As he spoke he dragged the little narrow mattress out of a bunk, and, signing to Drew to take hold of one end, they raised it and placed it across the window to act as a screen, while Mr Rimmer thrust out one arm, got hold of a rope, and drew up the dead-light which was struck several times before he got it perfectly secure.
“Oh, you’re there, Smith,” he said, turning to the sailor, who, now feeling very penitent, was down on one knee holding a panikin of water to Oliver Lane’s lips. “How came you to leave the cabin, and with that window open?”
“I didn’t, sir. Window was shut fast enough when I left it, and I only went for some water for the gentlemen to drink.”
“And nearly sent them to their graves?” cried the mate.
“Will you come on deck, sir, please?” cried one of the men, who had come to the cabin door with his face looking drawn and scared.
“Yes. What is it?” said the mate.
“There’s a lot more on ’em just come up, sir, and we think they’re going to rush us now.”
“Yes. Come on, Mr Drew. You, too, Smith. Quick, they’re attacking.”
For there was a terrific yelling, and the sound indicated that it must come from quite a crowd.
They rushed on deck and none too soon, for, at the first glance Drew obtained, he could see that the savages had surrounded the brig, and that many of them bore small palm trunk poles whose purpose was evident the next moment, for a dozen men rushed forward and laid them from the earth to the bulwarks, sinking down directly to clasp the little trees with their arms while as many of their companions leaped up, took as high a hold as they could, and then began to swarm up toward the deck.