The Mutineers Part 24

Though a gentle rain was falling, the whole village was alive with people.

Men armed with spears and krises squatted in all parts of the hut. Boys came and went in the narrow circle of light. Women and girls looked from the door and from the farthest corners. Now and then some one would point at Roger's pistol and cry, "Pom-pom!" or, to the pride and delight of the cook, point at the cleaver and cry, "Whis.h.!.+" and laugh loudly.

Even black Frank had got over his terror of having natives come up without warning and feel of his arm or his woolly head, though he muttered doubtfully, "Ah ain't sayin' as Ah likes it. Dah's su'thin' so kind of hongry de way dey comes munchin' an' proddin' round dis yeh ol' niggeh."

At midnight we went out into the dark and the rain, and followed single file after our leader along a narrow path that led through dripping ferns and pools of mud and water, over roots and rocks, and under low branches, which time and again swung back and struck our faces.

We were drenched to the skin when we came at last to a sluggish, black little stream, which ran slowly under thick overhanging trees, and in other circ.u.mstances we should have been an unhappy and rebellious crew. But now the spell of adventure was upon us. Our savage guides moved silently and surely, and the forest was so mysterious and strange that I found its allurement all but irresistible. The slow, silent stream, on which now and then lights as faint and elusive as wisps of cloud played fitfully, reflected from I knew not where, had a fascination that I am sure the others felt as strongly as I. So we followed in silence and watched all that the dense blackness of the night let us see.

Now the natives launched canoes, which slipped out on the water and lay side by side in the stream. Roger and Neddie Benson got into one; Blodgett and Davie Paine another; the cook and I into a third, Whatever thoughts or plans we six might have, we could not express them to the natives, and we were too widely separated to put them into practice ourselves. We could only join in the fight with good-will when the time came, and I a.s.sure you, the thought made me very nervous indeed. Also, I now realized that the natives had taken no chance of treachery on our part: _behind each of us sat an armed man_.

The canoes shot ahead so swiftly under the pressure of the paddles that they seemed actually to have come to life. But they moved as noiselessly as shadows. We glided down the stream and out in a long line into a little bay, where we gathered, evidently to arrange the last details of the attack. I heard Roger say in a low voice, "We'll reach the s.h.i.+p about three bells and there couldn't be a better hour." Then, with a few low words of command from the native chief, we spread out again into an irregular, swiftly moving fleet, and swept away from the sh.o.r.e.

As I looked back at the island I could see nothing, for the cloudy sky and the drizzly rain completely obscured every object beyond a limited circle of water; but as I looked ahead, my heart leaped and my breath came quickly. We had pa.s.sed the farthest point of land and there, dimly in the offing, shone a single blurred light, which I knew was on the Island Princess.

CHAPTER XXII

WE ATTACK

In the darkness and rain we soon lost sight even of those nearest us on each side, but we knew by the occasional almost imperceptible whisper of a paddle in the water, or by the faintest murmur of speech, that the others were keeping pace with us.

To this day I do not understand how the paddlers maintained the proper intervals in our line of attack; yet maintain them they did, by some means or other, according to a preconcerted plan, for we advanced without hurry or hesitation.

Approaching the s.h.i.+p more closely, we made out the rigging, which the soft yellow light of the lantern dimly revealed. We saw, too, a single dark figure leaning on the taffrail, which became clear as we drew nearer. I was surprised to perceive that we had come up astern of the s.h.i.+p--quite without reason I had expected to find her lying bow on. Now we rode the gentle swell without sound or motion. The slow paddles held us in the same place with regard to the s.h.i.+p, and minutes pa.s.sed in which my nervousness rose to such a pitch that I felt as if I must scream or clap my hands simply to shatter that oppressive, tantalizing, almost unendurable silence. But when I started to turn and whisper to the cook, something sharp and cold p.r.i.c.ked through the back of my s.h.i.+rt and touched my skin, and from that time on I sat as still as a wooden figurehead.

