CHAPTER V.
THE ATTACK ON THE CALABAR.
When Young Jack returned to the large room he found twenty fine-looking, well-built Arabs awaiting his arrival.
Mole, Monday and Harry Girdwood were still seated together.
Pierre Leronge was standing in front of the Arabs, who were drawn up in two rows.
They had carved swords like scimetars and seven chambered revolvers.
“Salute!” cried Leronge.
The men did so.
“Do they know their drill?” asked Jack.
“Oui, Monsieur. They went to Suakim to fight for the English against the Mahdi and the Hadendowahs.”
Jack’s knowledge of Arabic was pretty good.
There was scarcely any language of which he did not have a smattering.
He took a bag of gold from his knapsack and gave each man three pieces.
“You shall have more, my men,” he said, “every day, if you fight well against the pirates. In one encounter you may defeat them. If so, you shall have, each of you, a hat full of tomauns.”
The Arabs clapped their hands.
That was in token of approval of his offer.
“The pirates of the Red Sea are close by,” continued Jack. “They are after me! Defeat them and you shall have plenty of Bacsheesh.”
Again the Arabians struck the palms of their hands together.
“You can camp in here, making the best shift you can,” said Jack, “though I don’t think you will have long to wait. It is my opinion the pirates mean to attack us to-night. I will lead you.”
“And I!” exclaimed Harry. “You will have two white men at your head.”
Mr. Mole stepped forward.
“Say three,” he exclaimed. “Am I an unconsidered quantity? Is not my record known? Are not my exploits told in the chronicles?”
“Take a back seat, sir!”
“What! do you dictate to me?”
“I want to put these men through their drill, for we can’t tell when we shall be attacked.”
“Very well, my dear boy; that is just like you; snub the old man; call him down.”
“Will you keep to yourself?”
“Say, I am a double distilled, a hundred and fifty over proof idiot.”
The professor sat down in a huff.
Jack, after this slight interruption, reviewed his men, Harry Girdwood standing by his side.
“Attention!” Jack exclaimed. “Number off by your right. Mark time!”
These orders were obeyed.
“Form fours! March! Halt! Stand at ease!” he continued.
“That will do, I think,” said Jack.
“Couldn’t beat it,” replied Harry. “They understand their drill and are disciplined.”
“Why not? They have been under English officers. Disperse! Seat yourselves where you like, but until you receive further orders do not leave this room. Order what you like to eat and drink. I will be responsible for all.”
The leader of the contingent agreed to be ready for action at a moment’s notice.
They were not afraid of death.
Each one would fight to the last gasp, like a Swiss or Hessian Mercenary.
“I say, sah,” exclaimed Monday. “Why not me take charge ob de army?”
“You can if you choose,” replied Jack.
“Me keep them in order, and lead them on to victory; that’s my idea.”
“You shall be colonel.”
“Me general.”
“Certainly,” continued Jack. “You are the commander-in-chief. Mind your men don’t bolt or get drunk. You can’t trust an Arab.”
“If one go wrong, me shoot him down.”
Monday spoke to the men, telling them he was to be the leader of the small brigade.
They acquiesced.
It mattered little to them who had the lead.
Coffee and biscuits with dates were supplied them, as well as tobacco and pipes, as they lounged on the divans all round the room.
Monday strapped a sword round his waist and marched up and down as proud as a peacock.
This kind of thing suited him down to the ground.
He liked to command.
His vanity was flattered and his dignity gratified.
Mole sulked like Achilles in his tent, at the seize of Troy, when everything did not go exactly his way.
“What do you think of the army?” asked Harry.
“They look fit,” replied Jack.
“For what?”
“To fight pirates.”
“I hope to goodness you are right.”
“They are fit to do anything and go anywhere.”
The night was now drawing in.
Stars came out, the moon rose, and a phosphorescent glow settled over the sea.
There were no lights on board the Catamaran, consequently the pirate ship could not be seen.
Had she moved on?
That was scarcely probable, but Jack did not know what to think.
There was little doubt that Hunston would induce the pirates to attack the Calabar.
It was to their interest to do so.
Having obtained one sum of money out of Young Jack, it was easy enough, they thought, to get some more.
If they played their own game, they gratified Hunston’s revenge too.
The Red Sea pirates had no mercy on any one, and honor was a word unknown to them.
If they had entertained any idea of fair dealing, they would not have set upon Jack after receiving his ransom.
With regard to money, they were cormorants.
The night passed without any disturbance or aggression on the part of the pirates.
This was a relief, but the danger still menaced them.
Clara was not at all well. She stayed in her room, Jack and Harry attending to her.
Monday was in immense form.
He was commander-in-chief of the small Arab army, and drill sergeant, too.
Mole was merely a spectator, but he kept by Monday’s side.
After breakfast the next day Monday said:
“What you want to come and hang onto my tail for?”
“I take you for a monkey,” replied Mole—“a chimpanzee or orang-outang.”
