Stan Lynn Part 46

"Hadn't we better try and shoot more of them, sir?" said one of the clerks.

"No; you must only shoot their leaders. If we went on firing at the crowd we should soon have no cartridges left.--What does that shouting mean?"

He raised himself a little to try and see the reason for a fresh burst of shouting below the window where he was watching.

The answer came at once, after a peculiar odour, and in the shape of a blazing earthenware pot of inflammable material which was thrown from the top of the tea-chest wall with such accuracy that it came flaring and fuming right in through the narrow opening, to fall heavily beyond Stan.

One such blazing missile, it was plain to all, would be sufficient to commence the destruction of the place, and in his excitement the young leader forgot his status of chief and director, for he made a dash towards the blazing pot, to stoop, seize it, and hurl it out. But just as he was holding his breath to avoid the smoke and flame, he was sent backward by a sharp concussion, sitting down involuntarily, and then trying to recover himself; but before he could get upon his knees he saw the burning pot travelling back through the window-opening with so good an aim that it fell on the far side of the wall, just where the enemy were thickest.

The man who had thrown it back after upsetting his leader turned upon Stan with hands blackened with the horrible resinous compound, and a deprecating look on his countenance as he murmured something in his native language, before ending up with his version of the English word "sorry."

"All right," shouted Stan, smiling, as he clapped the coolie on the shoulder. "Bravo! Capital! Go on."

The coolie's face lit up with satisfaction, and he turned sharply to field another blazing pot and return it as sharply as a clever wicket-keeper would a ball to the stumps which it had pa.s.sed, and with such splendid effect that it struck and broke on one of the enemy, who was standing on the wall in the act of hurling another of the hideous missiles.

The effect was startling. In an instant the pirate's blue cotton frock was covered with the blazing resin, and uttering frightful yells, he leapt down into the crowd of his comrades in the shelter of the wall beneath, forcing several to share in his misfortune as they were lighting up more of the horrible missiles to hand up to him for throwing.

There was a burst of flame through a cloud of smoke, out of which Stan-- fascinated into looking out--saw something alive flaring as it rushed here and there, making for a party of its fellows dashing up with more of the pots.

It was all done in a few seconds, and had any of the a.s.sailants been ready and noticed the lad watching, he would have been shot down. But every eye was directed at the blazing figure, and, to his horror, Stan saw the end of the tragedy. For the instinct of self-preservation had made them doubly callous to their comrade's sufferings. The man rushed on as if seeking help or in a blind effort to reach the river and plunge in; but he did not reach it of his own volition, being received upon the lowered spears of three or four of his comrades, and then he was thrust, shrieking horribly, over the edge of the wharf, a sullen puff of smoke from the surface of the water telling that the tragedy was at an end.

A frightful sensation of sickness made Stan's head swim as he dropped back to the floor just in time to escape being struck by another of the fiery missiles; but the faintness was driven off by excitement, and it was with perfectly clear brain that the lad saw the burning Asiatic grenade hurled back amongst the yelling a.s.sailants. This proved to be with an effect that checked further effort for the moment and sent two of the pirates running to the edge of the wharf, to plunge in and climb out again dripping, but with no worse injury than a few smarting burns.

Stan was awake to the danger that was rapidly increasing, for after seeing that the smoking patches of pitchy resin on the floor were innocuous, he ran on towards where the far end of the great room was full of smoke, dreading greater mischief there; but, to his great relief, he found that, though quite half-a-dozen stink-pots had been hurled in through the windows, the coolies there had dashed them back at once. And here, too, he found that the enemy had suffered so painfully from their own weapons that the throwing had ceased.

Any doubt that might have lingered in the brains of the British defenders respecting the amount of confidence that might be placed in the Chinese labourers was now completely driven away; for though the men had been burned about the hands by the missiles they had returned, they made very light of the pain, laughing and congratulating one another upon the retaliation they had been able to inflict, for Stan soon gathered that here no less than three of the enemy had been seen to rush shrieking to the edge of the wharf and plunge in.

There was a brief cessation now from the attack, and the defenders, whose vision was a good deal obscured by the smoke that hung in the place, made out that the throwers were hanging back from where several stink-pots were burning away in the shelter of the wall, some of the men protesting loudly as one of their leaders furiously urged them on, and ended by trying to set his followers an example by stepping forward, seizing one of the vessels, coming back into sight again with the pot flaming as he held it by its loose handle, and then making a rush to a breach where a portion of the tea-chest wall had been torn down.

The act was one of barbaric bravery, and Stan saw him reach the top, swinging the pot to and fro and making the flames roar as they rushed away from his hands. Then as his arm was reached out backwards to its fullest extent, and he was about to launch the horrible missile at the opening in front, there was the sharp crack of a rifle, and he fell forward, pitching headlong to the ground beneath the window, while the blazing pot struck the stonework close to the foundation of the building, broke up, and went on blazing and sending up a dense cloud of pitchy smoke.

"Dead?" said the man who had fired, for Stan had reached forward to look out, but drew back again coughing.

"It's impossible to see," he cried. "The smoke is blinding."

