The Nameless Island: A Story of Some Modern Robinson Crusoes
Page 12
CHAPTER XII
AT BAY
Once clear of the reef, the canoes ceased paddling, and the browncocoa-fibre sails were hoisted.
The yawl, by reason of her superior spread of canvas, soon forged aheadtill, drawing in line with the largest canoe, in which were Blight andthe head man of the tribe, the speed was regulated so as to keep withinhailing distance of the ex-pearler.
Mr. McKay had already been given a rough chart of the island of Ahii.Like their own island and Ni Atong, Ahii was surrounded by a reef, onlythat on the eastern side the rocky barrier practically touched theshore. There were four large passages through the reef, two on thesouthern side--which they were approaching--one on the western, and thefourth on the northern.
The summit of Ahii was clearly visible from Ni Atong, and as theflotilla neared the island its peculiarities could be graduallydiscerned. It was considerably larger than McKay's Island, andcomposed chiefly of a dark brown rock, its flat portions covered withverdure. The general outline resembled a saddle, the higher of the twopeaks being over two thousand feet above the sea.
But in place of the glistening sands of McKay's Island there was abeach of black sand, apparently the ground-up deposit of lava, for fromthe lower of the two peaks a thin cloud of smoke was emitted, showingthat Ahii was still an active volcano.
At the western termination of the beach was perceived the entrance to asmall creek, while beyond this opening low, dark-coloured cliffs rosesheer from the sea.
The approach of the invaders was observed long before the flotillareached the entrance of the lagoon, and by the aid of their telescopesand field-glasses the crew of the yawl saw that the beach was linedwith warriors, armed with formidable beak-headed clubs, long spears andoblong shields, the natives being bedecked with barbaric finery andplentifully bedaubed with paint and ochre.
"That's their boat harbour," shouted Blight, pointing to the creek."Their canoes are drawn up on the banks about half-a-mile up the river.The village is on the port side. Shall I tell our men to push right inand burn their blessed canoes?"
"No," replied Mr. McKay. "I don't want unnecessary violence; besides,if their canoes are destroyed, how can they leave the island? Let ourboats remain about two hundred yards from shore. You will then standin the chief's canoe and tell the natives to clear out. Say that wegive them till midday. Otherwise we must open fire on them."
"Then you don't want these fellows to have a set-to?"
"No! No bloodshed unless it cannot possibly be avoided. Now carry onand we'll be ready to open fire to cover your retreat if they givetrouble."
Blight could not but obey. The chief's canoe was paddled slowlytowards the shore, the natives regarding the late inhabitants of Ahiiwith contemptuous gestures not unmingled with curiosity. They expecteda mad rush, a fierce conflict on the shore, and an easy victory; butthe apparently timorous approach of a solitary canoe mystified them.
THE CHIEF'S CANOE WAS PADDLED SLOWLY TOWARDS THE SHORE]
The ex-pearler stood up and shouted to the hostile chiefs. Whether hegave Mr. McKay's message in a conciliatory manner the Australian wasnot in a position to ascertain. More than likely, Blight, with a whiteman's contempt for "niggers," put his own construction upon therequest, for before he had spoken half-a-dozen sentences there was ablood-curdling yell, and a shower of stones was hurled at the canoe.
The crew paddled out of range, while their companions, with loudcounter-shouts of defiance, urged their boat to the attack, till bydint of much hand-waving Mr. McKay kept them temporarily in check.
"They've asked us to come ashore and be made into 'big pig,'" shoutedBlight. "Shall we let our men loose?"
"Not here," replied Mr. McKay. "Paddle along the shore and we'll makea landing as far from the village as possible. That will give theenemy a chance to clear out if they get the worst of it."
Headed by the yawl, the little fleet kept parallel with the shore, acrowd of about two thousand armed savages keeping pace with theinvaders, yelling, dancing, brandishing their weapons, and hurling thedirest insults of which the natives were capable at their apparentlyinferior enemies.
"It must be a sharp lesson, lads," observed Mr. McKay. "What wouldn'tI give for a Maxim or an automatic Colt. Ellerton, you take the helmand keep the boat just so, no nearer to shore."
The flotilla was now abreast of that part of the beach that wasterminated by the cliffs. Here the flat shore consisted of awedge-shaped piece of ground, so narrow that the enemy was unable totake due advantage of its superiority in numbers. The rapid fire offour magazine rifles would play havoc with the dense serried ranks ofbronzed and painted warriors, but still Mr. McKay refrained from makingthe first advance.
"Let them fight it out between themselves," he shouted to Blight, who,however eager he was to send the natives to the fight, did not show anystrong inclination to lead them. "We'll open fire if our fellows getthe worst of it."
It was plainly impossible to keep the invaders in hand. With a roar ofdefiance that momentarily drowned the yells of their more numerousadversaries, the natives urged their canoes towards the shore.
Then, as craft after craft grounded upon the beach, their crews droppedpaddles, grasped their clubs and spears, and plunged waist deep intothe water.
It was a veritable struggle between a host of bronzed paladins.