“If you insult me I tell my men to fire on you, sah.”
“So long as they hit the wooden joint I don’t care, but the solid flesh must be respected.”
“Sit down, Massa Mole, and hab a cup ob fine Mocha coffee. What you say, sah?”
“Coffee is good, if you put a stick in it. If I remember rightly, the Arabians first discovered the coffee bean—it——”
His further remarks were cut short by a shout from Jack, who had entered the long room.
“The Catamaran is rounding the corner of the bay,” he cried.
“Yes,” said Harry, who was close to him. “She is coming right enough.”
“The black flag is still flying.”
“It is a wonder that they have not embroidered a death’s head on it.”
“Oh, the Bedouins are not educated up to that yet.”
Mr. Mole became very warlike.
In a bellicose tone he began to sing the Marseillaise, which is a very inspiriting republican air.
“To arms, my citizens,” he shouted. “Death to tyrants, and all the rest of it.”
Monday pushed him back on a divan.
“None ob your larks,” he said.
“The enemy is at our gates,” replied Mole.
“We have not got any!”
“That is an omission. Order some immediately, regardless of expense.”
“Shut up!”
“What is money when danger threatens?”
“It comes in handy to buy grub and pay the bill of the butcher and baker.”
Mr. Mole sat down in a chair.
“You are bad and commonplace, Monday!” he exclaimed. “I will have nothing more to do with you!”
“Who asked you? It am a matter that rests entirely with yourself. If you do not like my company you need not keep it.”
“It is not of that distinguished character that I am acquainted with generally and accustomed to.”
“Hit you on the jaw, sah!” cried Monday, “if you keep on. You berry aggravatin’ and provokin’! Dis chile can’t stand too much on it!”
Further contention between these two was prevented by a shout from Harry.
“What is it?” asked Jack.
“The pirates have lowered two boats,” replied Harry. “They are filled with men!”
“Is Hunston amongst them?”
“Not that I can see.”
Jack stood on the veranda and raised his glass to his eye.
He scanned the people in the boats carefully, but could not distinguish his enemy.
Still, Hunston had gone on board.
Kassala was sent to Mecca to get the money for Jack’s ransom draft.
Koosh was in the foremost boat.
Hunston had never been a fighter.
He could scheme and make others fight, but if he could avoid it he never went into the front of the battle.
Life was too precious to be risked.
He was discovered, as Jack raised his glass to the ship, sitting aft.
Hunston also had a binocular, and with a complacent smile, which indicated satisfaction, was watching events.
Koosh landed his men.
They were fifteen in number.
All seemed desperate, turbulent ruffians.
The rascals did not appear to be at all concerned.
Evidently they expected to have an easy victory.
Just what is commonly called a walk-over.
How could they tell that Young Jack was prepared for their approach?
This was beyond their comprehension altogether.
Koosh was at the head of his men.
It had been arranged between him and Hunston that Jack and those with him should be killed.
He would not temporize with him any longer.
Even Clara, who had never done anything to offend him, was in the black list.
The Harkaway division were to be removed root and branch.
Without any military formation the pirates slouched, rather than walked, up to the Calabar.
Jack took command of his men.
It was an anxious moment.
His heart, brave as it was, palpitated.
Would his men stick to him or would they fly at the first shot?
Pilgrim’s Rest would soon be a scene of bloodshed.
Mole retreated to a safe corner. Jack, Monday and Harry were ready.
A shot was fired from without.
It did no damage.
This was the signal for hostilities to commence.
“Out, boys, and at ’em!” cried Jack.
The Arabs rushed out at the word of command.
They poured a volley into the pirates, half of whom fell to the ground.
This was a reception they had not expected.
In a half-hearted manner they returned the fusillade.
Several of the defenders were injured.
“Fall on them with the sword,” said Jack, “hand to hand!”
He led the way.
Koosh fired his pistol at him.
It missed fire.
The next minute their swords clashed and they were engaged in mortal combat.
Koosh was strong but not skillful.
He could not wield the sword as well as Jack, who had the advantage of him at every thrust.
A lunge in carte wounded him in the leg.
Another crippled his arm.
“Have at your heart, vile pig,” yelled Koosh.
“Come on, old boy,” said Jack.
“Christian dog, you shall die!”
“Some day. Don’t be in a hurry. I’m not!”
The pirate aimed a desperate blow at him.
Jack parried it.
Then recovering his guard, he pierced the pirate’s neck.
The jugular vein was severed.
A jet of blood spurted to the air and the terror of the Red Sea sank.
“Allah, il Allah!” he murmured. “There is but one God and Mahomet is his prophet.”
He spoke no more after that.
Those were his last words.
Harry Girdwood and Monday had been doing good work.
In a brief space the pirates were killed to a man.
Jack had lost half his force in the engagement.
The fight had been fierce and stubborn while it lasted.
Harry had received a slash across the cheek.
Monday was shot through the fleshy part of the left arm.
Those casualties, however, were trifling.
