21

The Attack

AS soon as Silver disappeared, the captain, who had been closely

watching him, turned towards the interior of the house and found

not a man of us at his post but Gray. It was the first time

we had ever seen him angry.

"Quarters!" he roared. And then, as we all slunk back to our places,

"Gray," he said, "I'll put your name in the log; you've stood by

your duty like a seaman. Mr. Trelawney, I'm surprised at you, sir.

Doctor, I thought you had worn the king's coat! If that was how

you served at Fontenoy, sir, you'd have been better in your berth."

The doctor's watch were all back at their loopholes,

the rest were busy loading the spare muskets,

and everyone with a red face, you may be certain,

and a flea in his ear, as the saying is.

The captain looked on for a while in silence. Then he spoke.

"My lads," said he, "I've given Silver a broadside. I pitched it in

red-hot on purpose; and before the hour's out, as he said,

we shall be boarded. We're outnumbered, I needn't tell you that,

but we fight in shelter; and a minute ago I should have said

we fought with discipline. I've no manner of doubt that we can

drub them, if you choose."

Then he went the rounds and saw, as he said, that all was clear.

On the two short sides of the house, east and west, there were only

two loopholes; on the south side where the porch was, two again;

and on the north side, five. There was a round score of muskets

for the seven of us; the firewood had been built into four piles--

tables, you might say--one about the middle of each side,

and on each of these tables some ammunition and four loaded

muskets were laid ready to the hand of the defenders.

In the middle, the cutlasses lay ranged.

"Toss out the fire," said the captain; "the chill is past,

and we mustn't have smoke in our eyes."

The iron fire-basket was carried bodily out by Mr. Trelawney,

and the embers smothered among sand.

"Hawkins hasn't had his breakfast. Hawkins, help yourself,

and back to your post to eat it," continued Captain Smollett.

"Lively, now, my lad; you'll want it before you've done.

Hunter, serve out a round of brandy to all hands."

And while this was going on, the captain completed,

in his own mind, the plan of the defence.

"Doctor, you will take the door," he resumed. "See, and don't

expose yourself; keep within, and fire through the porch.

Hunter, take the east side, there. Joyce, you stand by the west,

my man. Mr. Trelawney, you are the best shot--you and Gray

will take this long north side, with the five loopholes;

it's there the danger is. If they can get up to it and fire in upon us

through our own ports, things would begin to look dirty.

Hawkins, neither you nor I are much account at the shooting;

we'll stand by to load and bear a hand."

As the captain had said, the chill was past. As soon as the sun

had climbed above our girdle of trees, it fell with all its force

upon the clearing and drank up the vapours at a draught.

Soon the sane was baking and the resin melting in the logs

of the block house. Jackets and coats were flung aside,

shirts thrown open at the neck and rolled up to the shoulders;

and we stood there, each at his post, in a fever of heat and anxiety.

An hour passed away.

"Hang them!" said the captain. "This is as dull as the doldrums.

Gray, whistle for a wind."

And just at that moment came the first news of the attack.

"If you please, sir," said Joyce, "if I see anyone, am I to fire?"

"I told you so!" cried the captain.

"Thank you, sir," returned Joyce with the same quiet civility.

Nothing followed for a time, but the remark had set us all on the

alert, straining ears and eyes--the musketeers with their pieces

balanced in their hands, the captain out in the middle of the

block house with his mouth very tight and a frown on his face.

So some seconds passed, till suddenly Joyce whipped up

his musket and fired. The report had scarcely died away

ere it was repeated and repeated from without in a scattering volley,

shot behind shot, like a string of geese, from every side

of the enclosure. Several bullets struck the log-house,

but not one entered; and as the smoke cleared away and vanished,

the stockade and the woods around it looked as quiet and empty

as before. Not a bough waved, not the gleam of a musket-barrel

betrayed the presence of our foes.

"Did you hit your man?" asked the captain.

"No, sir," replied Joyce. "I believe not, sir."

"Next best thing to tell the truth," muttered Captain Smollett.

"Load his gun, Hawkins. How many should say there were

on your side, doctor?"

"I know precisely," said Dr. Livesey. "Three shots were fired

on this side. I saw the three flashes--two close together--

one farther to the west."

"Three!" repeated the captain. "And how many on yours,

Mr. Trelawney?"

But this was not so easily answered. There had come many

from the north--seven by the squire's computation, eight or nine

according to Gray. From the east and west only a single shot

had been fired. It was plain, therefore, that the attack would be

developed from the north and that on the other three sides

we were only to be annoyed by a show of hostilities.

But Captain Smollett made no change in his arrangements.

If the mutineers succeeded in crossing the stockade, he argued,

they would take possession of any unprotected loophole

and shoot us down like rats in our own stronghold.

