I did as I was bid, while Philipson himself took the boathook and crawled forward, where he crouched low on our decked-in bow. Soon I saw the wisdom of his plan. It was typical of the man. His mind always seemed to be made up the instant a fresh problem presented itself, and his policy was usually a sudden original move, bold to the point of impudence. On this occasion it met with brilliant success. There were at least five men on the other launch, against our three, and had we merely tried to dodge them, it's likely we should have been grappled, boarded, and overpowered, or at least forced to use firearms and thus bring out the river police. As it was, the very unexpectedness of our attack threw the enemy into confusion and enabled us to get clean away, so that watchers on shore could hardly have been aware of the little drama that was being played in midstream. What actually happened is this. I ran our boat straight at the other, then at the last moment put the helm hard down. A figure had sprung up in the bows of the enemy craft, clearly intending to leap aboard of us, but he had reckoned without Philipson and his boathook. Philipson also sprang to his feet, caught the opposing bow-man full in the stomach, and hurled him backwards into the river. There were the odds evened by one at the very outset. The boats came together with a loud scraping clatter, and I saw two natives seize our gunwale while a third, erect behind them, drew back for a leap. Ah Sing pluckily gripped one man by the throat and dragged him on to our boat, where the pair tumbled into the well and rolled over and over, fighting like terriers. I was holding revolver and tiller in my right hand. With my left I struck out, caught the second gunwale man between the eyes and had the satisfaction of seeing him stagger back, half overturning the man behind him. The check was only momentary, however, for the fellow was up and inboard of us before I could strike again. I saw a short club raised above my head, and threw up my left arm in defence, but I never felt the blow fall. The man was suddenly snatched away from in front of me. Philipson, having finished his business in the bows, had rushed aft and seized my attacker by the waist and lifted him off his feet as if he had been a child. Then for the second time that evening I witnessed an exhibition of this man's superhuman strength. He gave the body a sudden swing and hurled it back on to the other boat with such terrific force that the fellow overshot the mark altogether, sweeping one of his comrades overboard with him. Next, pretty much as if he had been playing skittles, Mr. Saunders Philipson stooped into the well, where Ah Sing had finally got a strangle hold on _his_ antagonist, detached the two men, picked our enemy up and threw him far out into the stream, where his sudden yell was cut short in a great splash. The whole thing was over in a few seconds, most of the enemy in the water, and the one native left aboard