If ever I was active it was at that moment. I struck out with my
clenched fists, throwing all the power I possessed into my blows, and
fortunately for me--a mere boy in the grasp of a heavily-built man--he
was comparatively, powerless from loss of blood consequent upon his
wounds, so that I was able to wrest myself free, and stand erect.
At that moment the corporal recovered the lantern, and held it up,
showing that fully half the prisoners had left the spots where they were
crouching the minute before, and were making an effort to join in the
fray initiated by one of the savages of whom we had been warned.
It is all very horrible to write of, but I am telling a simple story in
this log of what takes place in warfare, when men of our army and navy
contend with the uncivilised enemies of other lands. In this case we
were encountering a gang of bloodthirsty wretches, whose whole career
had been one of rapine and destruction. The desire seemed to be innate
to kill, and this man, a prisoner, who since he had been taken had
received nothing but kindness and attention, had been patiently watching
for the opportunity which came at last. Just as Mr Reardon was
stooping to attend to his fellow-prisoner, he had made a tremendous
cat-like bound, driving me sidewise as he alighted on Mr Reardon's
back, making at the same time a would-be deadly stroke with a small
knife he had managed to keep hidden in the folds of his cotton jacket.
As I rose up I could see the knife sticking in the lieutenant's
shoulder, apparently driven sidewise into his neck, while he was
standing with his eyes dilated, looking in horror at his assailant, who
now lay back, quivering in the agonies of death, literally pinned down
to the deck.
My brain swam, and for a few moments everything looked misty, but that
horrid sight forced itself upon me, and I felt as if I must stare hard
at the pirate, where he lay bayoneted and held down at the end of the
rifle by the strong arms of the marine sentry, who was pressing with all
his might upon the stock.
The struggling went on for a few moments, then grew less and less
violent, while a low hissing sound came from the prisoners around. Then
the quivering entirely ceased, and the marine gave his bayonet a twist,
and dragged it out of the wretch's chest, throwing himself back into
position to strike again, should it be necessary. But the last breath
had passed the pirate's lips; and, while the sentry drew back to his
place by one side of the door and stood ready, his comrade fell back to
the other, and the corporal and the fourth man seized the pirate, and
rapidly drew him forth through the doorway; we followed, the place was
closed and fastened, and I stood panting, as if I had been running hard,
and could not recover my breath.
The next moment I was clinging to Mr Reardon, trying to hold him up,
but he misinterpreted my action, and seized and gave me a rough shake.
"Don't, boy," he cried in an angry, excited tone. "Stand up; be a man."
"Yes, yes," I gasped; "but quick, corporal! never mind--that wretch--
run--the doctor--fetch Mr Price."
"Bah!" cried Mr Reardon roughly, and trying to hide his own agitation,
"the man's dead."