“Hurt, sir?” I cried in agony.
“Yes, badly—no—I don’t know,” he cried, struggling up with his hand to his head. “Here! why has that boat stopped?”
His voice was drowned by the reports of our men’s rifles, as they fired in the direction from which the shots had come; and just then a voice from the laden boat came through the semi-darkness—
“Ahoy!”
“Yes; what is it?” I said, as I saw that a man had crawled over the stack-like load.
“There’s a gang in front, sir; and we’re aground.”
“And the tide falling,” muttered Mr Reardon. “Herrick, I’m a bit hurt; get our boat close up; half the men are to come astern here, and check the enemy; the other half to help unload and get enough into our boat to lighten the other.”
“Yes, sir,” I said; and I gave the orders as quickly and decisively as I could.
The men responded with a cheer; and, with scarcely any confusion, our boat’s head was made fast to the other’s stern, and the men swarmed on to the top of the load, and began to pass down the bales rapidly from hand to hand.
Crash came a ragged volley from right ahead now; but this was answered by three rifles in the stern of the laden boat, and repeated again and again, while the strong party in the stern of ours kept up a fierce fire for a few minutes.