"And it will be setting something on fire," said another voice out of the smoke.

"Ah! that's right," cried Stan, for the big coolie who had taken his place near them pressed forward with a bucket of water, which he set down while he thrust out his head to see exactly where the danger lay, before picking up the bucket again, reaching out, and dribbling the water down a little at a time, producing a cloud of steam to mingle with the black smoke, and putting an end to all danger of a fire starting at the lower barricaded windows.

As the cloud of steam and smoke pa.s.sed off, one of the clerks risked thrusting out his head from the next window, but withdrew it sharply, for it resulted in a hasty discharge of _jingals_ from the deck of the nearest junk.

"Hurt?" cried Stan, rushing to where the clerk had staggered back.

"Yes, sir, horribly," was the reply. "Something--a piece of iron--or-- a--a bullet--caught me--here--and--"

The words came at short intervals, and sounded confused. For the speaker was feeling about his head and neck, and drawing in his breath with pain.

"One moment," cried Stan, reaching out a hand to take something from where it had lodged just within the poor fellow's collar.

"Yes, that must have been it," he said wonderingly. "Bit of stone. Hit me on the side of the head. But that couldn't have come out of one of their matchlocks."

"No," said Stan; "it must have been chipped off the side of the window."

"And there's only a lump coming here. Doesn't bleed, does it, sir?"

"No," replied Stan. "You had a lucky escape."

"What a close shave! Never mind; a miss is as good as a mile," added the young fellow cheerily. "I saw the captain, though, or whatever he is, lying down at the foot of the warehouse quite dead."

"Are you sure?" asked Stan, with his face contracted.

"Oh yes--quite. He wouldn't be lying doubled up as he is if he were only wounded. I say, Mr Lynn, that wasn't a bad shot."

"No; excellent, and just in the nick of time. Who fired it?"

"Well," said the young man, hesitating and speaking as if he were not so proud of the effort after further consideration, "I fired straight at him, as I thought, just as he was in the act of flinging that blazing pot; but I can't say I am sure that I hit him."

"But you are sure that he is dead?" replied Stan quietly. "Pray be cautious, though. Don't run such a risk by looking out again."

"You may take my word for it I won't, sir," said the young clerk, patting the side of his head softly as he spoke. "One taste like this will act as a reminder for some time.--Hullo! Look out. They've begun again."

There was proof of a renewal of the attempt to destroy the place by fire in the presence of another of the pirates' hand-sh.e.l.ls, for one came sailing in through the farthest window, to break up with a crash about the middle of the flooring; and the defenders had a fine exemplification of the dangers to which they were exposed in seeing the half-liquid contents of the pot begin to flow, blazing steadily, in all directions.

One of the coolies rushed up at once to spread the contents of a bucket of water all over the burning patch, while another, regardless of the pain, ran here and there catching up the flame-licked fragments of the pot from where they had fallen, and kept on hurling them like little smoke-tailed comets back through the window-opening.

"More water," shouted Stan, as the burning patch began to add another odour to its own, a fine, pungent smoke beginning to mingle with the dense black fume, indicating that the floor boards were beginning to catch.

"No, no, sir; this will be best," said one of the warehous.e.m.e.n, and he dragged one of the silk-bales away from the nearest window.

"But that will catch fire," said Stan.

"Too closely pressed together, sir," was the reply.--"Here, you two, draw that backwards and forwards over the fire to smother it out."

The two coolies caught at the suggestion, and seizing the bale together, they began to push it here and there over the burning place, with the effect of rapidly smothering out the flaming pitch, dense black smoke alone rising wherever the bale was pa.s.sed; but unfortunately a heated gas kept on ascending from the blackened boards, and that caught fire again with a little explosion as the bale glided away.

Perseverance won, however, but none too soon, for all danger had hardly been swept away before another of the pots came hissing and fuming in, but without breaking; and this was jerked out, sending the attacking party flying from the place where it was expected to fall, the painful examples they had seen making the a.s.sailants pretty careful now.

This one was followed by several more, and then, to the great relief of the defenders, there was a cessation, and the a.s.sailants could be seen gathering together as if to listen to a mandarin-like officer who was risking his life while talking vehemently to his followers, who had now drawn away from the walls and were collected close to the edge of the wharf, many glancing at the junks as if disposed to rush on board.

"They're beginning to turn tail now," said Stan to the warehouseman who had spoken out so firmly. "I think we had better give them a volley and start them off with a run."

"I'm afraid that it would be just as likely to enrage them all the more."

"Yes, sir," said Lawrence, Stan's lieutenant; "perhaps we had better wait; but my fingers are itching to bring down that captain, or chief, or whatever he is."

"He seems to be urging them on," said Stan thoughtfully--very thoughtfully, for he had an idea in his head, one that would give the man a chance for his life, which might not be the case if he told his lieutenant to fire.

For now that the attack had ceased and the pirates' fiery missiles had left off making his nerves quiver at the prospect of the fire gaining the mastery and driving them out of their stronghold, the lad felt anything but bloodthirsty; while he thought that if this leader, who seemed now to be the most prominent of all, were disabled, his followers might set the example of taking to flight.