Nor had we much time left to us for thought. Suddenly,

with a loud huzza, a little cloud of pirates leaped from the woods

on the north side and ran straight on the stockade.

At the same moment, the fire was once more opened

from the woods, and a rifle ball sang through the doorway

and knocked the doctor's musket into bits.

The boarders swarmed over the fence like monkeys.

Squire and Gray fired again and yet again; three men fell,

one forwards into the enclosure, two back on the outside.

But of these, one was evidently more frightened than hurt,

for he was on his feet again in a crack and instantly disappeared

among the trees.

Two had bit the dust, one had fled, four had made good

their footing inside our defences, while from the shelter

of the woods seven or eight men, each evidently supplied

with several muskets, kept up a hot though useless fire

on the log-house.

The four who had boarded made straight before them for

the building, shouting as they ran, and the men among the trees

shouted back to encourage them. Several shots were fired,

but such was the hurry of the marksmen that not one appears

to have taken effect. In a moment, the four pirates had swarmed

up the mound and were upon us.

The head of Job Anderson, the boatswain, appeared at the middle

loophole.

"At 'em, all hands--all hands!" he roared in a voice of thunder.

At the same moment, another pirate grasped Hunter's musket

by the muzzle, wrenched it from his hands, plucked it

through the loophole, and with one stunning blow,

laid the poor fellow senseless on the floor. Meanwhile a third,

running unharmed all around the house, appeared suddenly

in the doorway and fell with his cutlass on the doctor.

Our position was utterly reversed. A moment since we were firing,

under cover, at an exposed enemy; now it was we who lay

uncovered and could not return a blow.

The log-house was full of smoke, to which we owed

our comparative safety. Cries and confusion, the flashes and

reports of pistol-shots, and one loud groan rang in my ears.

"Out, lads, out, and fight 'em in the open!

Cutlasses!" cried the captain.

I snatched a cutlass from the pile, and someone, at the same time

snatching another, gave me a cut across the knuckles which I

hardly felt. I dashed out of the door into the clear sunlight.

Someone was close behind, I knew not whom. Right in front,

the doctor was pursuing his assailant down the hill,

and just as my eyes fell upon him, beat down his guard

and sent him sprawling on his back with a great slash

across the face.

"Round the house, lads! Round the house!" cried the captain;

and even in the hurly-burly, I perceived a change in his voice.

Mechanically, I obeyed, turned eastwards, and with my cutlass

raised, ran round the corner of the house.Next moment I was

face to face with Anderson. He roared aloud, and his hanger

went up above his head, flashing in the sunlight. I had not time

to be afraid, but as the blow still hung impending, leaped in a trice

upon one side, and missing my foot in the soft sand,

rolled headlong down the slope.

When I had first sallied from the door, the other mutineers

had been already swarming up the palisade to make an end of us.

One man, in a red night-cap, with his cutlass in his mouth,

had even got upon the top and thrown a leg across. Well, so short

had been the interval that when I found my feet again

all was in the same posture, the fellow with the red night-cap

still half-way over, another still just showing his head

above the top of the stockade. And yet, in this breath of time,

the fight was over and the victory was ours.

Gray, following close behind me, had cut down the big boatswain

ere he had time to recover from his last blow. Another had been

shot at a loophole in the very act of firing into the house

and now lay in agony, the pistol still smoking in his hand.

A third, as I had seen, the doctor had disposed of at a blow.

Of the four who had scaled the palisade, one only remained

unaccounted for, and he, having left his cutlass on the field,

was now clambering out again with the fear of death upon him.

"Fire--fire from the house!" cried the doctor. "And you, lads,

back into cover."

But his words were unheeded, no shot was fired, and the

last boarder made good his escape and disappeared with the rest

into the wood. In three seconds nothing remained of the attacking

party but the five who had fallen, four on the inside and one

on the outside of the palisade.

The doctor and Gray and I ran full speed for shelter.

The survivors would soon be back where they had left

their muskets, and at any moment the fire might recommence.

The house was by this time somewhat cleared of smoke,

and we saw at a glance the price we had paid for victory.

Hunter lay beside his loophole, stunned; Joyce by his, shot through

the head, never to move again; while right in the centre,

the squire was supporting the captain, one as pale as the other.

"The captain's wounded," said Mr. Trelawney.

"Have they run?" asked Mr. Smollett.

"All that could, you may be bound," returned the doctor;

"but there's five of them will never run again."

"Five!" cried the captain. "Come, that's better. Five against three

leaves us four to nine. That's better odds than we had at starting.

We were seven to nineteen then, or thought we were,

and that's as bad to bear."*

*The mutineers were soon only eight in number, for the man

shot by Mr. Trelawney on board the schooner died

that same evening of his wound. But this was,

of course, not known till after by the faithful party.

****

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