CHAPTER XXIX
MUTINY
Drew was the first to rally from the shock of this discovery.
"It is a terrible situation, God knows," he said. "And I know, too, Captain, how you must feel the loss of the schooner—if it is lost. But there may be a chance left of releasing her. The reef looks solid from here, but when you get close to it there may be a crevice through which she can be warped.
"She don't draw much water in ballast," comforted Tyke, although in his heart he had little hope. "An' you've got some giant powder on board. Perhaps we can blast a passage."
The captain straightened up and took a grip on himself.
"We won't give up without a fight, anyway," he said; and Ruth rejoiced to hear the old militant ring in his voice. "The first thing to do is to get on board the ship. Come along down to the beach."
The others hurried after him as fast as they could, but, owing to the number of trees that had been thrown down, their progress was exasperatingly slow. But even in the turmoil of his emotion, Drew blessed the chance that made it possible for him to hold Ruth's arm, and in some especially difficult places to lift her over obstacles.
They reached the beach and the captain hailed the ship. Again and again he sent his voice booming over the water, and the others supplemented his efforts by waving their arms. It was impossible that they should not have been heard or seen; but the Bertha Hamilton might have been a phantom vessel for all the response that was evoked.
The captain fumed and stormed with impatience.
"What's the matter with those swabs?" he growled.
"Ah! now they're lowering a boat," cried Drew.
"They've taken their time about it," growled the captain.
The boat put out from the side and headed for the beach. When half-way there, the rowers overtook the captain's boat and secured it. Then, instead of resuming their journey, they turned deliberately about and rowed back. The boats were both hoisted to the davits and quietness again reigned on the schooner.
The stupefied spectators on the beach felt as though they had taken leave of their senses.
"Well, of all the——" raged Captain Hamilton, when he was interrupted by the sound of a shot fired on the schooner. Two others followed in quick succession. Then came a roar of voices. A moment later a man leaped from the mizzen shrouds over the rail. He was shot in midair, and those ashore heard his shriek as he threw up his arms and disappeared in the still heaving waters of the lagoon.
"Mutiny!" roared Captain Hamilton.
"Yes," echoed Tyke; "mutiny!"
Horror was stamped on every face. One blow had been succeeded by another still more crushing. It was now not only a question of the loss of the schooner. Their very lives might be threatened.
"That scoundrel, Ditty!" gasped the captain.
"It's too bad we pulled Allen off him the other day," ejaculated Tyke savagely. "We ought to have let him finish the job."
"Thank God we've got the weapons anyway!" exclaimed Captain Hamilton.
"Don't think that he hasn't got some too," warned Tyke. "You heard those shots. No doubt the rascal's got all the guns and ammunition he wants. You can gamble on it that he isn't figuring on fighting us with his bare hands."
The captain turned to Rogers and the boat's crew.
"What do you know about this, Mr. Rogers?" he said quietly. "Can we count on you?"
"That you can, Captain," replied Rogers heartily. "I only know what I've told you before, sir."
"And how about you, my lads?" Captain Hamilton continued, addressing the boat's crew. "Are you going to stand with your captain?"
There was a chorus of eager assent. Not one of them flinched or wavered, and indignation was hot in their eyes.
"Good!" cried the captain approvingly. "I knew you'd sailed with me too long to desert me when it came to a pinch."
"That makes ten of us altogether," observed Tyke Grimshaw.
"Eleven," put in Ruth. "Don't forget me."
"Eleven," repeated the master of the Bertha Hamilton, looking at her fondly. "You're a true sailor's daughter, Ruth. I'm proud of you, my dear."
"Eleven," said Drew. "That leaves twenty-five on the ship, including Ditty."
"Twenty-four," put in Tyke. "There's one less than there was a few minutes ago."
"Yes," agreed the captain sadly. "And I've no doubt the poor fellow was killed because he wouldn't join the rest of the gang. Twenty-four, then. That's pretty big odds against eleven."
"Beggin' your pardon, sir," said Barker, who was the oldest man of the crew, "but there's some of our mates over there that wouldn't never fight on the side of that Bug-eye—meanin' no disrespect to the mate, sir. Whitlock wouldn't for one, nor Gunther, nor Trent. I'd lay to that, sir."
"No, sir," put in Thompson; "an' Ashley wouldn't neither. No more would Sanders."
"I believe you, my lads," replied the captain. "They've sailed with us before. But even if they don't fight against us, they can't fight with us as things stand now. The very least that Ditty will do with them is to hold them prisoners until he's put the job through."
"But he isn't going to put it through," cried Drew, his eyes kindling.
