It was, quite, for the rustling behind seemed to be terribly near, and
it was with a feeling of intense relief that the lad felt his arm
pressed, and fell into step with his officer, who directly after cried
"Haiti" in a low, stern voice, and formed his men in line, before giving
the orders: "Make ready! Fire!"
Quite time, for spears and bullets crossed, the former in a curve, the
latter direct, and drawing from the enemy yells of mingled defiance,
rage and pain.
"That's give it 'em, sir," whispered Tom May, who was close to Murray,
and he made his rifle hiss as he rammed down a fresh cartridge.
"Any one hurt?" asked the lieutenant, in a low, eager tone.
"I got a spear a-sticking in me, sir," said one of the men, in the same
subdued tone of voice, "but I can't say as it hurts."
"Let me see," said Murray excitedly, and he stepped to where the man was
standing tugging at himself instead of following his comrades' example
and reloading.
"Don't think you can see, sir! it's so smoky. Would you mind ketching
hold here and giving a good pull?"
As the man spoke, the midshipman did as he was requested, so far as to
take hold of the shaft of a spear. But there he stopped short, his
imagination suggesting consequences to which he gave voice in a
strangely unnatural tone.
"I daren't draw it out," he said. "It may be wrong to do so."
"But I can't march with a thing like that all wibble wobble at every
step, sir."
"Then you must be helped, my lad," said Murray hastily. "If I draw it
out the wound may burst out bleeding."
"Think so, sir?"
"Yes. You must be helped back till the doctor has seen to you."
"Here, what is it?" said a familiar voice out of the gloom.
"Titely has a spear through his shoulder, sir."
"Tut, tut, tut! Here, let me look."
"Oh, never mind me, sir," said the injured man; "it don't hurt much,
on'y feels like a scratch; but it's orfly in the way."
"Who's this?" asked the lieutenant.
"Murray, sir."
"Let me see. Yes: right through, evidently."
"He wants it drawn out, sir," said the midshipman, and he was holding up
the spear-shaft where he stood facing the injured man; "but it would be
dangerous to meddle with it, wouldn't it, sir?"
"Yes, certainly," said the lieutenant. "He must be helped back. What's
that?"
"More spears, sir," growled Tom May, as there was the whizz and thud of
the missiles once more.
"Present! Fire!" said the lieutenant sharply; and a fresh volley was
fired, with the result of a rush of feet being plainly heard from the
enemy, now in full retreat.
"Keep silence, my lads," said the lieutenant, who had been waiting till
the thudding of the ramrods came to an end and denoted that the little
party was once more ready to deliver fire.
Silence ensued, save where Murray stood half supporting the wounded man.
"Here, give it a good pull, Mr Murray, sir," whispered the man. "I'll
hold a couple o' plugs ready for you to stop the bleeding."
"No, no, my man; you must be patient," whispered Murray sympathetically.
"But I can't be patient, sir. You don't know what it means."
"Does it pain you so much?"
"No, sir; not so werry much. I can bear it well enough, but it makes me
feel as if I'd got a skewer through me."
"Silence there," said the lieutenant.
"It's all very fine," muttered the man; and then, leaning towards
Murray, "Say, sir, these here niggers on the coast are cannibals, aren't
they?"
"Yes, some of them, I believe," whispered back the midshipman.
"Don't leave me behind, then," said the man softly, and he uttered a low
chuckling laugh. "I don't want 'em to come upon me and find a fellow
skewered and trussed ready for cooking."
"Can't you keep that man quiet, Mr Murray?" said the lieutenant
angrily, and he came up to where the pair stood together. "It's like
telling the enemy where to throw again, for they are wonderfully quick
of hearing."
"I am trying, sir," whispered the midshipman, "but I wish you would
place your hand here."
"Place your hand there, Mr Murray!" said the officer, in a voice full
of vexation. "I have no time to feel the poor fellow's wound."
"But it isn't quite that, sir," said the lad. "I can't help thinking--"
"Think, then, sir, but don't bother me."
"I can't help it, sir," whispered the lad excitedly.
"What do you mean, Mr Murray?" said the officer, alarmed by the lad's
excitement. "Don't say you are wounded too?"
"No, sir, and I don't think that Titely has got anything worse than a
scratch."
"Eh?"
"Feel here, sir. The spear has gone right through the bandolier and his
shirt from the front and gone out through the shirt and bandolier at the
back, running all up a bit."
"Well, but what about the poor fellow's flesh and bone?" said the
officer excitedly.
"I think it's only gone through the skin, sir."
"Yes, that's right," said the man. "I telled Mr Murray, sir, as I
didn't think I should bleed much if he pulled the skewer out."
"We must wait for daylight, my lad--till the smoke lifts. Ah, what are
you doing?"
"On'y wiggling the spear a little, sir," replied the man gruffly. "Just
give a tug at it. Does hurt a bit. I seem to have teared some'at.
There, I knowed it! You try, Mr Murray, sir; you can lift it like now,
and--yes, that's it. I'm a-shoving it back'ards and for'ards, and it
moves the cross-belt and my shirt, and nothing else."
"But, my good fellow--" began the officer.
"It's all right, sir. I've shoved my hand right under my shirt and over
my shoulder. It's just bleeding a little, but--well, it's about the
humbuggin'est humbug of a wound I ever knowed a chap to have. Here, Mr
Murray sir, you ketch hold of my cross-belt fore and aft, and if his
honour wouldn't mind giving the spear a haul through the belt I shall be
as right as can be."
The two officers obeyed the man's request and stood holding spear and
belt, but hesitated to proceed farther.
"That hurt, my lad?" said the lieutenant.
"Hurt, sir? Not a bit. On'y feels preciously in the way."
"Got hold tightly, Mr Murray?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then, now then."
It took more than one good tug, but after the first tentative trial,
which seemed to cause the man no suffering, the first lieutenant pulled
hard, and at last drew the spear right through the two pierced portions
of the tough buff leather.
"That's your sort, gentlemen," said the man. "Here, who's got my
musket?"
"Steady, my lad," said the lieutenant. "Now, then, do you feel faint?"
"Orfle, sir, inside," said the man, "but I want a drink o' water worst."
"But are you in pain?" asked Murray.
"Smarts a bit, but it don't hardly bleed at all. I'm all right, sir,
only tickles enough to make a chap a bit savage. Here, don't you worry
about me, sir. I'm as fit as a fiddle, gentlemen, and I on'y want now
to play the niggers such a toon as'll make them jump again."
"Hah!" ejaculated the lieutenant. "Only a bit of a false alarm, Mr
Murray."
"Thankye, sir. Yes, that's right. Does me good to grip my musket
again."
"Then try and use it, Titely," said the midshipman, "for here they come
again.--Yes, May; we hear them."
The lieutenant's command was given directly after, and again a volley
rang out, this time to check the enemy's advance and drive them back so
thoroughly that the silence was once more intense; and as the party
stood with strained ears, listening, Murray uttered an exclamation.
"What is it, Mr Murray?"
"Firing, sir. I heard shots."
"Are you sure?"
"I heerd it too, sir," said the injured man.
"Attention there!" said the lieutenant sharply.
"One, two, and three from the left make ready. Present--Fire!"
The three shots rang out like one, and directly after they were replied
to, the reports sounding faintly enough but perfectly distinguishable
through the distance.
The lieutenant waited while twenty could be counted, and then ordered
the men to fire again. This drew forth a reply, and so evidently from
the same direction that the order was given for the party to march; but
directly after the lieutenant called _Halt_, for from behind them and
quite plainly from the direction they were leaving, came the deep-toned
_thud_ of a heavy gun.