There was a pause then, and the silence seemed awful, for the report of the great gun had driven every living thing near at hand to its lair.
“Three marines,” said the lieutenant, sharply, “fire as I give the order. One—two—three!”
The three shots rang out at stated intervals, and the men reloaded and fired as before.
Then they waited again, and the signal was answered in a peculiar way that left no doubt whatever in the minds of those on board, and a murmur of satisfaction ran through the little crew.
And now, for the first time, Lieutenant Johnson began to wonder whether he had doubted the Malay guide without cause. He might have been swept overboard after all, and the hunting-party be really hemmed-in at some stockade.
A few moments’ consideration, however, showed that this could not be the case, for they had journeyed back many miles before the steamer ran aground; and though the river winded a great deal, it was impossible that the stockade could have been higher up. The firing certainly came from quite another direction, away from the river; and shots that were evidently not signals were now heard again—one or two, then three or four together, as if men were skirmishing, and then came several volleys.
There was a fight going on, that was evident; and as the two officers realised this, they felt half-maddened at their helplessness.
They wanted to go to the aid of those who were fighting, but it would have been utter madness to have attempted to land with a detachment in the dark and try to hack a way through the jungle. They might have fired signals and had them responded to, but it would have been a helpless, bewildering piece of folly; and with pulses beating rapidly with excitement, and every nerve on the stretch, they felt themselves bound to a state of inaction, still they felt that they could fire signals to guide those who might, perhaps, get nearer, or, if shut in some place, fight the better for knowing that help was so near.
They did all they could, sending up a rocket from time to time, and twice, at intervals of about an hour, firing a big gun, each signal eliciting a reply from the distance; and then, at intervals of ten minutes, a rifle was fired, while, when six, seven, and eight bells were sounded, the same number of rifle-shots were heard.
It was a night of general watching on board the steamer, no man seeking shelter, though about seven bells the rain began to pour down with all the violence of a storm in the tropics, accompanied by thunder and lightning of the heaviest and most vivid description.