"They are in force," said the Rajah, "that is evident, and I fancy that we shall have some difficulty in ferreting them out. Listen to the fellows! Why, they make even more noise than before."

That the natives were aroused was very evident, for as the pinnace came within sight of the thick jungle which they had selected for defence, the crash of gongs and war-drums became deafening, while shrill cries of anger and defiance filled the air.

"Just let them see that we can make a noise too," sang out the lieutenant cheerily. "Steady there, my lads! Hang on your oars while we get the gun ranged! You can fire when you are ready, gunner."

"Ay, ay, sir. Grape, or shall I give the varmint a ball?"

"The first, please, and send it well amongst them."

"You can trust me for that, sir. I've waited for this here day for a year back, and bust me—"

The remainder of his conversation became inaudible as he turned to the twelve-pounder and began to adjust the sights; but that he was in earnest was clear, for he paid particular attention to the levelling of the weapon, taking so much time that those who were looking on could almost have struck him, so greatly was their patience tried. But now all was in readiness, and with a glance at his commander the gunner of the pinnace sent the contents of his weapon splattering into the forest. At once a deafening babel of shouts and shrieks arose, while a hail of slugs, leaden pellets, and pieces of iron and stone came swishing in the direction of the pinnace.

"Marines to watch and pick off their men. Pull, my lads, and let us give them the cold steel," sang out the lieutenant, standing in his place to watch the enemy. "Now, all together, send her ahead."

There was no confusion on the pinnace, thanks to the fact that all had been previously arranged, and to the discipline which existed. In a moment the bows were pointing for the bank, and hardly had the keel grated, and the twelve-pounder again spoken out, than more than half of those aboard sprang ashore. Seizing cutlasses, they waited only to allow their officers to take post in advance, when they went pell-mell for the enemy.

"Keep together, lads, and be sure that you do not separate from your comrades," shouted the lieutenant, for the jungle was extremely dense, and to have rushed into its midst without any caution would certainly have led to death. But the men who composed the expedition were hardened to warfare and were perfectly steady. By no means lacking the necessary dash, they, for all that, held themselves together, and, without losing their heads in the excitement of the moment, obeyed their officers to the full. Bearing to the left, where a number of the enemy were located, the gallant little band threw itself upon them, cutlasses and revolvers meeting kriss and knife, while overhead flew spears thrown by the Dyaks.

"Charge!" shrieked Lieutenant Horton as they came to close quarters. "Beat them back and then prepare to retreat."

Without glancing back at his men, for he knew well enough that he would not be allowed to attack alone, he rushed at the nearest pirate, and, fending a swishing blow aimed at him with a kriss, cut the man down with his sword. The Rajah was beside him, and he too was confronted by a formidable pirate. But there was no standing against him, for this Rajah was the Englishman whose name was known and feared far and wide, and who had shown that he was as good in the fight as he was in ordering the affairs of the people of Sarawak. An arm shot from his shoulder, and the fist lit full upon the face of the nearest pirate, while a shot from his revolver sent a second sprawling to the ground. A third at once took to his heels, an example which his comrades instantly followed. As for Tyler, a busy three minutes was before him. Running beside the Rajah and the lieutenant, he had at once become engaged with the enemy, and had shot down a man with his weapon. Then in the background he once again caught sight of the familiar, bulky figure of the Dutchman, and, instantly forgetting the caution which had been given, he rushed forward, hoping to capture him.

"The murderer!" he shouted at the top of his voice. "After him!"

Forgetful of the danger he would incur, and of the fact that he was disobeying an order, he plunged forward and snatched at the collar of Hanns Schlott, while he held a revolver to his ear. A second later he was hurled aside by a Dyak who happened to be close beside his rascally leader, and hardly had he reached the earth than his opponent was standing over him, about to bury a murderous-looking kriss in his body.

"Fire!" shouted a voice some few yards away, and instantly, as if the order had been meant for him, Tyler pressed a trigger and brought his opponent stumbling upon his face.

"And now for Hanns Schlott," he called out, springing to his feet and looking about him. "Where is he? Surely he has not escaped."

"He has, sure enough," was the reply, in the well-known voice of John Marshall. "This kind of thing is too much for a chap like him. But we'd better be going, sir, for our chaps are retiring, and we ought never to have come so far."

