"Is any one killed? Bah! Won't say so if he is! What about that boat,
Harry?"
"She's fast enough, messmate."
"Hah! That's right. Now then, hold hard a moment. Hear 'em aboard the
other boats?"
The question was unnecessary, for shouts and yells for help were
evidently rising from men who had swum down-stream to the sides of their
consorts, and ceased as they were dragged on board. But a low buzzing
murmur kept on, as from a couple of wildly-excited crowds.
Then a sharp shrill voice began giving orders in Spanish, one being
followed up with a pistol shot, which was succeeded by a yell and a
partial cessation of the buzz of excitement that sounded as if coming
from a swarm of human hornets.
"That was the Spanish captain's voice, I am sure," cried Rodd.
"Eight, sir," shouted Joe. "I'd swear to it. Well, he's getting part
of his dose. Oh, if it wasn't so dark! Big gun's crew!" he cried. "Is
the tackle with her?"
"Ay, ay!" came in answer, after a short bustle of movement, in which
trained men took their places.
"Here, run the rammer down her throat, my lads. She may be loaded."
There was the sound of the stout ash staff passing down the bore of the
gun, and the answer came--
"Right!"
"Good," replied Joe. "Lower down that light. We must use that--if we
fire. But we want fresh charges, and there will be no more here."
There was a quick search made, but without result, and Joe Cross stood
silent for a few moments.
"Well," cried the doctor, "why don't you send below, to the magazine?"
"Cabin hatch is closed, sir, and some of the slavers are below. This
way, my lads--cutlashes. We must have them out."
"Of course!" cried Rodd excitedly, and Morny uttered a suppressed hiss,
as he pressed forward, sword in hand.
"Yes, gentlemen," said Joe; "it's their doing, and they must chance the
crocs, for we must clear the vessel before it's broad day."
At that moment there was a crashing sound as if the cabin hatch was
being forced open, and as Joe Cross, followed by the rest, dashed aft,
there was a yell, a rush, and some eight or ten of the mongrel enemy
forced their way on deck, to be met at once by the schooner's crew, who
charged at them as men-of-war's men know how to charge.
There was a short encounter, the clash of steel against steel, and the
fresh-comers who had taken refuge below began to give way, and in a
couple of minutes more the deck was once more cleared, the splashing and
plunging of swimming men making for the rapidly dimming light of the
next schooner being followed by more blood-curdling yells and groans,
mingled with cries for help, while a few minutes later a boat could be
faintly seen and efforts were evidently being made to drag the swimmers
on board.
"Now then for the gun!" cried Joe.
"What are you going to do?" asked Rodd, who with Morny kept close to the
coxswain's side.
"Fight, sir," replied Cross fiercely, "before they begin to fight us.
See to the other guns, my lads. The way's open to the magazine now.
It'll be light directly, and that Spanish skipper won't leave us long
before he begins.--There, what did I say?"
For all at once the meaning of the Spaniards' orders, enforced by a
pistol shot, was explained by a bright flash, the roar of a heavy gun,
and the whistle of a shot just over the speaker's head.
A dead silence now fell for a few moments upon the deck of the _Maid of
Salcombe_. There was a little bustle of preparation, and then a period
of waiting, during which Joe Cross carefully sighted the loaded gun,
depressing her muzzle all he could, the two lads the while listening
excitedly to the stir and orders which came from the Spanish
three-master's deck.
"Oh, fire, Joe--fire!" whispered Rodd. "We shall have another shot from
her directly."
"Yes, my lad, I know; but I want to make sure of a little more
light.--_Fire_!" he said, directly afterwards.
A spark was seen to sink at once upon the touch-hole of the long gun,
there was a deep roar as she seemed to leap from the deck, a heavy
instantaneous crash, and then a return shot which went wide of their
schooner.
"You've hit, Joe," cried Rodd excitedly, as he stood amidst the smoke,
which began to spread about where they gathered.
"Yes, sir, I hit," said the man, with a half-laugh, as the crew of the
gun busied themselves sponging out and preparing to re-load. "They
pretty well filled her to the muzzle, but they got what they meant for
us. But hallo! what's the meaning of this 'ere? What's the matter with
us now?"
Only this, that the _Maid of Salcombe_ was adrift and threatening, if
something were not done to bring her up, to drift ashore not far from
where the faint morning light revealed the brig lying right over on her
side as helpless as any hulk.
Joe Cross, closely followed by the lads, ran forward to the bows, Rodd
one side, Joe and Morny the other.
"Why, the cable must have broke adrift," cried the coxswain, leaning
over, to see that the great rope was hanging down straight from the
starboard hawse-hole.
"Cut, Joe, cut," shouted Rodd. "Quick! Look out!" For as he had
leaned over the bulwarks just above the larboard hawse-hole, a great
swarthy mulatto, knife in hand, was climbing up, and as soon as he
caught sight of the lad he made for him at once.
Rodd stood upon his guard and managed to strike aside the thrust made at
him by the mulatto; but the latter was lithe and active as a monkey. He
struck at the boy again, and as Rodd gave way the fellow threw himself
on to the rail and sprang over, but only to be cut down by Joe Cross,
who had answered the boy's call.
