With Drake on the Spanish Main

by Herbert Strang

Bombarded

Bullets pattered upon the wall and the cliff behind; but Dennis and his men, lying low, took no hurt, and made no reply to the Spaniards' fire. This presently ceased, and Dennis, peering with caution through one of the embrasures in the wall, saw the summit of the opposite cliff lined with the enemy, who were clearly examining the position with careful interest, and discussing it with animation. At length, firing one or two shots as by way of farewell, they withdrew from the edge and disappeared among the trees.

"God be praised for all his mercies," said Amos, rising to his feet. "But I know not what is to be the end of this."

"Nor I," said Dennis. "'Tis not to be believed they have left us altogether, but rather that they have retired to consider of the next move. They can do us no hurt from the cliff yonder except they bring great guns from their ships to bombard us. Nor can they assault us from below, for the ascent is steep, and however bold they may be, they will not come up merely to be shot at. We must e'en wait and be ready."

"Ay, and think on Jan Biddle and what his villainous knavery has brought us to. But for him we should by this be snug in Plimworth, a-kissing of our wives and little ones—those that have them. Ah! sweet Margery Tutt! What a power of mischief one base villain can do!"

The day passed in quietude, the men cleaning their weapons and still further strengthening the wall. The tide rose in the gully, gently dandling the pinnace as she lay at anchor in the pool. Many a longing glance was cast at the little craft, many a sigh broke from the breasts of the mariners as they saw in imagination the dear cliffs of England, which even the most confident among them scarcely hoped ever to behold again.

Darkness fell. Nothing was heard save the rumble of the surf beyond the entrance of the gully, and the lapping of the waves against the base of the cliffs. Looking seawards, in the starlight Dennis saw the mouth of the little harbour like a deep blue cleft in the blackness. He had just divided the company into watches, to keep guard over the ledge while the others slept, when Juan the maroon caught his arm and pointed to a small dark patch at the bottom of the cleft. It seemed to be moving towards them. At the same time there was a series of flashes from the cliff opposite; bullets flew among them, one hitting Ned Whiddon in the arm. Instantly all the men sank below the level of the wall, and Dennis, crouching close against it, looked through one of the embrasures at that dark object slowly approaching up the gully, looming larger every moment.

The meaning of it had already flashed upon him. A boat, perhaps the same as had appeared earlier in the day, was coming in to cut out the pinnace. The outbreak of firing from the cliff was intended to mask the movement and deter the defenders from interfering.

"You see their cunning," said Dennis to Turnpenny, who had crept to his side. "By day they would not dare come within the range of our calivers; they know that by night we can but fire at random, and endamage them little."

"My heart, but we must save the pinnace!" said Turnpenny. "She is all our hope and salvation."

"Not all, Amos," replied Dennis. "You forget the canoe which the maroons built for us; they will build another. But I am not content to lose the Minion; how could we face Master Drake and confess we had lost her? I would fain save her, but how?"

"Ah, if we had but torches to light the scene!" said Tom Copstone—"like to those we had at Fort Aguila yonder."

"Thanks for that word!" cried Dennis. "Quick, Amos, into the shed! I bethink me there are barrels of oil that we did not place aboard the Mirandola. Broach one, man; tear some of your garments into rags and plentifully soak them in the oil. These we will light and fling down into the pool."

Skipping back from the wall, Turnpenny and Copstone went into the shed and crept back in less than two minutes with armfuls of drenched rags. These they kindled and threw hastily over into the pool below. The enemy opposite poured in a hotter fire, but the little company kept close and none was hit. The device was not a moment too soon. By the light of the blazing rags it could be seen that the Spaniards had swarmed on board the pinnace, hauled up her anchor, and fastened her head rope to their boat. She was indeed already moving slowly towards the sea.

"Fire, my lads!" cried Dennis. "Let them not all escape."

Half a dozen of the men leapt forward, and, heedless of the enemy's bullets, discharged their calivers at the men on the deck of the pinnace. Cries proclaimed that some at any rate had hit the mark; but in an instant afterwards the Minion's deck was clear, the Spaniards having sprung overboard or gone below. Still the vessel slowly receded. As she was between the towing-boat and the ledge, the rowers were protected from the Englishmen's bullets, and they uttered a derisive yell as foot by foot they drew the vessel nearer the sea.

"The falconet, Amos!" cried Dennis. "'Tis time to use our ordnance."

"But we be too high, sir. I cannot lower the muzzle so as to bear on the pinnace."

"You will be able to do that as she draws nearer the shoulder of the cliff. Lay the gun in readiness."

"Zuggers, sir, but if I hit the poor little craft 'twill smash her."

