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66 was centered in myself and my companions, and I constantly speculated upon the fate which awaited us.

We had been in the village about an hour, and the chief was in earnest conversation with his followers, when there came several pistol shots from the direction of the sea-coast. "Captain Kenny and the others have come up," murmured Tom Dawson. "I hope the natives get me worst of it." He was right, the captain had come up, but the natives overcame him by sheer force of numbers, and he and his men, including the Chinese cook, were bound and placed on the Dart. What this turn of affairs led to we will see in the later chapters of my tale.