"Not by a jug full!" declared Tyke. "But we'll know we've been in a fight, I s'pose, before we can prove that to him. He's put his head in the noose now, an' he'll be desperate."
"I only hope I get a chance at him before the hangman does," muttered Drew.
"There's not much to be done until those fellows come over here," said the captain reflectively. "We've no way of getting out there to the schooner. This thing will have to be fought out on land."
"Do you suppose they'll attack us right away, or try to starve us out?" Drew asked. "They've got the advantage in having provisions."
"No chance of starving us," replied Captain Hamilton. "There's plenty of fruit here, and then there are birds and small game. I saw an agouti run by a little while ago."
"Oh! Why, that's a rat, Daddy! Or is it a sort of 'possum?" cried Ruth, with a shudder. "And you men were hinting the other day that poor Wah Lee might serve us up some dainty dish like that!" she added with a chuckle.
"By George!" Tyke suddenly shouted. "There's cookee an' the steward! We forgot them in our calculations. How about 'em, Cap'n Rufe?"
"Oh, that's so!" cried Ruth. "That little Jap boy never would turn against us, surely!"
"Nor Wah Lee," said Captain Hamilton reflectively.
"Neither of 'em would be much good," remarked Tyke. "You know how them critters are—both Chinks and Japs. Cold-blooded as fish. They'll keep on cooking for the mutineers an' serving 'em. It's none of their pidgin whether that rascal, Ditty, bosses 'em or you are at the helm, Cap'n Rufe."
"Well, I expect you're right," agreed Captain Hamilton. "They're poor fish to fry. We can't count on them to supply us with grub, that's sure," and he laughed shortly.
"An' look here!" exclaimed Tyke, coming back to their former discussion. "How about water? We might git along on this sulphur water for a little while, but we couldn't stand it long."
"That's a little more serious," admitted the captain. "But we can get milk from the cocoanuts. There's plenty of them. And there's the chance of rain, too.
"But I don't think it will come to a siege," he continued, aside to Tyke. "Ditty will figure that he's got to have quick action. He knows that a vessel of some kind may come along any time, and then his cake will be dough. Besides, that bunch of rough-necks will be impatient for the loot that I've no doubt he's promised them."
"Where are you going to wait for him?" asked Tyke.
"Up at the whale's hump," replied the captain. "We can build a sort of fortification there that will help make up for our lack of numbers. They'll have to come out of the woods into the open up there, too. We might wait here on the beach, but they could keep out of gunshot, and we wouldn't get a decision. They can't land too quick to suit me."
Acting on this decision, the party started back at once, dropping Rogers by the way at the ledge that overlooked the sea, so that he could bring to them a report of any action taken by the mutineers.
Ruth's presence at his side was very dear to Drew as they toiled along, but he was deeply apprehensive for her safety. The men of the party had only death to fear if the worst came to the worst, but his heart turned to ice as he thought of Ruth left without protection in the hands of the mate and his gang.
She seemed to realize his thoughts, for she looked up at him bravely.
"I wish I had the carpet of Solomon here," he said.
"Why?" she smiled.
"I'd put you on it and have you whisked off to New York in a flash."
"Suppose I refused to go?"
"You wouldn't."
"I would! Why should I go to New York? All whom I love are here."
"Here?" he breathed eagerly.
"Surely. I love my father dearly."
"Oh!" he said disappointedly.
"You don't seem to approve of filial devotion," she observed, darting a mischievous look at him from under her long lashes.
"It's a beautiful thing," he answered promptly. "But there's another kind that——"
"We'd better hurry," the girl broke in hastily. "We're letting them get too far ahead of us."
They hastened on, and the words that were on Drew's lips remained unspoken.
After all, he thought to himself as the old bitter memory, forgotten in the excitement, came back to him, it was better so. They must not be spoken. They never could be spoken while he was under the awful cloud of suspicion. The love that had grown until it absorbed all his life must be ruthlessly crushed under foot.
The party emerged upon the slope of the whale's hump. Nothing had disturbed the cairn they had built over the treasure chest, nor were the rifles and tools displaced. Captain Hamilton's decision to make the stand here was admittedly a wise one. Here was enough lava, rubbish to build a dozen forts.
"Jest the spot," Tyke said vigorously, waving his hand in the direction of the heap of lava blocks that hid the pirate's chest. "What do you say, Cap'n Rufe? Shall we make that pile o' rocks the corner of our breastworks?"
"Good idea, Tyke," agreed the captain. "But pass guns around first, boys. All of you can handle a rifle, I suppose?"
"Aye aye, sir," said Barker, "you'd better believe we kin."