"I care not. If we cannot keep her whole, neither shall the Spaniards have her whole. Lay the gun, man."

"My heart, and so I will, and the knaves shall have a plumper, od-rat-en!"

The entrance to the gully was dimly lit by the burning rags floating in the wake of the pinnace. Amos had shoved the gun through the embrasure, and, with his eye along its upper surface, watched the little vessel as she floated on towards the open sea. The firing opposite had now ceased; it was as though the Spaniards, sure of success, disdained to waste more powder and shot. Apparently they were watching the departing pinnace with so much interest that they had not observed the muzzle of the falconet projecting from the wall.

The vessel was now at the very entrance of the gully. In another half minute she would round the shoulder of the cliff and disappear. But before that half minute was past there was a flash from the ledge; a round shot flew seawards; and next moment there were shrieks from the Spaniards who, now that they were out of range of the defenders' small arms, had again come on deck. The shot had struck the vessel square astern. Her rudder was shattered; she swung round on the tide, and in another instant ran aground on a shoal and stuck fast.

A mighty cheer rose from the ledge when the men saw the effect of Turnpenny's shot.

"'Twas famous, Haymoss," cried Copstone. "Man, 'twas a thumping twack!"

And Hugh Curder in his glee lifted up his voice:

"Then next the blacksmith he came in,
And said 'Twas mighty hot!'"

"Smother you!" cried Turnpenny. "Think of the little poor craft yonder; 'tis like striking a 'ooman, and goes to my heart."

"But 'ee'd do that in kindness, Haymoss," said Copstone. "See, the knaves cannot pull her off; she be firm on the rocks, and with the tide falling they'll never move her. They'll think twice before they try that same device again."

An angry volley from the cliff opposite set them all scurrying again to cover behind the wall. It proved as Copstone had said. After vainly endeavouring for some time to haul the pinnace from the shoal, the occupants of the boat cast off the rope and disappeared. The flames of the burning rags went out one by one; black darkness settled over the gully; quietness reigned all around; and leaving three men to keep the first watch, the rest drew their garments around them and sought sleep, wondering what the coming day might have in store.

Dennis passed a miserable night. He could not share the childlike elation which Turnpenny's successful shot had produced in the minds of the mariners. He felt that this enemy was not to be baulked; every little set-back would only strengthen the Spaniards' resolve to crush their opponents; and by this time they could be in no doubt how small was the company resisting them. His head ached with thinking before he fell asleep, and when he woke, before dawn, it was with throbbing temples and anxious heart.

And when he got up and looked towards the sea, he felt his spirit die within him; for there, just past the shoulder of the cliff and some distance out to sea, lay one of the enemy's vessels, moored at a point which he had fondly believed to be unapproachable by any craft of her size. She had been descried by the men of the last watch, but the meaning of the move was not clear to them as it was instantly to him. The ledge was just within range of her guns, for although the shoulder of the cleft hid the pool from any vessel in the main channel, it was just within sight from the spot to which the enemy's vessel had worked.

"Jaykle! the skipper must be rare and bold," cried Turnpenny.

"And a mariner of right good skill," said Dennis.

But their admiration was turned to grave alarm when, with a roar, the whole of the vessel's broadside was suddenly fired, and the round shot came hurtling up the gully. To reply was impossible. The small guns on the ledge were too light to carry the distance. And there was nothing to be hoped for from bad marksmanship on the enemy's part. The first discharge had no effect except to displace masses of rock and earth from the cliff below the ledge.

"They cannot raise their muzzles high enough to hit the ledge," cried Turnpenny in delight.

But this fond hope was shattered at the next broadside. One shot struck the hut; another tore a great gap in the wall; a third chipped off large pieces of rock; several men were wounded.

"Our wall is vain now," said Dennis. "Another shot will tear it away, and we shall have no defence against the calivers of the enemy when they again appear on the cliff. Ah! and there they come. We must run for the cave, Amos; 'tis our last refuge. Lead the men thither; let them carry our arms and munitions, and what water and stores they can. I and Copstone and one or two more will strive to make reply to the enemy while aught of our wall remains."

Bullets were already falling on the ledge. Led by Turnpenny, most of the men, loaded with things, scuttled along the face of the cliff into the thicket that half concealed the mouth of the cave. Dennis with three companions fired back at the opposite cliff; but in a few minutes another volley of round shot came crashing up the gully, and scarcely a man on the ledge but was wounded by splinters of rock, though none was directly hit by the shot. It was hopeless to cling to the position longer.

"Follow me, lads," cried Dennis; and, rushing down the ledge to where it widened and was overgrown with bushes, he and his comrades joined the others safely in the cave.