What was I now to do?
To be taken by the savages was too horrible to be thought of; to flee to the mountains was hopeless, as I should soon be discovered; and to take the schooner out of the creek without assistance was impossible.

I resolved, however, to make the attempt, as being my only hope, and was on the point of pushing off when my hand was stayed and my blood chilled by an appalling shriek in which I recognised the voice of one of the crew.

It was succeeded by a shout from the savages.
Then came another, and another shriek of agony, making my ears to tingle, as I felt convinced they were murdering the pirate crew in cold blood.
With a bursting heart and my brain whirling as if on fire, I seized the boat-hook to push from shore when a man sprang from the bushes.
"Stop! Ralph, stop!--there now, push off," he cried, and bounded into the boat so violently as nearly to upset her.

It was Bill's voice! In another moment we were on board,--the boat made fast, the line of the anchor cut, and the sweeps run out.

At the first stroke of Bill's giant arm the schooner was nearly pulled ashore, for in his haste he forgot that I could scarcely move the unwieldy oar.