It took more than one good tug, but after the first tentative trial, which seemed to cause the man no suffering, the first lieutenant pulled hard, and at last drew the spear right through the two pierced portions of the tough buff leather.
“That’s your sort, gentlemen,” said the man. “Here, who’s got my musket?”
“Steady, my lad,” said the lieutenant. “Now, then, do you feel faint?”
“Orfle, sir, inside,” said the man, “but I want a drink o’ water worst.”
“But are you in pain?” asked Murray.
“Smarts a bit, but it don’t hardly bleed at all. I’m all right, sir, only tickles enough to make a chap a bit savage. Here, don’t you worry about me, sir. I’m as fit as a fiddle, gentlemen, and I on’y want now to play the niggers such a toon as’ll make them jump again.”
“Hah!” ejaculated the lieutenant. “Only a bit of a false alarm, Mr Murray.”
“Thankye, sir. Yes, that’s right. Does me good to grip my musket again.”
“Then try and use it, Titely,” said the midshipman, “for here they come again.—Yes, May; we hear them.”
The lieutenant’s command was given directly after, and again a volley rang out, this time to check the enemy’s advance and drive them back so thoroughly that the silence was once more intense; and as the party stood with strained ears, listening, Murray uttered an exclamation.