CHAPTER EIGHT.
A SURPRISE--A BATTLE AND A FIRE.
The sound of the Sabbath bell fell sweetly on the pastor's ear as hedescended to his dwelling to make a few final preparations for theduties of the day, and from every hut in Sandy Cove trooped forth thenative Christians--young and old--to assemble in the house of God.
With great labour and much pains had this church been built, and pastorand people alike were not a little proud of their handiwork. The formerhad drawn the plans and given the measurements, leaving it to HenryStuart to see them properly carried out in detail, while the latter didthe work. They cut and squared the timbers, gathered the coral, burntit for lime and plastered the building. The women and children carriedthe lime from the beach in baskets, and the men dragged the heavy logsfrom the mountains--in some cases for several miles--the timber in theimmediate neighbourhood not being sufficiently large for their purpose.
The poor natives worked with heart and soul--for love, and the desire toplease and to be pleased, had been awakened within them. Besides this,the work had for them all the zest of novelty. They wrought at it withsomewhat of the feelings of children at play,--pausing frequently in themidst of their toil to gaze in wonder and admiration at the growingedifice, which would have done no little credit to a professionalarchitect and to more skilled workmen.
The white men of the place also lent a willing hand; for although someof them were bad men, yet they were constrained to respect theconsistent character and blameless life of the missionary, who notunfrequently experienced the fulfilment of that word:
"When a man's ways please the Lord, he maketh even his enemies to be atpeace with him." Besides this, all of them, however unwilling theymight be to accept Christianity for themselves, were fully alive to theadvantages they derived from its introduction among the natives.
With so many willing hands at work, the little church was soon finished;and, at the time when the events we are describing occurred, there wasnothing to be done to it except some trifling arrangements connectedwith the steeple, and the glazing of the windows. This latter piece ofwork was, in such a climate, of little importance.
Long before the bell had ceased to toll, the church was full of natives,whose dark, eager faces were turned towards the door, in expectation ofthe appearance of their pastor. The building was so full, that many ofthe people were content to cluster round the door, or the outside of theunglazed windows. On this particular Sunday, there were strangersthere, who roused the curiosity and attracted the attention of thecongregation. Before Mr Mason arrived, there was a slight bustle atthe door as Captain Montague, with several of his officers and men,entered, and were shewn to the missionary's seat by Master Corrie, who,with his round visage elongated as much as possible, and his round eyesexpressing a look of inhuman solemnity, in consequence of his attempt toaffect a virtue which he did not possess, performed the duties ofdoor-keeper. Montague had come on shore to ascertain from Mr Masonwhat likelihood there was of an early attack by the natives.
"Where's Alice," whispered the boy to Poopy, as the girl entered thechurch, and seated herself beside a little midshipman, who looked at herwith a mingled expression of disgust and contempt, and edged away.
"Got a little headache, hee! hee!"
"Don't laugh in church, you monster," said Corrie, with a frown.
"I'se not larfin," retorted Poopy, with an injured look.
Just then the boy caught sight of a gigantic figure entering the church,and darted away to usher the stranger into the pastor's seat; butGascoyne (for it was he) took no notice of him. He passed steadily upthe centre of the church, and sat down beside the Widow Stuart, whoseface expressed anxiety and surprise the moment she observed who wasseated there. The countenance of Henry, who sat on the other side ofhis mother, flushed, and he turned with an angry glance towards thecaptain of the _Foam_; but the look was thrown away, for Gascoyne hadplaced his arms on the back of the seat in front of him, and rested hishead on them; in which position he continued to remain without motionwhile the service was going on.
Mr Mason began with a short earnest prayer in English; then he read outa hymn in the native tongue, which was sung in good tune, and with greatenergy, by the whole congregation. This was followed by a chapter inthe New Testament, and another prayer; but all the service, with theexception of the first prayer, was conducted in the native language.The text was then read out:--"Though thy sins be as scarlet, they shallbe white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be aswool."
Frederick Mason possessed the power of chaining the attention of anaudience, and a deep breathless silence prevailed, as he laboured, withintense fervour, to convince his hearers of the love of God, and thewillingness and ability of Jesus Christ to save even the chief ofsinners. During one part of the service, a deep low groan startled thecongregation; but no one could tell who had uttered it. As it was notrepeated, it was soon forgotten by most of the people.
