As soon as he was able, Ned struggled up again.
Not a native was in sight.

A terrific yell had broken from them at the explosion, which sounded to them like one of the cannons of their Spanish oppressors; and, smarting with the wounds simultaneously made by the hot brands, each, without a moment's thought, had taken to his heels.

Tom gave a shout of exultation, as Ned rose.

The latter at once stooped and, with difficulty, picked up one of the still blazing brands, and hurried towards the tree.
"If these fellows will remain away for a couple of minutes, Tom, you shall be free," he said, "and I don't think they will get over their scare as quickly as that." So saying, he applied the end of the burning brand to the dry withes with which Tom was bound to the tree.

These at once took fire and flared up, and the bands fell to the ground.
"Now, Tom, do me the same service." This was quickly rendered, and the lads stood free.
"Now, let us get our weapons." A short search revealed to them their bows, laid carefully aside, while the ground was scattered with the arms which the natives, in their panic, had dropped.
"Pick them all up, Tom, and toss them on the fire.