DEATH OF MIGUEL.
Ned turned to us suddenly, and I thought there was a wild look in his
eyes. The beads of perspiration clustered thick on his forehead, and
his cheeks were burning.
“We’ll escape ’em yet!” he cried in excited tones, which nevertheless
had a ring of triumph in them. “Let’s swim out to the boat, scramble on
board, and take possession of her!”
Here was an audacious idea with a vengeance!
“It’s all very fine to say ‘scramble on board,’” exclaimed Mr. Triggs;
“but do you suppose the negroes will allow us calmly to do such a
thing? Why, they’ll knock us on the head the instant we get alongside.”
“There’s no time to argify!” cried Ned in loud emphatic tones. “If we
stay here to fight it out with those swabs in our rear, we’ll all be
killed to a dead sartinly or taken prisoners. There are eight of ’em
at least, and all armed to the teeth.”
“Right you are then,” answered the gunner; “let’s take to the water.
’Tis a desperate venture, but you may depend upon me to back you up
through thick and thin.”
“Can you swim?” asked Ned, turning hurriedly to me.
“Yes, very well,” I answered.
The boat was slowly approaching the shore, being now distant about
fifty yards or so. It would have been easy for her to land, for there
was not much surf.
The pirates were redoubling their efforts to catch us up; though I do
not suppose that it entered their heads for a moment that we were about
to put into execution any such desperate plan as that proposed by Ned
Burton.
We had halted for a brief moment on the margin of the waves. The
pirates were now of course bearing swiftly down on us. There were
eight or ten of them altogether, and they were near enough for me to
see the expression of gratified revenge which was overspreading their
countenances as they felt the conviction that their prey was at length
within their grasp.
But there is many a slip between the cup and the lip.
“We must chuck away our weapons!” shouted Ned; “but I’m blest if I
don’t empty my barrel fust.” And so saying he hurriedly dropped on one
knee, and levelling his piece with the utmost coolness and precision
fired.
Truly sped the bullet. Miguel gave one spasmodic leap into the air, and
then fell with a thud on the sands—a lifeless corpse.
I had already thrown my pistol into the sea, stripped off my jacket,
and got rid of my shoes. The gunner had done the same.
Ned rose swiftly to his feet without a word, and we all rushed into the
water with the utmost celerity.
The fiendish yells to which our pursuers gave vent on seeing Miguel
fall beggar description; and they were renewed again and again as they
saw that we were trying to evade them by swimming out to the boat.
One or two of their number opened fire upon us as soon as they could
collect themselves sufficiently; and the others shouted in a warning
manner to the negroes in the boat, evidently directing their attention
to our _ruse_, and ordering them to repel any attempt we might make on
their craft.
The bullets, fortunately, did not hit us, for we were already in deep
water, and a very small portion of our persons was visible to the
marksmen.
What we had to dread was a hostile attitude on the part of the negroes;
and already I saw that the latter had ceased rowing, and were standing
up in the boat brandishing their long paddles. In their belts I fancied
I detected knives. As Ned had prophesied, the bulky form occupying
the stern-sheets was that of the negress we had formerly seen at the
shanty, so there was little doubt as to the identity of the two oarsmen.
As the shore shelved rapidly, we very soon got out of our depth, and
began to swim vigorously in the direction of the boat. The latter had
not yet lost her way, and was gliding slowly toward us. I think, too,
that the tide must have been ebbing, for it appeared to me that we
cleft the waters at a great pace.
The negroes looked very determined as we approached, and I now saw that
one of them had a pistol in one hand and his paddle in the other.
A volley from the shore was now fired at us by the enemy. Some bullets
whistled over our heads and splashed into the water ahead of us, one or
two of them very nearly striking the boat.
I glanced fearfully over my shoulder in the direction of the shore,
and saw that the pirates were reloading their rifles. None of them
had attempted to follow us into the sea, much to my surprise. Either
they could not swim, or they thought it less trouble to rely on the
co-operation of the negroes, to whom they continued to yell orders in
loud and threatening tones.
When we got within easy speaking distance, Mr. Triggs addressed the
negroes in English.
“If you take us on board, Johnny,” he said, “and convey us safely away
from the island, we’ll give you fifty pounds.”
Ned also jabbered something to them in his smattering of Spanish, as he
thought they might be ignorant of English.
Meanwhile we did not relax our efforts to gain the boat’s side.
I saw the negro who was grasping the pistol begin to slowly raise his
arm. Both men looked savage and determined. The fat negress still sat
in the stern-sheets with a bewildered expression on her bloated face
and her blubber lips widely parted.
My heart sank within me, and I was beginning to feel terribly fatigued.
A scrimmage on board the boat would be, I felt, quite beyond my
powers. It was a question whether I should even have sufficient
strength left to clamber on board. Even the negress could easily
keep me at bay if she chose. I knew that. But as yet she showed no
disposition to join in the impending fray.
“Look out! the swab’s going to shoot,” came from Ned in warning tones.
The next moment a dart of flame issued from the boat, and a bullet
whizzed away harmlessly somewhere.
In spite of my rapidly failing powers, I could not help giving a shout
of astonishment, for I had particularly noticed that the negro had
deliberately aimed _a long way above our heads_.
The mystery was quickly solved. The negro leaned forward, and in a
vile lingo of broken English told us that he and his mate were willing
to save us, but that they must pretend to defend their boat from our
attack, and that we must go through the pantomime of capturing it and
utterly defeating them.
At first we were all suspicious that this was a trap, but the negroes
assured us that they would not hurt a hair of our heads, and implored
us to scramble on board as quickly as possible, as they were just as
eager to leave the island as we were.
What a blessed relief it was to hear this, and moreover to find that it
was a _bonâ fide_ and genuine _ruse_ on the negroes’ part! Never in our
wildest dreams had we expected such good-fortune as this.
The sham fight was really carried out admirably. The negroes _and
the negress_ kept up a really awful succession of war-cries as they
rushed from one side to the other—at the imminent risk of capsizing
the boat—brandishing their paddles, and bringing them down with
resounding blows upon the gunwale, varying this procedure with firing
an occasional pistol, and making imaginary stabs with knives.
If I had not felt so done up, I should have enjoyed the fun.
At length we had scrambled in over the gunwale, and after a short
and apparently desperate encounter, had worsted the negroes, who
lay shamming death in the bottom of the boat; whilst old “Mother
Bunch,” clasping her pickaninny to her breast, had fallen back in the
stern-sheets in an apparently fainting condition.
The pirates seemed crazy at the turn affairs had taken. Some of them
rushed into the sea and began swimming out in our direction, whilst
others opened a withering fire upon us.
Mr. Triggs and Ned, chuckling to themselves, seized the oars, and
commenced pulling the boat out to sea. It was out of my power to assist
them.