They were but a few yards off and ceased firing. Evidently they had spent all their ammunition, and were going to attempt to board the vessel and capture it with a hand-to-hand fight.
While they were yet watching, one of the boats drew near to the vessel's side, and the next moment a head appeared above the bulwarks of the dahabîeh, quickly followed by another and another.
This was the signal Naoum's men waited for, and without further delay they set to work with a will, pitching the struggling rebels back into the water and taking pot shots at them afterwards as if they were ducks.
The struggle, however, had only just begun; as fast as the defenders beat the assailants off more came on. Whilst the mêlée was in progress the defenders had not seen the other boats come alongside, and the reinforcements they brought. All along the side of the dahabîeh the Arabs were clambering up like so many ants, and though the advantage was still with Naoum, the outcome looked doubtful. The crew were hard put to it.
Helmar worked indefatigably with his rifle used as a club; everywhere he darted, dealing terrible blows as the dusky creatures showed themselves, but despite his efforts they seemed to be in overwhelming numbers.
At last they gained a foothold on the deck, and the firing ceased altogether. It became a struggle to the death, man against man. It was here the crew showed their superiority over their enemies, and slowly but surely began to drive them back.
Suddenly George saw three men pressing Naoum sorely. He himself had just succeeded in throwing off his own assailant; with a bound he went to his friend's rescue. He arrived only just in time, the men were in the act of knifing him.
Without a thought, he rained blow after blow with his clubbed rifle on the would-be assassins, and they went down like ninepins; then, turning to where the crew were fighting, he saw to his delight that they had driven the foe back over the bulwarks, while the deck lay covered with damaged rebels. Naoum's men had fought like demons, and their devotion to their master touched Helmar—it would have been so much easier for them to have sold him.
In a few more moments the rebels were driven off, dropping over the side into the water, without thinking as to the whereabouts of the boats so long as they got safely out of the hornet's nest they had fallen into.
As the last of them disappeared, Helmar fell rather than sat down on the deck, breathing hard.