The Adventures of Don Lavington Part 80

A sudden yell rose from the attacking party just then, and three of the enemy rushed forward to the front, armed with short-handled stone tomahawks. They seemed to be chiefs, and were men of great height and bulk, but none the less active; and as they advanced, a low murmur of dismay was started by such of the women as could command a view of what was going on outside. This seemed to be communicated to all the rest, women and children taking up the murmur, which rose to a piteous wail.

This started the pigs and dogs which had been driven into the protection of the _pah_, and the discord was terrible.

But meanwhile, partly to encourage their followers, partly to dismay those they had come to attack, the three leaders rushed wildly to and fro before the opening to the fort, brandishing their stone axes, grimacing horribly, putting out their tongues, and turning up their eyes, till only the whites were visible.

"It's that 'ere which makes me think they won't fight," said Jem, as he and Don watched the scene intently.

"Don't talk, Jem. See what they are going to do. Are we to shoot if they do attack?"

"If you don't they'll give it to us," replied Jem. "Oh, what a row!"

For at that moment there was a terrible and peculiar cry given from somewhere behind the little army, and the three men gave place to one who rushed from behind. The cry was given out three times as the man indulged in a similar set of wild evolutions to those which had been displayed by the three leaders, and with his eyes showing only the whites, he too thrust out his tongue derisively.

"If I was only near enough to give you a chop under the chin!" grumbled Jem.

Then he grasped and c.o.c.ked the pistol he held, for the chief in front suddenly began to stamp on the ground, and shouted forth the beginning of his war-song.

Up leaped the whole of the enemy, to shake their spears as they yelled out the chorus, leaping and stamping with regular movement, till the earth seemed to quiver. The acts of the chief were imitated, every man seeming to strive to outdo his fellows in the contortions of their countenances, the protrusion of their tongues, and the way in which they rolled and displayed the whites of their eyes.

There was quite a military precision in the stamping and bounding, while the rhythm of the wild war-song was kept with wonderful accuracy.

"Feel scared, Mas' Don?" whispered Jem.

"I did at first, Jem," replied Don; "but they seem such a set of ridiculous idiots, that I am more disposed to laugh at them."

"That's just how I feel, my lad, only aggrawated like, too. I should like to go among 'em with a big stick. I never see such faces as they make. It is all flam; they won't fight."

The war-song went on as if the enemy were exciting themselves for the affray, and all the time the men of Tomati and Ngati stood firm, and as watchful as could be of their foes, who leaped, and stamped, and sang till Jem turned to Don, and said in a low voice,--

"Look here, Mas' Don, it's my opinion that these here chaps never grew inside their heads after they was six or seven. They've got bodies big enough, but no more brains than a little child. Look at that six-foot-four chap making faces at us; why, it's like a little boy.

They won't fight."

It seemed so to Don, and that it was all going to be an attempt to frighten the tribe he was with. But all the same, the enemy came by degrees nearer and nearer, as they yelled and leaped; and a suspicion suddenly crossed Don's mind that there might be a motive in all this.

"Jem, they mean to make a rush."

"Think so, Mas' Don?"

"Yes, and our people know it. Look out!"

The followers of Tomati had thoroughly grasped the meaning of the indirect approach, just as a man who has practised a certain manoeuvre is prepared for the same on the part of his enemy, and they had gradually edged towards the entrance to the _pah_, which was closed, but which naturally presented the most accessible way to the interior.

The howling chorus and the dancing continued, till, at a signal, the rush was made, and the fight began.

Jem Wimble's doubts disappeared in an instant; for, childish as the actions of the enemy had been previously, they were now those of desperate savage men, who made no account of their lives in carrying out the attack upon the weaker tribe.

With a daring that would have done credit to the best disciplined forces, they darted up to the stout fence, some of them attacking the defenders, by thrusting through their spears, while others strove to climb up and cut the lashings of the _toro-toro_, the stout fibrous creeper with which the palings were bound together.

