“An arrow. For goodness’ sake keep in shelter, for I’m afraid they’re poisoned.”
“Glad to see you back safe,” cried the captain, hurrying up to him. “I can talk to the miserable wretches now. Hi! there, forward. Come away from those guns. Capstan-bars, all of you. Keep in shelter, and down with every one who tries to get on board; but mind the spears.”
A few more orders were given, a tub to buoy the cable thrown over the side, and the yacht began to glide steadily with the tide, as the engine clanked, and the motion of the shaft produced its regular vibration through the graceful vessel, with only two men visible to those in the canoes—the captain and the man at the wheel, and they both sheltering themselves from the black marksmen as well as they could, the sailor kneeling on the grating.
The savages in three canoes uttered a furious yelling, and plunged their paddles over the sides to attack in front and on both quarters, but one was a little late in crossing the yacht’s bows, and the next minute, with full steam ahead, and in obedience to movements of the captain’s hands, the sharp prow of the swift vessel struck the sluggish canoe full in the side about ’midships. Then a dull crashing sound, but no perceptible shock. The Silver Star cut the canoe cleanly in two, and the portions of the destroyed vessel floated by on either side, coming in collision with the others, which after closing in with a vain attempt to board, grated against the yacht and were then left far astern.
It was all the matter of a minute. A few black heads appeared above the bulwarks, as their owners leaped up and tried to climb on deck, but a sharp blow, rarely repeated, sent them back into the lagoon with a splash, to swim to the floating canoes, and the fight was over, save that an arrow or two came whizzing to stick in the white planks; but the enemy was too much engaged in picking up the swimming warriors to continue their assault.
“There,” cried the captain, rubbing his hands. “Your men-of-war may carry the biggest guns they like, and their crews may be drilled to the greatest perfection, but to my mind nothing comes up to the management of the craft under a good head of steam. Now, Sir John, shall we give them a few rounds of grape-shot, or let the poor wretches study the lesson they have had?”
“No, no,” cried Jack eagerly, “they’re beaten; let them go.”
Sir John nodded his approval, saying nothing, for he seemed eager to let his son come well to the front.
“Very good,” said the captain. “Then I think we’ll run outside and lie-to a mile or so beyond the reef, and see what they mean to do, for I suppose you don’t want to give up the island to the enemy!”
“No, it would be a pity,” said Sir John, “just when we are getting on so well. But what do you say, Bradleigh, will not this be a sufficient lesson for them?”