"If it comes to bullets," said Captain Hamilton, "those swabs will be so near to us we can scarcely miss 'em. That is, if they come out of the jungle.
"Suppose they circle around and come at us from above?" Drew suggested.
"We'll build a circular fort, by gosh!" cried Tyke. "An' build the back higher'n the front. How about it, Cap'n Rufe? Then if them swabs climb the hill to git the better of us, they can't shoot over."
"You're right, Tyke," agreed the master of the Bertha Hamilton.
"I don't believe," said Drew, "that Ditty and the men have many firearms. Nothing like these high-powered rifles, that's sure."
"That's so, Drew, I'm sure," said the captain promptly. "Now, boys, get to work," he added. "Roll 'em down! Here, Barker, you're chantey-man. Set 'em the pace."
Weirdly, echoing back from the wall of the jungle and hollowly from the hillside, the improvised chantey was raised by Barker, and the chorus line taken up by the other seamen as though they were jerking aloft the schooner's topsails.
"Oh, Bug-eye's dead an' gone below,
Oh, we says so, an' we hopes so;
Oh, Bug-eye's dead an' he'll go below
Oh, poor—ol'—man!
"He's deader'n the bolt on the fo'c'sle door,
Oh, we says so, an' we hopes so;
Oh, he'll never knock us flat no more,
Oh, poor—ol'—man!"
Under the impetus of this dirge with its innumerable verses the men rolled the boulders down. The fortification began to take form and give promise of shelter in time of need.
And there was no telling how soon that time might come!
CHAPTER XXX
THE FLAG OF TRUCE
The seamen rolled the larger boulders to the line Tyke indicated. Captain Hamilton himself and Drew chocked the interstices between the larger blocks with broken lava. A chance bullet might slip through into the fort, but under a rain of lead those within the fortification would be fairly well protected.
In two hours, and not long before sunset, the work was finished. Facing the jungle, from which the expected attack would come, if at all, the wall was breast high; in the rear, it rose higher so that no man unless he stood fairly in the lip of the crater above, could shoot over the barrier.
"And take it from me," said Tyke Grimshaw, "those bums ain't going to run their legs off to reach the top of this volcano. They're scared to death of it."
"And our own boys aren't much better," muttered Captain Hamilton. "See 'em looking over their shoulders now and again? They're expecting a shoot-off any minute."
"Well," the older man agreed, "that may be so. But it strikes me that the volcano and the earthquakes have been mighty helpful to us. Now, if I was superstitious——"
"How about locking my schooner in that blasted lagoon?" growled the master of the Bertha Hamilton. "This island is hoodooed, I've half a mind to believe."
Next the rifles and revolvers were carefully cleaned and loaded, and the ammunition distributed.
"How are we off for cartridges?" Drew asked.
"None too well," answered the captain. "If these fellows were sure shots, there'd probably be all we'd need. But they'll waste a lot. I've got several hundred in a box under my berth—and clips for the automatics, too. I certainly wish I'd brought 'em along."
"S'pose Ditty's gobbled 'em?" inquired Grimshaw.
"I don't think he'd find them. But they're no good to us now," groaned the captain.
At this moment Rogers came hurrying up.
"They're putting off from the ship," he reported breathlessly.
"How many of them?" asked the captain.
"Ten in the longboat and seven in the other," was the answer.
"Seventeen in all," mused the captain. "I wonder where the rest are."
"Probably dead or prisoners," put in Tyke. "The men who wouldn't join him he's likely killed or triced up an' left 'em under guard of one or two of the gang."
"That's probably so," agreed the master of the Bertha Hamilton. "Well, that reduces the odds somewhat; but they're heavy enough just the same. We'll have action now 'most any time."
They had been so excited and absorbed in their preparations that they had not thought of food. Now the captain insisted upon their eating what Wah Lee had put up for them that morning. But he portioned out water from the cask very sparingly.
Another hour passed, and still they heard no tread of approaching feet. It would soon be dark. But suddenly they were startled when a voice hailed them. It came from the direction of a big ceiba tree a hundred yards down the forest path.
"Ahoy, there!"
"Ahoy, yourself!" shouted back the captain.
A stick was thrust from behind the tree. A white cloth was tied to the end of it.
"This is Ditty talkin'," came the voice.
"I know it is, you scoundrel," roared the captain.
"No hard words, Cap'n," came the answer. "It'll only be the worse for you. I want to have a confab with you."
"Come along then and say your say," replied Captain Hamilton.
"You won't shoot?"
"Not you," promised the captain. "I hope to see you hung later on."
