For now that the attack had ceased and the pirates’ fiery missiles had left off making his nerves quiver at the prospect of the fire gaining the mastery and driving them out of their stronghold, the lad felt anything but bloodthirsty; while he thought that if this leader, who seemed now to be the most prominent of all, were disabled, his followers might set the example of taking to flight.
“Look here,” said the lad suddenly; “I think I could hit that man from here.”
“Of course you could, sir,” cried his lieutenant eagerly. “I saw how you were firing at first and never seemed to miss. Will you have a try?”
Stan made no reply, but stood fingering his rifle for a few moments before, to the great delight of the party of defenders, he sank down on one knee, resting the barrel of his piece upon a bale, and then waited and watched the Chinaman who was haranguing his men wildly as he stood just at the edge of the wharf, now and then raising his arms as he pointed again and again at the great store.
As he finished there was a tremendous shout, and every man of the crowd of listeners began to wave his spear or sword.
Just then the crowd opened out as if to form in two parties for a rush at the warehouse, leaving their leader standing out quite clear, his tall, commanding figure looking huge in the sunshine.
“Here they come! Look out!” arose from within, and the whole body were in motion, when—
Crack!
The sharp report of Stan’s rifle was heard, followed by the floating up of a puff of grey smoke, and the sound seemed to act like magic, for the attacking party stood fast, staring in amazement at their chief, whose legs suddenly doubled up beneath him, and he fell back into the arms of two men who rushed forward to his help.
“Good shot!” cried several of the defenders.