That the advice was good was certain, and turning at once the two ran back to the main party, a shower of spears and a few bullets following them. Then the order was given to make for the pinnace, and very shortly all were aboard, staring into the jungle, while the twelve-pounder broke the silence with its boom.

"Looks as though we were surrounded," said the Rajah, turning his head. "Shots are coming from the jungle on either side, and from ahead also. Then I can see numbers of the enemy behind."

"Then we had better see how we are to get out of the muddle," replied the lieutenant coolly. "Ah, there's the spot, for us! Over with the tiller there, and head her for that little bay."

He pointed to a portion of the bank where there was a bend, and where in the course of many years the earth had been washed away till quite a little bay had been formed, with a perpendicular bank. And into this the pinnace and the few native boats which also formed part of the expedition were rowed.

"Marines to remain in the pinnace and keep up a musketry fire," cried the lieutenant in the calmest tones. "Men of the Dido to climb the bank and take up position there."

In a moment the tars were over the side, wading through the shallow water, and ere long had scrambled to the level of the jungle.

"A few minutes with their cutlasses would be a good thing, I think," the Rajah ventured to suggest. "I know these pirates well, and if you leave them cover through which to crawl they will be a constant danger and annoyance."

"Quite so, and many thanks, Rajah! I had not thought of that. Now, lads," continued the lieutenant, "all lie down and get your muskets ready. Mr. Richardson, take a party of twelve forward, and cut down the reeds and grass within thirty yards."

It seemed quite natural to Tyler to touch his cap and answer "Ay, ay, sir," and then, picking his men haphazard, he went to carry out the order. When that was done, the marines and sailors lay down flat upon the ground, firing now and again, but only when a figure showed itself. And round about them every tree hid an enemy, while the jungle was alive with the voices of the pirates, and the incessant jangle of gongs and the beat of war-drums. Spears flashed in the sunlight, cast by hands which could not be seen, while a shower of darts and arrows hissed through the air and struck the ground within a few inches of the defenders. And, drowning every other sound, the twelve-pounder every now and again spoke out, as it sent a charge of grape amidst the pirates.

When darkness came it found Tyler and his friends in sorry plight, surrounded by enemies, and deafened by the clamour which came from every quarter of the jungle.

CHAPTER XX
The End of the Chase

"We were in a tight place when upon the schooner," he whispered to his companion, the boatswain, "and that rock, where Li Sung and I were caught and surrounded was a ticklish position, but here there is no knowing where the enemy are. They are everywhere, and bullets and spears come from every direction. Halloo! There's a shot, and that is Captain Keppel's voice or I am much mistaken."

A few seconds later the crew of the gig joined hands with Lieutenant Horton's party, and a council of war was held, the Rajah joining in, together with Tyler.

"Come," said Captain Keppel in pleasant tones, "we of the navy do not pretend to know everything, and there is no doubt that in a case like this, when the lives of all our men are at stake, the best advice should be taken. You have had experience with these people, Rajah, and so have you, young Richardson. What shall we do? For my part I fancy that it will take us all our time to keep the enemy from rushing in upon us."

"I cannot see that we can do otherwise than remain here and do our best," was the emphatic answer, "for if we attempt to retire we may very well get into greater difficulties, and besides, it is a bad thing to give way before these fellows."

"Not to be thought of," burst in the captain with energy. "Either we remain, or we go forward."

"Why not scatter the men a little, keeping them sufficiently close to allow them to regain the centre with ease, and yet so far apart as to extend their radius of fire?" asked Tyler as the commander of the Dido turned to him. "Then if the men were instructed only to discharge their muskets when they actually saw one of the enemy, the latter might think that we were retiring, and might be induced to show up a little more. In that case we should give them a lesson."

"Capital! The lad has a head for these situations," exclaimed Captain Keppel. "We will do as he suggests and see what happens. As we have heard very truly, we are running the danger here of being rushed and of being slowly picked off, while the enemy are never seen. Let us entice them forward and then give them a few volleys. Come, I will take post on the left, and, Mr. Richardson, oblige me by going to the right. Rajah, will you come with me? while our lieutenant takes the post of honour in the centre."

The matter was arranged without further delay, and very shortly the movement had been carried out in absolute silence. With John Marshall beside him, Tyler crept into the jungle on the right, and, holding close to the bank of the river, pushed on till the voices of some of the enemy were close at hand.