"No tricks, now," said Ditty cautiously
"I said I wouldn't and that's enough," responded the captain. "You can take it or leave it."
The mate emerged fully from behind the tree and came into the open space. At fifty paces from the fortress he halted.
"There's guns coverin' you from behind them trees, if anything happens to me," he said in further warning.
"I don't wonder you think that every man's a liar, Ditty," the captain replied bitterly. "You judge them out of your own black heart. Now, what do you want? Why have you seized my ship? Why have you killed one of my men?"
"I hain't seized your ship," answered Ditty sullenly. "You left me in charge of it. An' I didn't kill any of your men. Sanders got drunk an' fell overboard."
"Don't lie to me, you rascal," returned the captain. "We heard the shooting and saw the man shot as he leaped overboard. You'll hang for that yet, if I don't kill you first. You're a bloody mutineer and you know it. Now stow your lies and get to the point. What do you want?"
"We want them doubloons!" fairly shouted Ditty, stung by the captain's contempt, "an' we're goin' to have 'em."
"Doubloons? What do you mean?" asked the captain.
"The treasure you come here to dig for," answered Ditty. "You can't fool me. I've been on to your little game ever since before the schooner left New York. I got sharp ears, I have," pursued the mate, his one eye gleaming balefully as he looked at the heads above the line of the breastwork. "I know you found a map an' some sort of a paper what explained about that old pirate treasure. It was in a sailorman's chest in Tyke Grimshaw's office. Like enough Tyke stole it from the poor feller. An' I heard you tellin' Miss Ruth about it that night at dinner," he added, with a leering glance at the pale-faced girl.
"So that's why you shipped me such a lot of scum and riffraff, was it, you villain?" Captain Hamilton asked.
"You can think as you like about that," answered Ditty. "But this here kind of chinning won't git us anywhere. I know all about the map and that paper, an' I know that you come here lookin' for that loot. An' I bet you've found it a'ready. Now, to put it short an' sweet, me an' my mates want it."
"Suppose you got it?" parleyed the master of the Bertha Hamilton. "It wouldn't do you any good. The schooner is landlocked and can't get away."
"Even so it'll do us as much good as it will you," countered Ditty. "We've got the longboat an' we can easily make one of the islands near by where we can find a ship to take us to the States."
"And suppose I have the treasure and refuse to give it to you?" pursued the captain.
"Then we'll take it!" threatened Ditty, his one eye glowing with malevolence. "We'll take it if we have to kill every last one of you to git it!
"Hey! Barker! Olsen! The rest of you bullies!" he added, raising his voice, "you know blamed well the after-guard won't do nothin' for you fellers but let you git shot. You better come with us.
"We're nearly two to one, anyway, an' you've got no chance," he added to Captain Hamilton.
"We haven't, eh?" exploded the captain, his pent-up rage finding vent. "Do your worst, you black-hearted hound! And if you're not behind that tree in one minute, may God have mercy on your soul!"
CHAPTER XXXI
A DARING VENTURE
With an expression of baffled rage convulsing his features, Ditty turned and made for shelter. Once safely there, he hurled back the wildest threats and imprecations. So vile they were that Ruth shuddered and put her hands to her ears.
"I said I'd kill you all!" the mate shouted. "I'll take that back. I'll kill all but one!"
The threat was easily understood. Captain Hamilton's face went white, and he glanced hastily at Ruth. But he only said:
"Keep down out of sight, men. They know where we are, but we don't know where they are. They may try to rush us, but I don't think they will at first. Aim carefully and shoot at anything that offers a fair target, but don't waste the ammunition."
He had hardly finished speaking before there came a volley, and the bullets pattered against the rocks. They came from several directions. Ditty had arranged his men in the form of a semicircle. They had ample cover, and the only chance for the besieged lay in the chance that one of the enemy should protrude his head or shoulder too far from behind his tree.
Many times in the next hour the fusilade was repeated. It was plain that the mutineers were armed only with pistols.
"Probably Ditty laid in a stock before he left New York," the captain muttered to Tyke. "Automatics, too."
"His ammunition won't last long if he keeps wasting it this way," replied Tyke. "An' an automatic ain't always a sure shot."
Just then a cry from Olsen showed that the mutineers' cartridges had not been wholly wasted. A bullet had caught the Swede in the shoulder. He dropped, groaning.
Ruth was by his side in an instant. She bound up his wound as best she could, and, putting a coat beneath his head, made him as comfortable as possible.
"One knocked out," muttered the captain. "I wonder who'll be the—— Ah! Good boy, Allen!" he cried delightedly.
