CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.
"ALL IN TO BEGIN."
With so great a danger at hand not a bound was made, every man, weaponin hand, listening and waiting for the next phase of the pirates'approach; while many a heart that had sunk low in the presence of theperil began to beat less heavily as the minutes glided on, with the veilof mist which hid them from their enemies growing thicker.
"Are we saved?" said Uncle Jeff at last in a whisper--"I don't want tofight."
"Nor do I, uncle," whispered back Stan; "but it seems to be too good tobe true."
"What are you talking about?" asked Blunt from out of the mist close athand--"the pirates going by?"
"Yes," replied Uncle Jeff; "we've got off, haven't we?"
"Till the fog clears away; and that will not be long. They won't giveus up. It's only a question of time and their having to beat up againstwind and stream. No," he added, holding his hand up on high; "onlyagainst stream. I can feel the breeze rising, and that will carry offthe fog before long."
"Then you will not be disappointed of your savage desires, Stan," saidUncle Jeff good-humouredly. "What a fellow you are to fight!"
"Oh! don't try to make jokes now, uncle; it's too horrible."
"For the enemy, Stan, my lad; and I don't pity them a bit. They havethe means in their hands to escape all fighting by leaving us carefullyalone; but they will come on these murdering expeditions, to let's givethem all the bullets we can."
"Yes, here comes the breeze," whispered Stan. "I can see the mistgliding by."
"Yes, there it goes," said Blunt, endorsing the lad's words. "We shallbe clear by sunrise."
Quite half-an-hour passed before the air was much lighter, and Bluntventured to give forth the hope that the enemy might have glided on sofar down the river that they would be out of sight, when, almost beforehe had done speaking, the fog seemed to grow thinner, and directly afterto turn to a deep orange, golden hue.
"Sun's rising," said Uncle Jeff. "I hope the junks are well out ofsight. It will give us time for a good breakfast before they comeback."
"No breakfast," said Stan bitterly, for he was thinking of hot coffee,and his appetite was suddenly damped by what he saw. For the lighteningof the mist before the breeze meant that they were close to the edge ofthe moving bank of rolling mist-clouds, and as if the veil had beensuddenly drawn aside, there were the horizontal rays of the sun shiningright across the clustering men on the wharf and turning the greyfog-bank to one of gold. To their left the river was hidden, while totheir right it was dazzlingly bright, with only a few golden wreathsfloating here and there--a glorious scene, but having one of threateninghorror behind; for close inshore, about half a mile down-stream, werethe piratical junks with grapnels out, holding on to keep from beingcarried lower, two on the right bank, and four on the left; and as thecrews caught sight of them when the mist glided off they set up a yellof savage exultation, and a busy scene ensued as some began to haul intheir grapnels, some to hoist sail, while others thrust the long sweepsoverboard, and the watchers saw them dip.
"Humph!" grunted Uncle Jeff in a low voice to his nephew; "it's a longtime since I was at school, Stan, but I am going to give an order thatused to be very familiar to me in the old days."
"What's that, uncle?" said Stan wonderingly.
"All in to begin, my boy."
"To be sure," said Blunt grimly. "All in to begin it is; not that weneed hurry, for it will be a full half-hour before they can get up hereagainst the sharp current. We'll have it all in--not to begin fighting,but breakfast. In with you, my lads," he cried smartly; "breakfast."
The defenders gave a cheer, and in less than five minutes the Chineseservants were handing round bread-cake, biscuits, and mugs of coffee toall, while the principals carried theirs out to take on the wharf andwatch as well.
In a quarter of an hour Blunt gave orders to the carpenters, and thelast open doorway was, being closed up, while the men rose from what allfelt might be their last meal to take their places for the defence, thenarrow slits at the windows between the closely packed chests and baleslooking very ominous, the more so in their desertion, not the barrel ofa rifle nor a glittering watchful eye being seen.
