“Ah! what are you going to do?” roared the major, as he saw a man about to fire. “Don’t waste your shot, man. Stand back till you can see the whites of your enemy’s eyes, and then let him have it.”
There was a thrill running through the men, and click, click, of lock after lock.
“That’s it,” said the major, “cool as cucumbers. Bravo, lads! What soldiers I could make of all of you! Now, look here, I’ll give the order to fire, but what you have to do is this: wait till these black murdering scoundrels make a hole in the defence, and then you fill it up with the mouth of your pieces, and look sharp, before they thrust through a spear.”
The men uttered a low growl, and the captain now stood by the major, while Morgan after a smile at Mark seated himself upon the cabin table to watch for an attack from the sky-light, toward which he held a loaded revolver.
A sharp report from Mr Gregory’s gun was followed by another yell, telling painfully enough that the Malays had been deceived in imagining that the whole of the little force would be defending the door, and that now was the time to cut the boat adrift.
The yell from the water was followed by a fierce one on deck, and the chopping and splintering of wood. The door was stoutly built, but those behind were very slight, and it was not long before the panels began to show gaps of splinters and jagged holes through which spears were thrust so suddenly that the men fell back, and the blows were redoubled.
“Ah! they are nasty weapons, my lads,” said the major coolly. “Serve them this way.”
As he spoke he watched his opportunity, waiting till a spear was darted in for some distance, when, catching it in his left hand, he pressed it aside, readied forward, and discharged his revolver right through the hole by which the spear had come.
The proof of the efficacy of this shot was shown by the major drawing in the spear and throwing it upon the deck, while his example was followed more or less by the men, who now sent shot after shot through the various holes made in the door.
“Don’t waste your fire, lads; don’t waste your fire,” cried the major; and his words were not without effect, as the slow delivery of shots, and the yells of pain and rage which followed many of the discharges, told.