Commodore Junk Part 27

These two had taken advantage of the man being wounded to back rapidly toward the boat, lying in the shallow water; but the sand was heavy, and they had to face the enemy all the time. For the latter came at them with stubborn determination, reached them while they were a good twenty yards from the water, and a fierce fight ensued.

It was as brief as it was hot and determined, for, after a few moments'

fencing, the second sailor delivered a deadly thrust, at Abel; while the princ.i.p.al man, a st.u.r.dy, tall fellow, crossed weapons with Bart, whose slight bamboo lance was a feeble defence against the bayonet at the end of the musket. Moreover, the fugitives were fighting with the disadvantage of being seen now by the well-armed party returning from the hunt. These had received warning that something was wrong by hearing the shots, and were now running rapidly down toward the sandy sh.o.r.e.

"Now," said the second sailor, presenting his piece, which was opposed to one minus the bayonet blade--"now I have you. Surrender!"

For answer Abel stepped back, clubbed his weapon, swung it round, and brought it down with such violence that the b.u.t.t struck the other musket full upon the stock, and dashed it from its holder's hand.

Before Abel could get another blow round, the man had dashed in, closed with him, and, to Jack's agony, capture seemed certain.

Meantime the first sailor had made several fierce pa.s.ses at Bart, who was scratched once upon the wrist, and had drawn blood on the other side, when his bamboo lance broke, and he seemed at the mercy of his antagonist.

Heavy as he was, Bart was activity itself, and reversing the encounter going on between the other two, he avoided a thrust by striking the bayonet aside with his arm, and closed with his adversary.

The two locked together in a desperate struggle directly, for the sailor abandoned his musket as soon as Bart was at close quarters, and gripped him round the waist.

"I'll have you, anyhow," he panted, as he lifted Bart from the ground.

"Let go, or I'll crush in your ribs," growled Bart, savagely.

"Do it, mate," retorted the sailor, swinging Bart round, and trying to throw him; but he might as well have tried to throw off his arms. Then by a desperate wrench Bart loosened the other's grip, so that he could touch ground once more, and the struggle went on like some desperate bout in wrestling.

These encounters were matters of a minute or so; but to Jack and Dinny, standing knee deep in the water holding the boat ready for the escape, and the oars where they could be seized in an instant, the minute seemed an hour. They would have gone to the help of their comrades, but it seemed to them that they would be cutting off the means of escape; and in addition, the various phases of the fight succeeded each other so rapidly that there was hardly time to think.

"Give me that shtick," cried Dinny at last; and he s.n.a.t.c.hed one from where it lay upon the thwarts of the boat, just as Abel sent his adversary down half-stunned and turned to help Bart.

"Quick, lad! Hold still a moment!" cried Abel, as the overseer came running down from the head of the bay, in company with the officer and half a dozen men.

The words were wasted, for Bart and the first sailor were writhing and twining on the sands like two wild beasts. Bart strove hard to shake himself free; but the effort was vain, for the sailor had fastened on him like a bull-dog, and held on with a tenacity that could not be mastered.

"It's of no use," panted Bart, as Dinny ran up. For the enemy were not two hundred yards away, and running fast. "Escape, my lads! Never mind me!"

"Let me get one hit at him," cried Dinny.

"Ah, would you, Paddy!" roared the sailor, wresting Bart round as a shield. "I know you."

"Now, you!" cried Dinny to Abel.

But it was like striving to hit a twining serpent upon the head, and strive how they would, Bart's friends could do nothing till the pair had struggled together to the very edge of the water, and then went splashing in.

"Get his head down, Bart, and he'll soon let go."

Easier said than done. The sailor had his arms well about his adversary, and Bart's effort was vain.

"Surrender, there!" shouted the overseer. "Give up, or we'll fire!"

"Let go, or I'll smash you," growled Bart, as he caught sight of the enemy coming on.

For answer the sailor clung the more tightly; and as Bart rose to his knee after a fall, the water was now well up to their middles.

"Here, boat, Jack, lad!" cried Dinny. "Now, captain, lay howlt!"

Abel grasped his meaning, and seized one side of the human knot, composed of two bodies and the customary complement of arms and legs, while Dinny caught the other, and together they trailed it through the shallow water to meet the boat.

"Now, Master Jack," cried Dinny, "take a howlt!"

Jack seized Bart by the waist as the boat's gunwale touched him. Abel and Dinny lifted together, and the result was that a certain amount of water went in over the side; but with it, heaving and struggling still, the knotted together bodies of Bart and his adversary, to lie in the bottom of the little craft, the sailor, fortunately for the escaping party, undermost.

"Sit down and row!" roared Abel; but his order was needless, for Jack had seated himself on the thwart, thrust out the oars at once, and began to pull; while on opposite sides, Dinny and Abel ran the boat out till they were breast-high in the water, when they gave it a final thrust and began to climb in.

By this time they were thirty or forty yards from the dry sand, down which the overseer and his party came running, and stopped at the edge.

"Halt! Surrender!" roared the overseer, savagely.

There was no reply, but the oars were plied swiftly, and the boat glided over the gla.s.sy swell.

"Fire!" roared the overseer, raising his piece; and a shower of buckshot came whistling and pattering by them, several of the little bullets striking the boat.

"Fire!" roared the overseer again. "Curse you! Why don't you fire!"

A scattered volley from half a dozen pieces answered his furious order, and as the little party glanced back, it was to see that those on sh.o.r.e were reloading rapidly, the peculiar noise made by the ramming down of the wads being plainly heard, mingled with the thudding of the ramrods as the charges were driven home.

No one spoke in the boat, but Abel and Dinny rapidly got oars over the side and began to pull, the latter having the harder work from the heaving bodies of the two combatants occupying the bottom of the boat, a fact which necessitated his standing up; but all the same he helped the boat vigorously along.

"Are ye going to lie down?" said Dinny, as he saw the enemy wade out as far as they could and prepare to fire.

"No!" said Abel. "You can."

"Divil a bit will I, if you don't," said Dinny, "and good luck to 'em!

They've only got big pellets for shooting the pigs, and they won't kill except at close quarthers."

Another scattered volley rang echoing out, and thundered along the cliffs, the smoke hiding the enemy from the gaze of those in the boat.

"Murther!" yelled Dinny, dropping his oar, but stooping to pick it up again as he shook his hand. "It's gone right through," he continued, as he gazed at a bead of blood oozing from the back of his hand, and another on the other side in the centre of his palm. "I wish I knew the divil who fired that. It feels like one of the overseer's games."

"Anyone else hit?" said Abel. "Jack!"

"It's nothing--a scratch," said Jack, rowing away with all his might, as the blood began to trickle down from a scored place upon his forehead.

"Go on rowing."

"Bad luck to 'em! There's so many shot in a charge; it gives 'em such a chance," grumbled Dinny. "But niver mind, Masther Jack. It'll be a bit of a shmart; but losing a dhrop o' blood won't hurt ye."

Jack nodded, and tugged away rapidly, reducing the distance between them and the cutter; but they could not get farther from the firing party, who kept up a furious fusillade as they followed along round the side of the little bay, the pellets whistling by the fugitives, and more than one finding a home.

"Faix, and ye've got the best place there, Bart, me lad," cried Dinny, merrily. "Shall I come and howlt him while you take a change?"

"Look here!" growled Bart, as another volley was fired at them, and the shot came hurtling round; "it's no good now. Are you going to give in?"

The sailor looked from one to the other as he lay, with his head in the water at the bottom of the boat.