Book Three—Chapter Ten.
“An Eye for an Eye, and a Tooth for a Tooth.”
With a yell that once more scared the sea-birds, and sent them screaming in terror across the waves, a yell that seemed to awaken the echoes in every rock and hill from end to end of the island, the savages sprang to their feet, and rushing towards the palisade, made their first fearful onset.
Not twenty yards away were they when they had given voice. So quickly, too, did they rush across the intervening ground, that scarce was there time to fire a rifle volley, far less to train the gun upon the spear-armed mass, before it was close alongside and had surrounded the stockade.
In their hundreds, these fearsome savages attempted to scale it; but their bodies were frightfully torn with the spikes, and cries of pain now mingled with those of anger. The defenders ran from one part of the stockade to another, firing from the loopholes; and so densely massed together was the foe that every bullet must have found a billet. In spite of all this, several managed to get over, but were immediately shot down with revolvers, or cut down with sword or cutlass.
Small though the loopholes were, spears were several times thrust through, and as each of them was poisoned, a single scratch would have resulted in the agonised death of the receiver.
Dark enough it was, and with nothing now but the stars to direct their aim, yet the little band fought well and determinedly, and at last the foe retired, leaving scores of their dead behind—drew off, dragging the wounded away.
At that black mass, just as it was nearing the woods, and while the rifles still played upon it, the breechloader, grape-loaded, was trained and fired.