It was a perilous time, for we knew that if the enemy pushed forward boldly we should be at their mercy. They could come right to the edge of the bank unseen, so dense was the cover; and, working as our men were at such a disadvantage in the gloom, which was rapidly growing deeper, there was no knowing how long it would be before the first boat was sufficiently lightened to float again; it even seemed to be possible that we might not keep pace with the fall of the tide, and then perhaps we should also be aground.
“Hurt much, sir?” I said to Mr Reardon, who was now seated resting his head upon his hand.
“Don’t take any notice of me, my lad,” he said, pressing my hand. “Hit by a bullet. Not very bad; but I’m half stunned and confused. The men and boats, Herrick; save them.”
“If I can,” I thought, as I hurried forward again, and gave orders to the men to pass the silk bales that were nearest to the bows.
“Ay, ay, sir,” they shouted, as readily as if I had been the captain.
From here I went back to the stern, where I found that Mr Reardon was seated now in the bottom of the boat, supported by Ching, while the men were keeping up a steady fire at every spot from which a shot or yell came.
“We’re hard at it, sir,” said Tom Jecks, who was handling his rifle as coolly as if it had been a capstan bar; “but I don’t think we’re hitting any of ’em. How’s the first luff seem?”
“I don’t know,” I said excitedly.
“Well, sir, we’re all right,” said the man, “and are doing our best. You needn’t stop if you can hurry the boys on forward.”
It was a fact; I could do no good at all, so I hurried forward again. But even here I could do nothing; the men had their task to do of lightening the first boat, and they were working as hard as if they had been lying down in the shade all day, and just as coolly, though every now and then the rough slugs the pirates fired from their clumsy matchlocks went spattering through the trees overhead and sent down fresh showers of leaves and twigs.