The Coral Island - Robert Michael Ballantyne (little readers txt) 📗

tangled underwood, we fled from the fatal spot.

 

During the remainder of that day I felt as if I were in a horrible

dream. I scarce knew what was said to me, and was more than once

blamed by the men for idling my time. At last the hour to return

aboard came. We marched down to the beach, and I felt relief for

the first time when my feet rested on the schooner’s deck.

 

In the course of the evening I overheard part of a conversation

between the captain and the first mate, which startled me not a

little. They were down in the cabin, and conversed in an under-tone, but the sky-light being off, I overheard every word that was

said.

 

“I don’t half like it,” said the mate. “It seems to me that we’ll

only have hard fightin’ and no pay.”

 

“No pay!” repeated the captain, in a voice of suppressed anger.

“Do you call a good cargo all for nothing no pay?”

 

“Very true,” returned the mate; “but we’ve got the cargo aboard.

Why not cut your cable and take French leave o’ them? What’s the

use o’ tryin’ to lick the blackguards when it’ll do us no manner o’

good?”

 

“Mate,” said the captain, in a low voice, “you talk like a fresh-water sailor. I can only attribute this shyness to some strange

delusion; for surely” (his voice assumed a slightly sneering tone

as he said this) “surely I am not to suppose that YOU have become

soft-hearted! Besides, you are wrong in regard to the cargo being

aboard; there’s a good quarter of it lying in the woods, and that

blackguard chief knows it and won’t let me take it off. He defied

us to do our worst, yesterday.”

 

“Defied us! did he?’ cried the mate, with a bitter laugh. “Poor

contemptible thing!”

 

“And yet he seems not so contemptible but that you are afraid to

attack him.”

 

“Who said I was afraid?” growled the mate, sulkily. “I’m as ready

as any man in the ship. But, captain, what is it that you intend

to do?”

 

“I intend to muffle the sweeps and row the schooner up to the head

of the creek there, from which point we can command the pile of

sandal-wood with our gun. Then I shall land with all the men

except two, who shall take care of the schooner and be ready with

the boat to take us off. We can creep through the woods to the

head of the village, where these cannibals are always dancing round

their suppers of human flesh, and if the carbines of the men are

loaded with a heavy charge of buck-shot, we can drop forty or fifty

at the first volley. After that the thing will be easy enough.

The savages will take to the mountains in a body, and we shall take

what we require, up anchor, and away.”

 

To this plan the mate at length agreed. As he left the cabin I

heard the captain say, -

 

“Give the men an extra glass of grog, and don’t forget the buck-shot.”

 

The reader may conceive the horror with which I heard this

murderous conversation. I immediately repeated it to Bill, who

seemed much perplexed about it. At length he said, -

 

“I’ll tell you what I’ll do, Ralph: I’ll swim ashore after dark

and fix a musket to a tree not far from the place where we’ll have

to land, and I’ll tie a long string to the trigger, so that when

our fellows cross it they’ll let it off, and so alarm the village

in time to prevent an attack, but not in time to prevent us gettin’

back to the boat; so, master captain,” added Bill with a smile that

for the first time seemed to me to be mingled with good-natured

cheerfulness, “you’ll be baulked at least for once in your life by

Bloody Bill.”

 

After it grew dark, Bill put this resolve in practice. He slipped

over the side with a musket in his left hand, while with his right

he swam ashore and entered the woods. He soon returned, having

accomplished his purpose, and got on board without being seen, - I

being the only one on deck.

 

When the hour of midnight approached the men were mustered on deck,

the cable was cut and the muffled sweeps got out. These sweeps

were immensely large oars, each requiring a couple of men to work

it. In a few minutes we entered the mouth of the creek, which was

indeed the mouth of a small river, and took about half an hour to

ascend it, although the spot where we intended to land was not more

than six hundred yards from the mouth, because there was a slight

current against us, and the mangroves which narrowed the creek,

impeded the rowers in some places. Having reached the spot, which

was so darkened by overhanging trees that we could see with

difficulty, a small kedge anchor attached to a thin line was let

softly down over the stern.

 

“Now, lads,” whispered the captain, as he walked along the line of

men, who were all armed to the teeth, “don’t be in a hurry, aim

low, and don’t waste your first shots.”

 

He then pointed to the boat, into which the men crowded in silence.

There was no room to row, but oars were not needed, as a slight

push against the side of the schooner sent the boat gliding to the

shore.

 

“There’s no need of leaving two in the boat,” whispered the mate,

as the men stepped out; “we shall want all our hands. Let Ralph

stay.”