"All ready?" said Blunt as soon as he reached the upper floor, afterseeing to the last strengthenings being given to the two doors.
A cheer was the answer, and he turned to Uncle Jeff.
"There's plenty of time, sir," he said. "Will you say a few encouragingwords to the men?"
"I'd rather not," replied Uncle Jeff. "I came up here to fight, nottalk."
"But it will encourage them, sir--put heart into them. It does notmatter how few words so long as they are to the point."
"Very well," said Uncle Jeff, flushing, as he drew in a deep breath andfilled out his chest.--"Just a word, my lads, all of you, English andChinese, for we have to fight like brothers to-day."
There was a hearty cheer, and Uncle Jeff seemed to be encouraged bythis, and spoke out more firmly as he went on.
"There's our duty before us," he continued, "to kill or wound as many ofthese murderous savages as we can, for the sake of being left at peaceto earn our livings like men."
There was another cheer at this, and as it died out Uncle Jeffcontinued:
"Then all I have to say more to you is this, that we are going to shareall dangers with you, and in return we ask you to behave like men."
That was all, and the echo of the final words was drowned by a burst ofapplause and cries of "We will! We will!"
"Now," shouted Blunt; "once more: no random shots. Every cartridge usedought to mean one enemy the less, every miss a mistake. Don't fire,then, till you are sure.--Now then, coolies, you with knife, club, andbar will always be ready to come to the first window to help to beatdown the enemy if they try to get in. When not wanted for that, half ofyou are to be ready to hurl back the stink-pots thrown in, and theothers to keep to the buckets and dash out any fire that threatens totake hold. Now then, every man in his place."
There was a rush, and Uncle Jeff, who was watching the coming junks,cocked his rifle.
It was like a clicking signal for every one to do the same, the soundsrunning strangely along the stack-encumbered floor.
Then all was silent till Blunt, who was once more taking the lead, histhin, sunken lineaments giving him a fiercely haggard aspect, spokeagain.
"Here they come," he said; "but no firing until the first men land.Save only for us," he added in a low voice. "You, Mr Lynn--you, Lynnjunior--will do as I do: keep our best marksmanship for the leaders andthe men working and firing the guns."
A low, growling whisper was the reply, and then all watched the comingships with their grotesque heads and listened to the buzzing booming ofthe gongs.
"You gave them a severe lesson last time, Stan," said Blunt afterwatching the manoeuvres of the enemy for a few minutes, not a swivel-gunnor _jingal_ being fired as the junks were worked up in a double lineclose alongside of the wharf, where great hooks were thrown ashore, aswell as from junk to junk. "They're not going to waste time, but arecoming on for a big assault all at once."
"Yes, that's it," said Uncle Jeff calmly. "Well, we must shoot downtheir leaders, and if the rest come on they'll have a hard job to get inat any of the windows."
The gongs kept on their monotonous booming, while the watchers withbated breath noted that the previous losses had made no perceptibledifference, the decks of the clumsy vessels being as thronged as ever,while more discipline was visible, parties of men working together underleaders, and with a wonderful absence of confusion.
"They mean mischief, uncle," said Stan, who found it hard to bear thewaiting, his young blood being full of excitement, and he was longing tobegin.
"So do we, my boy," said Uncle Jeff coolly; "more than they expect. Idon't want to brag, but I learnt to be a good shot, and I feel as if Ican't miss a man at this short distance. You feel the same, don't you?"
"No, uncle; I feel my hands al
l of a shake, and as if I should missevery one I shot at."
"Never mind. Fire away steadily when you begin, boy. As I said before,they are so close that it will not matter; if you miss one man you aresure to hit another."
"But it does seem so murderous, uncle," whispered Stan passionately.
"A mistake, boy: not murderous; it's only justice. We are playing theparts of executioners to criminals."
"Ah! I thought so," said Blunt suddenly.
"Thought what?" cried Stan, who felt glad that the discussion was at anend.
"Look at that smoke rising out from the middle of every junk."
