THE RESCUE
Returning to the cave, Mr. McKay awoke the lads and hurriedly explained
the nature of the threatened attack.
"We must quit this shelter and keep in the open as long as we possibly
can," said he. "A long-range fire may keep them at bay. Only as a
last resource must we return to the cave."
Barely had the defenders left the cavern than they were assailed from
above by a shower of stones and spears. Several of the savages had
taken up a position on the summit of the cliff overhanging the mouth of
the white men's retreat, so as to make the advance of the main body
easier.
Thrown into confusion by this unlooked-for attack, the four defenders
fled headlong for the cave they had just left, narrowly escaping the
falling missiles. Then, finding that the jutting rocks protected them
so long as they kept close to the base of the cliff, the wearied men
plucked up courage, and opened fire upon the dense masses of the
natives as they advanced rapidly with their burdens.
Many of the savages fell, but others immediately took up their loads,
and working from cover to cover with admirable cunning the natives came
within throwing distance of their spears.
The rifle-fire, hot as it was, was unable to stop the fan-like
formation of the crafty warriors, and, assailed by stones and spears,
the defenders were once more compelled to retire to the cave.
Repeated repulses had taught the natives caution, and without risking
themselves by appearing in front of the death-dealing tunnel, they
thrust their bundles of wood and grass into the mouth of the cave by
means of long poles. Then a torch was flung upon the heap of
inflammable material, and the next instant it burst into flames.
"Throw some water on it," grasped Terence, as the heat began to take
effect.
"Useless," replied Mr. McKay. "It would only cause more smoke," and
lifting a case of ammunition he rushed towards the blazing pile.
"Lie down!" he ordered sharply, as he regained his comrades.
Crouched in the remotest part of the cave, they awaited the explosion.
Then with a roar, followed by a series of minor reports, the cartridges
exploded, filling the cave with pungent fumes.
As the last detonation ended, Mr. McKay leapt to his feet, and,
revolver in hand, dashed through the scattered and still burning
embers. His companions followed his example, and gained the open.
Even as they drank in the deliciously cool air they were compelled to
resume the unequal combat, though the savages, alarmed by the explosion
and the sudden appearance of their foes, gave back in terror.
Edging along the base of the cliff, for the darts and stones still
descended, regardless of friend or foe, the defenders blazed away at
their enemies, till the latter recovered from their fright and returned
to the attack.
Not till they were in grave danger of being cut off did Mr. McKay and
his companions return to the cave once more to endure the torments of
the smoke-laden atmosphere.
This time the savages did not leave them in peace. With poised weapons
the wily warriors waited on either side of the entrance, while others
descended from the terrace and procured fresh fuel.
Splashing their faces with water, and fanning the noxious fumes with
portions of their clothes, the defenders strove to cool their parched
and heated bodies, realising that another half-hour would doubtless see
the end of the unequal struggle.
"I'm not going to be smoked out like a rat in a hole," exclaimed
Ellerton. "I'll make a dash for it and die in the open."
"It's the only way," replied Mr. McKay. "If we are to die we must die
like Britons, fighting to the last."
Hardly had the forlorn party made this desperate decision, when a sharp
ear-splitting explosion, followed almost immediately by another, was
heard without the cave. Yells of terror and noisy surprise arose, and
the savages fled right and left.
For a moment the defenders were unable to grasp the meaning of the
interruption, till Andy shouted: "Hurrah! A rescue!" and overcome by
mental and bodily strain, he fell on the floor in a swoon.
Terence and Ellerton were about to rush to the mouth of the cave, but
Mr. McKay restrained them.
"Lie down!" he exclaimed. "They're firing with shell, and we shall be
blown to atoms if we go outside."
It was, to a certain extent, unfortunate that the inhabitants of
McKay's Island were unable to observe the means by which they were so
opportunely rescued from what appeared to be a terrible and remorseless
fate.
While the preparations for the smoking-out of the still-resisting white
men were in progress, H.M.S. _Blazer_ was steaming straight for the
island.
Unnoticed by the natives, she gained the entrance to the lagoon, the
leadsmen in the chains, and the decks cleared for action.
The alert commander had already observed the smouldering ruins of what
was obviously at no remote time a civilised settlement, and the shouts
of the desperate savages told him that resistance was still being made.
H.M.S. _Blazer_ was but a third-class cruiser, mainly engaged in
surveying duties in the Pacific. Her armament consisted of two
4.7-inch guns, one mounted fore and aft, six twelve-pounders, and ten
Maxims, and these were amply sufficient for the work in hand.
Rounding to in seven fathoms, and less than three hundred yards from
the scene of the desperate encounter, the _Blazer_ opened fire. Her
commander had noted the actual locality of the defenders' retreat, and
carefully avoiding the spot for fear of harming friend as well as foe,
he had a couple of shells planted in the fringe of the attacking
natives.
Those two shells were sufficient. Madly the survivors fled along the
terrace in the direction of the defile leading to the ulterior, and as
they ran they were subjected to a raking fire by the quick-firers and
Maxims, till only a small remnant gained the shelter of the palm-groves.
"Man and arm boats!" came the order.
But ere the landing-party gained the shore, not a living savage was to
be seen. Panic-stricken they fled to the far side of the island, where
they embarked in their canoes.
"We're too late, it seems," remarked the lieutenant in charge, as he
gazed upon the devastated scene.
"Those brutes were running from up yonder, sir," observed a
petty-officer, pointing towards the upper terrace. "Maybe there's
someone up there among the rocks."
"Party, fall in!" ordered the officer, and giving the word to march, he
led the way over the open ground, which was littered by the victims of
the _Blazer's_ fire.
"Strike me; wot's this?" ejaculated the petty-officer, as four battered
specimens of humanity appeared above the crest of a rise of ground and
floundered painfully towards their rescuers, who gave them a hearty
cheer.
"We were certainly in the nick of time," remarked Commander Bulwark,
as, five hours later, Mr. McKay and the three lads were seated in the
_Blazer's_ wardroom. "We received a telegraphic message from Tahiti
while we were lying off Suva, to the effect that a French trader
reported that she had communicated with British castaways; but was
unable, owing to the high seas that were running, to render assistance.
So we came at full speed, and, I am glad to say, with fortunate
results. We are leaving here to-morrow for Sydney. I suppose you
don't object to being landed there?"
"By no means," replied Mr. McKay. "I think we've had enough of the
island to last us a lifetime."
In a few words Mr. McKay told the commander of the finding of the
treasure, and how it was hidden under the floor of the house.
"Treasure, eh? Well, you're lucky in more than one way. There are
plenty of islands in the Pacific where treasure is supposed to be
hidden. We usually regard these stories as a myth, but you've
evidently proved that such things do exist. Let me congratulate you
once again. I'll send ashore at once."
Before nightfall the treasure chests were conveyed safely on board the
cruiser.
The bluejackets also placed a pile of stones over the grave of the
brave mulatto, a simple inscription setting forth his name and the
manner of his death; while for the benefit of possible future
castaways, a paper giving particulars of the stores deposited in the
treasure cave was placed in an air-tight case and lashed to a post in a
conspicuous position on the shore.
Shortly after daybreak on the following day Mr. McKay and the three
lads watched from the poop of the _Blazer_ the rapidly receding land
which for so many months had been their home; and in silence they stood
gazing with wistful eyes till the summit of the peak of McKay's Island
sank beneath the horizon.
THE END
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End of Project Gutenberg's The Nameless Island, by Percy F. Westerman