Then, selecting a wooded part, before which the ground was more than usually open, he lay at full length and waited for some of the pirates to appear.

"Uncanny work," he whispered in his companion's ear. "I would far rather feel that the others were close at hand; but I suggested the movement and must carry my part of it through. Keep a bright look-out, and on no account fire unless I give the order."

Spread like a fan round the edge of the little bay, the sailors and marines took up their positions in couples, for even the boldest of men are apt to take fright when sent out into an unknown part in the darkness, and with enemies close at hand. Then silence came over the British force, and even the twelve-pounder, which had at intervals deafened all those within reach, and drowned the babel of the enemy, ceased its clamour. In silence, with locks at full cock and pieces at their shoulders, the men of the expedition waited; and as they lay there the deep and sonorous tones of hundreds of gongs came to an end also, and the war-drums remained unbeaten. Even the shouts and the babel of voices died down, and presently the jungle was at peace.

"One would imagine that we were alone," whispered Tyler. "But you may be sure that every tree hides some dark figure, and that away behind, out of hearing of ourselves, those who are leading the enemy are talking the matter over. Look over there. There are lights, and there is the sound of an axe."

He pointed to the right, up-stream, some fifty yards away, and both saw three dark figures standing close beside the water, holding torches above their heads. With them were some twenty others, who were attacking the trunks of the trees which grew on the edge of the bank, evidently with the object of causing them to fall across the stream.

"They want to keep us from going farther, which makes it look as though they had taken their women and children and their wealth to some spot up this tributary," said Tyler in low tones. "It will take them a little time to get through those trunks, so that we can leave them to it for the present. But later on we shall have to fire at them and drive them away. I wonder whether they will do the same down-stream, and so bar our retreat should we have cause to fly?"

The question was one which could not fail to cause him anxiety, for then the safety of all in the expedition would be jeopardized. But he had little time to think about it, for scarcely had his attention again returned to the jungle in front of him when some dozen dusky figures appeared, creeping across the open space which separated them from the bank. Instantly the muskets covered them, fingers went to the triggers, while heads sank down to the right till the eye could glance along the sights. But so deep was the gloom that that was impossible; so that those who were defending the position could only point their weapons where they thought the enemy were, in the hope of hitting them.

"Fire!" In stentorian tones the command came from the captain of the Dido, and at once a volley burst from the waiting men, causing the enemy to come to a halt, and then take to their heels with shrill cries of terror. Then once more the shouting and the incessant beat of gongs was heard, while the jungle became alive with moving figures, who fired at their foes and sent spears and arrows swishing in their direction.

"Now for the others," said Tyler, noticing that those who were engaged in cutting the trees were still at their work. "Ready? Then let them have a bullet."

Both fired together, while, ere the report of their rifles had died down, the boom of the twelve-pounder was heard, and a mass of grape went crashing in amongst the trees.

"That will be their last effort," said Tyler. "They must have lost heavily during the night, and seeing that we are not intending to retire they will begin to feel hopeless. To-morrow, when we start to ascend the river, they will feel that their cause is ruined."

And this proved to be the case. Lying or squatting upon the edge of the bank, the British force spent the long hours of darkness in keeping watch and in firing occasionally into the trees. Morning found them worn out with their exertions, and some of them actually asleep in spite of the danger. But a call from their leader soon brought them to their feet, and at once they prepared to embark.

"Get aboard, and smartly, my lads," he called out in cheery tones. "We have shown those fellows that we are not to be easily driven off, and now that the morning has come we will let them see that we have plenty of life left in us. Aboard, all of you, and let us hurry, for I am hungry, and until the matter is ended we shall be unable to breakfast."

The words brought a cheer and a shout of merriment from the sailors and marines, and all at once leapt to obey him. Soon the pinnace was manned, and with the gunner at his piece, and the marines with weapons ready, began to push up the river, followed by the gig in which sat Captain Keppel. Hardly had they rowed fifty yards when a man appeared with a white flag, and very soon the Rajah of Sarawak was engaged in conversation with him.

"Their women and children and all their possessions are up the stream," he said, when he had questioned the Malay, "and so they wish to lay down their arms on any terms, but with the hope that we will spare those who are helpless."

