An instant and the English Jack floated over each boat, while at the same time the first three boats in the battle line opened with their rapid-firers.
At the distance, scarcely two hundred yards, the execution was terrible. The German officers and the entire gun squad, riddled with bullets, fell forward on their faces.
But this was only the beginning.
Swiftly moving German troops now came marching to the river front, steadily, in spite of the withering British fire, and sternly, to repel the foe. Slowly they came into position, and, dropping on their knees, poured a volley into the little flotilla.
But, deadly as this fire was, that of the rapid-firers aboard the boats was more so. The British did not escape without considerable damage, but the German loss was far heavier.
Steadily, in spite of the grilling German fire, the boats pressed on.
Each man concealed himself as well as he could behind the low sides of the boats, exposing just enough of his head to take aim at the enemy.
The first boats were now but a scant hundred yards away. For some reason, evidently thinking to pick off the men in the boats, the enemy had not brought artillery to bear. But at this juncture a squad sprang forward to serve the gun already used.
A charge was rammed home and the gun sighted; but, as the man detailed was about to pull the lanyard, Frank sprang suddenly to his feet in the boat and his revolver spoke. The German flung wide his arms and toppled to the ground. Another sprang to his place, but only to meet the same fate; and another, and still another.
All this time the little rapid-firers were continuing their deadly work, and at last a bugle sounded the call for the German retreat. Slowly they drew off, firing as they went, but, as the British now moved up faster, the Teutons turned and ran.