With Drake on the Spanish Main Part 28

"Not all, Amos," replied Dennis. "You forget the canoe which the maroons built for us; they will build another. But I am not content to lose the _Minion_; how could we face Master Drake and confess we had lost her? I would fain save her, but how?"

"Ah, if we had but torches to light the scene!" said Tom Copstone--"like to those we had at Fort Aguila yonder."

"Thanks for that word!" cried Dennis. "Quick, Amos, into the shed! I bethink me there are barrels of oil that we did not place aboard the _Mirandola_. Broach one, man; tear some of your garments into rags and plentifully soak them in the oil. These we will light and fling down into the pool."

Skipping back from the wall, Turnpenny and Copstone went into the shed and crept back in less than two minutes with armfuls of drenched rags.

These they kindled and threw hastily over into the pool below. The enemy opposite poured in a hotter fire, but the little company kept close and none was. .h.i.t. The device was not a moment too soon. By the light of the blazing rags it could be seen that the Spaniards had swarmed on board the pinnace, hauled up her anchor, and fastened her head rope to their boat. She was indeed already moving slowly towards the sea.

"Fire, my lads!" cried Dennis. "Let them not all escape."

Half a dozen of the men leapt forward, and, heedless of the enemy's bullets, discharged their calivers at the men on the deck of the pinnace. Cries proclaimed that some at any rate had hit the mark; but in an instant afterwards the _Minion's_ deck was clear, the Spaniards having sprung overboard or gone below. Still the vessel slowly receded. As she was between the towing-boat and the ledge, the rowers were protected from the Englishmen's bullets, and they uttered a derisive yell as foot by foot they drew the vessel nearer the sea.

"The falconet, Amos!" cried Dennis. "'Tis time to use our ordnance."

"But we be too high, sir. I cannot lower the muzzle so as to bear on the pinnace."

"You will be able to do that as she draws nearer the shoulder of the cliff. Lay the gun in readiness."

"Zuggers, sir, but if I hit the poor little craft 'twill smash her."

"I care not. If we cannot keep her whole, neither shall the Spaniards have her whole. Lay the gun, man."

"My heart, and so I will, and the knaves shall have a plumper, od-rat-en!"

The entrance to the gully was dimly lit by the burning rags floating in the wake of the pinnace. Amos had shoved the gun through the embrasure, and, with his eye along its upper surface, watched the little vessel as she floated on towards the open sea. The firing opposite had now ceased; it was as though the Spaniards, sure of success, disdained to waste more powder and shot. Apparently they were watching the departing pinnace with so much interest that they had not observed the muzzle of the falconet projecting from the wall.

The vessel was now at the very entrance of the gully. In another half minute she would round the shoulder of the cliff and disappear. But before that half minute was past there was a flash from the ledge; a round shot flew seawards; and next moment there were shrieks from the Spaniards who, now that they were out of range of the defenders' small arms, had again come on deck. The shot had struck the vessel square astern. Her rudder was shattered; she swung round on the tide, and in another instant ran aground on a shoal and stuck fast.

A mighty cheer rose from the ledge when the men saw the effect of Turnpenny's shot.

"'Twas famous, Haymoss," cried Copstone. "Man, 'twas a thumping twack!"

And Hugh Curder in his glee lifted up his voice:

"Then next the blacksmith he came in, And said 'Twas mighty hot!'"

"Smother you!" cried Turnpenny. "Think of the little poor craft yonder; 'tis like striking a 'ooman, and goes to my heart."

"But 'ee'd do that in kindness, Haymoss," said Copstone. "See, the knaves cannot pull her off; she be firm on the rocks, and with the tide falling they'll never move her. They'll think twice before they try that same device again."

An angry volley from the cliff opposite set them all scurrying again to cover behind the wall. It proved as Copstone had said. After vainly endeavouring for some time to haul the pinnace from the shoal, the occupants of the boat cast off the rope and disappeared. The flames of the burning rags went out one by one; black darkness settled over the gully; quietness reigned all around; and leaving three men to keep the first watch, the rest drew their garments around them and sought sleep, wondering what the coming day might have in store.

Dennis pa.s.sed a miserable night. He could not share the childlike elation which Turnpenny's successful shot had produced in the minds of the mariners. He felt that this enemy was not to be baulked; every little set-back would only strengthen the Spaniards' resolve to crush their opponents; and by this time they could be in no doubt how small was the company resisting them. His head ached with thinking before he fell asleep, and when he woke, before dawn, it was with throbbing temples and anxious heart.

And when he got up and looked towards the sea, he felt his spirit die within him; for there, just past the shoulder of the cliff and some distance out to sea, lay one of the enemy's vessels, moored at a point which he had fondly believed to be unapproachable by any craft of her size. She had been descried by the men of the last watch, but the meaning of the move was not clear to them as it was instantly to him.

The ledge was just within range of her guns, for although the shoulder of the cleft hid the pool from any vessel in the main channel, it was just within sight from the spot to which the enemy's vessel had worked.

"Jaykle! the skipper must be rare and bold," cried Turnpenny.

"And a mariner of right good skill," said Dennis.

But their admiration was turned to grave alarm when, with a roar, the whole of the vessel's broadside was suddenly fired, and the round shot came hurtling up the gully. To reply was impossible. The small guns on the ledge were too light to carry the distance. And there was nothing to be hoped for from bad marksmanship on the enemy's part. The first discharge had no effect except to displace ma.s.ses of rock and earth from the cliff below the ledge.

