He had got two of the pirates in line, and both went down with a yell; at the same instant there swelled up a wild war-whoop, and the tall figure of Red Hugh appeared in the moonlight. As his yell shrilled high, he fired into the group of men; instead of breaking before him, they closed on him instantly. Red Hugh's prediction was proving terribly false, Norton thought swiftly.
Somewhere the cold terrible voice of Duval was directing the attack. Norton had no more chance to reload. Other dark figures came running forward, and a moment later Red Hugh on the fore-deck and Norton in the bow were surrounded by a whirl of fighting men.
For a little, Norton almost believed that they would clear the ship unaided. Both were fighting with clubbed rifles, and the long six-foot guns made terrific weapons for such close work. The pirates must have emptied their own guns, for they fired no more shots, and there was no chance to reload; the battle had become hand to hand, savage in its brutality.
Twice Norton swept his gun-butt down full upon a man, and each time the pirate went down like an axed ox with his skull crushed; the Louisianian was now fighting for his life, and realized it thoroughly. A tomahawk struck him and fell to the deck with a clang, thrown unskilfully; Norton leaped forward and whirled his rifle on the thrower with all his strength.
As he did so, his foot slipped and he half-fell; the rifle came down on a hogshead and shattered in his hands. With one savage yell of exultation, the enemy closed in upon him.
Then, out of the turmoil of blows and shouts and curses, rose the clear laugh of Norton as his foes drew back. He was on one knee, pressed against the bulwark, but he held knife and tomahawk in hand, and somewhere ir the press before him he had caught sight of Duval. The man's face goaded him, and while his foes drew back a pace, Norton laughed again and leaped into the midst of them, striking savagely.
His weapons flashed and bit in the moonlight, and with a thrill he heard the war-whoop of Red Hugh rising again. His assailants were all masked save for Duval, whom he had not seen again; the next instant, however, he caught sight of Grigg coming at him.
There was no mistaking the man's size and figure, despite his mask and the black paint which covered his face and clotted his beard. From one side a clubbed rifle swung down on Norton; he warded it off, and seeing that the man was one of the treacherous crew-members, flung out his tomahawk. The keen edge bit into the man's brain and he went down. Then Grigg was leaping out.
Whirling, Norton ducked the knife-thrust. There was no chance to use his own weapon, and as he swung around he brought up his fist, closed on the knife-haft, and drove it straight into Grigg's beard. All Norton's weight was behind the blow, and the big man went down with a single groan, caught full on the point of the chin and knocked senseless.
In the same moment, Norton realized that all was lost. A wild yell of triumph had quavered up, and now a solid mass of men came charging down on him. Red Hugh had been overcome at last. Then, as Norton drew back and faced the snarling ring of savage masks and weapons, the uproar quieted with unexpected suddenness to the cold voice of Duval.