At length, quite suddenly it seemed to us, they were all fighting. How the quarrel first started it was impossible to discern; but it had not been in progress more than a few seconds when all the band were engaged in the conflict. In terror I crouched in the corner of the rock farthest removed from this scene of strife, expecting momentarily to receive some injury from this outburst of unreasoning fury. With clenched fists, and with logs of wood snatched from the ground, the maniacs struck at each other, or grappling fell, and were trodden on and stumbled over by the other combatants. Rodwood, fighting like an enraged lion, and striking out indiscriminately right and left, felled several antagonists, and was ultimately the means of putting an end to the mêlée, but not before one man had received some severe injury from a kick in the stomach, and another had been horribly burned about the face from falling, half stunned, into the fire. The groans of these wretches now mingled with the maudlin peacemaking of the other members of the band, as they rubbed their bruises and gathered once more round the brandy keg.
The fading light of the short winter day was deepening into darkness as the horrid scene continued.
"Hark'ee!" cried Rodwood, suddenly dashing the pewter cup to the ground: "I've no mind to spend another night in this foxes' burrow. Let us go back to the little port yonder and say we're what's left of a shipwrecked crew. I'll be bound good beds enough would be offered to such jolly mariners!"
A babel of voices followed this proposal. Some men were in favour, while others, perhaps a trifle more sober, were against the move.
"I'd like to see you pass yourselves off as sailor men," shouted Lewis with a wild laugh. "Besides, who's going to get the boat out with this swell on? She'll be bottom up before she's ten yards beyond the opening."
A fresh outburst of drunken argument drowned his further remarks, and it soon became evident that the more reckless spirits had carried the day. The remaining keg of brandy was handed down into the boat, and the men prepared to follow, the first to move falling under the thwarts, where he lay yelling that his arm was broken, while his comrades staggered over his prostrate form.
George Woodley and I rushed forward. Whatever the risk of the voyage might be, it was preferable to being left behind. But as we approached the group of men who were gathered at the head of the flight of rough steps, Rodwood waved us back.
"No room for you!" he cried with an oath. "No strangers or informers come with us now; we've got enough to do to save our own necks."
"Quite right, captain!" added another drunken scoundrel. "Why did they come with us at all? Let them bide there till they're fetched."
"For mercy's sake don't leave us here!" cried George. But a blow in the face, which sent him staggering backwards, was the only response. The blind man and the fellows who had been injured in the fight were handed down into the boat. One groaned heavily as he was moved, his complaints rising at last to a shriek which made my blood curdle.