While the pastor was thus engaged, a pistol-shot was heard, andimmediately after, a loud fierce yell burst from the forest, causing theears of those who heard it to tingle, and their hearts for a moment toquail. In less than ten minutes, the church was empty, and the males ofthe congregation were engaged in a desperate hand-to-hand conflict withthe savages; who, having availed themselves of the one unguarded pass,had quietly eluded the vigilance of the scouts, and assembled in forceon the outskirts of the settlement.
Fortunately for the worshippers that morning, the anxiety of MasterCorrie for the welfare of his fair Alice induced him to slip out of thechurch just after the sermon began. Hastening to the pastor's house, hefound the child sound asleep on a sofa, and a savage standing over herwith a spear in his hand. The boy had approached so stealthily, thatthe savage did not hear him. Remembering that he had left his pistol onthe kitchen table, he darted round to the back door of the house, andsecured it just as Alice awoke with a scream of surprise and terror, onbeholding who was near her.
Next moment Corrie was at her side, and before the savage could seizethe child, he levelled the pistol at his head and fired. The aim wassufficiently true to cause the ball to graze the man's forehead, whilethe smoke and fire partially blinded him.
It was this shot that first alarmed the natives in church, and it wasthe yell uttered by the wounded man, as he fell stunned on the floor,that called forth the answering yell from the savage host, andprecipitated the attack.
It was sufficiently premature to give the people of the settlement timeto seize their arms; which, as has been said, they had placed so as tobe available at a moment's notice.
The fight that ensued was a desperate, and almost indiscriminate melee.The attacking party had been so sure of taking the people by surprise,that they formed no plan of attack; but simply arranged that, at a givensignal from their chief, a united rush should be made upon the church,and a general massacre ensue. As we have seen, Corrie's pistol drewforth the signal sooner than had been intended. In the rush thatimmediately ensued, a party dashed through the house, the boy wasoverturned, and a savage gave him a passing blow with a club that wouldhave scattered his brains on the floor had it taken full effect; but itwas hastily delivered; it glanced off his head, and spent its force onthe shoulder of the chief, who was thus unfortunate enough to be woundedby friends as well as foes.
On the first alarm, Gascoyne sprang up, and darted through the door. Hewas closely followed by Henry. Stuart, and the captain of the_Talisman_, with his handful of officers and men, who were all armed, asa matter of course.
"Sit where you are," cried Henry to his trembling mother, as he sprangafter Gascoyne; "the church is the safest place you'll find."
The widow fell on her knees and prayed to God, while the fight ragedwithout.
Among the first to leave the church was the pastor. The thought of hischild having been left in the house unprotected, filled him with anagony of fear. He sought no weapon of war, but darted unarmed straightinto the midst of the savage host
that stood between him and the objectof his affection. His rush was so impetuous, that he fairly overturnedseveral of his opponents by dashing against them. The numbers thatsurrounded him, however, soon arrested his progress; but he had pressedso close in amongst them, that they were actually too closely packed,for a few seconds, to be able to use their heavy clubs and long spearswith effect.
It was well for the poor missionary, at that moment, that he had learnedthe art of boxing when a boy! The knowledge so acquired had neverinduced him to engage in dishonourable and vulgar strife; but it hadtaught him how and where to deliver a straightforward blow with effect;and he now struck out with tremendous energy, knocking down an adversaryat every blow,--for the thought of Alice lent additional strength to hispowerful arm. Success in such warfare, however, was not to be expected.Still, Mr Mason's activity and vigour averted his own destruction fora few minutes; and these minutes were precious, for they afforded timefor Captain Montague and his officers to cut their way to the spot wherehe fought, just as a murderous club was about to descend on his headfrom behind. Montague's sword unstrung the arm that upheld it, and thenext instant the pastor was surrounded by friends.
Among their number was John Bumpus, who was one of the crew ofMontague's boat, and who now rushed upon the savages with a howlpeculiarly his own, felling one with a blow of his fist, and anotherwith a slash of his cutlass.
"You must retire," said Montague, hastily, to Frederick Mason, who stoodpanting and inactive for a few moments in order to recover breath. "Youare unarmed, sir; besides, your profession forbids you taking part insuch work as this. There are men of war enough here to keep thesefellows in play."