"Where is their leader?" asked the commander of the Dido. "They must hand him over to me immediately, for he is a murderer, and I have more interest in capturing the fellow than in taking hundreds of these natives."

"They say that that is impossible," was the Rajah's answer, when he had again spoken with the Malay who bore the white flag. "Hanns Schlott, the murderer, bolted early in the night, and has not been seen since."

"Then they must provide trackers and a force to go in search," said Captain Keppel without hesitation. "Mr. Richardson, you will take half a dozen men and go in command, for I will not deprive you of a task which belongs to you by rights. Get your breakfast at once, and set out as soon as you can. Now, Rajah, we will discuss this matter in full, and then I fancy that you, like myself, will be glad of something to eat."

At a shout from the Malay several of the head men amongst the pirates came forward, and entered into conversation with the great white man of whom all had heard. Thanks to the fact that the Rajah spoke the language like a native of Borneo the negotiations were soon completed, and in less than half an hour it had been arranged that a final meeting should take place in the afternoon, when the terms to be granted should be published. When that hour arrived, the chiefs came forward once more, looking dejected and down at heart, and sat down in a circle about the Rajah. Great was their surprise and delight when they were told that only hostages would be required for their good behaviour, and that they were to abstain from piracy, or their country would be again invaded. Beyond that there was no punishment, but they were urgently advised to take to trade and live at peace with their neighbours.

As for Tyler, he was delighted with the permission given him, and with the thought that the capture of the murderer was to be left to him entirely. Hastily gulping down a breakfast, he took his place at the head of the six men whom he had selected, and at once called for the natives who were to lead the party. Then he plunged into the jungle in their wake, for all the world as if these guides were the Dyaks whom he had met farther along the coast, and they were making their way to Sarawak.

"Dutchman here," said one of the trackers suddenly, coming to a halt and pointing eagerly at the ground. "Here," he said, making use of the small stock of English which he possessed. "Follow, and we catch."

Like hounds let loose upon the trail the party of Malays and Dyaks who were leading plunged through the jungle, taxing the strength of Tyler and his men to the full. For an hour they kept on without a halt, and just as Tyler was about to call to them and beg of them to stop for a time, their leader threw his arms into the air, and spread them out, as a signal to all that he had made a discovery.

"Come along here," he said, pointing with his finger to the trail left by the Dutchman as he fled. "Him big and heavy, and him sit there. See?"

Tyler glanced at the spot, and at once grasped the fact that Hanns Schlott had rested himself upon the root of a tree. But he could not tell that which was clear to the native.

"Him have gun," said the latter positively. "Him sit and point into tree. Then him let gun drop beside him. There are the marks."

As if he had actually witnessed the act, the man pointed to some scratches upon the bark where the lock of the gun must have struck. Then he led Tyler a few paces ahead, drawing his attention to the trail as he did so.

"Him silly," he said with a disdainful smile for the memory of his old leader. "Ever since he take the boat from the Englishman and kill the owner, him so silly. Him frightened at him own shadow. See here. He start and turn round at every step. Him stop and raise the rifle. Him fire. Look!"

The eagle glance of this pirate allowed nothing to escape him, and as he spoke he drew Tyler's attention to various spots. Before them ran the trail, still freshly shown by the trampled grass and reed. And as the tracker had said, it came to a stop here and there, while a small patch was more trodden than the other. Here it was that Hanns Schlott, the cowardly Dutchman, and the villain who had murdered Mr. Beverley, had halted to stare about him. His conscience perhaps disturbed him. Or he imagined that he heard a sound, or saw a figure. Fear of capture and of death unnerved him, and, giving credence to his imagination, he peered amidst the jungle, and then fired his piece at some shadow. Yes, that was what had happened, for Tyler could see with his own eyes the huge patch where the shot had struck a tree close at hand and ripped the bark from it.

"We shall have to be careful," he said, "or this fellow will be shooting us as we come up with him. He is a desperate man, and will stop at nothing."

"Looks as if he was daft," burst in John Marshall. "Seems to me as if the trouble had turned his head. But the fellow's beckoning, sir. He wants us to go ahead."

"He not far away. Soon find the Dutchman," said the Malay, dragging his kriss from his pocket. "Shall he be killed, or taken a prisoner?"

"The last," was Tyler's answer, "for he has a crime to answer for. Come, push ahead and let us capture him."

