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A SAILOR BOY WITH DEWEY.

Sea, which rolled and glistened like molten gold in the bright sunlight. Far away two sails were visible, mere specks upon the horizon. At the beach the breakers rolled and broke, sending the white spume almost up to the roots of the palms that fringed the sand. From the point we occupied the mouth of the river where the Dart lay was concealed from view.

"Nothing of interest in that direction," observed Dawson, and turned carefully to take a look inland. Soon he uttered a cry of astonishment.

"What do you see?" I queried.

"What do I see?" he repeated. "Hang me if I don't see about the biggest battle on record!"

"A battle?" I cried, and turned among the branches to get a view myself.

"Yes, a battle. Don't you hear the guns?" I listened, and sure enough from a great distance I heard the crack and roll of musketry. At first I could not locate the sounds, but presently saw the thin white smoke ascending from a valley far to our east, a valley hedged in between two tall mountains.

"Can you make out who is fighting?" I asked, straining my eyes to the utmost.

"It looks to me like soldiers on one side and natives on the other," answered the first mate.