Clubs met with a loud and ponderous clang, spears met shields or elsefound a softer billet, while those of the defenders of the island whocould not gain the van hurled enormous stones over the heads of theirforemost ranks at their vindictive foes.
Above the shouts of the combatants could be heard the shrieks of thedesperately wounded.
Several received serious wounds on both sides, yet save in extremecases, they bore their hurts bravely, returning to the fray with theutmost determination, till failing strength caused them to drop, stillfighting so long as they could wield a club or thrust with a spear.
Twice the rightful inhabitants of Ahii gained a footing on the shore,and twice were they swept back by the weight of numbers, for as fast asone of the defenders fell, another filled his place, while on the otherhand the invaders had no reserves. True, there were the white men, butit was impossible to wield a rifle without serious consequence tofriend as well as foe.
"How these fellows fight!" exclaimed Andy. "They simply won't giveway; they'll be exterminated."
"It's fighting for fighting's sake," replied his father. "We must chipin or we'll find ourselves opposed to the whole island without a nativeto help us. Luff her up, Ellerton. That's right; now keep her as sheis."
The yawl moved slowly in the opposite direction to her previous course,though still parallel with the shore. By this means the scene of theactual struggle was passed and only the serried rearguard of thedefenders was abeam.
"Now, lads, aim low!"
The four rifles opened a rapid fire. It seemed like butchery, yet, asMr. McKay had said, there was no alternative. Twenty human beingscannot stop a modern rifle-bullet fired at one hundred yards' range.
The defence seemed to melt away, and with redoubled shouts of triumphthe friendly natives started in pursuit of the fugitives, knocking overthe head all who were overtaken.
"If those fellows won't keep in hand, they will be in danger of beingcut off," exclaimed Mr. McKay. "We must follow our friends up.Ellerton, you stay on board, and keep our craft underway."
Hurriedly the two McKays, Terence, and Quexo jumped into the tender,rowed ashore, and followed the ghastly trail of the victorious natives.
It was a hazardous undertaking, for some of the fugitives had fledinland instead of following their main body in their retreat upon thevillage. At any moment these might rally and fall upon the little bandof white men, the dense scrub being favourable for such tactics.
There was no sign of Jimmy Blight. He had not accompanied the nativesin their first attack, although he was known to have been in thechief's canoe, nor had he made his appearance when the white
partylanded.
"Keep a bright look-out, lads," cautioned Mr. McKay. "Have yourrevolvers ready. They are more serviceable than rifles here."
At almost every yard of the way lay natives either dead or grievouslywounded. Many of the latter were bold enough to attempt to rise andthreaten the white men. So far as possible, the wounded were ignored,greatly to their surprise, for a savage rarely gives and never expectsquarter.
Once or twice, however, a warrior would spring to his feet after thewhite men had passed, and with his remaining energy throw his club orspear at his enemies. In that case it became necessary to silence thedesperate native for ever.
Suddenly from the shelter of a dense belt of scrub three powerfulblacks dashed upon Quexo, who had strayed a few yards behind the restof the party.
The mulatto raised his revolver and fired, and a huge native sprang agood three feet in the air and tumbled on his face. But ere Quexocould repeat his shot a triple-barbed spear pierced his shoulder. Hefell, the weapon still embedded in his flesh.
The man who had thrown the lance drew a stone knife, and threw himselfupon the prostrate mulatto, while the third native raised his club tocomplete the business.
With admirable presence of mind Quexo shot the man with the club, whoin his fall completely covered the hapless mulatto.
Alarmed by the first shot, Mr. McKay and the two lads ran to the aid oftheir companion, but ere they emerged from the bush a third shot rangout, and the savage who had hurled the spear at the mulatto fell shotthrough the head.
Then as Andy rushed to the spot where Quexo lay, Jimmy Blight steppedfrom the cover of a group of palm trees.
"Not a bad shot, eh, boss?" he exclaimed, as he thrust fresh cartridgesinto his revolver. "You'd best get your young fellow on board as quickas you can, I reckon."
Quexo was groaning dismally, now the actual struggle was over. Thetriple spear-head had made a ghastly wound in his shoulder, for in hisfall the haft had broken off short. Mr. McKay managed to extract itskilfully.
In the midst of their misfortunes the roar of the combatants camenearer and nearer. The enemy had rallied; the savages were drivingback their attackers. Already men were streaming by, flying for theirlives.
"Guess we'd best hook it," exclaimed Blight.
"Bear a hand, Andy," said his father, as he pointed to his helplessservant.
"Don't be a fool, boss!" shouted the ex-pearler, who was alreadybeginning to retire. "He's about done for, and we'll be the same if westop. Come along!"
"Not I," replied Mr. McKay sturdily. "You go if you want to. Come on,Andy, move him across to yonder thicket. We'll make a last stand hereif it comes to the worst."
Something in Mr. McKay's reply must have appealed to the better natureof this low-down specimen of the white race, for, turning swiftly onhis heel, he returned. Kneeling beside the unconscious man he helpedhimself to his bandolier, revolver, and rifle.
Without another word the four men lifted Quexo to the shelter of thetrees, and quietly and resolutely made ready to receive the horde oftriumphant savages.