"Stink-pots!" cried Stan excitedly.
"The fire to light them from," was the reply.
Blunt was rights for in a few minutes scores of wreaths of black smokewere rising out of the little fleet, and as soon as the horriblemissiles were well alight the sounding of the gongs stopped for aminute. Then three heavy bangs were given from the nearest boat, anddirectly after the decks were seen clear of the horrible smoke, andseemed to have suddenly begun to bristle with matchlock barrels,pitchforks, tridents, and spears, while every now and then a gleam ofsunlight flashed from some heavy sword-blade.
The scene was weird and strange, for the rapid motion of the crowdingcrews set the smoke wreathing and floating here and there, while thesoft morning breeze wafted the clouds, one minute revealing the deadlypreparations, the next hiding all in smoke.
"A grand sight, Stan," said Uncle Jeff.
"Yes, and such a lovely morning, too," replied the lad.
"Ah! The more fools the enemy not to go peaceably to work or play, andenjoy it, instead of coming out a-murdering for the sake of a few balesof silk and chests of tea. They will have it, so it is not our fault.I'm in hopes, however, that they'll soon have had enough of it when wegive them a taste of what we can do. Hullo! Look out! Here theycome."
"Ah-h!" came like a gasp from Stan's chest as he let the breath he hadbeen holding escape.
For the enemy, in answer to six heavy booms from one gong, were nowwaiting motionless, as if they had been carefully drilled to performsome special evolution.
Then one loud resounding bang, and there was a yell from every junk.
_Crash_! went a dozen gongs then, with their beaters toiling furiously,and every junk was full of motion, their occupants pouring over thesides of the three first on to the wharf, while their places were takenby those in the three outer junks lashed to the inner, and a rush wasmade for the wharf as fast as room was made.
The yelling continued, but there was no firing as yet, all waiting tillthe whole of the pirate force was on shore ready.
Meanwhile the movements had augmented the thick smoke of the stink-pots,whose contents now began to burn fiercely, sparks and flashes of flamedarting through the black fumes.
"Now," cried Blunt suddenly after literally torturing those he commandedby his reticence; "leaders only."
For several showily dressed, red-hatted men began to marshal theirforces previous to a general advance, sending the stink-pot bearers tothe front, ready for the orders for an advance, which seemed to beimminent. Blunt's command was given just as the leaders began to wavetheir swords and the bearers of the barbaric hand-grenades took a stepforward; but no sooner was the order to fire given than three riflesrang out, and three of the leaders went down; while, as directly after aragged volley came from the warehouse loopholes, down went the otherthree leaders, in company with several of the stink-pot bearers, andwith them all the carefully inculcated discipline. For with a savageyell of fury the whole body of men dashed across the wharf towards thebarricaded windows, shaking their weapons, firing at random, and finallymaking way for the companions who were bearing the fuming earthenwarevessels, eager to hurl them in at the first opening they could see.
They rushed on bravely enough, and in a few moments the whole buildingwas resounding and echoing with the casting of the fuming pots, blowsfrom bill-hook, hatchet, and spear, shots from _jingals_, and the shoutsof the attacking force.
In reply a steady fire was kept up by the defenders at the mostprominent of the attacking party, and Uncle Jeff's remarks had plainillustration, for the enemy were literally so thick that where one wasmissed another was hit.
But it seemed to make very little difference. The pirates dashed up tothe front, and then dividing, went off to right and left, to hurryyelling round to the back, meet there, and then rush back again, keepingup a fierce hacking and beating at door and barricaded window; firingtoo, and hurling the blazing pots wherever there seemed to be a chanceto make one lodge, but always to find the lower openings invulnerable,and the grenades fall back among them in company with deadly shots.
In the midst of the wild excitement in front men were raised up on theirfellows' shoulders to get height before hurling in the pots, or toenable others to reach and make deadly thrusts with their spears throughthe loopholes.