One of the enemy had thrown up his hands and, with a yell, had crashed heavily to the ground. He lay there without motion.
"Leaned his head out a little too far," remarked Drew composedly. "That was the cockney, Bingo."
"An' a dirty rat," Tyke said grimly. "That evens up the score."
"Not exactly," replied Drew. "We'll have to pot two of them to every one they get, to keep the score straight. And they'll be more careful now about exposing themselves."
He was right; for in the short moments of daylight that remained they lessened no further the number of their foes. Nor did any bullet find its billet in the body of any of the besieged. But one ball knocked a splinter from a rock and drove it against the knuckles of Binney's right hand, making it difficult for him to use his rifle.
Now darkness fell, and the enemy seemed to have withdrawn.
"The real fight will come to-morrow," prophesied Captain Hamilton. "This was only a skirmish to feel us out."
"Do you think they'll try to do anything to-night?" asked Drew thoughtfully.
"I don't believe so," was the reply; "but we'll post sentinels, and if they come they won't take us by surprise."
"As a matter of fact," the captain went on, "I wish they would adopt rushing tactics. Then they'd be out in the open and we could get a good crack at them. As it is, we're concentrated and they're scattered, and their bullets have a better chance than ours of finding a mark. These sniping methods are all in their favor, if Ditty has sense enough to stick to them."
"They've gained already by this afternoon's work," pondered Tyke. "When they started in we were seventeen to 'leven. Now, as far as we know, they're sixteen to our nine, for neither Olsen nor Binney's what you might call able-bodied. The odds are getting bigger against us."
"All the ammunition we have spent has accounted for only one man," added the captain. "Their cover has served 'em well. And our ammunition is short. I figure out that we haven't much more than thirty cartridges apiece left for the rifles. That won't last us long."
"Why not dash out and charge them?" suggested Drew.
"We will when our cartridges get low," agreed the captain. "But I'm hoping they'll charge us first in the morning. We could drop a bunch of 'em before they closed in on us, and then we'd have a better chance in hand-to-hand fighting."
After dark the captain posted three men some distance within the forest, with the promise that they should be relieved at midnight and with strict injunctions to keep a vigilant watch and report to him at once should anything seem suspicious.
Rogers was delegated to make his way down to the beach, where it was supposed the mutineers would encamp for the night, to see if he could gain any information as to their plan of attack on the morrow.
To Ruth this whole situation was a most terrifying one; but nobody displayed more bravery than she.
She had attended to the two wounded men skilfully. She had been obliged to arrange a tourniquet on Olsen's shoulder, or the man would have bled to death; and she had done this as well as a more practised nurse. The wound was a clean one, the bullet having bored right through the shoulder.
Binney's wound was merely painful, and he could not use his rifle effectively. But he could handle an automatic with his left hand.
The departure of the mutineers and the coming of night released their minds and hearts from anxiety to a certain degree. Night fowls in the forest shouted their raucous notes back and forth, and there were some squealings and gruntings at the edge of the jungle that betrayed the presence of certain small animals that might add to their bill of fare could they but capture them.
"We'll forage for grub to-morrow," said Captain Hamilton. "It's too dark to-night to tell what you were catching, even if you went after those creatures. Ruth says she doesn't want agouti because they're too much like rats; but maybe there are creatures like polecats here—and they'd be a whole lot worse."
A daring idea came into Drew's mind, but he did not mention it to Tyke or the captain because he felt sure that they would not approve. He acknowledged to himself that it was a forlorn hope, but he knew, too, that forlorn hopes often won by their very audacity.
He knew that the moon rose late that night, and as darkness was essential to the execution of his plan, he rose shortly and said:
"Think I'll go out and do a little scouting on my own account."
The captain looked at him in some surprise.
"Well," he said slowly, "we can't get any too much information; but we're fearfully short of men, and you're the best shot we have. Better be careful."
"Yes, do be careful, Allen!" exclaimed Ruth. "For my sake," she added in a whisper.
"Do you care very much?" he responded, in the same tone.
"Care!" she repeated softly. It was only one word, but it was eloquent and her eyes were suspiciously moist.
He pressed her hand and she did not try to withdraw it.
"I'll be careful," he promised, releasing it at last. Another moment and he had surmounted the barrier and was swallowed up in the gloom of the forest.
From his repeated trips over the trail, Drew had a pretty good idea of the locality, and had it not been for the fallen trees that had been torn up by the cataclysm of the morning, he would have had little difficulty in gaining the beach. But again and again he had to make long detours, and as the darkness was intense he had to rely entirely on his sense of touch; so his progress was slow.