Jack called the remainder of his men together.
“I thank you for what you have done!” he exclaimed. “Would you like to serve me again?”
There was a unanimous chorus in the affirmative.
He had made himself liked.
They respected him.
In addition to being a daring leader, he paid well.
No man cares to fight on an empty belly and a vacant pocket.
“What do you want, Effendi?” asked one.
“I shall take possession of the pirate ship Catamaran, and I require a crew to sail her up the Red Sea.”
“How far?”
“To Suez.”
“If you fellows will ship with me for the run to Suez, I will make you a present of the vessel when we arrive there.”
“What a great man!” was the cry.
“You will have to behave yourselves, mind, or you will not have the gift.”
The men promised to be faithful, obedient and hard working.
This was all that Harkaway wanted.
They accepted the situation at once.
Some of the pirates were only wounded. The Arabs, seeing this, stabbed them to death.
They had no idea of giving quarters.
Some of their own party were wounded; these they carried into the hotel.
Pierre Leronge undertook to see to them as well as his limited knowledge of surgery would permit him to do.
Preparations were made to bury the others.
Jack selected half a dozen men as a boat’s crew.
The others were to remain on shore till the morning.
He intended to go aboard at once.
The next day he would sail.
Hunston had to be considered and dealt with.
“Mr. Mole, will you and Monday kindly stay in the hotel with my wife, while Girdwood and I go on board the Catamaran?” said Jack.
“With pleasure,” Mole replied.
“She may want company and a little consolation after this scrimmage.”
“We be dar, sah,” said Monday, “but——”
“What?”
“I’d dearly love to have a cut at ole Hunston.”
“Wait a bit!”
“Yah, yah! Hurrah! You gwine ter settle his hash at last!”
“I certainly am.”
“Good scheme! Push it along!”
“Let me alone. I’m all there.”
Mole and Monday retired to the hotel to do as they were instructed.
With half a dozen of the Arabs, Jack and Harry walked down to the shore.
There were the pirates’ boats.
A short time before they had been filled with men associated with the desire for conquest.
Where were they now?
Leveled with the dust, cut down and confounded.
“I say, Jack,” remarked Harry, “that is a splendid idea of yours.”
“We have licked the pirates—why shouldn’t we have their ship?”
“I see no reason against it.”
“If we wait for the steamer to call at Pilgrim’s Rest what will it be?”
“Pigging in with a lot of frowsy pilgrims who have more Koran than soap and water about them; yet I have always been taught that cleanliness is next to godliness—haven’t you?”
“A white man likes his tub.”
“What do you intend to do with Hunston?” asked Harry Girdwood.
Jack smiled.
“We have not caught the artful beggar yet,” he replied, “but when I do he will have to suffer.”
“Do you mean to be avenged?”
“I think I have a right to be. The man is mad. He is nourishing an insane idea all the time.”
That was so.
The elder Hunston thought sincerely enough that Young Jack or his father was the cause of his brother’s misfortunes and death.
He had espoused his cause.
Whenever Hunston had had a chance he had endeavored to ruin Jack.
This was not very chivalrous on his part.
They had now reached the beach.
The men manned the boat. All Arabs living on the banks of the Red Sea are good boatmen, and can sail a full rigged schooner as well as any one.
They rowed Young Jack and Harry to the Catamaran.
Hunston had disappeared.
Where had he gone to?
Jack had a suspicion that, seeing the result of the battle, he had made his escape in a boat.
Such was not the case.
Hunston was in the habit of drinking hard occasionally.
When he thought he was successful he indulged in brandy.
This was not enough for him.
He wanted more excitement, ending in stupefaction.
This he obtained by smoking opium—hitting the joint—he called it.
Oblivion came in time, and in the slang of the day he become “dopy.”
He was in this state when Young Jack and Harry Girdwood boarded the Catamaran.
The pirates had not left any one except Hunston on the ship.
Jack and his half a dozen Arabs took possession of her as easily as possible.
Not a shot was fired.
There was nobody to oppose them.
Jack divided his crew into watches.
He saw the state Hunston was in, lying in his cabin, and placed a guard over him.
Hunston was not likely to wake for some hours.
Looking around, Jack found a quantity of treasure and money on the pirate ship.
The Catamaran was filled to repletion with plunder, which they spent part of the night in cataloguing.
That night they spent on board.
About six hours they devoted to sleep.
Monday came on board about breakfast time with Clara and Mole.
Jack’s wife could not keep away from him.
She was installed in the chief cabin.
“Me good cook, massa,” said Monday; “let me take the galley; turn you out breakfast.”
“Go ahead,” replied Jack.
Monday went to his work delighted.
Mr. Mole paced the deck to keep a lookout as he said.
There was nothing, however, to be afraid of.
Presently the rest of the volunteer Arab crew came on board.
Jack had the anchor raised.
With a favorable breeze the Catamaran proceeded up the Red Sea.
Her destination was Suez.