overhanging boughs, and an hour's rest taken. Then once more forward, in spite of the heat, till well on in the afternoon, when, as Frank and Ned were again resting, and the boat was slowly making way against the stream, Ned spoke, for the first time for quite an hour. "I suppose we've passed the place where they took us." "Eh?" cried Frank, starting. "I don't know. I forgot that. I say, Hamet, hadn't we better go on the other side of the river?" He had hardly uttered the words, when a spear flew from among the bushes not many yards away, and stuck in the bottom of the boat close to where Hamet was seated. Mr Braine snatched his revolver from his waist and fired in the direction of the enemy, who replied with a couple more spears, both of which fell short, dropping into the water with a light splash, for Hamet had made a tremendous sweep with his oar, and sent the boat's head round toward the farther shore, so that in a minute or two they were out of danger. "I will not fire again," Mr Braine said; "not that it much matters, for these men will warn any boat which follows that we have gone by."