The night passed on board the steamer without any alarm, and at daybreak
steam was up, and with the men at their quarters and every gun loaded,
they set off on their return journey.
As the lieutenant said, it was no use to murmur about their misfortune;
all they could do was to try and make the best of matters by getting
back as soon as possible.
He could gladly have gone on at full speed, but caution forbad it.
There were mudbanks and turns innumerable; and even going slowly, the
length of the vessel was so great that again and again they were nearly
aground upon some shoal, or brushed the overhanging trees with their
bows.
Of one thing the lieutenant felt certain--that they had not been led
into this narrow river without some plans being made for keeping them
there. Therefore every man was on the alert for an ambush, or something
that should stop their further progress towards the mouth of the
sluggish stream.
It was terribly slow work, and Lieutenant Johnson stamped with
impatience as he saw how poorly they progressed, speaking snappishly to
Bob Roberts when the latter ventured upon some observation.
This went on three or four times, when, feeling hurt by a sharp remark
on the lieutenant's part, Bob exclaimed,--
"You needn't be so hard upon me, captain; it was not my fault."
Lieutenant Johnson turned upon him angrily, and was about to say
something severe, but Bob's injured look disarmed him, and he held out
his hand.
"I'm hipped, Roberts," he said, and hardly know what I say. "Steady,
there; steady!"
This to the man at the wheel as they were rounding a point; but the
order had a contrary effect to what was intended; it flurried and
unsteadied the sailor, who took a pull too much at the spokes, and
before anything could be done to check the steamer's speed, her sharp
bows had cut deeply into the muddy bank of the river, and she was
aground.
"Was anything ever so unlucky?" cried the lieutenant; and then he gave
order after order. Guns were swung round so as to sweep the bows should
the Malays try to board them from the shore; the engines were reversed;
the men tramped from side to side of the deck; everything possible was
done: but the steamer remained fixed in the mud without a possibility
apparently of getting her off.
The jungle was of the densest all around, and the men approached the
bows with caution, for the head of the steamer was right in amidst dense
foliage, and it was quite probable that any number of the enemy might be
concealed and ready to hurl spears at the slightest chance.
Neither seeing nor hearing signs of the enemy, the lieutenant at last
ordered Roberts to try and land and see if the Malays were near. "It's
a risky job, Roberts," he said kindly, "but you must take it. I cannot
leave the steamer."
"Oh, I'll take it," said Bob, coolly, and examining his revolver, he
drew his sword, and telling the men to follow, ran forward, scrambled
over the bows, and leaped ashore, the men imitating his example, for the
bank was only some six or eight feet below the bulwarks.
But though they were landed, there was little more to be done, unless
they had been provided with billhooks to clear the way. The undergrowth
was nearly as dense as a hedge, and after trying in half-a-dozen
different ways, and only penetrating some twenty or thirty yards, they
were obliged to give up, drenched with perspiration, their flesh full of
thorns.
"I've got something biting my legs horribly," cried Bob, turning up his
trousers, and then giving a shudder of disgust, for half-a-dozen leeches
were busy at work making a meal upon him, and several of the sailors
were in the same predicament.
"There, my lads, we may as well get on board," said Bob, grimly, "I
don't like shedding my blood in the service of my country after this
fashion. We can do nothing here, and it would puzzle a cat--let alone a
Malay--to get through."
So they returned on board, satisfied that there was no fear of an attack
from that quarter, and the rest of the day was devoted to trying to get
the steamer out of her unpleasant predicament.
Night fell with the men utterly wearied out, and, in despair, Lieutenant
Johnson was taking himself to task for his bad management, as he termed
it, when Bob Roberts suddenly seized him by the arm.
"What is it, Roberts?"
"A shot off yonder in the jungle," he exclaimed.
"I did not hear it," was the reply; and they stood listening; but there
was nothing but the hum of insects and the distant splash of some
reptile in the muddy river.
