“Ah!” said the major, coolly reloading, “now I could pick off the steersman, or that chap with the red handkerchief; but it would do no real good. We’ve scared them off, and that’s good work.”
“Splendid, major. Why, that rifle is a little treasure.”
“Well, yes,” said the major, patting it; “but it was meant for tiger and leopard, Gregory, not to kill men.”
“You may make yourself easy,” said the first-mate quietly; “these are savage beasts more than men. It is life for life.”
“Ah! that’s comforting, Gregory, and I take it as kindly of you, for I’m not fond of this sort of work, though I say I am. Well, let’s see how they are getting on yonder.”
He went out of the cabin, leaving the first-mate to resume his watch over the boat, for during the time this episode of rifle practice was in progress another furious attack had been made upon the barricaded door. Spears had been thrust and darted through, blows struck through cracks and holes with krises and the deadly sword-like parang, and in spite of the fierce and slowly-sustained fire kept up, the defences were rapidly becoming more dilapidated, and several fresh wounds had been received.
But the determination of the men had not failed for a moment, while just at the worst time a change was made for the better by the fresh force put into the defence by Small and Mr Morgan.
The attack through the sky-lights had not been renewed, and, weary with sitting and watching through the films of blue smoke which filled the cabin their captain and the men so sorely pressed, these two suddenly dashed into the fray, each going to a hole and firing rapidly.
This checked the Malays for the time, but they came on again, and when the major joined in with a couple of shots from his little rifle the fight was still furiously raging.
Suddenly, however, just as the barriers were giving way, and every opening seemed to bristle with spears, there was a terrible shout, and the attack ceased.