But here, where evidently the same submissiveness was expected, the miscreants were fired upon before they had discharged a single shot themselves.  Not only that, but the Caucasians kept the thing up.  This was contrary to all rule and precedent.

If, however, the white men did not wait to be slain, neither did the dusky barbarians sit still and allow themselves to be shot down.  They ceased paddling and appealed to their guns, whose bullets began whistling about the heads of the defenders in the other boat.

Who of our friends did it will never be known, but one of them perforated the gaunt scoundrel who, with his form bent over, was pushing the pole while he stalked the length of the boat, returning again to the prow to repeat the performance.  The fellow emitted a screech like a wounded tiger and leaped several feet in air, coming down on the gunwale, over which he toppled into the water and was seen no more.  It was the spirited defiance of the white men that told.  Screening themselves as best they could they continued firing, Jack Everson occasionally adding a shot from his revolver by way of variety.  The conformation of the other boat and its crowded condition prevented the natives from sheltering themselves as did those who were using them as targets.  In short, the wretches were getting the worst of the business, and it did not take them long to learn the fact.  Left without control, their boat began drifting with the current, which being stronger than along shore gradually carried it down stream and out of sight.  So long, however, as it was visible its occupants continued firing, while the white people did still better, for they sent several shots after their enemies when they could see nothing and fired wholly by guess.

There could be no question that the promptness of Dr. Marlowe and the vigor of the resistance threw their foes into a sort of panic from which they did not recover until beyond range.  They had been taught a lesson that they were sure to remember for a long time; though, when our friends came to think the matter over, after finding no one of them had been hurt, they could not escape the belief that the consequences were certain to be of the most serious nature to themselves, and in this conclusion, sad to say, they were not mistaken.

CHAPTER XIII.

Under the bank.

A few minutes later an open space appeared in front of the boat.  It was the month of the tributary flowing into the Ganges from the left or north, and was more than a hundred yards across.  Since it was necessary to stem the current in order to take advantage of this refuge, the doctor contemplated it with misgiving, for the work of poling it up stream promised to be laborious.  He had not forgotten his original plan of abandoning the boat and striking across the country on foot, taking advantage of the less-frequented roads and paths that were well known to him.  He was relieved, however, to find the flow so languid that it was easy to make headway against it.