"If we could have only heard some news of those poor fellows, I would
not have cared," said the lieutenant after a pause. "Perhaps at this
time they are anxiously hoping that help may come, and wondering why we
have not sent in search of them; while we, with men and guns, are lying
here helpless as a log. Oh, Roberts, it's enough to make a man jump
overboard and--"
"There it is again," cried Bob.
"What?"
"A shot!" he cried excitedly. "I'm sure I heard a rifle-shot."
"Any of you men hear a shot?" said the lieutenant to the watch.
"No, sir; no, sir."
"I heard nothing, Roberts," said the lieutenant. "You are excited with
exertion. Go below and have a glass of sherry, my lad, and put in a
dose of quinine. I can't afford to have you down with fever."
"No, thanky," said Bob; "I could manage the glass of wine, but I'm not
going to spoil it with the quinine, I'm--There now, what's that? If
that isn't a rifle-shot I'm no man."
"Then it isn't a rifle-shot," said the lieutenant, grimly. "I heard
nothing."
"Beg pardon, sir, I think it was a shot."
"There's another!" cried Bob, excitedly. "It's our fellows somewhere."
There were a couple of distant shots, faintly heard now by all.
"You're right, Roberts," said the lieutenant, hastily; "but it is not
obliged to be our fellows."
"They couldn't have followed up from the island, sir," cried Bob; "so it
must be."
"Unless it is a party of Malays shooting."
"Then they are shooting our men," cried Bob. "They wouldn't be hunting
when it's getting dark."
"There's another shot," said the lieutenant, now growing as excited as
his companion. "What shall we do?"
"Fire a big gun," said Bob.
"That would be letting our enemies know where we are," said the
lieutenant.
"Well," said Bob, sturdily, "let 'em know. It will show 'em that we are
not afraid of them."
"You are right, Roberts," said lieutenant Johnson, quickly. "Unshot the
bow gun there."
The gun was opened; the shot cartridge drawn out, a blank one
substituted; and directly after, the black darkness that had seemed to
settle down over them was cut by a vivid flash, and the utter silence
that was brooding over the river was broken by the deep-mouthed roar of
the great breech-loading cannon.
The report seemed to roll off into the distance and echo amongst the
mountains; and then, as it died away, they all listened with strained
senses for some reply.
It came, just as they expected--three rifle-shots in succession. Then a
pause, and three more rifle-shots.
There was a pause then, and the silence seemed awful, for the report of
the great gun had driven every living thing near at hand to its lair.
"Three marines," said the lieutenant, sharply, "fire as I give the
order. One--two--three!"
The three shots rang out at stated intervals, and the men reloaded and
fired as before.
Then they waited again, and the signal was answered in a peculiar way
that left no doubt whatever in the minds of those on board, and a murmur
of satisfaction ran through the little crew.
And now, for the first time, Lieutenant Johnson began to wonder whether
he had doubted the Malay guide without cause. He might have been swept
overboard after all, and the hunting-party be really hemmed-in at some
stockade.
A few moments' consideration, however, showed that this could not be the
case, for they had journeyed back many miles before the steamer ran
aground; and though the river winded a great deal, it was impossible
that the stockade could have been higher up. The firing certainly came
from quite another direction, away from the river; and shots that were
evidently not signals were now heard again--one or two, then three or
four together, as if men were skirmishing, and then came several
volleys.
There was a fight going on, that was evident; and as the two officers
realised this, they felt half-maddened at their helplessness.
They wanted to go to the aid of those who were fighting, but it would
have been utter madness to have attempted to land with a detachment in
the dark and try to hack a way through the jungle. They might have
fired signals and had them responded to, but it would have been a
helpless, bewildering piece of folly; and with pulses beating rapidly
with excitement, and every nerve on the stretch, they felt themselves
bound to a state of inaction, still they felt that they could fire
signals to guide those who might, perhaps, get nearer, or, if shut in
some place, fight the better for knowing that help was so near.
They did all they could, sending up a rocket from time to time, and
twice, at intervals of about an hour, firing a big gun, each signal
eliciting a reply from the distance; and then, at intervals of ten
minutes, a rifle was fired, while, when six, seven, and eight bells were
sounded, the same number of rifle-shots were heard.
