"Tell me the truth. That was a poisoned arrow, was it not?"
"How should I know?" said the mate, roughly. "It was an arrow; I've
taken it out, bathed the wound, and what you have to do, is to lie
still, and not worry yourself into a fever by fancying all kinds of
horrors."
"But these men poison their arrows, do they not?"
"People say so," said the mate, bluffly, "but it doesn't follow that
they do. Now, then, I've got to attend to Mr Lane. You've had your
turn."
He bent down over Oliver, and began to remove the bandage which Smith
had passed round the upper part of the young man's left arm.
"Thank goodness it isn't in the body," said the mate. "I thought it was
at first."
"No, sir," said Smith. "He was all wet about his chest, and I thought
he'd got it somewhere there, but it's a nice, neat hole right through
his arm, and here's the bullet which tumbled out of the sleeve of his
jacket."
He handed the little piece of lead to the mate, who took it quickly,
held it to the lamp and then drawing his breath sharply between his
teeth, he slipped the bullet into his pocket before slitting up Oliver's
sleeve, and examining a couple of ruddy orifices in the upper part of
his arm.
"Hurt you much, sir?" he said, cheerfully.
"Hurt?" cried Oliver, angrily. "Why, it throbs and stings horribly."
"So I s'pose. But you mustn't think that this is poisoned. No fear of
that."
"I did not think so," said Oliver, shortly. "I wish I knew who it was
that fired at me."
"Well," said the mate, drily, as he bathed the two wounds where the
bullet had entered and passed out right through the thickest part of the
arm, carefully using fresh water and sponge, "I don't think that would
help the places to heal."
"No--ah! you hurt! Mr Rimmer, what are you doing?"
"I was trying to find out whether the bone was injured."
"Is it broken?" said Oliver, who was wincing with pain.
"No, the bullet never touched it, sir. There's only a nice clean tunnel
through your flesh to heal up."
"Nice clean tunnel, indeed!" said Oliver, whose deadly faintness was
giving way to irritability, caused by the sharp pain. "I only, as I
said before, wish I knew who shot me. How could a man be so stupid?"
"Well, I'll tell you," said the mate, as he softly dried the wounds.
"If people come rushing out of a fog in company with a lot of yelling
savages, they can't expect other people to know the difference. The
fact is, my lad, I fired that shot, for it was a bullet out of the
captain's gun."
"You, Mr Rimmer!"
"Yes, my lad, and I'm very thankful."
"What, that you shot me?"
"Yes, through the arm instead of through the chest, for I couldn't have
doctored you then."
"I say! Oh! What are you doing?" cried Oliver.
"That's right, have a rousing shout if it will do you good, my lad,"
said the mate, whose fingers were busy. "But that's right, don't
shrink," he continued as he went on with his task, which was that of
plugging the two mouths of the wound with lint--
"Hallo! What is it?"
A sailor's head had appeared inside the cabin door.
"Mr Drew says, sir, as the savages are coming back, and would you like
to come on deck?"
"Yes, of course," said the mate hastily. "Go and tell him I'm coming."
"Yes, sir."
The man disappeared, and the mate turned to Smith.
"Here," he said, "carefully and tightly bind up Mr Lane's arm, so that
the plugs cannot come out."
"Me, sir? Don't you want me to come and fight?"
"I want you to obey orders," said the mate, sharply. "There, you will
not hurt, Mr Lane; and as for you, Mr Panton, don't let imagination
get the better of you, sir. I'll come down again as soon as I can."
"You won't hurt, sir," said Smith, with rough sympathy, as he took up
the bandage and examined the injured arm by the light of the lamp. "But
he can. All very fine for him to say that, after ramming in a couple o'
pellets just as if he was loading an elder-wood pop-gun. Look here,
sir, shall I take 'em out again?"
"No, no," said Oliver, trying hard to bear the acute pain he suffered,
patiently.
"But they must hurt you 'orrid, and he won't know when the bandage is
on."
"Tie up my arm, man," said Oliver, shortly. "It is quite right. That's
better--Tighter.--No, no, I can't bear it. Yes: that will do. How are
you getting on, Panton?"
"Badly. Feel as if someone was boring a hole in my shoulder with a red
hot poker."
"So do I," said Oliver; "and as if he had got quite through, and was
leaving the poker in to burn the hole bigger."
"Serve you right."
"Why?"
"You were always torturing some poor creature, sticking pins through it
to `set it up' as you call it."
"But not alive. I always poisoned them first."
"Worse and worse," said Panton, trying hard to preserve his calmness,
and to master the horror always to the front in his thoughts, by
speaking lightly. "That's what I believe they have done to me, but
they've failed to get me as a specimen."
"Haw, haw, haw!" laughed Smith.
"Quiet, sir!" cried Oliver. "What have you got to laugh at?"
