Even to tragedy there is always a ridiculous side or aspect, and on the present occasion this was afforded by the strange behaviour of Bob and the Admiral during the terrible mêlée. It is not to be supposed that Bob would be far away from his master when danger threatened him.
Seeing Ransey Tansey, rifle in hand, follow his father to join in repelling the mutineers, it occurred to him at once that two might be of some assistance. It did not take the faithful tyke a moment to make up his mind, but he thought he might be of more use behind the mutineers than in front of them. So he outflanked the whole fighting party, and the attack he made upon the rear of Durdley’s following was very effective.
The ’Ral could not fight, it is true, but his excitement during the battle was extreme. Round and round the deck he ran or flew, with his head and neck straight out in front of him, and his screams of terror and anger added considerably to the clamour and din going on forward. The poor bird really seemed to know that men were being killed, and seeing his master engaged, he would fain have helped him had he been able.
Of the ten men then who had mutinied three were wounded, including the ringleader, two were dead, and the remaining five were now taken on deck and roped securely alongside the winch to await their sentence. The deck was quickly cleared of the dead, and all evidences of the recent struggle were removed.
Durdley resembled nothing more nearly than a captured bird of prey. He was stern, silent, grim, and vindictive. Had he not been utterly prostrate and powerless, he would have sprung like a catamount at the throats of the very men who were dressing his wounds, and these were Tandy and Halcott himself.
Yet it was evident that he was not receiving the treatment he had expected, nor that which he would have dealt out to Halcott had he fallen into his hands.
“Why don’t you throw me overboard?” he growled at last, with a fearful oath. “Sharks are the best surgeons; their work is soon over. I’d have served you so, if my lily-livered scoundrels had only fought a trifle better, hang them!
“Ay, and you too, Mr Tandy, with your solemn face, if you hadn’t consented to take us straight to land!”
“Keep your mind easy,” said Halcott, quietly. “I’ll get rid of you as soon as possible, you may be well sure.”
“Do your worst—I defy you. But if that worst isn’t death, I’ll bide my time. I’d rather die three times over than lie here like a half-stuck pig.”