The Captain of the Kansas Part 26

If these painted devils really mean to attack, some of us will get hurt, and then your services will be of greater value than in the fighting line. And, if I do not see Miss Maxwell before the trouble begins, please tell her she need fear no alarm. We shall be able to beat off our a.s.sailants with comparative ease."

When the captain of the _Kansas_ spoke like that there was no gainsaying him. Even Christobal, whose jealous suspicions were ever ready to burst into flame, was roused to enthusiasm by his cool gallantry.

But, ere the Spaniard turned to go, a disturbing thought forced its way to his lips.

"We have every confidence in you," he said, "and I admit that it should be a simple matter to prevent the savages from gaining the upper hand.

Yet, accidents happen. Suppose they manage to rush your defense?"

"They will not do that while I and every other man on deck are alive.

If the worst comes to the worst, you have a revolver--"

"Yes," said Christobal.

"It will suffice for two, but not for a hundred." The two men, united by the very bond which threatened to bring them into antagonism, looked into each other's eyes.

"Is that your last word?" asked Christobal.

"It is."

"I feel sure that you are right. Good-by!"

They shook hands. They were nearer a real friendship then than either of them thought possible, and the bond which held them was love for the same woman.

Courtenay, using his gla.s.ses again, saw that a number of Indians were launching the canoes simultaneously. He counted nine small craft, each holding five or six men, or men and women--at the distance, nearly three miles, he could not be certain whether or not they all wore the distinguishing head-dress of feathers. Against wind and current they could not possibly reach the ship under half an hour, and the smallness of the fleet surprised him.

He stooped and patted Joey, who was at peace with the world after a good dinner.

"We are in luck's way, pup," he said. "These rascals might get the better of us by sheer force of numbers, but there are not fifty of them, all told. Poor devils! They are coming to the slaughter!"

The news that the Indians were advancing ran through the ship like wildfire. Including Mr. Boyle, Frascuelo, and those among the Chileans whose wounds were not serious, there were fourteen men available for the defense. Unfortunately, the supply of firearms was inadequate. A shot-gun and five revolvers const.i.tuted the armory, and one of the pistols was in Christobal's pocket. The supply of ammunition was so small that the revolvers could not be reloaded more than three times; but Courtenay had two hundred shot cartridges, and, against naked men, an ounce of shot is far more effective than a bullet.

The captain hoped to terrify the Indians before they attempted to scale the ship's sides. If various ruses failed, and the attack was pressed, he had decided not to split up his small force in the effort to repel boarders. A scattered resistance would surely break down at one point or another: there would be a rush of savages along the decks, a panic among the Chileans, and all would be ended. On the other hand, when fighting collectively under European leadership, and well aware that the Indians would kill and spare not, the half-breeds might be trusted to acquit themselves like men.

The canvas awning const.i.tuted a flimsy citadel in the center of the vessel. Six men were stationed on the starboard side of the promenade deck, and six on the port side. Tollemache and a Chilean, who said he could shoot well, were told to frustrate any attempt to climb the after part of the ship, while Courtenay, with his fowling-piece, would have the lion's share of this work from the spar deck, as he undertook to keep the rails clear forward and help the revolver practise if necessary. With him was Suarez, who knew what was expected of him, so the language difficulty offered no apparent hindrance once the fight began. Finally, if the Indians made good their footing, the defenders were to rally towards the saloon companion where steam jets were ready to spurt withering blasts along the corridors.

It was a good plan, and might have kept at bay an enemy of higher valor than the Alaculofs, provided they were not armed with rifles. Against modern weapons of long range nothing could be done. If Suarez did not exaggerate, therein lay the real danger. Courtenay wished to make sure at the outset of the number of guns carried by the savages; it was also important to know whether their marksmen were distributed, or crowded together in one or two canoes. If the latter, he would give those warriors his special attention.

His binocular gla.s.ses were not strong enough so he walked back towards the chart-house to procure a telescope. Catching Joey under his left arm, he climbed the short ladder leading to the spar deck, and pulled it up after him, the bolts having been already removed to permit of that being done. Walker was s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g tight the door of the engine-room, in order to safeguard the fireman in attendance on the donkey-boiler. Now that the screw-driving was actually in operation, it very unpleasantly reminded Courtenay of the fastening of a coffin lid. Neither Walker nor the man inside could guess the gruesome notion which held the captain in its chilly grip for an instant; indeed, the engineer looked up with a grin.

"I suppose it's twue, sir, the-aw's goin' to be a fight?" he asked.

"There's a fair chance of one, Walker."

Walker winked suggestively.

"That chap inside thinks he's out of it," he said, "so that's all wight." An energetic turn of the screwdriver signified that the man from Newcastle held the opposite view. Much as he loved his engines, he preferred to be on deck when the trouble came.