"They cannot raise their muzzles high enough to hit the ledge," cried Turnpenny in delight.

But this fond hope was shattered at the next broadside. One shot struck the hut; another tore a great gap in the wall; a third chipped off large pieces of rock; several men were wounded.

"Our wall is vain now," said Dennis. "Another shot will tear it away, and we shall have no defence against the calivers of the enemy when they again appear on the cliff. Ah! and there they come. We must run for the cave, Amos; 'tis our last refuge. Lead the men thither; let them carry our arms and munitions, and what water and stores they can.

I and Copstone and one or two more will strive to make reply to the enemy while aught of our wall remains."

Bullets were already falling on the ledge. Led by Turnpenny, most of the men, loaded with things, scuttled along the face of the cliff into the thicket that half concealed the mouth of the cave. Dennis with three companions fired back at the opposite cliff; but in a few minutes another volley of round shot came crashing up the gully, and scarcely a man on the ledge but was wounded by splinters of rock, though none was directly hit by the shot. It was hopeless to cling to the position longer.

"Follow me, lads," cried Dennis; and, rushing down the ledge to where it widened and was overgrown with bushes, he and his comrades joined the others safely in the cave.

CHAPTER XXIV

The Leaguer of Skeleton Cave

"Save us all!" cried Turnpenny, "we be like rats in a trap."

"The knaves cannot get at us, for this present at least," said Copstone.

"True, not without being well whopped; but they can block up the entrance, and keep us mewed up until we must either yield or starve, or perish of thirst."

"Keep a good heart," said Dennis, cheerfully. "We will not yield or starve yet. Since I set sail from England in the _Maid Marian_ yonder many a marvellous thing has befallen me. I met a countryman when I had given up hope! Why may not things we do not foresee happen again?"

"Ay, true," said one of Drake's men; "and perchance Master Francis himself may come to our aid."

"That is but a poor chance," said Dennis. "It were better we trust in G.o.d and our own wit. We are safe at present; let us see what shelter our cave affords; I confess I have not hitherto fully explored it."

Lighting a torch, he walked inwards, with two or three of the men, and found after a few yards that the floor sloped slightly downwards, and that the cave widened out on both sides, so that, if the enemy discovered it, and fired into the opening, the inmates could find shelter out of the line of fire. The air was close, but as it did not become oppressive so soon as Dennis expected, he was tempted to believe that there was a hole somewhere in the roof which served to ventilate the cave. But though he looked carefully along the whole vault, which extended for some thirty yards into the cliff, he found no such opening, and concluded that the comparative freshness of the air was due merely to the s.p.a.ciousness of the cave and the width of its mouth.

The day wore away in quiet. Careful watch was kept at the opening, and occasionally Spaniards were seen moving up and down the gully and on the opposite cliff; but no a.s.sault was made, and it seemed as though the enemy was content to wait until hunger and thirst had done their work. An inspection of the stores showed that there was only two days'

food; all the water they had was contained in three buckets; and this, in that climate, and the state of excitement to which the men were wound up, was but a pitiful supply if the investment was to be protracted. Especially was it unfortunate seeing that several men were wounded, some seriously. Their injuries were dressed as carefully as possible with the limited appliances at hand; but in the course of the day one poor fellow died, and was solemnly buried in a grave dug with their weapons in the floor.

Among the occupants of the cave was Mirandola. The monkey had taken refuge in a tree while the fighting was in progress, and Dennis thought that the poor animal would certainly flee to the woody interior of the island, far away from the din and turmoil. But at nightfall the monkey stole into the cave, and attached himself to Dennis, whom he followed about like a shadow.

The hours of darkness dragged slowly along. Almost as soon as it was light, a round shot came crashing into the opening, scattering stones and earth in all directions. The Spaniards' inaction during the previous day was explained: they had evidently brought from the vessel in the offing a gun, perhaps more than one, and mounted it on the opposite cliff. The effect of the shot, which luckily harmed no one, was to send the men in all haste to the sides of the cave. But the crash and the smoke made Mirandola shriek with fright. He ran deeper into the cave, and when Dennis, with a torch, followed to soothe his terror, he discovered that the poor beast had taken refuge on the top of an irregular pillar of rock that stood out from the wall about three quarters of the way from the entrance. He tried to coax the monkey to descend, but without avail. The top of the pillar being beyond his reach, he called Turnpenny, and, climbing on to the mariner's broad shoulders, reached up to seize the monkey. But Mirandola retreated and disappeared.

"The beast is deaved, to be sure," said Turnpenny, "and lacks his little wit. Let him bide, sir."

"Nay, he has been our partner so long that I am not willing to lose him, and he will surely be stifled if we do not bring him nearer the opening. Hoist me, Amos."

He swarmed to the top of the rock, the sailor handing up the torch after him. It took a few moments to become accustomed to the blackness, and in the red flickering light he failed to see any sign of the monkey. But he perceived with surprise that the pillar did not abut immediately on the wall, as he had supposed. Behind it he saw what appeared to be a deep black hole, which seemed deeper when he inserted his torch. Into this Mirandola, his nerves completely unstrung by the shattering explosion, must have run for refuge.