Bathurst rose to his feet and ran, stumbling like a drunken man, towards the bushes, and just as he reached them, fell heavily forward, and lay there insensible.

Three men came out from the jungle and dragged him in.

As they did so loud screams arose from the other bank, then half a dozen muskets were fired, and all was quiet.
It was not for a quarter of an hour that Bathurst was conscious of what was going on around him.

Someone was rubbing his chest and hands.
"Who is it ?" he asked.
"Oh, it is you, Bathurst!" he heard Wilson's voice exclaim.

"I thought it was you, but it is so dark now we are off that white sand that I could not see.