“Now turn your glasses on the islands ahead.”

Venning turned round, and looked up-stream.

“Is the launch nearer than the islands?”

“I can see a stork standing on the edge of the water.  The first of the islands is nearest.”  He turned again to watch the launch.  “There is more smoke—­they are stoking up.”

The launch was unquestionably coming up hand over hand, and it was not long before Venning could see the foam at her bows, and the flag of the Congo Free State flying at her stern.  Then he saw a ball of smoke.

“She is firing!” he yelled.

Compton never took his eyes off the little cluster of reeds ahead that marked the first of the thousand islands.

“Keep her going!” he shouted.

Mr. Hume smiled grimly, for he was doing the work of two men.

“They are loading the gun!” cried Venning.  “Oh, if I only could help!” He buttoned and unbuttoned his coat, then picked up the sculls, and fell to rowing with fierce energy.  “The smoke!” he cried.  Then, a moment later, “What’s that noise?” as a menacing sound with a shrieking whistle to it smote on his ears.

There was no need for an answer.  The shot struck the water about a hundred yards short, and skipped by, wide of the Okapi, but still too near to be pleasant.

“Keep on!” shouted Compton, fiercely.

The levers clanked furiously, and Venning, who had suspended his sculling under the menace of the shot, tugged again at his work.

The steam-whistle of the launch sounded a series of sharp, jerky calls, followed by the firing of a Mauser bullet.  Venning’s heart was pumping blood at express speed under the violence of his efforts, and his eyes in a wild stare were fixed on the approaching craft, which had now brought its living freight within recognizable distance.  He could distinguish the two Belgian officers and the swart face of the Arab chief, Hassan.  He could see the men with rifles, aiming, as it seemed, straight at him, and then he ducked his head as he saw the smoke once more belch from the seven-pounder.  At the same moment he was nearly capsized by the sudden swerve of the Okapi, as she almost turned on her keel.  The shot struck the water so close that the spray drenched them.  Compton looked round and shouted aloud—­

“They’re aground!  Hurrah!”

Venning, recovering himself, saw the men on the launch hurled to the deck.

“Hurray!” he shouted.

“Keep on!” shouted Compton; and, after another five minutes’ burst, the Okapi swept behind one island and passed in between two others.  “Now,” he said, “give me the levers.”

“You’re welcome,” said Mr. Hume, wiping the moisture from his brow and taking a huge breath.

He went forward to the wheel, and threaded the Okapi through narrow passages between islands of all shapes and sizes, until after having got into such a fastness as would be impracticable for the launch to reach, he ran the boat on a shelving sandbank.  Then, before anything else was attempted, the awning was fixed, and they settled down for a needed rest.  Next the boys smacked each other on the back.