Vain effort, for the bearers could not reach high enough, and after afew efforts the coolies within served back such of the stink-pots asreached the inside, and returned them on the heads of the spearmen andtheir bearers, sending the pirates back covered with the blazingmaterial, and yelling with rage and pain, to follow the example set themby others at the former attack and plunge off the wharf into the river.
This assault was kept up for fully ten minutes, the steady resistancesprinkling the level wharf with wounded and dead; but though littleimpression was made, the enemy, in their fierce fury, seemed to be innowise rebuffed. They kept on, their voices and gesticulationscombining with their savage faces to enforce upon the defenders whatmust be their fate should they not succeed in beating their foemen back.
The pressure was kept up without effect till the supply of fierygrenades was exhausted, when, utterly baffled by the calm, steady fire,and discouraged by their utter inability to make an impression, thepirates made a sudden rush back to their vessels. In an instant thefiring ceased, the defenders gladly accepting the respite to see to suchinjuries as had been inflicted, and to extinguish the fire at a coupleof spots where the blazing resin was gradually creeping up one corner ofthe building at a place the coolies had been unable to reach it with thewater without exposing themselves to the spears of the enemy.
The damage proved to be slight, and the personal injuries trifling inthe extreme, merely calling for a little plastering and a bandage, bothbeing dexterously applied by Wing, who seemed quite at home repairingdamages, as Uncle Jeff termed it, the injured coming back to their postsquite as a matter of course, ready for the next onslaught if one came.
Stan clung to the hope that the enemy had learned enough and would nowgo. But he was soon undeceived, for freshly lit pots began to appearamidships of the junks, and as soon as they were blazing well they wereraised, and the men came on again. Then the fight raged once more,being kept on for nearly half-an-hour without a sign of yielding oneither side, while, fast growing weary, Stan began to look anxiouslyfrom one to the other of his two leaders.
It was not till he had glanced at them for the second time that UncleJeff caught his eye, and said quietly as he went on loading and firing:
"They're tough, Stan, but they must give up soon, for they are losingmen fast."
"But what about us, uncle?"
"Eh? Oh, we're all right, my lad. Ah! fire at those two mandarin-likefellows who are hounding the men on."
Their two rifles went off together, and the one Stan fired at stoppedshort and then staggered back towards the nearest junk, while the othermade a dash forward and disappeared round the corner of the building.
"Both badly hit, Stan," said Uncle Jeff. "Let us hope that fellow's toomuch hurt to do any more mischief."
Their attention was taken off again to another party who were makingdesperate efforts to force one of the windows, but without effect. Atlast their success looked likely, for one of the men managed to climbhigh enough to get a knee on the sill of the opening; and help from hiscompanions coming at the right momen
t, he raised himself up, spear inhand, and was just about to spring in, while others were following, whenthrusts were made with a couple of rifle-barrels and the man's balancewas destroyed, making him leap backward to avoid a heavy fall, and beingcaught by his companions, who were surging about beneath the windows.
An exultant yell told the defenders that the enemy were satisfied thatthis was nearly an accomplishment of their desires, and encouraged nowwith the thought that the task was possible, the men came on like afurious wave, literally hurling themselves frantically against the wallsand, regardless of life, swarming up at every opening.
"Getting warm," shouted Uncle Jeff to Blunt. "Try and keep your mencool; the enemy can't carry this on long."
"I'm doing my best with them," said Blunt, shouting to make his voiceheard in the frightful din, and having a narrow escape, for one of theflaming pots came full in his face, to be avoided by a sharp wince, andthen crashed down on the floor, where a coolie pounced upon it anddashed it flaming back.
"Good, Stan!" shouted Uncle Jeff in his nephew's ear. "I saw you bringdown the fellow who flung that wretched thing. Quick, boy! Firefaster.--Fire, all of you; they're coming on more and more. How manyare there of the wretches?"
"I'm firing as fast as I can, uncle," cried Stan; "but I'm afraid thatthey're doing something round at the back."