It was a night of general watching on board the steamer, no man seeking
shelter, though about seven bells the rain began to pour down with all
the violence of a storm in the tropics, accompanied by thunder and
lightning of the heaviest and most vivid description.
For about four hours this kept on, guns being fired in the intervals,
when the thunder ceased for a few moments; but no answering shots had
been heard for some time.
One thing was very evident--the party engaged were entrenched somewhere,
and defending themselves, for their answering shots had been no nearer;
in fact, all felt that travelling through the dense jungle was
impossible until daylight set in.
The night was about half gone when the storm ceased as suddenly as it
had come on; the clouds were dispersed, and the moon shone out clearly,
showing them that the sluggish river was sluggish no longer, but running
fast, and threatening to fill up to the top of its high banks, the water
coming down evidently from the mountains.
This revived the hopes of all on board, and not without reason, for the
steamer was gradually shifting her position; and hardly had a boat been
lowered, and a hawser made fast to one of the big trees ashore, before
she lifted more and more; and in a few moments more, to the delight of
all, they felt the branches sweeping the rigging, and the steamer moving
free and clear.
The men, forgetting discipline, and the need perhaps for silence, gave
an involuntary cheer; which ceased on the instant as, from somewhere
lower down the stream, there came a faint, "Ship ahoy!"
"Ahoy!" was answered.
And after a brief colloquy a boat was lowered down, with half-a-dozen
marines as well as the crew, Bob Roberts taking command, and cautiously
steering her towards where the man who hailed seemed to be.
The boat was allowed to descend the stream stern foremost, the men
dipping their oars occasionally to keep her head right, and to prevent
her being swept down too swiftly.
The next minute, at the word, they gave away, and the cutter was run in
beneath the branches to where one of the crew stood in the moonlight,
with a soldier by his side.
"Why, it's Parker!" cried Bob, catching the man's hand.
"Parker it is, Mr Roberts, sir," said the man faintly. "I thought we
should never have done it, what with the storm and the thick cane.
We've about cut our way here."
"And the captain and Major Sandars?" cried Bob.
"'Bout a mile away, sir, through the jungle, wanting help badly."
"Can we get there to-night?" cried Bob. "But jump in my lads, and we'll
hear what the lieutenant says. Come: why don't you jump in?"
"I'm bet out, sir, and my mate too," said the sailor. "We're a bit
wounded, sir. We volunteered to come for help when we first heerd the
dear old `Startler' speak out, but it's been a long job. Will you help
us aboard, mates?"
Half-a-dozen willing hands soon had the two poor, drenched, wounded, and
exhausted men on board the cutter, and five minutes after they were on
the deck being questioned by the lieutenant.
"I told the captain, sir, as I'd ask you to fire two guns if we got here
safe. He's down with fever, sir, and it would cheer him up if he heard
the old gal say--begging your pardon--as she was close at hand."
The word was given, and a couple of heavy roars from the "old gal," as
the sailor affectionately called his ship, bore the news to the captain;
and then, in answer to the lieutenant, both of the messengers declared
that it would be impossible to get to the helpless party that night.
"I wouldn't say so, sir, if I didn't feel," said Parker, "that the lads
would only go losing theirselves in the wet jungle, and do no good. If
you'd start at daybreak, sir, and take plenty of rum and biscuits, as
well as powder and shot, you might get them aboard."
Then by slow degrees those on board learned from the worn-out messengers
the whole of their experience, and how that since Major Sandars had
appealed to the men, and they had sworn to stick together to the last,
they had only made journeys of about a mile in length through the dense
jungle. The guide was still delirious, and half the men down with
sickness or wounds. Food they had had of the most meagre description,
and that principally the birds they had shot. Their ammunition was fast
failing, and the time seemed to have come that evening to lie down and
die, so weak were they, and so pertinacious were the attacks of the
enemy--when a thrill of joy ran through every breast as they heard the
signal shots, and knew that there was help at hand.