Montague spoke somewhat sharply, for he erroneously fancied that themissionary's love of fighting had led him into the fray.
"My profession does not forbid me to save my child," exclaimed thepastor, wildly.
He turned in the direction of his cottage, which was full in view; and,at that moment, smoke burst from the roof and windows. With a cry ofdespair, Mr Mason once more launched himself on the host of savages;but these were now so numerous that, instead of making head againstthem, the little knot of sailors who opposed them at that particularplace found it was as much as they could do to keep them at bay.
The issue of the conflict was still doubtful, when a large accession totheir numbers gave the savages additional power and courage. They madea sudden onset, and bore back the small band of white men. In the rushthe pastor was overthrown and rendered for a time insensible.
While this was going on in one part of the field, in another, stout OleThorwald, with several of the white settlers and the greater part of thenative force, was guarding the principal approach to the church againstimmensely superior numbers. And nobly did the descendant of the Norsesea-kings maintain the credit of his warlike ancestors that day. With asword that might have matched that of Goliath of Gath, he swept the waybefore him wherever he went, and more than once by a furious onsetturned the tide of war in favour of his party when it seemed about tooverwhelm them.
In a more distant part of the field, on the banks of a small stream,which was spanned by a bridge about fifty paces farther down, Gascoyneand Henry Stuart contended, almost alone; with about thirty savages.These two had rushed so impetuously forward at the first onset as tohave been separated from their friends, and, with four Christiannatives, had been surrounded. Henry was armed with a heavy claymore,the edge of which betokened that it had once seen much service in thewars of the youth's Scottish ancestors. Gascoyne, not anticipating thisattack, had returned to the settlement armed only with his knife. Hehad seized the first weapon that came to hand, which chanced to be anenormous iron shovel, and with this terrific implement the giant carriedall before him.
It was quite unintentionally that he and Henry had come together. Butthe nature and power of the two men being somewhat similar, they hadsingled out the same point of danger, and had made their attack with thesame overwhelming vehemence. The muscles of both seemed to be made ofiron, for, as increasing numbers pressed upon them, they appeared todeliver their terrible blows with increasing rapidity and vigour, andthe savages, despite their numbers, began to quail before them.
Just then Keona--who, although wounded, hovered about doing as muchmischief as he could with his left hand, (which, by the way, seemed tobe almost as efficient as his right,)--caught sight of this group ofcombatants on the banks of the stream. He, with a party, had succeededin forcing the bridge, and now, uttering a shout of wild delight at thesight of his two greatest enemies within his power--as he thought--herushed towards them and darted his spear with unerring aim and terribleviolence. The man's anger defeated his purpose, for the shout attractedthe attention of Gascoyne, who saw the spear coming straight towardsHenry's breast. He interposed the shovel instantly, and the spear fellharmless to the ground. At the same time, with a back-handed sweep hebrained a gigantic savage who at the moment was engaging Henry'sundivided attention. Bounding forward with a burst of anger, Gascoynesought to close with Keona. He succeeded but too well, however, for hecould not check himself sufficiently to deliver an effective blow, butwent crashing against his enemy, and the two fell to the groundtogether.
In an instant a rush was made on the fallen man; but Henry leapedforward, and sweeping down two opponents with one cut of his claymore,afforded his companion time to leap up.
"Come, we are quits," said Henry, with a grim smile, as the two dartedagain on the foe.
At that moment Ole Thorwald, having scattered the party he firstengaged, came tearing down towards the bridge, whirling the great swordround his head, and shouting "victory" in the voice of a Stentor.
"Hah! here is more work," he cried, as his eye fell on Gascoyne'sfigure. "Thorwald to the rescue! hurrah!"
In another moment the savages were flying pellmell across the bridgewith Gascoyne and Henry close on their heels, and the stout merchantpanting after them, with his victorious band, as fast as his less agilelimbs could carry him.
It was at this moment that Gascoyne and Henry noticed the attack made onthe small party of sailors, and observed the fall of Mr Mason.
"Thorwald to the rescue!" shouted Gascoyne, in a voice that rolled deepand loud over the whole field like the roar of a lion.