"Beg pardon," said the man, passing his hand across his mouth, as if the
laugh required wiping away, "but it seemed so comic for the natives to
be trying to get a spessermen of an English gent, to keep stuffed as a
cur'osity."
"Ah, they wouldn't have done that, Smith, my lad. More likely to have
rolled me up in leaves to bake in one of their stone ovens, and then
have a feast."
"Well, they aren't got yer, sir, and they sha'n't have yer, if me and
Billy Wriggs can stop it."
"God bless you both, my lads," said Panton huskily. "You stood by me
very bravely."
"Oh, I don't know, sir," said Smith bashfully. "People as is out
together, whether they're gents or only common sailors, is mates yer
know for the time, and has to stand by one another in a scrimmage. Did
one's dooty like, and I dessay I could do it again, better than what I'm
a doing here. My poor old mother never thought I should come to be a
'orspittle nuss. Like a drink a' water, sir?"
"Yes, please, my mouth's terribly dry."
Smith looked round, but there was no water in the cabin, and he went out
to get some from the breaker on deck, but he had not reached halfway to
the tub, before there was a sharp recommencement of the firing, and he
knew by the yelling that the savages were making a fresh attack.
The sailor forgot all about the wounded in the cabin, and running right
forward, he seized a capstan bar for a weapon, and then went to the side
waiting to help and repel the attack, if any of the enemy managed to
reach the deck.
But evidently somewhat daunted by the firearms and the injuries
inflicted upon several of their party, the savages did not come too
near, but stood drawing their bows from time to time, and sending their
arrows up in the air, so that they might fall nearly perpendicularly
upon the deck. Many times over the men had hairbreadth escapes from
arrows which fell with a sharp whistling sound, and stuck quivering in
the boards, while the mate made the crew hold their fire.
"Firing at them is no good," he said, "or they would have stopped away
after the first volleys. Let them shoot instead and waste their arrows.
They'll soon get tired of that game. So long as they don't hurt us,
it's of no consequence. All we want, is for them to leave us alone."
"But it does not seem as if they would do that," said Drew, to whom he
was speaking.
"Well, then, if they will not, we must give them another lesson, and
another if it comes to that. We're all right now in our bit of a fort,
but it seems queer to be in command of a ship that will not--Hah! Look
at that!" he cried, stooping to pull from the deck an arrow which had
just fallen with a whizz. "You may as well keep some of these and take
'em home for curiosities, sir. There's no trickery or deceit about
them. They were not made for trade purposes, but for fighting."
"And are they poisoned?" said Drew anxiously.
"Best policy is to say no they are not, sir. We don't want to frighten
Mr Panton into the belief that he has been wounded by one, for if he
does, he'll get worse and worse and die of the fancy; whereas, after the
spirits are kept up, even if the arrow points have been dipped into
something nasty, he may fight the trouble down and get well again. I
say, take it that they are not poisoned and let's keep to that, for many
a man has before now died from imagination. Why, bless me! if the men
got to think that the savages' weapons were poisonous, every fellow who
got a scratch would take to his bunk, and we should have no end of
trouble."
"I suppose so," said Drew. "But tell me, what do you think of my
companions' wounds?"
"Well, speaking as a man who has been at sea twenty years, and has
helped to do a good deal of doctoring with sticking plaster and medicine
chest--for men often get hurt and make themselves ill--I should say as
they've both got nasty troublesome wounds which will pain them a bit for
weeks to come, but that there's nothing in them to fidget about. Young
hearty out-door-living fellows like yourselves have good flesh, and if
it's wounded it soon heals up again."
"Yes, I suppose so."
"Of course, sir: when you're young you soon come right. It's when you
are getting old, and fidget and worry about your health, that you get
better slowly. Hah! there's another stuck up in the mainsail. That
won't hurt anybody."
"But tell me, Mr Rimmer, when did the savages come and attack you?"
"I was going to ask you to tell me why you were all so long. I was just
thinking of coming in search of you, expecting to find that you'd gone
down some hole or broken your necks, when one of the men came running up
from where he had been fishing in that nearest pool--for the crocs and
things have left a few fish swimming about still. Up he comes to the
gangway shouting,--`Mr Rimmer, Mr Rimmer, here they are,' he says.
`Good job too,' says I. `Are they all here?' `Quick, quick,' he says.
`Get out the guns,' and looking half wild with fear, he began to shut up
the gangway and to yell for some one to help him pull up the ladder. I
thought he was mad, and I caught hold of him as the men came running up.
`Here, young fellow,' I says, `what's the matter with you; have you got
sunstroke?' `No, sir,' he says, `but one of their poisoned arrows
whizzed by my ear. Don't you understand? I was fishing and I'd just
hooked a big one when a croc seized it, and nearly dragged me into the
water. Then, all at once, I looked up and let go of the line, for there
was a whole gang of nearly naked black fellows, with their heads all
fuzzed out, and spears and bows and arrows in their hands. They were a
long way off on the other side of the pool, but they saw me, and began
to run as fast as ever they could, and so did I.'"
