The news then spread quickly along the whole length of the island that we were friends, and as we resumed our journey, crowds from the shore cried out to us, “Mwendé Kivuké-vuké.” (“Go in peace!”) The crest of the island was about eighty feet above the river, and was a marvel of vegetation, chiefly of plantain and banana plantations. On our left rose the other bank, with similar wooded heights, dipping occasionally into small creeks and again rising into ridges, with slopes, though steep, clothed with a perfect tangle of shrubs and plants. After a descent of ten miles by this channel, we found the river increased in width to 2000 yards. While rowing down, close to the left bank, we were suddenly surprised by hearing a cry from one of the guards of the hospital canoes, and, turning round, saw an arrow fixed in his chest. The next instant, looking towards the bank, we saw the forms of many men in the jungle, and several arrows flew past my head in extremely unpleasant proximity. We sheered off instantly, and, pulling hard down stream, came near the landing-place of an untenanted market-green. Here we drew in-shore, and, sending out ten scouts to lie in wait in the jungle, I mustered all the healthy men, about thirty in number, and proceeded to construct a fence of brushwood, inspired to unwonted activity by a knowledge of our lonely, defenceless state. Presently a shriek of agony from another of my men rang out through the jungle, followed immediately by the sharp crack of the scouts’ Sniders, which again was responded to by an infernal din of war-horns and yells, while arrows flew past us from all directions. Twenty more men were at once sent into the jungle to assist the scouts, while, with might and main, we laboured to surround our intended camp with tall and dense hedges of brushwood, with sheltered nooks for riflemen. After an hour’s labour the camp was deemed sufficiently tenable, and the recall was sounded. The scouts retreated on the run, shouting as they approached, “Prepare! prepare! they are coming!”