LIVELY WHILE IT LASTED.
Really, it seemed as though the Fates were against us in this
adventure, since we had to fight most desperately for every small
advantage gained.
I had, it may be remembered, more than once fervently longed for some
opportunity to prove my valor in the sight of this doubting little
woman, so that she might realize how she had wronged me in the past;
perhaps it was a childish desire, but a most natural one withal, such
as most men would feel under similar conditions.
But, really, I had not expected such a deluge of desperate conditions
to overwhelm us, even as the avalanche does the unlucky traveler on the
Swiss Alps.
One may even have too much of a good thing.
At least, I thought so when I heard that miserable oar snap, and found
the boats of our enemies swooping down upon us.
Robbins made no further effort to escape.
He was like a lion at bay.
I heard him give a roar of rage as he snatched up the boathook and
threw its barbed end aloft.
Just as might have been expected, the two boats came up, one on either
side, as if the whole thing had been previously arranged.
My first thought was of Hildegarde, fearing she might receive some
injury in the _mêlée_ that was imminent, and surely that feeling did me
credit.
“Lie down in the bottom of the boat--quick!”
Now, I could distinctly remember the time, since it was not so far
back, when she had absolutely defied my lawful authority, and blankly
refused to heed my request.
Not so now, for she seemed to recognize that in this case I not only
knew what might be right, but was also in a position to command.
So she crouched down, with the terrified child clasped in her arms,
while we two desperate men prepared to put up the best fight we knew
how.
And, strangely enough, in that second of time, when there was a
breathing space before the arrival of the boats, my strained ears
caught a sound that thrilled me with renewed hope--it was the distinct
“chug-chug-chug” of a little naphtha engine, and I knew that the launch
had set out from the yacht and was bearing down upon us.
If we could only resist this savage attack for a few moments, we were
saved.
“Keep back--keep back!” I shouted, as I stood up in the stern and
waved my pistol, for I wanted no man’s blood on my hands, if it could
possibly be avoided.
Perhaps they understood, for they laughed derisively and pulled wildly
on.
It was time to begin.
I had the sole power of bridging the little distance still separating
the boats, but which the rapid pace with which they advanced was
quickly annihilating.
Again my long practice with a pistol served me a good turn.
My first shot was all right.
I had picked out the fellow who leaned over the bow, like a gaunt
harpy, eager to lay hold as they came up and to fasten the boats
together, while his companions smothered us with very numbers.
He made quite a fuss over the matter; really, you might have thought he
was the recipient of a cannon ball somewhere about his anatomy, instead
of a tiny leaden pill.
I knew he was not much to be feared in the coming encounter, and turned
to present my further compliments to the fellow who dangled from the
bow of the other boat.
Jove! he had a pistol, too, and even as I looked that way, it flashed
fire, while the angry bellow rang over the water.
How lucky for us that he had never made it his hobby to do target
practice some thousands of times like myself, else would the bullet
have found better service than to whistle past our ears, and go
ricochetting over the water beyond.
That settled him.
I considered him too dangerous an individual to lose sight
of--doubtless, his weapon still contained five shots, and if he kept
on blazing away in this reckless manner, who could tell but that one
bullet might, by some wonderful accident, do us serious damage.
Such things have happened.
As soon as I had covered this individual, I felt a grim satisfaction,
for I knew his name was Dennis, and that he was my game.
He proved to be even more averse to taking his medicine than my first
patient, for he floundered around in the boat, whooping it up like a
wild Yaqui Indian, and threatened to bring the whole outfit to grief;
realizing which, one of the rowers knocked him overboard, and the
fellow at the stern dragged him in again, doubtless somewhat cooled by
his immersion.
Brief though the time had been which was consumed in this little
comedy, or tragedy, as you please, it was enough to bring the boats
alongside.
Robbins saw his chance with the boathook to keep one of them at arm’s
length, so to speak.
He planted it solidly against the bow of the boat, and effectually
blocked its progress, while moving our own craft a little.
This gave me a chance at the other.
There were three fellows besides the cripple.
They saw me crouching there, waiting like a Nemesis for them, and the
sight was not at all to their liking.
A couple of them began to yelp dismally, like a dog that sees his
finish when the irate master draws near, whip in hand.
Cowards at heart, they would have fled the spot if given a chance; but
the battle was now on, and even rats at bay are to be feared.
The third fellow proved to have more sand, for he made a wicked lunge
at me with his oar, and only that I threw up my left arm, I must have
received a blow on the cranium that, following the first, might have
done for me entirely.
As it was, I would have a sore arm for some time to come, and might
thank my lucky stars that it had not been broken, for he made a vicious
blow.
Thankful for past favors, I returned him a Roland for his Oliver, for I
fired when he was only five feet from the muzzle of my pistol, and it
did not require target practice then to bring down my bird.
Instead of shooting the other two howling dervishes in the boat, I bent
over, seized an oar from the craft, and then gave the latter a vigorous
push that sent it far off.
Thus had I, single handed, gained the mastery over one of the hostile
boats.
Robbins needed help. He was embroiled in a desperate hand-to-hand
struggle with the other chaps.
Probably they had seized upon his boathook and drawn alongside in that
way; I do not know just how it was done, but when I turned, after my
successful little crusade, I found the whole three were reaching out
for the mate, and threatening to come aboard.
The captured oar was in my hands, and surely I knew only too well what
misery it was capable of producing when properly applied.
My stout ashen weapon, as I expected, served to create a diversion
among the ranks of the enemy.
The first man who sampled its qualities went down in the bottom of the
boat in a heap, to mingle his groans and swear words with the fellow
who sat wildly feeling here and there over the whole surface of his
anatomy, endeavoring to discover where my bullet had lodged.
I think there must have been magic in the ashen blade, it seemed to so
promptly cure the maniac qualities of all to whom it was applied, so
that they underwent an instantaneous change, and became almost angels.
That left two. Surely, we could manage them.
Robbins was giving one some severe treatment when I turned my batteries
on the remaining chap.
This time I merely planted the end of my oar against the pit of his
stomach, and then applied some strength in a sudden shove. He staggered
back, tripped over a thwart, or the two moaning fellows in the bottom
of the boat, and measured his length there with a most ominous crash.
So successful had been this method of attack that I persisted in
applying it; when you have a good thing, it is wise to push it along.
I managed this time to get the oar against the side of the boat, upon
which I worked with such earnestness of purpose that it was pushed away
from the craft we occupied.
And this brought about another unlucky _contretemps_ for the enemy.
Robbins had a grip on the last of them, and seemed loath to let go
until he found he was dragging the chap over the side; then, when he
did release his clutch, the fellow having no hold on either boat, fell
between them into the tide.
This was the last of the Mohicans--the coast seemed clear, though the
third boat, heavily laden, was coming up with a rush.
We did not mean to wait for them.
For my part, I had had quite enough of the scramble, and longed to rest
my aching head on a pillow.
At once I passed the captured oar into Robbins’ hands, and he dropped
back into his seat.
Then, as we began to move again, I noticed the crouching figures in the
bottom of the boat, and my heart filled with pity. I cried:
“Have no further fear, Hildegarde. We are safe!”