I glanced fearfully over my shoulder in the direction of the shore, and saw that the pirates were reloading their rifles. None of them had attempted to follow us into the sea, much to my surprise. Either they could not swim, or they thought it less trouble to rely on the co-operation of the negroes, to whom they continued to yell orders in loud and threatening tones.
When we got within easy speaking distance, Mr. Triggs addressed the negroes in English.
“If you take us on board, Johnny,” he said, “and convey us safely away from the island, we’ll give you fifty pounds.”
Ned also jabbered something to them in his smattering of Spanish, as he thought they might be ignorant of English.
Meanwhile we did not relax our efforts to gain the boat’s side.
I saw the negro who was grasping the pistol begin to slowly raise his arm. Both men looked savage and determined. The fat negress still sat in the stern-sheets with a bewildered expression on her bloated face and her blubber lips widely parted.
My heart sank within me, and I was beginning to feel terribly fatigued. A scrimmage on board the boat would be, I felt, quite beyond my powers. It was a question whether I should even have sufficient strength left to clamber on board. Even the negress could easily keep me at bay if she chose. I knew that. But as yet she showed no disposition to join in the impending fray.
“Look out! the swab’s going to shoot,” came from Ned in warning tones.
The next moment a dart of flame issued from the boat, and a bullet whizzed away harmlessly somewhere.
In spite of my rapidly failing powers, I could not help giving a shout of astonishment, for I had particularly noticed that the negro had deliberately aimed a long way above our heads.