CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.
"FIRE AWAY!"
The leading junk was soon some distance down the river, the confusion onboard from the steady rifle-fire, which caused man after man to drop,checking all efforts to recover the lost ground; but the second junk hadtaken its place, and those on board were pouring in a hot fire from twoclumsy swivel-guns, consisting of showers of rough missiles, bullets,broken iron, and the like.
But little damage was done to the sheltered defenders, who, animated bythe example set from the little bastion, kept up a steady, regular fire,with certainly more than half the shots telling among the Chinamenworking the guns or giving orders.
In the intervals of his firing, however, Stan kept on imploring Blunt tolet him summon help, or cease firing and attend to the injury.
"Go on firing, as I told you," cried the wounded man in an angry snarl."Can't you see that you are helping me by what you are doing."
"But you must be getting faint."
"I am," said Blunt fiercely, "with the hard work to keep you at work.Do you think I want our men to be put out of heart because I am bowledover?"
"No," said Stan, with his cheek against his rifle-stock, and he pulledthe trigger, sending a leaden messenger at one of the enemy who wasabout to lower his smoking linstock, which produced a savage yell by itseffect; for the man with the burning match flung up his hands, thelinstock went flying overboard, and Stan's frown deepened as he feltthat he had desperately wounded the gunner, who was being borne awaybefore the lad's rifle was again charged.
"That was another hit, wasn't it?" said Blunt anxiously.
"I think so," was the reply, "but I'm not sure that it was my shot."
"Never mind so long as it's one murderer the less. Keep on firing, mylad, while you can get so good a chance. I can't see what the rest aredoing. It seems to me that they are only wasting powder."
"Oh no," said Stan; "men on the junk keep on falling. But there are twomore junks coming close up."
"And you haven't checked them. Fire away! Try and hit the steersmen."
"It's hard work to see them so as to pick them out," said Stan, "butI'll do my best."
The lad's best was to aim carefully at the men holding the steering-oarsof the second and fourth junks, but excitement combined with thedistance affected the steadiness of his aim, and he uttered an impatientejaculation as he saw the two great crowded vessels coming steadilyonward.
"We shall be having all three close in together," he muttered. "It'simpossible to keep them off."
But better fortune had attended his efforts than he had given himselfcredit for. In each case his carefully aimed shot had taken effect, andthey were supplemented by the shattering fire kept up by the defendersat the other loopholes. Certainly the third and fourth junks werecoming in fast, but it was in an ungoverned way, and their action soonafter produced a savagely furious volley from the captain of the secondjunk; for its companions came on to crash into it, with theaccompaniment of falling masts and sails, and the confusion oftop-hamper, a good deal of which came down upon the men, who yelledshrilly and angrily until they were extricated or able to get free.
In spite of the faintness and sinking caused by his wound, Blunt heldtightly on by the cord binding the bale against which he had proppedhimself, and watched everything that took place with swimming eyes, butan intense feeling of satisfaction as he witnessed the disasters of theattacking pirates. And every now and again when the noise grew lessoverpowering he hurriedly went on giving his companion instructions totake careful aim at this one and that of the enemy's force, and did notfail to give praise when the shot was successful.
"Bravo! Well done, lieutenant!" he said hoarsely. "That's a murdererthe more put out of action. Don't shudder; three parts of them willunfortunately get better, but they're done for this time." Then: "Keepit up, my lad. You take my place now and lead the fighting. Nobodyknows yet that I'm down. You'll have to give the order soon to withdrawinto the warehouse."
"Not fight it out here?" cried Stan eagerly, for he was fast growingintoxicated with the wild excitement of the fray, and had forgotten allabout the danger of his position.
"No; it is impossible. You are only hindering them now and cripplingthem as much as is possible, but before long they will come like a waveover the sides of the junks, and swarm up to the defence here, and youwill not be able to resist them."
"But we should all have a much better chance to shoot them down then."
"Of course; and a dozen or two would be struggling on the stones. Butif a hundred were shot down it would make no difference; they would comeon all the same in their blind, savage fury, for they think nothing ofthose who fall. Here, leave your rifle where it is for a few moments.That's right. Now take this whistle. Put it in your vest-pocket, whereyou can get at it easily, and after they have made their first rush, useit."
"Yes," said Stan huskily as he thrust the little instrument into hiswatch-pocket; "but about you? Hadn't I better call a couple of thecoolies to come and lift you into your room?"
"No!" snapped out Blunt, as if he were maddened by the pain he suffered."Do you want to turn a brave resistance into a panic?"
"No; of course not, but--"
"Silence!" cried the poor fellow sternly. "The men are fightingsplendidly now, and I want them to go on till such time as it isnecessary to get inside and continue the defence from the upper windows.Do you hear?"
"Yes; and I'll do all you wish, but I must have time to get you safeinside."
"Leave that to me," said Blunt slowly and in a more gentle tone. Andthen, as if warned by his sensations, he continued: "If I faint, useyour own common-sense. Don't hesitate: fight till it seems folly tohold on longer here; then blow the whistle with all your might. Some ofthem are sure to rush to your help. Then let a couple take me by thehands and drag me--don't let them stop to carry me--drag me in throughthe first doorway."
"I'll take one hand myself."
"You'll do nothing of the kind," cried Blunt passionately. "I order youto take my place as captain, and as your father's son save us all fromthis murderous scum. You're captain now--do you hear?"