Nearly two hours elapsed before he caught sight of a light beyond the trees that he thought must come from the campfire of the mutineers. He crept forward with exceeding care, for at any moment he might stumble over some sentinel. But, with the lack of discipline that usually accompanies such lawless ventures and relying upon their preponderance in numbers, the mutineers had neglected such a precaution.
With the stealth of an Indian on a foray, Drew approached the beach until he was not more than a hundred yards from the fire. There he sheltered himself behind a massive tree trunk and surveyed the scene.
He saw Rogers nowhere about. The mutineers had made a great fire of driftwood, more for its cheerful effect than for any other reason, for the night was oppressively warm. At some distance from it the men were sitting or lying in sprawling attitudes. Some were sleeping, some singing, while one tall man, whom Drew recognized as Ditty, was engaged in earnest conversation with two others, probably his lieutenants.
Drew counted them twice to make sure there was no mistake. There were sixteen in all. Only one, then, had been accounted for that afternoon. And there were but nine able-bodied men in the fort, counting Binney as able-bodied.
Sixteen to nine! Nearly two to one! And men who would fight desperately because in joining this mutiny they knew that they stood in peril of the hangman's noose or the electric chair.
Drew's resolution hardened. The fire cast a wide zone of light on the beach and the surrounding water. But over the eastern end of the lagoon darkness hung heavily. Keeping in the shelter of the palms, he went northward, following the contour of the lagoon until he reached the point where vegetation ceased and the reef began.
Although this reef was volcanic (indeed the whole island had undoubtedly been thrown up from the floor of the sea by some subterranean convulsion in ages past), the coral insects had been at work adding to the strength of the lagoon's barriers. The recent quake that had lifted the reef had ground much of this coral-work to dust. Drew found himself wading ankle deep in it as he approached the water.
The little waves lapped at his feet. There was a shimmering glow on the surface of the lagoon, as there always is upon moving water. Outside, the surf sighed, retreated, advanced, and again sighed, in unchanging and ceaseless rotation.
Drew disrobed slowly. He could not see the schooner, but he knew about where she lay. Indeed, he could hear the water slapping against her sides and the creaking of her blocks and stays. She was not far off the shore.
And yet he hesitated before wading in. He was a good swimmer, and the water was warm; the actual getting to the schooner did not trouble his mind in the least. But, as he scanned the surface of the lagoon, there was a phosphorescent flash several fathoms out. Was it a leaping fish, or——
His eyes had become accustomed to the semi-darkness. Drifting in was some object—a small, three-cornered, sail-like thing. Another flash of phosphorescence, and the triangular fin disappeared. Drew shuddered as he stood naked at the water's edge. He could not fail to identify the creature. Something besides the Bertha Hamilton had been shut in the lagoon by the rising reef.
"And I venture to say that that shark is mighty hungry, too—unless he found poor Sanders," muttered the shivering Drew.
He then waded into the water.
CHAPTER XXXII
THE BATTLE IN THE FORECASTLE
Making as little disturbance as possible, Drew sank to his armpits in the pellucid waters, and then began to swim. He believed the shark had started briskly for some other point in the lagoon; but he knew the eyes of the creature were sharp.
All about him, as the young man moved through the water, there were millions of tiny organisms that would betray his presence, as they had the shark's, at the first ripple. These minute infusorians would glow with the pale gleam of phosphorescence if the water were ruffled. Therefore, he had to swim carefully and slowly, when each second his nerves cried out for rapid, panic-stricken action.
He came at last to the schooner's stern without mishap. He could see her tall hull and taller spars above him. There was no light in the after part of the vessel; nor was there even a riding light. The mutineers whom Ditty had left aboard had evidently thrown off all discipline.
Finding no line hanging from the rail aft, Drew swam around the schooner to her bows. Here was the anchor chain, and up this he clambered nimbly to the rail.
Cautiously he raised his head above the rail and looked about him. There was a light in the forecastle, but most of the deck was in deep shadow. Very slowly he pulled himself inboard and dropped down in the bows. Then, on hands and knees and avoiding any spot of light, he crept noiselessly toward the forecastle and looked in.
By the light of the lamp swinging in its gimbals, he could see five men seated on the floor with their hands tied behind them. At a little distance two other men were seated, both with revolvers thrust in their belts.
The nearest of the guards was talking at the moment, and Drew easily heard what was said.
"You're a bloomin' fool, I tell you, Trent," he was saying to one of the prisoners. "Ditty has got the old man dead to rights. The after-guard hain't got the ghost of a chance. You'd better pitch in an take your luck along with the rest of us."
"You're a lot of bloody murderers," growled the one addressed, "and you'll swing for this business yet."
