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 sand 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.