Stan nodded.
"Then act sensibly. Do you want to give up directing and turn yourselfinto a coolie to save one helpless man, and perhaps sacrifice your ownlife?"
"But you are--"
"Only one," snapped the manager; "and the most useless one here. Nowback to your place, and go on firing as the captain should, to bringdown more of the miscreants and encourage our brave fellows. If youfail now I'm not able to strike, the rest will be out of heart at once."
"You are giving me more than I can do," half-groaned Stan. "I'm only aboy."
"Forget that, Stan," said his wounded comrade harshly. "I say you'reacting like a man. Now fire at that giant of a fellow standing in thegangway waving his great broad-bladed sword--"
There was the sharp crack of Stan's rifle, and the big, showily dressedChinaman followed the direction in which he waved the sword--that is,shoreward--and literally dived off the junk into the river, to be seenno more by those in the bastion.
"Well done--for a boy!" cried Blunt mockingly as he passed his left handover his streaming brow. "I only hope every man at the back and rightand left is doing as well. Mind when you retreat that the doors arewell barricaded.--Reloaded?"
"Yes," cried Stan, who felt as if his companion's words were goading himto act in a way contrary to his nature, and without further urging hefired again and again.
"Good--good!" panted Blunt. "I daren't turn to look back, because Ishould expose myself--and I know that if I stirred I should faint--buttell me, how are the fellows behaving?"
"Keeping up a steady fire, just as you told them. I can see the poorwretches falling killed or wounded. There goes another into the river."
"Hah!" sighed Blunt. "I can't tell the difference between their firingand ours. It seemed, though, as if our fire was dropping off."
"It isn't
that," said Stan, passing his reloaded rifle into his lefthand so as in turn to wipe his streaming face with his right, quiteunconscious of the fact that he had covered it with the wet, black,exploded powder fresh from the breech of his piece and his usedcartridges, and now leaving a broad black smudge across his forehead anddown each cheek--"it isn't that. I'm sure our men are firingsplendidly, but the enemy are using their clumsy pieces now from thejunks."
"Yes, that's it," said Blunt slowly. "But what are they doing now? Ican't see for this cloud of smoke."
"Getting the junks closer in with poles. They're going to leap ashore,I think, and make a rush.--But there is no cloud," he muttered tohimself; "the wind is driving it away."
"Be ready, then," said Blunt. "Fire once more right into the thick ofthem, reload--and--then be ready--to sound retreat--to--sound--"
Stan took a quick aim, fired, threw open the breech of his piece withhis fingers trembling, and then closed it again, using stern resolutionto carry out his orders, though all the time he felt sure that Blunt wasas he found him when he looked round--that is to say, lying motionlesson the floor of the bastion, but with his fingers still crooked in thecord of the bale.
"It must be nearly time," groaned Stan to himself, as he felthalf-stunned for the moment.
But a moment only. The next he was grinding his teeth as he againpassed his rifle into his left hand to feel for his knife with theright, take it out, and open the blade.
For he foresaw a terrible difficulty as he glanced first at Blunt's handstill clinging to the cord, and in dread lest the desperate clutch mightprove a hindrance, he bent down and, as quickly as he could, sawedthrough the tightly strained cord, which quivered and then, as the laststrand was severed, sprang apart with a sharp crack, springing out ofthe wounded man's fingers and leaving the arm free to fall across hisbreast.
Stan sighed as he replaced the knife and turned to fire once more; buthe saw at once that if the retreat was to be made and a fatalhand-to-hand conflict, which could only terminate in their all beingborne down, avoided, the signal must be given at once.
The time had come. In fact, as he placed the whistle to his lips hefelt that the call had been deferred too long, for there was a furiousyelling, accompanied by a deafening beating of gongs, and with a roar ahuman torrent came pouring out of the gangways and off the sides of thetwo nearest junks; while the crews of two more, which were interlockedwith their companions, rushed on to the nearer decks to cross andsupplement the attack.
"They'll never hear it!" thought Stan as he blew with all his might,just as every holder of a rifle was making it spit its deadly cones oflead right into the thick of the enemy's advance.
But he was wrong. At the first shrill chirrup of the silver whistle,its keen, strident tones cut through the heavy roar of the gongs andvoices, and as the firing from the junks had ceased so as to allow theenemy to advance, so did that of the defence; and while Stan was drawingbreath to repeat the piercing call, there was the quick sound offootsteps, and two of the clerks appeared at the back.
"Dead?" shouted one as he saw Blunt lying motionless.
"No," shouted Stan. "Quick! A hand each, and drag him in. Off!"
The last words acted like an electric shock, and in less time than ittakes to tell it the manager's hands were seized, and with his head justclear of the ground, the two bearers doubled with him along the back ofthe tea-chest wall and in through the open doorway.
Stan followed them till he too reached the opening, and then stood backagainst the chests waiting while man after man dashed up to this and thefarther door, till the last had passed in, and then with unconscious,bravery the lad followed.
It was none too soon, for as he reached the lintel the hands of a scoreof savages, armed with swords and spears, appeared above the fraildefence, assisted to the top by their fellows. Directly after theybegan to tumble over, heedless of the firing now being opened upon themagain from the upper windows of the warehouse; and then, wild with furyas several dropped, they made a dash at the doorway into which some ofthem had seen Stan dive.
Stan Lynn: A Boy's Adventures in China Page 26