"Then don't be afraid--don't be afraid of anything," growled Uncle Jeff."We don't want imagination to help the real. That is bad enough.--Hah!That has settled you, my bloodthirsty scoundrel!" he growled as hereached out and shot a man down. But a spear came darting up andscratched the side of his face, making him utter an angry snarl, whilehis eyes lit up with rage as he glared through a loophole at theswarming enemy raging about beneath as if nothing but the defenders'blood would suffice.
"Not going to be too much for us, are they?" thought Stan, whose bloodwas well up; but a slight feeling of dread attacked him as to theirfuture. For the enemy seemed, in spite of their losses, by no meansquelled, only spurred on to fresh attacks, which grew fiercer as themoments glided by.
"Eh? What?" cried Uncle Jeff suddenly, as a blue-frocked, particularlyclean and tidy-looking individual forced his way amongst thepowder-and-pitch-smoke blackened party of four defending Stan's window.
"You here, Wing?" cried Stan, turning from taking aim, and feeling ahand grasp his arm.
"Come, quick!" cried the Chinaman, with a highly pitched squeak."Pilate got in bottom. Plenty lot come 'long fast; cuttee allee float."
"Quick, all!" roared Blunt at that moment. "The stairs--the stairs!"
A rush was made towards the opening, and Uncle Jeff sprang to the headof the broad stairs, just in time to bring his rifle-butt down on thehead of a big Chinaman who, holding a great sword in both hands, wasreaching forward to cut under the arms of Blunt, who was swinging hispiece round, clubbed, to beat back three or four of the enemy who werecrowding up.
Down came Blunt's rifle, and with it two of the enemy; but half-a-dozenmore were springing up ready to receive a tremendous blow from UncleJeff--a too tremendous blow, for though it tumbled one man down uponthose beneath, the stock of the rifle went after him, and the barrel hadto be used as a weapon alone.
Meanwhile Stan had dropped upon one knee, and waiting his opportunity,fired and brought down the next swordsman who reached up to cut at hisuncle.
They were desperate moments, but those three held the pirates in checkby their efforts till they were reinforced by the coolies who had dealtwith the fire-pots, these flinging themselves bravely forward in defenceof their masters; and the check grew more severe, giving the defenderstime to improve their position.
Stan was the first to make a suggestion, and it was to Wing.
"Bring me a bale here," he said, "to fight over."
"Yes, and let's have more and more," cried Uncle Jeff.
Wing showed no signs of his old injury, and as he jabbered fiercely tothe coolies, they followed his example, and in an incredibly short spaceof time bales and tea-chests were thrust to the edge of the broadopening, forming something of a defence against the attacking party, whowere checked but not damped, for three of the defenders of the windowscame to Stan's help, firing with him from behind the new breastwork,over which Uncle Jeff raged like an angry lion; while Blunt, whosestrength was failing fast, only struck at intervals as opportunitiescame.
"It's all over," thought Stan as he kept on loading and firingmechanically, for it was plain enough that somehow or another the enemyhad forced a way into the lower floor, through which they were shoutingdefiance and fulminating threats; but they made no farther progress, forheads had only to be shown up the stairs for their owners to be beatendown by rifle-barrel or pistol-butt, and their supporters to stumbleback or be riddled by one or other of the bullets that were fired withunerring aim.
"Oh deah!" came in a whining voice close to Stan's ear in a momentarypause between two attacks; and turning his head sharply as his fingerswere busy with the breech of his piece, there, bent over him, was Wing,with a tremendous knife in his hand. "Wing wish to be fighting-man.Allee fall downee. Pilate come fastee fastee. Look, look! Going bulnevelybody up."
Wing's eyes and nostrils had been busier than Stan's, for, engrossed ashe was with his firing, he had seen nothing but those who were about toattack his uncle, and the greatest peril of all had escaped his notice.
