|On the Makaloa Mat LondonJack Publishedabmemm

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Jaffir's opportunity had come but he lingered by the
side of his Rajah. In the clear air the sun shone with great
force. Tuan Jorgenson looked once more toward Belarab's stockade,
O Rajah Laut! But there was nothing there, not even a flag
displayed that had not been there before. Jaffir looked that way,
too, and as he turned his head he saw Tuan Jorgenson, in the
midst of twenty spear-blades that could in an instant have been
driven into his breast, put the cigar in his mouth and jump down
the hatchway. At that moment Rajah Hassim gave Jaffir a push
toward the side and Jaffir leaped overboard.
"He was still in the water when all the world was darkened round
him as if the life of the sun had been blown out of it in a
crash. A great wave came along and washed him on shore, while
pieces of wood, iron, and the limbs of torn men were splashing
round him in the water. He managed to crawl out of the mud.
Something had hit him while he was swimming and he thought he
would die. But life stirred in him. He had a message for you. For
a long time he went on crawling under the big trees on his hands
and knees, for there is no rest for a messenger till the message
is delivered. At last he found himself on the left bank of the
creek.
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|On the Makaloa Mat LondonJack Publishedabmcdp