"We must get back to the ship as soon as possible," said my father. "The ammunition will run short if we stay here much longer." "Let's hope they won't attack us on the way," replied the bos'n. "With two badly wounded men it would be hard for us." "Yes, two men as stretcher-bearers to carry each of them, and two for the Maxim. That leaves but seven able to bear arms." "Do you propose to burn the village? It would serve to impress the lesson more deeply." "No; I think the poor fellows have suffered enough. Look upon the case from their point of view. Suppose, for instance, a party of niggers interfered with us at home--committed sacrilege, and otherwise trod on the corns of our feelings--wouldn't you cut up rough? Yet Conolly, by potting their sacred water-god, or whatever they call it, set the whole swarm of them buzzing round our heads. It's natural, after all. But there is one thing I'll burn, however." "And that is----?" "The idol." Two stout levers were placed under the base of the grinning image, and with a hearty cheer the men bent to their work, and the ponderous mass of painted wood trembled, swayed for a few moments, then pitched headlong on the ground. My father bent over it to more closely examine the painted and befeathered object. Suddenly he gave an exclamation of surprise. "Herbert," he called to his brother, "come here and tell us what you think of this." "Why," replied my uncle, "it's a figure-head." "It is, or rather was. But it is more than that. See, the pedestal is carved with long staves, each surmounted by a cross." "Well?" "A cross-surmounted pole is the symbol of St. Philip the Apostle; consequently, unless I am much mistaken, the idol was at one time the figurehead of the 'San Philipo.' Of course, we cannot take it with us now; but, should an opportunity occur, I mean to have this relic on board the 'Fortuna.' Is everything ready, Mr. Wilkins?" "Yes, sir." "Very well; we'll try and make our way back to the ship." A final examination showed that there were no signs of the natives in the vicinity of the village; so, taking the two wounded men on stretchers roughly improvised from bamboo poles and belts, we began our retreat. It was a nerve-racking ordeal. From the pitiless glare of the sun the narrow path looked black and forbidding under the trees, and with the possibility that every thicket concealed a bloodthirsty enemy, every man was keenly on the alert. The snapping of a twig or the passage of a bird amongst the treetops caused the men to halt, with rifle at the ready, in anticipation of a fierce onslaught from an unseen foe; while, to add to our difficulties, Hinks began to show symptoms of lightheadedness, shouting and struggling so violently that he had to be strapped to the litter, while Barnes groaned loudly at each jolt of the stretcher.