Once more the party of natives and Englishmen took up the trail, and a mile farther on were rewarded by the sound of a rifle-shot which suddenly rang out in the jungle. Instantly they redoubled their pace, and did not halt till the leading Malay again threw his arms into the air and motioned to them to do so. A moment or two later their eyes fell upon the figure of Hanns Schlott. But what a change! Once a burly individual, with enormous, unwieldy limbs and rounded cheeks, he was now a haggard man. True, the time had been too short to allow of much change in his weight or in his general appearance; but it was the Dutchman's face and eyes which attracted attention, while the droop of his head, the stoop of his broad shoulders, added to the change which could be observed. No longer was he the leader of a band of pirates whose ill fame had spread far and wide, and who committed any sort of atrocity with impunity. He was a criminal escaping from the law, and every shadow, each tree and bush, contained one of the pursuers. That young Englishman who had been aboard the schooner when the murder of Mr. Beverley was carried out was forever in his memory, and each object which his imagination conjured into human shape was Tyler's figure. Our hero's name was forever on his lips, and each shot from his smoking rifle was meant to pierce his body.

"That killed him! I saw the bullet strike on his body and perforate," the Dutchman was shouting as Tyler and his friends came up with the fugitive.

"Ha, ha, ha! At last I have paid off the score. He said he would follow me and hang me, and instead I drove him ashore. Then he went to Paddi and robbed us of our prahus. For that my shot has paid. And now to give him what is due, to return in full the trouble which he has caused me. I will go within an inch of him, and will place the muzzle against his ear. Then I shall be free."

As he spoke Hanns Schlott glared at one portion of the jungle, with eyes which seemed to protrude from their sockets and to be capable of seeing nothing else. Then he grasped his rifle with feverish hands, and in spite of the fact that it was still hot rammed a charge in. Then another thought came to his tortured mind, and he clutched his head in despair.

"Beaten!" he shouted in high-pitched tones. "Even then I am not sure of my life, for there is another. The beggarly sailor, John Marshall they called him, knew of the deed. He saw it, and swore, too, that he would follow me to the end of the world. Of what use to struggle further?"

He paused in the process of ramming down a charge, and attempted to consider the question. But his wits had gone astray, and, unable to grasp the matter, his mind again turned to Tyler.

"What!" he screamed, suddenly facing about, and pointing at another part of the jungle. "He is still alive and laughs at me. Ha!"

His face was like a demon's as, gun in hand, he crept stealthily towards the spot in which he fancied his victim was hidden. The lips twitched and were withdrawn from the teeth. The pallid cheeks hung loosely and quivered, while the eyes blazed with the intensity of the madness which filled him. Falling upon his hands and knees, he crawled softly across the leaves and twigs as if anxious not to disturb his enemy. Then once more the rifle came to his shoulder. There was a pause ere the trigger was pressed, and then another report startled the jungle. Ere the echoes had died down the madman had sprung forward and hurled himself upon a twisted tree which he had imagined to be his victim.

It was a terrible sight to look upon, and filled Tyler and his little party with horror; for never before had it been their lot to watch the ravings of a madman bereft of his senses through fear of the consequences of his crime. It was horrible to watch, and our hero at once decided to put a stop to it.

"His weapon is empty now," he whispered to his men, "and therefore we will capture him. Separate at once and get into position. When you are ready I will give the word, and we will make a rush. Quick! for I see that he is sitting down and getting ready to ram down another charge."

Realizing the importance of haste in the matter, the tars rapidly scattered, and ere long had formed a cordon about the madman. Then, at a shout from Tyler they threw themselves upon him and made him their prisoner. His weapon was taken from him and his arms bound, for he was frantic with rage. Then the murderer, who had already suffered much for his crime, was led back through the forest, and in the course of time found his way to Singapore. But no gallows waited for him, for another form of punishment was to be his. An asylum for criminal lunatics became his home, where for years he dragged out a terrible existence. As for Tyler, satisfied at the thought that he had done what was right in the matter, he reported his arrival to his commander and waited for further orders. Nor had he long to wait, for once Paddi had been destroyed, and the pirates defeated, the expedition turned its attention to Pakoo, which was easily captured. Then came the turn of Rembas, where severe resistance was met with. But the British were not to be turned back, and in spite of the hot fire directed against them, and the numbers of the enemy, they pushed forward and took the place. Then, feeling that they had done all that was possible, they returned to Sarawak with the knowledge that a scourge had been put down, and that something more had been done to bring about the peace for which the Rajah of Sarawak strove.