"Not as much chance of our swingin' as there is of you gittin' what Sanders got," retorted the other. "He's 'bout eat up by the sharks by this time. An' when Ditty comes back with the loot; he ain't goin' to let you live to peach on 'im. No, siree, he ain't. Dead men tell no tales."
Drew waited no longer. He had no weapon with him, not even a knife. But he counted on the advantage of surprise. He gathered himself together, and, with the agility of a panther, leaped upon the shoulders of the man seated beneath him. They went to the deck with a crash. The fellow was stunned by the shock, and lay motionless; but Drew was on his feet in a second.
The other mutineer leaped up, but when he saw the white and dripping figure of the unexpected visitor he dropped the automatic and fell back against the mess table, shaking and with his hands before his eyes.
"It's a ghost!" yelled Trent, no less frightened than the others, but more voluble. "It's Sanders been an' boarded us!"
The prisoners, crowded together on the deck of the forecastle, glared at the apparition of the naked man in horror. After all, the mutineer had the most courage.
"Blast my eyes!" he suddenly shouted. "Sanders wasn't never so big as him; 'nless he's growed since he was sent to the sharks."
He sprang forward to peer into Drew's face. The latter's fist shot out and landed resoundingly on the fellow's jaw.
"Nor he don't hit like Sanders, by mighty!" yelled the fellow. "Nor like no ghost. It's that blasted Drew—I knows 'im now."
"And you're going to know more about me directly," said Drew, between his teeth, following the fellow up for a second blow.
But the mutineer had recovered himself, both in mind and body. He was a big, beefy chap, weighing fifty pounds heavier than Drew, despite the latter's bone and muscle. No man, no matter how well he can spar, can afford to give away fifty pounds in a rough and tumble fight and expect not to suffer for it.
The fellow put up a good defense, and Drew suddenly became aware that he himself was at a terrible disadvantage. He was a naked man against one clothed and booted. He could defend himself from the flail-like blows of his antagonist and could get in some of his own swift hooks and punches. But when he was at close quarters the fellow played a deadly trick on him.
As Drew stepped in to deliver a short-armed jolt to the mutineer's head, the latter took the punishment offered, but, with all his weight, stamped on Drew's unprotected foot.
The groan that this forced from the young man's lips brought a diabolical grin to the mutineer's face. Even the satisfaction of changing that grin to a bloody smear, as he did the very next moment by giving a fearful blow to the mouth, did not relieve Drew's pain.
He had to keep the fellow at arm's length, and that was not advantageous to his own style of fighting. He could make a better record in close-up work. But the mutineer wore heavy sea-boots, and Drew already felt himself crippled. His own footwork was spoiled. He limped as badly as had Tyke Grimshaw for a while.
There was not room for a fair field in the crowded forecastle, at best. The big sailor was very wary about stepping near the five prisoners, but he forced Drew, time and again, against the body of the prone and unconscious man on the deck. Three times his naked antagonist all but sprawled over this obstruction.
In fact, Drew was not getting much the best of it, although few of the mutineer's blows landed. This fighting at arm's length never yet brought a quick decision. And that was what Allen Drew was striving for. For all he knew, Ditty might take it into his head to come off to the schooner before bedtime. If he were caught in this plight, he would be utterly undone.
This thought harried the young man's very soul. All he had risked in swimming out to the schooner would go for nothing. Not only would his object in coming fail of consummation, but if Ditty caught him, the besieged party up on the side of the whale's hump would lose its best shot.
Thus convinced of the necessity for haste, Drew suddenly rushed in. He stifled a cry as the heavy boot crunched down on his foot once again. This was no time for fair fighting. He seized his antagonist by the collar of his shirt, jerked him forward, and at the same time planted a right upper-cut on the point of the jaw.
The fellow crashed to the deck—down and out without a murmur. Drew, panting and limping, leaving a trail of blood wherever he stepped, secured some lengths of spun yarn and tied both mutineers hand and foot before he gave any attention to the murmuring prisoners.
"Now, men," he said, turning to the five, "you know me. I'm Mr. Drew and I'm no ghost."
"You don't hit like no ghost," grinned Trent. "I'm mighty glad you come, Mr. Drew. It would have been all up with us when old Bug-eye come back if you hadn't."
"You're fine fellows and all right to stand up for your captain," replied Drew; "and you'll find that you've not only been on the right side, but on the winning side. However, we've got to hurry. Where's a knife?"
"You'll find one in that fellow's belt," said Whitlock, pointing to one of the mutineers.
Drew secured it and cut the ropes that bound the prisoners. They fell to rubbing their arms and legs to get the blood to circulating.