 

The captain assented, and ordered me to stand in readiness with the

boat-hook, to shove ashore at a moment’s notice if they should

return, or to shove off if any of the savages should happen to

approach. He then threw his carbine into the hollow of his arm and

glided through the bushes followed by his men. With a throbbing

head I awaited the result of our plan. I knew the exact locality

where the musket was placed, for Bill had described it to me, and I

kept my straining eyes fixed upon the spot. But no sound came, and

I began to fear that either they had gone in another direction or

that Bill had not fixed the string properly. Suddenly I heard a

faint click, and observed one or two bright sparks among the

bushes. My heart immediately sank within me, for I knew at once

that the trigger had indeed been pulled but that the priming had

not caught. The plan, therefore, had utterly failed. A feeling of

dread now began to creep over me as I stood in the boat, in that

dark, silent spot, awaiting the issue of this murderous expedition.

I shuddered as I glanced at the water that glided past like a dark

reptile. I looked back at the schooner, but her hull was just

barely visible, while her tapering masts were lost among the trees

which overshadowed her. Her lower sails were set, but so thick was

the gloom that they were quite invisible.

 

Suddenly I heard a shot. In a moment a thousand voices raised a

yell in the village; again the cry rose on the night air, and was

followed by broken shouts as of scattered parties of men bounding

into the woods. Then I heard another shout loud and close at hand.

It was the voice of the captain cursing the man who had fired the

premature shot. Then came the order, “Forward,” followed by the

wild hurrah of our men, as they charged the savages. Shots now

rang in quick succession, and at last a loud volley startled the

echoes of the woods. It was followed by a multitude of wild

shrieks, which were immediately drowned in another “hurrah” from

the men; the distance of the sound proving that they were driving

their enemies before them towards the sea.

 

While I was listening intently to these sounds, which were now

mingled in confusion, I was startled by the rustling of the leaves

not far from me. At first I thought it was a party of savages who

had observed the schooner, but I was speedily undeceived by

observing a body of natives - apparently several hundreds, as far

as I could guess in the uncertain light - bounding through the

woods towards the scene of battle. I saw at once that this was a

party who had out-flanked our men, and would speedily attack them

in the rear. And so it turned out, for, in a short time, the

shouts increased tenfold, and among them I thought I heard a

death-cry uttered by voices familiar to my ear.

 

At length the tumult of battle ceased, and, from the cries of

exultation that now arose from the savages, I felt assured that our

men had been conquered. I was immediately thrown into dreadful

consternation. What was I now to do? To be taken by the savages

was too horrible to be thought of; to flee to the mountains was

hopeless, as I should soon be discovered; and to take the schooner

out of the creek without assistance was impossible. I resolved,

however, to make the attempt, as being my only hope, and was on the

point of pushing off when my hand was stayed and my blood chilled

by an appalling shriek in which I recognised the voice of one of

the crew. It was succeeded by a shout from the savages. Then came

another, and another shriek of agony, making my ears to tingle, as

I felt convinced they were murdering the pirate crew in cold blood.

With a bursting heart and my brain whirling as if on fire, I seized

the boat-hook to push from shore when a man sprang from the bushes.

 

“Stop! Ralph, stop! - there now, push off,” he cried, and bounded

into the boat so violently as nearly to upset her. It was Bill’s

voice! In another moment we were on board, - the boat made fast,

the line of the anchor cut, and the sweeps run out. At the first

stroke of Bill’s giant arm the schooner was nearly pulled ashore,

for in his haste he forgot that I could scarcely move the unwieldy

oar. Springing to the stern he lashed the rudder in such a

position as that, while it aided me, it acted against him, and so

rendered the force of our strokes nearly equal. The schooner now

began to glide quickly down the creek, but before we reached its

mouth, a yell from a thousand voices on the bank told that we were

discovered. Instantly a number of the savages plunged into the

water and swam towards us; but we were making so much way that they

could not overtake us. One, however, an immensely powerful man,

succeeded in laying hold of the cut rope that hung from the stern,

and clambered quickly upon deck. Bill caught sight of him the

instant his head appeared above the taffrail. But he did not cease

to row, and did not appear even to notice the savage until he was

within a yard of him; then, dropping the sweep, he struck him a

blow on the forehead with his clenched fist that felled him to the

deck. Lifting him up he hurled him overboard and resumed the oar.

But now a greater danger awaited us, for the savages had outrun us

on the bank and were about to plunge into the water ahead of the

schooner. If they succeeded in doing so our fate was sealed. For

one moment Bill stood irresolute. Then, drawing a pistol from his

belt, he sprang to the brass gun, held the pan