After a short interval I made out other craft drawing in on our right and left, and I later learned that, while we waited, the canoes were forming about the s.h.i.+p a circle of hostile spears. But it then seemed at every moment as if the man who was leaning on the taffrail must espy us,--it always is hard for the person in the dark, who sees what is near the light, to realize that he himself remains invisible,--and a thousand fears swept over me.

There came now from somewhere on our right a whisper no louder than a mouse's hiss of warning or of threat. I scarcely was aware of it. It might have been a ripple under the prow of the canoe, a slightest turn of a paddle. Yet it conveyed a message that the natives instantly understood.

The man just behind me repeated it so softly that his repet.i.tion was scarcely audible, even to me who sat so near that I could feel his breath, and at once the canoe seemed silently to stir with life. Inch by inch we floated forward, until I could see clearly the hat and coat-collar of the man who was leaning against the rail. It was Kipping.

From forward came the cautious voices of the watch. The light revealed the masts and rigging of the s.h.i.+p for forty or fifty feet from the deck, but beyond the cross-jack yard all was hazy, and the cabin seemed in the odd shadows twice its real size. I wondered if Falk were asleep, too, or if we should come on him sitting up in the cabin, busy with his books and charts.

I wondered who was in the galley, where I saw a light; who was standing watch; who was asleep below. Still we moved noiselessly on under the stern of the s.h.i.+p, until I almost could have put my hands on the carved letters, "Island Princess."

Besides things on deck, the light also revealed our own attacking party.

The man in front of me had laid his paddle in the bottom of the canoe and held a spear across his knees. In the boat on our right were five natives armed with spears and krises; in the one on our left, four. Beyond the craft nearest to us I could see others less distinctly--silent shadows on the water, each with her head toward our prey, like a school of giant fish.

In the lee of the s.h.i.+p, the pinnace floated at the end of its painter.

Still the watch forward talked on in low, monotonous voices; still Kipping leaned on the rail, his head bent, his arms folded, to all appearances fast asleep.

I had now forgotten my fears. I was keenly impatient for the word to attack.

A shrill wailing cry suddenly burst on the night air. The man in front of me, holding his spear above his head with one hand, made a prodigious leap from the boat, caught the planking with his fingers, got toe-hold on a stern-port, and went up over the rail like a wild beast. With knives between their teeth, men from the proas on my right and left boarded the s.h.i.+p by the chains, by the rail, by the bulwark.

I saw Kipping leap suddenly forward and whirl about like a weasel in his tracks. His yell for all hands sounded high above the clamor of the boarders. Then some one jabbed the b.u.t.t of a spear into my back and, realizing that mine was not to be a spectator's part in that weird battle, I scrambled up the stern as best I could.

The watch on deck, I instantly saw, had backed against the forecastle where the watch below was joining it. Captain Falk and some one else, of whose ident.i.ty I could not be sure, rushed armed from the cabin. Then a missile crashed through the lantern, and in the darkness I heard sea-boots banging on the deck as those aft raced forward to join the crew.

I clambered aboard, waving my arms and shouting; then I stood and listened to the chorus of yells fore and aft, the _slip-slip-slip_ of bare feet, the thud of boots as the Americans ran this way and that. I sometimes since have wondered how I escaped death in that wild melee in the darkness.

Certainly I was preserved by no effort of my own, for not knowing which way to turn, ignored by friend and foe alike, almost stunned by the terrible sounds that rose on every side, I simply clutched the rail and was as unlike the hero that my silly dreams had made me out to be--never had I dreamed of such a night!--as is every half-grown lad who stands side by side with violent death.

Of Kipping I now saw nothing, but as a light momentarily flared up, I caught a glimpse of Captain Falk and his party sidling along back to back, fighting off their a.s.sailants while they struggled to launch a boat. Time and time again I heard the spiteful crack of their guns and their oaths and exclamations. Presently I also heard another sound that made my heart throb; a man was moaning as if in great pain.