"As soon as you can move about, get the dinghy ready," directed Drew. "Stow in it all the provisions it will hold together with some casks of water. And you'd better bring Wah Lee and the Jap along. I've got to go to the captain's cabin, but I'll be back before you're ready. Smart, now, for we don't know what minute Ditty may take a notion to come aboard."
Drew hurried aft and into his own room where he quickly got into some clothing and bandaged his crushed foot. Then he pushed into the captain's stateroom. There was no light there, but he dropped on his hands and knees and felt under the berth.
His hand touched the sharp corner of a box. He dragged it out and hurried up the companionway where he could examine it by the light of a lantern. He recognized at once the label of a well-known ammunition company, and knew that these must be the cartridges of which the captain had spoken. That box perhaps spelled salvation for the treasure seekers.
With his heart throbbing with elation and tightly clutching the precious box, Drew hastened to the rail where the men were preparing to launch the boat. Wah Lee and Namco stood by, blinking with true Oriental stolidity. They betrayed neither eagerness nor reluctance, nor was there the slightest trace of curiosity. For them it was all in the day's work.
The seamen heaped in all the provisions and water that the boat would hold and still leave room for its occupants. Drew advised muffling the oars, and with barely a sound the craft moved toward the shore. Heavily laden at is was, the progress was slow. They kept cautiously out of the zone of light cast by the mutineers' campfire, which now, however, was dying out. Finally the craft grated on the sand.
Under Drew's whispered directions, the men shouldered the stores, and the party commenced the toilsome march inland to the little fort.
It was fully midnight when they were challenged by the sentinels at the edge of the wood.
"Ahoy, there!" called Drew, hailing the fort.
"Ahoy, yourself!" came back the answer. "Is that you, Allen?"
"Yes. And some friends with me."
"Friends?" There was surprise in the tone. "Who are they?"
"I'll let you see for yourself."
The besieged, whose sleep had been fitful, had all been aroused by the colloquy, and they crowded to the front of the barricade. The moon had now risen, and their faces could be clearly discerned. Ruth lovelier every time he saw her, Allen thought, stood beside her father.
"Why, it's Whitlock!" cried Captain Hamilton jubilantly. "And Gunther—and Trent—and Ashley—and Barnes!" he went on in ever-increasing wonderment and excitement, as he recognized the weather-beaten faces. "And blest if here isn't that old heathen, Wah Lee! And the Jap! Glory hallelujah!"
There was a moment of wild exclamations and handshakings.
"Bully lads!" cried the master of the Bertha Hamilton, with deep emotion. "So you broke away and came to help your captain, did you? Good lads."
"We didn't exactly break away, Cap'n," said Gunther. "Though God knows we wanted to bad enough. But it's Mr. Drew you want to thank for our bein' here. He done it all."
"I knowed it! I knowed it!" cried Tyke. "I felt it in my bones when I first saw 'em! Glory be!"
"He did it all?" inquired the captain. "What do you mean? Tell us, Allen."
"Oh, there isn't much to tell," replied Drew. "I was lucky enough to reach the schooner and I found the men there with their hands tied. I cut the ropes and brought them along."
"You reached the schooner!" the captain repeated. "How?"
"Did you git the boat from under the eyes of them fellers?" asked Tyke.
"No. I swam over."
"Swam!" ejaculated the captain.
Ruth gave a little shriek and put her hand to her heart.
"Oh!" she cried. "The sharks!"
"Haven't I always told you that boy was a wonder?" chuckled Tyke.
But here Whitlock touched his cap.
"Beggin' your pardon, Cap'n," he said apologetically, "but if Mr. Drew was as slow with his fists as he is with tellin' his story, meanin' no disrespec', me an' my mates wouldn't be here."
"Go ahead, Whitlock," said the captain. "It is like pulling teeth to get anything from Mr. Drew."
Whitlock told the story, which lost nothing in the telling.
There was a pause, tense with emotion, and all eyes were turned on Drew. Tyke's hand clapped him on the shoulder, but the old man did not trust himself to speak. Ruth's eyes were wet, but the tears could not obscure a look that made the young man's heart thump wildly.
"Allen," said the captain, taking his hand, "it was the pluckiest thing I ever heard of. If we get out of this place alive, we shall owe it all to you."
"You make too much of it," disclaimed Drew, red and confused. "But hadn't we better stow away these things the men have brought along? Here's the box of cartridges I found under your berth."
The captain fairly shouted.
"That puts the cap sheaf on!" he exulted. "Now Ditty and his gang are done for. They can't come too soon."