The little vessel was accordingly kept on down the river. Great was their disappointment, on coming in sight of the bar, to find a heavy surf breaking over it, while the breeze which came in set very nearly up the stream. It was absolutely necessary to bring up. The anchor was dropped, and as the vessel swung to the tide the dark waters came whirling and eddying by with a force which made Hemming thankful that he had not attempted to cross the bar. As soon as he had brought up, he made every preparation for defending the vessel from the attack to be expected. Having got all their arms ready, he had ropes passed round and round the vessel above the bulwarks, so as to serve in the place of boarding-nettings, and then, not without great difficulty, they hoisted their own boat on board, and stowed her amidships. These important preparations being made, they lighted the fire in the caboose and cooked a dinner, for which an abundance of provisions was found on board. A couple of hours passed away. They were anxious ones to Hemming--so they were to Murray, and perhaps to Adair, though the men did not probably trouble themselves much about the matter. A constant lookout, however, was kept--up the river, lest the pirates should come on them unawares, and down the river, in the hopes of seeing the surf diminishing on the bar and the wind set more out of it. What could have become of Mr Evans, Rogers, and their party, was also the constant subject of conversation. "Hurrah!" at last cried Murray, who had been looking out astern, "the bar is getting quite smooth. See, there is scarcely any current passing us, and the wind is setting almost out of the river." "And here come the canoes in battle-array," cried Adair from forward. "They will be down upon us before many minutes are over." "Heave up the anchor, my lads," shouted Hemming; "let fall the topsails. Run up the jib and fore-staysail. Set the foresail and mainsail." These orders followed in rapid succession. The men did not require to be told to be smart about the work. Round came the schooner's head. Her sails filled, and, under complete command, she stood towards the bar. A clear piece of water showed the only passage she could take with safety. The slave-trader's fleet of canoes came on, but they were just in time to be too late. The schooner stood on, and, well piloted, dashed through the dangerous passage; the surf boiling up still on either side, but not breaking on board her. In another minute she was over it, and floating free in the open ocean.