At first the brute seemed scarcely aware that anything unusual had gone down his throat; but, as he was making another dart at the boat, he suddenly began to move about in an eccentric way--as Paddy said, "as if something troubled him in his inside," and then, turning away, buried his huge body in the mud, while his tail lashed the water into foam. Round the spot above where his head was probably hidden, a red circle was formed, which, whirling round in the eddies of the current, came sweeping past the boat, proving that Adair's shot had not failed to take effect. Well content to get thus easily rid of their unpleasant antagonist, the men shaved the boat on rapidly down the creek. They had not quite come in sight of the slave schooner when a shout reached their ears. It was repeated. It sounded like a cry for help. "It is Murray's voice, sir," exclaimed Adair; "he is shouting to us; he is attacked, depend on it." So Mr Hemming thought. The boat was got round, the men sprang into their seats, and, getting out their oars, dashed away down the stream. The sound of several pistol-shots reached their ears and increased their eagerness to get on. They soon came in sight of the schooner. Murray and his two companions were on her deck, and keeping at bay a dozen Spaniards and blacks, who were attempting to force their way across the platform. Several other people were coming up, and in another instant Murray and the two seamen would have been overpowered. Even when united the Englishmen were far outnumbered by the Spaniards and blacks. Murray heard the shout of his friends as they drew near, and it encouraged him to persevere in his hitherto almost hopeless defence of the prize. In another instant the boat dashed alongside. The crew quickly scrambled on board, and, whirling their cutlasses round their heads, with loud shouts they charged the enemy, and drove them off the platform.