For Tyler there was little merry-making, for a bullet had struck him in the elbow as he charged against the stockade at Rembas, and that same evening he had lain in an open boat, with teeth fast set, while the surgeons amputated the limb. But he had gone through so much already that this was not likely to disturb him very much. Indeed, within a month he was up and about, and ere long back at his duty.

Years have passed since then, and the lad who went down into the hold of the grain ship alone to rescue the unconscious officers, and who afterwards led a tribe of Dyaks in far-away Borneo, is an old man, who steps with far less agility than in those young days. But the old spirit is there. The white beard and moustache, with their decidedly nautical cut, cannot disguise the square chin and the firm lips. The eyes sparkle as of yore, and return a glance without flinching, while even now there is a swing in the shoulders, a poise of the head, which distinguishes Tyler. Yes, in spite of the loss of an arm, he has led a life of activity, and has only recently settled down to enjoy the remainder of his allotted years peacefully and in quietness. In his time, while on active service with the Royal Navy, he has seen much fighting, has experienced many an adventure. But it is safe to say that never has he encountered so much danger as in the old days, when fighting close to the men of the Dido and with the Dyaks of Borneo.

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—By England's Aid: or, The Freeing of the Netherlands (1585-1604). With 4 Maps.
New Edition. 3s. 6d.
"Boys know and love Mr. Henty's books of adventure, and will welcome his tale of the freeing of the Netherlands."—Athenæum.

—The Lion of the North: A Tale of Gustavus Adolphus.
New Edition. 3s. 6d.
"A clever and instructive piece of history. As boys may be trusted to read it conscientiously, they can hardly fail to be profited as well as pleased."—Times.

—The Lion of St. Mark: A Tale of Venice.
New Edition. 3s. 6d.
"Every boy should read The Lion of St. Mark."—Saturday Review.

—Both Sides the Border: A Tale of Hotspur and Glendower.
New Edition. 3s. 6d.
"Mr. Henty retains the reader's interest throughout the story, which he tells clearly and vigorously."—Daily Telegraph.

—Captain Bayley's Heir: A Tale of the Gold Fields of California.
New Edition. 3s. 6d.
"Told with that vigour which is peculiar to Mr. Henty."—Academy.

—By Pike and Dyke: A Tale of the Rise of the Dutch Republic.
New Edition. 3s. 6d.
"Told with a vividness and skill worthy of Mr. Henty at his best."—Academy.

—A Chapter of Adventures: or, Through the Bombardment of Alexandria.
New Edition. 3s. 6d.
"Their chapter of adventures is so brisk and entertaining, we could have wished it longer than it is."—Saturday Review.

—For the Temple: A Tale of the Fall of Jerusalem,
New Edition. 3s. 6d.
"Many an 'old boy', as well as the younger ones, will delight in this narrative of that awful page of history."—Church Times.

—Through the Fray: A Story of the Luddite Riots.
New Edition. 3s. 6d.
"This is one of the best of the many good books Mr. Henty has produced."—Record.

—The Young Colonists: A Tale of the Zulu and Boer Wars.
New Edition. 3s. 6d.
"It is vigorously written."—Standard.

—In Freedom's Cause: A Story of Wallace and Bruce.
New Edition. 3s. 6d.
"His tale is full of stirring action and will commend itself to boys."—Athenæum.

—The Tiger of Mysore: A Story of the War with Tippoo Saib.
New Edition. 3s. 6d.
"A thrilling tale."—Athenæum.

—At the Point of the Bayonet: A Tale of the Mahratta War. With 2 Maps.
New Edition. 3s. 6d.
"A brisk, dashing narrative."—Bookman.

—A Knight of the White Cross: A Tale of the Siege of Rhodes.
New Edition. 3s. 6d.
"Quite up to the level of Mr. Henty's former historical tales."—Saturday Review.

—When London Burned: A Story of the Restoration Times.
6s.
"A handsome volume, and boys will rejoice to possess it."—Record.

—With Roberts to Pretoria: A Tale of the South African War. With a Map.
6s.
"In this story of the South African war Mr. Henty proves once more his incontestable pre-eminence as a writer for boys."—Standard.