Then another cried, with an oath, "They've got me! O Tom, haul out that spear!" A scream followed and then silence.

Some one very near me, who as yet was unaware of my presence, said, "He's dead."

"Look out!" cried another. "See! There behind you!"

I was startled and instinctively dodged back. There was a cras.h.i.+ng report in my face; the flame of a musket singed my brows and hair, and powder stung my skin. Then, as the man clubbed his gun, I dashed under his guard, scarcely aware of the pain in my shoulder, and locking my right heel behind his left, threw him hard to the deck, where we slipped and slid in a warm slippery stream that was trickling across the planks.

Back and forth we rolled, neither of us daring to give the other a moment's breathing-s.p.a.ce in which to draw knife or pistol; and all the time the fight went on over our heads. I now heard Roger crying to the rest of us to stand by. I heard what I supposed to be his pistol replying smartly to the fire from Falk's party, and wondered where in that scene of violence he had got powder and an opportunity to load. But for the most part I was rolling and struggling on the slippery deck.

When some one lighted a torch and the flame flared up and revealed the grim scene, I saw that Falk and his remaining men were trying at the same time to stand off the enemy and to scramble over the bulwark, and I realized that they must have drawn up the pinnace. But I had only the briefest glimpse of what was happening, for I was in deadly terror every minute lest my antagonist thrust a knife between my ribs. I could hear him gasping now as he strove to close his hands on my throat, and for a moment I thought he had me; but I twisted away, got half on my knees with him under me, sprang to my feet, then slipped once more on the slow stream across the planks, and fell heavily.

In that moment I had seen by torchlight that the pinnace was clear of the s.h.i.+p and that the men with their guns and spikes were holding off the natives. I had seen, too, a spear flash across the s.p.a.ce of open water and cut down one of the men. But already my adversary was at me again, and with his two calloused hands he once more was gripping my throat. I exerted all my strength to keep from being throttled. I tried to scream, but could only gurgle. His head danced before me and seemed to swing in circles. I felt myself losing strength. I rallied desperately, only to be thrown.

Then, suddenly, I realized that he had let me go and had sat down beside me breathing heavily. It was the man from Boston whose nose had been broken.

He eyed me curiously as if an idea had come upon him by surprise.

"I didn't go to fight so hard, mate," he gasped, "but you did act so kind of vicious that I just had to."

"You what?" I exclaimed, not believing my ears.

"It's the only way I had to come over to your side," he said with a whimper. "Falk would 'a' killed me if I'd just up an' come, though I wanted to, honest I did."

I put my hand on my throbbing shoulder, and stared at him incredulously.

"You don't need to look at me like that," he sniveled. "Didn't I stand by Bill Hayden to the last along with you? Ain't I human? Ain't I got as much appreciation as any man of what it means to have a murderin' pair of officers like Captain Falk and Mr. Kipping? You don't suppose, do you, that I'd stay by 'em without I had to?"

I was somewhat impressed by his argument, and he, perceiving it, continued vehemently, "I _had_ to fight with you. They'd 'a' killed you, too, if I hadn't."

There was truth in that. Unquestionably they would have shot me down without hesitation if we two had not grappled in such a lively tussle that they could not hit one without hitting the other.

We got up and leaned on the bulwark and looked down at the boat, which rode easily on the slow, oily swell. There in the stern-sheets the torchlight now revealed Falk.

"I'm lawful master of this vessel," he called back, looking up at the men who lined the side. "I'll see you hanged from the yard-arm yet, you white-livered wharf-rats, and you, too, you cabin-window popinjay!"--I knew that he meant me.--"There'll come a day, by G.o.d! There'll come a day!"

The men in the boat gave way, and it disappeared in the darkness and mist, its sides bristling with weapons.

But still Falk's voice came back to us shrilly, "I'll see you yet a-hanging by your necks," until at last we could only hear him cursing.

CHAPTER XXIII

WHAT WE FOUND IN THE CABIN