One minute the enemy were dancing and singing, the next wildly engaged in the fight; while hard above the din, in a mournful booming bleat, rang out the notes of a long wooden horn.

The tumult increased, and was made more terrible by the screaming of the women and the crying of the children, which were increased as some unfortunate defender of the _pah_ went down before the spear-thrusts of the enemy.

The attack was as daring and brave as could be; but the defence was no less gallant, and was supplemented by a desperate valour, which seemed to be roused to the pitch of madness as the women's cries arose over some fallen warrior. A spear was thrust through at the defenders; answering thrusts were given, but with the disadvantage that the enemy were about two to one. Tomati fought with the solid energy of his race, always on the look-out to lead half-a-dozen men to points which were most fiercely a.s.sailed; and his efforts in this way were so successful that over and over again the enemy were driven back in spots where they had made the most energetic efforts to break through.

As Don and Jem looked on they saw Tomati's spear darted through the great fence at some savage who had climbed up, and was hacking the lashings; and so sure as that thrust was made, the stone tomahawk ceased to hack, and its user fell back with a yell of pain or despair.

Ngati, too, made no grotesque contortions of his face; there was no lolling out of the tongue, or turning up of the eyes, for his countenance was set in one fixed stare, and his white teeth clenched as he fought with the valour of some knight of old.

"I would not ha' thought it, Mas' Don," said Jem excitedly. "Look at him; and I say--oh, poor chap!"

This last was as Jem saw a fine-looking young Maori, who was defending a rather open portion of the stockade, deliver a thrust, and then draw back, drop his spear, throw up his arms, and then reel and stagger forward, to fall upon his face--dead.

"They'll be through there directly, Mas' Don!" cried Jem, hoa.r.s.ely, as Don stooped upon one knee to raise the poor fellow's head, and lay it gently down again, for there was a look upon it that even he could understand.

"Through there, Jem?" said Don, rising slowly, and looking half stunned with horror.

"Yes, my lad; and Tomati's busy over the other side, and can't come.

Arn't it time us two did something?"

"Yes," said Don, with his face flushing, as he gave a final look at the dead Maori. "Ah!"

Both he and Jem stopped short then, for there was a yell of dismay as Ngati was seen now to stagger away from the fence, and fall headlong, bleeding from half-a-dozen wounds.

An answering yell came from outside, and the clatter of spear and tomahawk seemed to increase, while the posts were beginning to yield in the weak spot near where the two companions stood.

"Come on, Jem!" cried Don, who seemed to be moved by a spirit of excitement, which made him forget to feel afraid; and together they ran to where two men, supported by their companions outside, were hacking at the _toro-toro_, while others were fiercely thrusting their spears through whenever the defenders tried to force the axe-men down.

"Pistols, Jem, and together, before those two fellows cut the lashings."

"That's your sort!" cried Jem; and there was a sharp _click, click_, as they c.o.c.ked their pistols.

"Now, Jem, we mustn't miss," said Don. "Do as I do."

He walked to within three or four yards of the great fence, and rested the b.u.t.t of the spear he carried on the ground. Then, holding the pistol-barrel against the spear-shaft with his left hand, thus turning the spear into a support, he took a long and careful aim at a great bulky savage, holding on the top of the fence.

Jem followed his example, and covered the other; while the enemy yelled, and thrust at them with their spears, yelling the more excitedly as it was found impossible to reach them.

"Let me give the word, Mas' Don!" cried Jem, whose voice shook with excitement. "Mind and don't miss, dear lad, or they'll be down upon us.

Ready?"

"Yes," said Don.

"Here goes, then," cried Jem. "Fire! Stop your vents."

The two pistols went off simultaneously, and for a few moments the smoke concealed the results. Then there was a tremendous yelling outside, one that was answered from within by the defenders, who seemed to have become inspirited by the shots; for either from fright, or from the effects of the bullets, the two great Maoris who were cutting the lashings were down, and the defenders were once more at the fence, keeping the enemy back.

"Load quickly, Jem," said Don.

"That's just what I was a-going to say to you, Mas' Don."