The Fuegans, however, had no intention of giving up their attack. When Matt vanished below the conning-tower hatch, they divined instantly that he was afraid of their arrows. He could be no god of the ocean's depths if a Fuegan arrow frightened him. Reasoning in this primitive fashion, the savages gave vent to loud cries and urged their canoes toward the submarine from all sides.
With an armor of steel between him and the arrows, Matt could laugh at the puny efforts of the Fuegans to do any harm. With his eyes at the lunettes, he guided the _Grampus_ toward the outlet of the bay.
The savage ardor of the Fuegans increased as they saw the monster apparently running away. Closer and closer they drew their circle of boats, two in each small craft using the paddles and the other two continuing to discharge their arrows. The canoes on the side toward which the submarine was making did not give way an inch, but continued to come boldly on. Two warriors in each leaped to their feet and hurled taunts at the frightened leviathan, letting their arrows fly directly against the bow. In a few moments the _Grampus_ was upon one of these canoes, staving it in and tossing its splintered pieces to right and left.
Four Fuegans were in the water. They were canoe Indians, however, and as much at home in the water as on dry land. Swimming away, they were picked up by some of their comrades in the other canoes.
Meanwhile, three canoes had managed to come alongside. Some of their occupants clambered to the deck of the _Grampus_ and began stabbing at the plates with the points of their arrows. Fearing they might come to the tower and damage the lunettes, Matt ordered a ten-foot submergence.
As the submarine began to sink, the Fuegans flung themselves from the deck--and that was the last Matt saw of them.
"Take the wheel below, Glennie," called the young motorist. "We'll travel a short distance submerged and see if we can't leave those troublesome little fellows behind."
Glennie went to his work and Matt descended. Ten minutes later the _Grampus_ again sought the surface, and a look from the conning tower showed that the savages had been left out of sight around a point of land.
"Here is our course, Glennie," said Matt, laying a chart on the periscope table, and running his finger along the route they were to take; "through the first and second narrows, and so on to Cape Negro. I've got to leave you to do the steering for a time while I open the door and release Clackett and Speake. One of those two Chilians got away with the key, and, for all the good it can do us, it might as well be in the bottom of the ocean."