The Ocean Cat's Paw Part 86

"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 pa.s.sing 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 c.o.xswain'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 ash.o.r.e 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 c.o.xswain, 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 c.o.xswain 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 sh.o.r.e.

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 pa.s.sed 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 ash.o.r.e."

"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 sh.o.r.e 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 pa.s.sed 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."