—Bonnie Prince Charlie: A Tale of Fontenoy and Culloden.
6s.
"A historical romance of the best quality."—Academy.

—Wulf the Saxon: A Story of the Norman Conquest.
6s.
"We may safely say that a boy may learn from it more genuine history than he will from many a tedious tome."—Spectator.

—With Kitchener in the Soudan: A Tale of Atbara and Omdurman. With 3 Maps.
6s.
"Characterized by those familiar traits which endear Mr. Henty to successive generations of schoolboys."—Pall Mall Gazette.

—With the British Legion: A Story of the Carlist Wars.
6s.
"It is a rattling story, told with verve and spirit."—Pall Mall Gazette.

—Redskin and Cow-Boy: A Tale of the Western Plains.
6s.
"A strong interest of open-air life and movement pervades the whole book."—Scotsman.

—With Buller in Natal: or, A Born Leader. With a Map.
6s.
"Just the sort of book to inspire an enterprising boy."—Army and Navy Gazette.

—By Conduct and Courage: A Story of the Days of Nelson.
6s.
"As it is the last it is good to be able to say that it shows no falling off in the veteran's vigour of style or in his happy choice of a subject."—Globe.

—With the Allies to Pekin: A story of the Relief of the Legations. With a Map.
6s.
"The author's object being to interest and amuse, it must be admitted that he has succeeded."—Guardian.

—With Lee in Virginia: A Story of the American Civil War. With 6 Maps.
6s.
"The story is a capital one and full of variety."—Times.

—A Roving Commission: or, Through the Black Insurrection of Hayti.
6s.
"May be confidently recommended to schoolboy readers."—Guardian.

—Beric the Briton: A Story of the Roman Invasion of Britain.
6s.
"One of the most spirited and well-imagined stories Mr. Henty has written."—Saturday Review.

—The Dash for Khartoum: A Tale of the Nile Expedition.
6s.
"It is literally true that the narrative never flags a moment."—Academy.

—With Wolfe in Canada: or, The Winning of a Continent.
6s.
"A moving tale of military exploit and thrilling adventure."—Daily News.

—Won by the Sword: A Tale of the Thirty Years' War.
6s.
"As fascinating as ever came from Mr. Henty's pen."—Westminster Gazette.

—In the Irish Brigade: A Tale of War in Flanders and Spain.
6s.
"A stirring book of military adventure."—Scotsman.

—The Treasure of the Incas: A Tale of Adventure in Peru. With a Map.
5s.
"The interest never flags for one moment, and the story is told with vigour."—World.

—Through Russian Snows: or, Napoleon's Retreat from Moscow.
5s.
"Very graphically told."—St. James's Gazette.

—St. George for England: A Tale of Cressy and Poitiers.
5s.
"A story of very great interest for boys."—Pall Mall Gazette.

—At Aboukir and Acre.
5s.
"For intrinsic interest and appropriateness, At Aboukir and Acre should rank high."—Spectator.

—By Sheer Pluck: A Tale of the Ashanti War.
5s.
"Written with a simple directness, force, and purity of style worthy of Defoe."—Christian Leader.

—To Herat and Cabul: A Story of the First Afghan War with Map.
5s.
"We can heartily commend it to boys, old and young."—Spectator.

—In the Heart of the Rockies: A Story of Adventure in Colorado.
5s.
"Mr. Henty is seen here at his best as an artist in lightning fiction."—Academy.

—The Bravest of the Brave: or, With Peterborough in Spain.
5s.
"Lads will read this book with pleasure and profit."—Daily Telegraph.

—For Name and Fame: or, To Cabul with Roberts.
5s.
"The book teems with spirited scenes and stirring adventures."—School Guardian.

—In the Reign of Terror: The Adventures of a Westminster Boy.
5s.
"May fairly be said to beat Mr. Henty's record."—Saturday Review.

—No Surrender! A Tale of the Rising in La Vendée.
5s.
"A vivid tale of manly struggle against oppression."—World.

—Out With Garibaldi: A Story of the Liberation of Italy.
5s.
"It is a stirring tale."—Graphic.

—Held Fast for England: A Tale of the Siege of Gibraltar.
5s.
"There is no cessation of exciting incident throughout the story."—Athenæum.

Blackie & Son's