It happened that during this slight delay Courtenay glanced at the northern headland, which Elsie had christened Cape Templar, owing to the somewhat remarkable profile of a knight in armor offered by its seaward crags. Possibly, had he gone straight to the chart-house, he might not have noticed a signal fire which was in full blast on the summit of the cliff. It had not been many minutes in existence, and it struck him at once that it was a vehicle of communication between the savages in the approaching canoes and others, yet invisible, who were expected to share in the attack.

He was quick to perceive how seriously this new peril affected his calculations. By the time the nine canoes he had counted were alongside the ship, there might be dozens of others ready to help them.

He leaned over the rail.

"Did you test those flexible pipes this morning?" he inquired.

"Yes, sir, they-aw in fine condition," said Walker.

"Try them again, will you? I want to make sure. Our lives may depend on them very soon."

He saw Suarez watching the oncoming canoes. By a touch on the shoulder he called the man's attention to the smoke signal on Cape Templar. A voluble and perfervid explanation in Spanish was useless. Here arose the unforeseen need of an interpreter. Without troubling to a.n.a.lyze his feelings, Courtenay was glad of the excuse which presented itself of obtaining a momentary glimpse of Elsie.

"Bring the senorita," he said, and Elsie, wondering why she had been summoned from the saloon, ran up the bridge companion. Her face was aglow with excitement, her heart going pit-a-pat. She hoped that Courtenay meant to keep her near him during the fight; she almost doubted Christobal's statement that the captain had given specific orders that she was to remain in the saloon. It was one thing that she should wish to avoid him, but why should he wish to avoid her?

The joy in her eyes died away when she found that the captain merely required a translator. The restraint she imposed on herself made her tongue trip. She had to ask Suarez to repeat his statement twice before she was able to put it into English.

"He says that the Indians only kindle a fire on that point when they want the signal to be seen from the sea," she explained at last. "They used it once, to his knowledge, when some of them had gone to the island out there to kill seals. He cannot guess what it portends to-day, but he is quite sure that they have many more canoes at command than those which you now see up the bay."

Courtenay could not fail to notice her agitation. His quick intent was to soothe her.

"I am afraid my sending for you in such a hurry rather alarmed you.

Suarez strikes me as a person of nerves; he overrates the enemy, Miss Maxwell. I think you know me well enough to believe that I would not mislead you, and I am quite in earnest when I tell you that we shall drive off these unfortunate wretches with comparative ease. Why, I had it in my heart to pity them a moment ago."

She was glad he misunderstood the cause of her agitation.

"Suarez is certainly rather dramatic," she said, smiling wistfully. "I ought to have discounted his Spanish mode of address. But is it really necessary that I should remain below?"

"It is. If shots are fired, or stones slung at us, the chart-house will probably be hit. Ah, yes, I am sure you would risk that, and more. But we may sustain casualties. And Christobal ought to have help. You see, I am asking you to act the braver part."

He caught her hand and looked into her eyes. There are so many messages that can be given in that silent language; for a blissful moment, Elsie forgot the other woman. Not until she had left the bridge did she realize that Courtenay, too, must have been equally forgetful. And that was very distressing, both for her and the unknown. But here she was, face to face with him, and in such close proximity that she was unaccountably timid. While her heart leaped in tumult, she forced her lips to answer:

"You are right. You are always right. I was selfish in thinking that--that I--might--"

There was a pitiful quivering in the corners of her mouth. Courtenay felt her hand tremble.

"Be a brave girl, Elsie," he murmured. "You must go now. Have no fear. We are in G.o.d's care. May His angels watch over you!"

"But you, you will not risk your life? What shall we do if anything happens to you?"

She was strung to that tense pitch when unguarded speech bubbles forth the soul's secrets. All she knew was that Courtenay was looking at her as a man looks at the woman he loves. And that sufficed. The mere sound of her name on his lips was music. He told her to go, yet held her hand a willing prisoner. His words had the sound of a prayer, but it was the orison of a knight to his lady. He bade her fear not, while he trembled a little himself, though she well knew it was not fear which shook him. Neither of them paid heed to the presence of Suarez.

For an instant they had a glimpse of heaven, but the curiously harsh voice of the Spanish miner fell on their ears, and they came back to earth with a sudden drop.

"The Feathered People are singing their war chant," he said, and his gesture seemed to ask them to listen. They started apart, and it was not Elsie alone who blushed. Courtenay crimsoned beneath the tan on his face, and pretended a mighty interest in the doings of the savages.

The girl recovered her self-control more rapidly. She half whispered the meaning of the miner's cry, whereon Courtenay tried to laugh.

"They will be singing a dirge next," said he with a jaunty confidence.

"Now, Elsie, off with you! Be sure I shall come and tell you when you may appear on deck."

She hurried away. She recked naught of the Alaculof challenge. Though the raucous notes of the tuneless lay could be heard plainly enough, they did not reach her ears. When she raced down the saloon companion she found Christobal bending over the small case of instruments he always carried. He straightened himself in his peculiarly stiff way.

"What did the captain want?" he asked, with a suspicious peevishness which, for once, detracted from his habitual courtesy. The note of distrust jarred Elsie back into her senses.