But now it was patent to him that they were getting to the last of theirdefence, though still he felt in nowise ready to give up.
"See that, uncle?" he panted.
"Yes, my boy; they're going to make our fall warm for us."
"But the water-buckets!"
"No good, my lad, unless they can be well applied, and our coolies arehelpless to do anything here."
"Fire!" cried Blunt hoarsely.
"Yes, fire," said Uncle Jeff; "but don't slacken your efforts, man.Keep at it, hard; the wretches may get sick after all. If not, I hopethey will be caught in their own trap."
"But us--your nephew--escape?"
"I don't see how," said Uncle Jeff.--"Do you think you could make a jumpfrom one of the windows and run for it out into one of the rice-fieldsand hide, Stan?"
"Are you all coming too, uncle?" said the lad.
"No, my boy; it is impossible. We must fight to the last."
"Yes," said Stan quietly; "of course it's impossible. I should onlyjump into a crowd and be hacked to pieces. I'd rather stay here."
Uncle Jeff was silent, but he lowered one hand to squeeze his nephew's.
"Bless you, my boy!" he said hoarsely. "It's very hard, but there'snothing for it unless help comes."
"And no help will come that I can see," panted Blunt, who was reelingwith weakness.
"Ah-h-h! Takee ca'e!" shrieked Wing, bringing down his big knife withall his might, as, regardless of flame and smoke rising with stiflingfumes through the square opening of the stairs, some half-dozen of theenemy made a rush to get at the defenders. And once more a desperatestruggle ensued, which was repeated till the suffocating wreaths weretoo much even for the much-diminished attacking party, who now drew backto make way for a strong force of their companions. These rushed to thefoot of the stairs to hurl about a dozen of the flaming missiles up atthe defenders, and then dashed away again, just in time to escape afurious burst of flame which indicated that the fire was beginning torage below; in fact, within five minutes the staircase was perfectlyimpassable, the flames roaring up being augmented with fresh fuel by theenemy, who hurled in pot after pot.
"No escape there, Stan," said Uncle Jeff as they drew back from thescorching heat.
"But no more attack, uncle," replied Stan. "We are safe from that."
"And safe to be burned out."
"Yes," said Blunt bitterly; "but we can't die like this.--Come, my lads,back to the windows, and let us make the wretches feel that they willhave to go on paying for our lives to the last."
"Yes," said Uncle Jeff solemnly; "it has all been bravely done, and sow
e have done our duty. I suppose we could not make a dash from onewindow and fight our way to some boat?"
"No," said Blunt as he shared the old window with them again, the mengoing back to their former stations--"no; it would be utter madness totry it. Ah I look below."
"Yes; swarming with their spears," said Uncle Jeff.
"To catch us as we spring out from the fire," cried Stan. "Oh uncle,can we do nothing?"
"Nothing but kill a few more of the wretches before we go, my boy. Ishould be acting the part of a coward now if I did not own that we havereached the worst."
"Oh uncle," cried Stan passionately, "why did you come?"
"To help you, boy; and I am sorry I've failed. There! shake hands, mydear lad; life is always short, but this is too short for you."
"Fire! fire!" cried Blunt passionately. "My rifle's useless, and inanother ten minutes we shall be too late."
Stan looked wildly round as he raised his rifle to fire through theloophole again at the wretches waiting to catch them on bristlingtrident forks and spears, and it seemed a mockery, though therifle-shots were fast pattering down, for him to think of destroyingstill more life when so near the termination of his own; but Blunt washis captain to the last, and his eye was on the sight, his finger on thetrigger, and almost by instinct he was marking down one of the wretchesright in front. Once more his nerves were tensely strained, and inanother instant the enemy before him would have fallen, dangerouslywounded if not dead, when there was a sudden shock, as if the fire hadreached the little magazine and the cartridges had proved how they wouldact under the circumstances. The place literally rocked, there was adeafening roar, and the savage yelling of the attacking force wasdrowned.