"Enough to make him," said Drew.
"Yes, and it didn't want any telling, for the perspiration was streaming
down his face, his hair sticking to his forehead, and you could see his
heart pumping away and rising and falling. Next minute we could see the
rascals stealing up looking at the brig as if they expected to see it
come sailing down upon them; but as soon as they made sure it was not
going to move, they came shouting and dancing round us, and in the
boldest way tried to climb on board."
"Well?" said Drew, for the mate stopped.
"Well? I call it ill, sir."
"But what did you do then?"
"Oh! the game began then, of course. I told the men to tell them that
nobody came on board except by invitation; but they didn't like it and
insisted upon coming."
"But could they understand English?"
"No, not a word."
"Then how could you tell them?"
"Oh! that was easy enough," said the mate with a droll look. "I made
the men tell them with capstan bars, and as soon as a black head
appeared above the bulwarks it went down again. I didn't want to fire
upon the poor ignorant wretches, who seemed to have an idea that the
brig was their prize, and that everyone was to give way to them, for
they came swarming up, over fifty of them, throwing and darting their
spears at us, and shooting arrows, so I was obliged to give them a
lesson."
"Have you killed any?" said Drew.
"Not yet. I found that hitting their thick heads was no good, so I
served out some swan shot cartridges, and sent a lot of them back rather
sore."
"It checked them, then?"
"Yes, for a time, while we ran up that canvas and cleared away
everything that made it easy for them to swarm up over the bulwarks.
But they're so active that one's never safe."
"Hark! what's that?" cried Drew. "Someone called `help!'"
"It came from the cabin. Come along."
"Who's there?" said Drew.
"I left Smith with them, but he's here," panted the mate, as he passed
the sailor, who was hurrying back horrified by the cry he had heard.
They were just in time to see the cabin window blocked up by black
heads, whose owners were trying to force their way in, while a couple of
fierce-looking wretches had their clubs raised as if about to dash out
the brains of the two injured passengers.
There was no time to take aim. The mate and Drew both drew trigger as
they entered the cabin, when there was a savage yelling, the place
filled with smoke. Then as it rose, Oliver Lane and Panton could be
seen lying half fainting upon the cabin floor, and the open cabin window
was vacant.
"The brutes!" cried Drew, running to the window to lean out and fire the
second barrel of his piece at a group of the Papuans.
"Mind!" roared the mate, as Drew passed him, but his warning was not
heeded in the excitement. The need, though, was evident, for the young
man shrank away startled and horrified as half a dozen arrows came with
a whizz and stuck here and there in the woodwork, and two in the
ceiling, while a spear struck off his cap, and then fell and stuck with
a loud thud in the cabin floor, not a couple of inches from one of
Oliver Lane's legs.
"Hurt?" cried the mate, excitedly.
"Yes--no--I can't tell," said Drew, whose hands trembled as he reloaded
his gun.
"But you must know," cried the mate, seizing his arm and gazing at him
searchingly.
"No: I don't know," said Drew. "Something touched me, but I don't feel
anything now. I am certain, though: I am not wounded."
"For heaven's sake be careful, man!" cried the mate. "We have shelter
here and must make use of it. We are regularly besieged, and how long
it will last it is impossible to say."
As he spoke he dragged the little narrow mattress out of a bunk, and,
signing to Drew to take hold of one end, they raised it and placed it
across the window to act as a screen, while Mr Rimmer thrust out one
arm, got hold of a rope, and drew up the dead-light which was struck
several times before he got it perfectly secure.
"Oh, you're there, Smith," he said, turning to the sailor, who, now
feeling very penitent, was down on one knee holding a panikin of water
to Oliver Lane's lips. "How came you to leave the cabin, and with that
window open?"
"I didn't, sir. Window was shut fast enough when I left it, and I only
went for some water for the gentlemen to drink."
"And nearly sent them to their graves?" cried the mate.
"Will you come on deck, sir, please?" cried one of the men, who had come
to the cabin door with his face looking drawn and scared.
"Yes. What is it?" said the mate.
"There's a lot more on 'em just come up, sir, and we think they're going
to rush us now."
"Yes. Come on, Mr Drew. You, too, Smith. Quick, they're attacking."
For there was a terrific yelling, and the sound indicated that it must
come from quite a crowd.
They rushed on deck and none too soon, for, at the first glance Drew
obtained, he could see that the savages had surrounded the brig, and
that many of them bore small palm trunk poles whose purpose was evident
the next moment, for a dozen men rushed forward and laid them from the
earth to the bulwarks, sinking down directly to clasp the little trees
with their arms while as many of their companions leaped up, took as
high a hold as they could, and then began to swarm up toward the deck.
"It's all over now," muttered Drew, and he took aim at a man who seemed
to be the leader.