"Ay, ay, my noisy stranger; it's easy for your tough limbs to carry youup the hill," gasped Ole, "but the weight of ten or fifteen years willchange your step. Hurrah!"
The cry of the bold Norseman, coupled with that of Gascoyne, had thedouble effect of checking the onset of the enemy, and of collectingtheir own scattered forces around them. The battle was now drawing to apoint. Men who were skirmishing in various places left off and hastenedto the spot on which the closing scene was now evidently to be enacted;and for a few minutes the contending parties paused, as if by mutualconsent, to breathe and scan each other before making the final attack.
It must not be supposed that, during the light which we have described,the crew of the _Talisman_ were idle. At the first sign of disturbanceon shore, the boats were lowered, and a well-armed force rowed for thelanding-place as swiftly as the strong and willing arms of the men couldpull. But the distance between the vessel and the shore wasconsiderable, and the events we have recounted were quickly enacted, sothat before the boats had proceeded half the distance the fight wasnearly over, and the settlement seemed about to be overwhelmed.
These facts were not lost upon the first lieutenant of the _Talisman_,Mr Mulroy, who, with telescope in hand, watched the progress of thefight with great anxiety. He saw that it was impossible for the boatsto reach the shore in time to render efficient aid. He also observedthat a fresh band of savages were hastening to reinforce their comrades,and that the united band would be so overpoweringly strong as to renderthe chances of a successful resistance on the part of the settlers verydoubtful indeed almost hopeless.
In these circumstances he adopted a course which was as bold as it wasdangerous. Observing that the savages mustered fo
r the final onset in adense mass on an eminence which just raised their heads a little abovethose of the party they were about to attack, he at once loaded three ofthe largest guns with round shot and pointed them at the mass of humanbeings with the utmost possible care. There was the greatest danger ofhitting friends instead of foes, but Mr Mulroy thought it his duty toincur the responsibility of running the risk.
Montague, to whom the command of the united band of settlers had beengiven by general consent, had thrown them rapidly into some sort oforder, and was about to give the word to charge, when the savage hostsuddenly began to pour down the hill with frantic yells.
Mulroy did not hear the shouts, but he perceived the movement.Suddenly, as if a thunderstorm had burst over the island, the echoes ofthe hills were startled by the roar of heavy artillery, and, one afteranother, the three guns hurled their deadly contents into the centre ofthe rushing mass, through which three broad lanes were cut in quicksuccession.
The horrible noise and the dreadful slaughter in their ranks, seemed torender the affrighted creatures incapable of action, for they came to adead halt.
"_Well_ done, Mulroy," shouted Montague, "forward, boys--charge!"
A true British cheer burst from the tars and white settlers, whichserved farther to strike terror into the hearts of the enemy. Inanother moment they rushed up the hill, led on by Montague, Gascoyne,Henry, and Thorwald. But the savages did not await the shock. Seizedwith a complete panic, they turned and fled in utter confusion.
Just as this occurred, Mr Mason began to recover consciousness.Recollecting suddenly what had occurred, he started up and followed hisfriends, who were now in hot pursuit of the foe in the direction of hisown cottage. Quickly though they ran, the anxious father overtook andpassed them, but he soon perceived that his dwelling was wrapt inflames, from end to end.
Darting through the smoke and fire to his daughter's room he shouted hername, but no voice replied. He sprang to the bed--it was empty. With acry of despair, and blinded by smoke, he dashed about the room, graspingwildly at objects in the hope that he might find his child. As he didso he stumbled over a prostrate form, which he instantly seized, raisedin his arms, and bore out of the blazing house, round which a number ofthe people were now assembled.
The form he had thus plucked from destruction was that of the poor boy,who would willingly have given his life to rescue Alice, and who stilllay in the state of insensibility into which he had been thrown by theblow from the savage's heavy club.
The missionary dropped his burden, turned wildly round, and was about toplunge once again into the heart of the blazing ruin, when he was seizedin the strong arms of Henry Stuart, who, with the assistance of OleThorwald, forcibly prevented him from doing that which would haveresulted in almost certain death.
The pastor's head sunk on his breast; the excitement of action and hopeno longer sustained him; with a deep groan he fell to the earthinsensible.
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