Fire Island Part 40
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Smith was behind him with the ropes over his shoulder, and Wriggs now bore the ladder, coming last.
For some minutes they had been walking in utter silence, their footsteps deadened by the soft sand, and a terribly drowsy feeling was coming over Lane, making him long to lie down and sleep, but he fought it back and strained his eyes to gaze forward in search of obstacles, knowing as he did that the others were trusting him to pick out the best road and keep them out of difficulties.
But it was very dark in spite of the stars, and hard to make anything out till, all at once, he saw a misty and strange-looking form run by, about twenty yards ahead.
"What's that?" he said to himself, and then he started, for Smith caught his arm, and whispered,--
"Mr Lane, sir? See that?"
"Yes, what was it? Was it a deer?" and he involuntarily lowered his piece.
"Two legged 'un, sir, if it was," said the man, softly. "Will you call a halt? I think it was a hinjun."
"Nonsense. One of our men, perhaps," said Oliver, testily. "Don't say that and scare them. We're close up to the s.h.i.+p now."
_Bang_.
The sharp report of a piece came from about a couple of hundred yards farther on.
"There; I knew we were close up to the brig. Mr Rimmer fired that as a signal to let us know the way in the darkness. I'll fire him one back."
The lock clicked and Oliver raised the muzzle to fire, when a ragged volley came from ahead, followed by a savage yelling, and as the sounds struck a chill to every heart there was utter silence. Then came a flash and a bright gleam, which grew brighter and brighter, developing into the sickly glare of a blue light, while as they stood there, fearing to advance, all grasped the meaning of the light.
The brig had been attacked by the Indians. A gallant defence was being made, and the blue light had been thrown out to show where the enemy lay.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.
AN AWKWARD Sc.r.a.pE.
The first impulse of Oliver Lane was to drop down flat upon the sun-baked sand and earth, so as to protect himself from being seen in the glare of the blue light. His example was followed by the others, whose thoughts reverted also to the possibility of a bullet intended for the enemy, hitting a friend.
And there they lay listening after the dying out of the yells, and watching the glare from the blue light as it lit up the surroundings of the brig, and then sank lower and lower till all was darkness as well as silence.
Judging from what they heard, Mr Rimmer and his men were safe enough so far, and had been aware of the Indians' attack. But what was to come next?
The watchers asked themselves this question as they lay close together listening for the slightest sound, waiting for a solution of the little problem which had so much to do with their future: Had the enemy seen them when the light was burning?
Long-drawn-out minutes pa.s.sed as they waited in the darkness, now hopeful, now despondent, for Oliver felt a touch on his arm simultaneously with a soft, rustling sound, and the _pat, pat_ of naked feet going over the sand.
The message of danger was silently telegraphed by a touch to the others, and every weapon was grasped, those who had guns slightly raising the muzzles, while Smith took out his jack-knife to open it with his teeth, and Wriggs, to use his own words--afterwards spoken--"stood by" with the ladder, meaning to use it as a battering-ram to drive it at any enemy who approached.
But the sound pa.s.sed over to their right, and all was silent again.
"Hadn't we better creep up to the s.h.i.+p?" whispered Oliver.
"And be shot for enemies?" replied Panton, in the same tone.
"They haven't seen us, so we had better wait till morning."
"And then make ourselves marks for spears and arrows."
"Better than for bullets. I'd rather a savage mop-headed Papuan shot me, than Mr Rimmer did."
"Hist! Silence!" whispered Drew, who had crept closer. "Enemy."
He was right, for footsteps were heard again, coming from the direction of the brig, and it seemed like a second party following the first, till it occurred to Panton that this might be the same party returning from pa.s.sing right round the vessel.
But they had no means of knowing, and a few minutes later they all lay there asking themselves whether they would not have acted more wisely if they had fired a volley into the enemy when they first came up, and followed up the confusion the shots would have caused by rus.h.i.+ng to the brig.
"They would not have taken us for the enemy then," said Drew.
But the opportunity had gone by, and to add to their discomfort, a low, murmuring sound indicated that the savages had come to a halt between them and their friends.
For a good hour the party waited in the hope that the enemy would move away, but it soon became evident that they had settled down for a permanent halt, and the murmur of voices came so clearly to the ear that all felt the danger of attempting to speak, lest they should bring the enemy upon them.
Somehow, in spite of his being the youngest, Drew and Panton fell into the habit of letting Oliver Lane take the post of leader, and when after a long and wearisome period of waiting he whispered his ideas, they were accepted at once, as being the most sensible under the circ.u.mstances.
Oliver's plan was this: to gradually creep back from the position they occupied, until they felt that they were out of hearing, and then to bear off to their left, and gradually get round to the other side of the brig, which would thus be placed between them and the enemy.
The greatest caution was necessary in the presence of so wary a foe, and it was not until this had been duly impressed upon the two sailors that Oliver began the retrograde movement so slowly and softly that his companions could hardly realise the fact that he had started.
Panton followed, then Smith and Wriggs, and Drew brought up the rear.
They had all risen and followed one another in Indian file, almost without a sound. But the murmuring that was made by the Papuans came softly through the darkness, as if the savages were engaged in a debate upon the subject of how they had better make their next attack.
Then all at once there was a sharp crack, for Oliver had stepped upon a large, thin sh.e.l.l, which broke up with a fine ear-piercing sound, that must have penetrated for a long distance.
That it had reached the spot where the Papuans were was evident, for the murmuring of voices ceased on the instant.
"Down. Lie down," whispered Oliver. "They will come to see what the noise was."
They lay down upon the soft sand, listening with every nerve upon the strain, but not for long. Before many seconds had pa.s.sed, there was a peculiar soft, rattling sound such as would be made by a bundle of reed arrows, secure at one end and loose at the other. This noise came nearer, and then at a little distance, as they held their breath, it seemed as if a shadow pa.s.sed by, and then another, and another.
Oliver's hand which held his gun trembled, not from fear, but from the nervous strain, and the knowledge that at any moment he might, for the first time in his life, be compelled in self-defence, and for the protection of his companions, to fire upon a party of savages, and so shed the blood of a human being.
He stretched out his left hand as the third shadowy figure went lightly by, and touched Panton's arm, to have the extended hand caught and pressed warmly.
This was encouraging, and told of a trusty friend ready to help. Then they lay there upon their b.r.e.a.s.t.s for some minutes, gazing in the direction taken by the enemy, while the impressive silence continued.
At last came a quick, sharp pressure of the hand, which seemed to imply--Look out! Here they come.
For at that moment, the quick, soft beat of feet came again, and three shadowy figures pa.s.sed so close to them that it seemed impossible for them to remain unseen, but their clothes a.s.similated so with the sun-burned sand and earth that the enemy pa.s.sed on, and in a minute or two the murmuring of voices arose once more.
"Come on," whispered Oliver, and he rose quickly, while the word was pa.s.sed to the others, and they recommenced their retreat, taking every step cautiously.
It was not an easy task, for there was no judging distances by any object, and hence Oliver had to walk straight away into the darkness, till he guessed that he was far enough distant. Then he began to veer round to his right, and he had hardly done this, when from somewhere behind came a sharp sound, best expressed by the word _Thung_!
accompanied by a sharp whizz.
Fire Island Part 40
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Fire Island Part 40 summary
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