THE BEAK-SAGA. 
317 
reloaded, Fitz had also come up, and a regular massacre 
began. Retiring to a distance—for it was the case of 
Mahomet and the mountain reversed—the two sportsmen 
opened fire upon the innocent community, and in a few 
seconds sixteen corpses strewed the ground. 
Scarcely had they finished off the last survivor of this 
Mobean family, when we were startled by the distant 
report of a volley of musketry, fired in the direction of 
the schooner. I could not conceive what had happened. 
Had a mutiny taken place ? Was Mr. Wyse re¬ 
enacting, with a less docile ship’s company, the pistol 
scene on board the Glasgow steamer ? Again resounded 
the rattle of the firing. At all events, there was no time 
to be lost in getting back ; so, tying up the birds in three 
bundles, we flung ourselves down into the gulley by 
which we had ascended, and leaping on from stone to 
stone, to the infinite danger of our legs and necks—rolled 
rather than ran down the hill. On rounding the lower 
wall of the curve which hitherto had hid what was 
passing from our eyes, the first thing I observed was 
Wilson breasting up the hill, evidently in a state of the 
greatest agitation. As soon as he thought himself 
within earshot, he stopped dead short, and making a 