It was the saving of Rodd's life, but the mulatto was dangerous still,
and recovering himself he made a dash at Morny, who stepped aside,
while, with all the ferociousness of a Malay running amok, the man
sprang aft, avoided two or three cuts made at him by the sailors, and
then plunged over the side, to begin swimming towards the three-master,
which was in the act of sending another shot at the doctor's vessel.
This one crashed through the bulwarks, sending the splinters flying in
all directions, and making the coxswain shout to his men to stand firm,
as, seeing their perilous position, he hurried to their help, for the
big schooner had slipped her cable, a sail had been run up, and she was
beginning to answer her helm, while the _Maid of Salcombe_ was drifting
helplessly towards the shore.
It was a choice between hoisting sail and letting go another anchor
while the chance was there, as the two vessels forged slowly ahead
preparing to send in another shot.
This latter in his excitement Joe Cross essayed to do, striking their
enemy just at the water-line as she passed them, while now the slaver's
sister craft began firing as she too, hoisting sail, was coming
up-stream.
"Ah!" panted the sailor, as he turned to Uncle Paul. "Here's your
peaceful schooner, sir, as trades in palm-oil! Why, they are pirates
and slavers, sir, and I've done it now. Too late, my lads--too late!"
he cried to the men, who had let go the other anchor. "Nothing can save
us now. We are going ashore."
"Oh, don't give up, man," cried the doctor angrily.
"I won't, sir. None of us will; but--There, I said as much. We just
touched bottom then. There she goes again! And in another minute we
shall be fast in the mud, and they'll have nothing to do but powder away
at us till we are a wreck. Slew that there gun round, boys, and let's
give her another shot or two while there's a chance."
"No, no," cried Rodd. "Not at that! Fire at the other. Can't you see,
Joe? Uncle! Morny! The three-master's going down!"
It was quite true, for the first shot from the _Maid of Salcombe_, that
sent from the long gun, crammed as Joe had said almost to the muzzle,
had torn into the slaver just below water-line. The second had been
just as effective in its aim, the water had been pouring in ever since,
and now, as she was evidently settling down by the head, her guns were
forsaken, all discipline was at an end, and her crew had made a rush for
the boats, which were soon after overcrowded and being pushed off by
their occupants to make for the third schooner. This last, fairly well
managed, came slowly on, firing from time to time at the English craft,
which, had now swung round upon her heel and lay bowsprit to the shore
in a falling tide.
As far as was possible her guns were slewed round, and a steady reply to
the enemy's fire was kept up; but her doom seemed to be sealed, the
Spaniard being able to choose her own position, while minute by minute
the English vessel was getting more helpless.
"Well, gentlemen, what's it to be?" said Joe, as he stood coolly wiping
the blackened perspiration from his forehead.
"Keep on firing to the last," said the doctor sternly. "Better die like
men than surrender and be murdered, for after what has passed there can
be no mercy here."
"That's right, sir," said the man, "but there's the young gentlemen, and
we don't any of us want to die if we can help it."
"Why, you are not beaten, are you, Joe?" cried Rodd fiercely.
"Not a bit of it, sir, but here's our schooner, and there's Mr Morny's
brig. It's no use to make an ugly face over a nasty dose. We are
beaten, and nothing that we could do could keep that slaver from seeing
that she's won."
"Go on firing, and sink her," cried Rodd. "Look at the other one," and
he pointed to the three-master, whose decks looked as if they were
awash.
"Well, sir, that's what we have been trying to do; but she won't sink.
How so be, here goes, my lad, for another try, and--What's the meaning
of that?"
For all at once through the smoke that rose from the schooner they could
see that something fresh had taken place--what, they could not make out,
but it was something important, and one of the enemy's smaller guns was
fired in the other direction.
"Why, there must be help coming from down the river," cried the doctor
excitedly. "Yes, hark at that!"
For in reply to the schooner's gun a desultory series of musket shots
began to ring out, and encouraged by this and the knowledge that help
must be at hand, the little English crew sent forth a cheer, dragged the
long gun more and more round, and sent one of the most successful shots
they had fired crash into the enemy's stern.
To the astonishment of all, the firing on board the enemy ceased;
another sail was run up, and as it filled the schooner swung round upon
another tack and began to sail steadily down the river, clearing the way
for those on board the English vessel to see a couple of well-manned
boats being rowed steadily up-stream, with men in the stern-sheets
keeping up a musketry fire.
"Quick!" shouted Moray. "Another shot! Friends! Friends!"
"Yes, sir," said Joe quietly, "but I don't see how it's to be done.
Yes, we might do it from a little gun;" and he ran with a part of the
crew to try and slew her round.
"No good, gentlemen," he said. "By the time we can get a shot off we
shall risk hitting those boats, whatever they are, and they are coming
to our help. Here, hasn't anybody got a glass?"
"No," cried Rodd; "it was left in the boat."
"Well, there's one in the cabin. Here, one of you run down."
"No, no," cried Morny excitedly; "they're our boats. Look! That's my
father in one," he cried hysterically.
"And if that aren't our old man in the other my name aren't Joe Cross!"