Middy and Ensign

by George Manville Fenn

Chapter Forty Eight.

Pleasant Days at the Fort.

Matters seemed to grow worse from the moment that Adam Gray started off on his mission to the steamer, and Captain Smithers’ brows seemed to have settled into a constant frown, for it was no light matter to be in command of the little fort, right away from aid, and only with a limited supply of provisions. They might be made to last weeks or months; but the end must come, and he saw no chance of help from outside, unless the steamer went off to the nearest station in search thereof.

Then there was the constant worry upon his brain about the expedition and its fate, for there could be no doubt about Ali’s news; the force had been divided by cunning, and with such treacherous enemies he felt but little hope of seeing any of the party again.

Fortunately for him and the sharers of his imprisonment—for it was little else—their minds were too much occupied by the defence of the place to give them time to sit and brood over their troubles. There was always something to do, some weak part to strengthen; and Captain Smithers longed for the help of the lieutenant with the steamer to guard outside of the fort.

There was this to consider too—if Lieutenant Johnson could get the “Startler” off the mud, and round to the other side by Dullah’s hut and the landing-place, if they were very hard pressed the fort could be abandoned, and, with the women, they could take refuge on board. Or better still—though he felt reluctant to make such an arrangement—the women could be got on board, and then the fort could be defended to the last extremity.

In the course of those next hours while awaiting Gray’s return, the Malays made two or three sharp attacks, all of which were repelled; and then, unable to assist, they waited, and listened to the engagement going on upon the other side of the patch of jungle that clothed a part of the island. The heavy reports of the steamer’s guns made the frames of the lightly-built dwellings rattle, and the smoke could be seen rising above the trees; but how the tide of war set it was impossible to tell, and Captain Smithers, as he walked up and down, felt as if he would have given anything for a trusty native spy who would have sought out news of what was going on.

Failing this, and not daring to send out a second party, although Tom Long volunteered to go, there was nothing for it but to wait, especially as their besiegers had evidently been greatly augmented in numbers, and one of the soldiers had but to show himself for a moment to bring upon himself a shower of bullets.

The suspense grew maddening, as the noise of the engagement between the prahus and the “Startler” increased. The yells of the Malays could be plainly heard; then the reports of the heavy guns ceased; there was a little rifle firing, the occasional crack of a revolver; and lastly came the faintly-heard noise of men contending in deadly strife.