us fast. At last he sprang to his feet. "They are canoes, Ralph!
whether war-canoes or not I cannot tell, but this I know, that all
the natives of the South Sea Islands are fierce cannibals, and they
have little respect for strangers. We must hide if they land here,
which I earnestly hope they will not do."

I was greatly alarmed at Jack's speech, but I confess I thought
less of what he said than of the earnest, anxious manner in which
he said it, and it was with very uncomfortable feelings that
Peterkin and I followed him quickly into the woods.

"How unfortunate," said I, as we gained the shelter of the bushes,
"that we have forgotten our arms."

"It matters not," said Jack; "here are clubs enough and to spare."
As he spoke, he laid his hand on a bundle of stout poles of various
sizes, which Peterkin's ever-busy hands had formed, during our
frequent visits to the cliff, for no other purpose, apparently,
than that of having something to do.

We each selected a stout club according to our several tastes, and
lay down behind a rock, whence we could see the canoes approach,
without ourselves being seen. At first we made an occasional
remark on their appearance, but after they entered the lagoon, and
drew near the beach, we ceased to speak, and gazed with intense
interest at the scene before us.

We now observed that the foremost canoe was being chased by the
other, and that it contained a few women and children, as well as
men, - perhaps forty souls altogether; while the canoe which