Then a second plan occurred to Oliver, and making a sign to Drew that he
should deliver the blow, he softly laid down his gun and reached forward
to seize one ankle, and suddenly drag the man back.
Drew took a fresh hold of the barrel of his piece, and raised the butt
to strike, as Oliver's hands hovered within a few inches of the man's
ankles.
"I shall have to charnsh it, that I shall!"
The two young men stood as if paralysed, and it was some moments before
Oliver could whisper huskily,--
"Smith!"
The feet were snatched out of sight in an instant, there was a loud
rustling, and then a face was thrust out of the bamboos above where the
man's feet had been, and just as a bellowing roar came from the mountain
and the earth trembled beneath their feet.
"Why, gentlemen; you?" whispered Smith, for it was indeed he.
"Yes: we thought you were on board the lugger, and nearly killed you."
"Then that was a narrow squeak, gentlemen. And I've been thinking as I
was going to be baked instead. I was on my way with the guns, when I
ketches sight of a drove of these here ugly black pigs, and they chevied
me, but, fortunately, I'd got a good start, and run in among the trees,
where, somehow or other, they couldn't find me, and at last they give it
up, and here have I been tryin' to crawl within reach of the brig, so as
to make a run for it, and get aboard."
"Our plan, too, Smith. We were on our way," said Oliver, "when we saw
your toes."
"And I was going to kill you for a savage, when you spoke," whispered
Drew.
"Then I'm glad I did speak, sir. My old dad used to say it was a bad
habit to think aloud, but it don't seem to be so arter all."
"We can't do better than creep on," said Drew.
"Yes, and now's our time," said Oliver, excitedly, for a loud shouting
was heard, and on peering through the waving bamboos, they could see a
party of about a hundred of the blacks coming down from the sea, while
those who were on the other side of the brig started off running to meet
them.
"Quick, all together!" cried Oliver, and flat on their faces, and
crawling whenever there was no cover, the three began to make their way
toward the vessel, reaching patch after patch of bush unseen in the
excitement--the blacks' attention being so much taken off--till the
shed, and then the heaps of wood were reached.
"Now for it!" whispered Oliver. "Jump up and run!"
His order was obeyed, and their sudden appearance was as startling to
Panton, and the crew of the _Planet_, as to the blacks who were now a
couple of hundred yards on the other side, but who now ran back, yelling
furiously.
"Quick, ropes, and haul us up!" shouted Oliver, and a terribly long
space of time elapsed, or seemed to, before three ropes were cast over
the bulwarks, and seized.
"Haul away!" roared Smith, "or they'll have us, lads!" and it was a very
close shave, for, as they were run up, the savages reached the brig's
side, and seizing the ropes, began to drag, expecting to pull the
fugitives down.
But by this time they had seized the bulwarks, and as a spear and club
were thrown, swung themselves over on to the deck, to help in a kind of
game of French and English, ending by their jerking the ropes out of the
blacks' hands, and sending them to the right about, with a volley from
the ready guns.
"My dear boys," cried Panton, wringing his friends' hands as soon as he
was at liberty. "I was afraid I was left in the lurch."
"Why?" said Oliver.
"No, no, I mean that you were all killed. Where's Mr Rimmer?--don't
say he's dead."
"I would almost rather have to say so," said Oliver, "for he seems to
have forsaken us."
"Gone?"
"Yes; in the lugger, and run for it."
"To get help, or come back in the dark to help us."
"That's what I want to think," said Oliver, "but it is so hard to do so,
after what I have seen."
"Never mind that now," cried Panton, excitedly. "The niggers are
reinforced--so are we, though, thank goodness--and before long they'll
make a big attack. We've had two or three little ones, with no
particular luck on either side. Ready to fight?"
"Of course."
"Then take a station, and mind this, we can't afford to show mercy.
It's war to the knife, our lives or theirs."
They soon had abundant evidence that this was to be the case, for before
they had much time to think, there was a loud yelling and the brig was
surrounded by a gesticulating mob of savages, who advanced, sending
their arrows sharply against the sides of the vessel, shaking their war
clubs, and making fierce darts with their spears wherever they imagined
a white to be crouched.
This went on for an hour or two, and as no real danger threatened so
long as they did not attempt to scale the sides, the firing was
withheld, and Panton and his lieutenant, Oliver Lane, contented
themselves with finishing the elaborate arrangements made against attack
by the mate with a plan or two of their own, which consisted in filling
some small preserved fish tins with powder, adding a piece of fuse, and
keeping them ready for lighting when the right moment came.
It came long before evening, for at last, satisfied that they would not
be able to frighten the defenders of the brig into a surrender, the
blacks made a furious attack, crowding to one side more especially, and
trying to scale the bulwarks.
And now, as the arrows came in a shower over the attacking party's
heads, firing became general, and watching their opportunity just as
matters were getting very critical, the place of every man shot down
being taken by a dozen more, Oliver and Panton both held the ends of the
fuses they had prepared to the candle in a lantern. They saw that they
were well alight, and then, as calmly as if there were no danger
whatever of the contents exploding, bore them to the side, with the men
shrinking away, and cast them over, right into the most crowded part of
the attack.
A fierce yelling followed, and in place of running away, the poor
ignorant wretches crowded round these strange-looking missiles which had
been sent into their midst.
The next minute there was a terrific roar, followed almost directly by
another which seemed to shake the ship, and then a complete stampede,
the blacks who were uninjured helping their wounded comrades off to the
shelter of the forest, and leaving many dead behind.
"Saved!" cried Panton. "They won't face that again."
"Yes, they will," said Oliver sadly. "Depend upon it, this is only a
temporary scare."
"Then we'll get ready some more for them. I'm growing bloodthirsty now,
and we'll defend the brig to the last."
The men cheered at this, and watched with interest the making of fresh
shells, but the afternoon wore on and evening came without a sign of a
black, and at last hopes began to be entertained that the enemy had
fled, so they all partook of a hearty meal.
"It's the darkness I dread," said Oliver, soon after sundown, as he and
his friends stood together watching all around, and now and then
mistaking shadows for coming enemies.
It must have been two hours after dark, though, before there was any
fresh cause for alarm, and it arrived just as Panton had confidentially
said,--
"Some of us may sleep, for there'll be no attack to-night."
"Beg pardon, Mr Oliver Lane, sir," said a voice at their elbow.
"Yes, what is it?"
"Billy Wriggs, sir. Ever since he had that swim in the black cavern,
his hyes has been like your little glasses. Here, Billy, tell the gents
just what you says you see."
"'Undred niggers a crawlin' along like harnts, sir, each one with a big
faggit on his back, and if they arn't a comin' to burn us out, I'm a
Dutchman."