Just as the mutineer had finished threatening Friday, something whizzed through the air in unpleasant proximity to his head. It was a potato, thrown by the dextrous hand of the chief, and was followed by more missiles of the same sort, which whistled over the breastwork in a continuous shower. Atkins dropped like a flash, and picking up a stone in each hand, cautiously raised his head to look for the enemy; but the instant the crown of his hat appeared above the breastwork, it became a mark for the watchful Crusoe men, who sent the potatoes about his ears so thick and fast that Atkins was glad to drop down again.
"Keep your eyes open, men," cried the governor, "an' fire at the first one who dares to show himself. Atkins, when you get ready to surrender, just sing out. That's all you've got to do."
The mutineers were as fairly captured as if they had been bound hand and foot. They could neither retreat nor defend themselves. A cracking and rustling among the branches above, told them that Friday was engaged in putting up the bridge; and they knew that unless they could dislodge him they would soon be at closer quarters with the enemy.
"I'll give you just a half a minute to get down out of that tree," exclaimed Atkins.
"We don't want to hurt you, but we aint goin' to let you put up that bridge," said Jack Spaniard.
The rustling among the branches ceased for a moment, and Friday peeped through the leaves at the mutineers, both of whom were lying flat on their backs behind the breastwork. Seeing at a glance that he had nothing to fear from them, he went on with his work.
Atkins and his companion, finding that threats were unavailing, began to bestir themselves. They made loop-holes through the breastwork, but could not see their besiegers. Sam had posted his men on the cliff, outside the circle of light made by the fire, and consequently they were invisible to the mutineers; while the latter had built their fort in the full glare of the fire-light, and every move they made could be distinctly seen. They could not even use the loop-holes after they made them; for the governor and his men were always on the watch, and threw their potatoes so swiftly and accurately that the rebels were obliged to keep themselves well sheltered. Friday was still busy among the branches of the tree, and, when he had finished the work of putting up the bridge, he also opened fire. His shot was followed by another shower from the men posted on the cliff, who expended their ammunition without stint, sending the potatoes over and around the breastwork so thickly, that Atkins and his companion were once more obliged to throw themselves flat upon the ground to escape being hit. Suddenly the firing ceased, and a dark object came flying over the chasm into the fort. It was the governor, who, the moment he landed on his feet, began operations by pouncing upon the mutineers, throwing an arm around the neck of each, and holding them fast. How much he could have done toward conquering them it is hard to tell. The rebels were both determined fellows, and when they had sufficiently recovered from their astonishment to see that Sam was alone, they began to struggle furiously. But help for the governor was near. When he let go the rope it swung back into the hands of Xury, who was waiting to receive it, and he, too, came sailing over the breastwork, and dropped down upon Jack Spaniard, who had succeeded in freeing himself from the chief's grasp, and was rising to his feet. Tom Newcombe followed close behind, and Friday brought up the rear. They came, one after the other, as rapidly as the rope could swing back and forth; and the rebels, finding themselves overpowered, began to beg for quarter.
"Avast, there!" cried Sam, and Friday's uplifted hand sank harmlessly to his side, instead of falling upon the unprotected face of the chief mutineer. "Let 'em up. I'll answer for their good behavior now."
The rebels were quite as much astonished at the governor's clemency as were the other members of the band. They arose slowly to their feet, and gazed about them with a bewildered, suspicious air, as if half expecting to receive a kick or blow from some unlooked-for source. Atkins, in particular, scarcely knew what to make of it. He surveyed the chief from head to foot, as if he were hardly prepared to believe that he was the same old ruler of the Crusoe band who had taught him so many lessons of obedience at their cave in the village. Sam stood for a few moments enjoying his surprise, when he suddenly became aware that Atkins's eyes were not fastened upon him, but that they appeared to be looking through him, at something on the other side of the chasm. A feeling of uneasiness crept over the chief, for he saw that the expression on the face of his man was changing from astonishment to alarm. "What is it?" he whispered, not daring to look around.
Atkins, in reply, slowly raised his hand until it was on a level with his shoulder, and pointed toward the bluff across the gully; and, at the same instant, the governor nearly jumped from the ground when he heard an ejaculation that had become familiar to him that night—