The desertion of these last men left on the Sally only the four officers, Roy, Mauger, Silva, and Silva's two men. Faith was still helpless, so was Roy, and Mauger had dragged himself upright against the bulwarks and stripped up his shirt to investigate his wound. It was bleeding profusely, but he found he could breathe without difficulty, and told himself shrewdly that he would come out all right.
Of men able to fight aboard the Sally, there were left Dan'l, Silva, and the two seamen on one side, against Brander and Tichel and Cox. The attitude of Tichel and Cox was in some sort uncertain. But the problem was quickly settled....
Dan'l, dropping Faith and flinging Roy aside, had charged into the main cabin to finish Brander; but Brander was so inextricably involved in his struggle with his three antagonists that Dan'l got no immediate chance at him. He was shifting around the twisting tangle of men, watching, when Willis came out of his cabin in a single leap.... Willis had been asleep; he was in shirt and trousers, his belt tight-girthed. He stared stupidly, not understanding.
Dan'l, balked of his chance at Brander, took Willis for fair game. If he thought at all, it was to remember that Willis was loyal to Faith. He attacked before Willis was fully awake, and bore the other man back into the cabin from which Willis had come. He bent Willis against the bunks so that for an instant it seemed the man's back would snap; but desperation gave Willis the strength to fling himself away.... They whirled into the cabin, still fighting. Dan'l was drunk with his own rage by now.... He had thrown himself into a debauch of battle; and he proved, this night, that he could fight when he chose....
He rocked Willis at last with a left-hand blow in the ribs, so that the younger man dropped his arms to hug his bruised body; and Dan'l drove home his fist to the other's jaw. The blow smacked loudly; and Willis went down without a sound, his jaw broken....
If old Tichel had come down the companion ladder a minute sooner, he might have saved Willis; and he and Willis between them might have overcome Dan'l. But he was too late for that; he was in time to see Willis fall; and before he could speak, Dan'l Tobey had attacked him.
Dan'l was pure maniac now; he did not stop to ask whether Tichel were friend or foe. And Tichel, old man though he was, was never one to refuse a battle. He met Dan'l's charge with the tigerish venom that characterized him in his rages; he leaped and was fairly in the air when Dan'l struck him. But Dan'l's greater weight and the impetus of his charge were too much for old Tichel. In the flash of a second, Dan'l had him by the throat, down, banging his head against the floor till the skin of his scalp was crushed and the blood flowed, and Tichel at last lay still....
Dan'l got up, choking for breath, his chin down on his chest. There was blood on him; his shirt was torn; his hair was wild. The mild, round face of the man was distorted by wrinkles of passion. His lip was bruised by a blow, and it puffed out in a surly, drunken way.... He stood there, tottering, looking with blinking eyes at the heap of men fighting at one side of the cabin.... Brander was in that heap somewhere. It was still less than thirty seconds since Dan'l had smashed Willis's jaw. Dan'l stepped unsteadily toward the heap of men and peered down at them and laid hands on them to pull them away.... They were too closely intertwined....
He backed off and looked around for a weapon. In a corner of the cabin he saw something that might serve.... The head of a killing lance.... A bar of metal three or four feet long, flattened at one end like the blade of a putty knife, and ground to the keenest edge.... In the whale-fisheries, it would be mounted on a staff; but there was no staff in it now. He picked the thing up, and balanced it in his hands, and walked gingerly back toward the striving knot of men.