Meantime Annatoo was still busy aloft, loosing the smaller sails--t'gallants and royals, which she managed partially to set.
The strong breeze from astern now filling the ill-set sails, they bellied, and rocked in the air, like balloons, while, from the novel strain upon it, every spar quivered and sprung.

And thus, like a frightened gull fleeing from sea-hawks, the little Parki swooped along, and bravely breasted the brine.
His shattered arm in a hempen sling, Samoa stood at the helm, the muskets reloaded, and planted full before him on the binnacle.

For a time, so badly did the brigantine steer, by reason of her ill- adjusted sails, made still more unmanageable by the strength of the breeze,--that it was doubtful, after all, notwithstanding her start, whether the fugitives would not yet fall a prey to their hunters.

The craft wildly yawed, and the boat drew nearer and nearer.
Maddened by the sight, and perhaps thinking more of revenge for the past, than of security for the future, Samoa, yielding the helm to Annatoo, rested his muskets on the bulwarks, and taking long, sure aim, discharged them, one by one at the advancing foe.
The three reports were answered by loud jeers from the savages, who brandished their spears, and made gestures of derision; while with might and main the Cholos tugged at their oars.
The boat still gaining on the brigantine, the muskets were again reloaded.

And as the next shot sped, there was a pause; when, like lightning, the headmost Cholo bounded upwards from his seat, and oar in hand, fell into the sea.