Away we both went, as fast as we could lay legs to the ground, Copplestone down-hill toward the river beach, and I along the sand spit, making upward gradually toward the ridge as I ran. Running in that fine, heavy sand was, however, horribly exhausting work, especially to one whose only mode of taking exercise was to stump the lee side of the quarter-deck during his watch, and I was soon so completely blown that, with the best will in the world to hurry, I was brought to walking pace. But before I had made twenty fathoms from my starting-point two more shots rang out from the party by the boats, and a moment later one of the boat guns began to speak. I looked out over the river, striving to discover what the disturbance was about, and thought I could dimly make out several dark blurs on the faintly shimmering surface of the water, which I conjectured must be canoes, but I could not be sure; meanwhile my business was not with them, whatever they were, but with Nugent and his party, from whom, as I struggled along, two more musket-shots cracked out almost simultaneously. Then, down by the river-side, a second shot roared from a boat gun, and this time before the ringing report of the piece died away I distinctly heard a crash followed by loud shrieks and much splashing out somewhere on the surface of the river. A few seconds later, panting and gasping for breath, I staggered up to a figure which I had made out standing upright and motionless on the crest of the spit, and found it to be Nugent, with his drawn sword tucked under his right arm while with both hands he held his night glass to his eye.
“Who goes there?” he demanded sharply, wheeling round and seizing his sword as he heard the noise of my panting behind him.
“Friend!” I answered. “The sk–—captain desires to know why you are firing, out here, and whether you require any assistance.”
“Oh! is that Fortescue? All right. Just take my night glass, will you, and sweep the face of the spit carefully at about two hundred yards distance from here. Then tell me if you can see anything,” answered Nugent. “And, if it comes to that, why are the others firing, down by the boats?”
“Can’t say for certain,” I answered, as I took the proffered night glass and raised it to my eye, “but I believe some suspicious canoes or boats have hove in sight, and they are just giving them a hint to keep their distance.”
“Ah! just so,” returned Nugent. “Now we are firing because, although we can’t be absolutely certain in this darkness, we think that there is a body of men out there who would be not altogether disinclined to rush the camp, if we gave them the opportunity; so we are just potting at them—or what we fancy to be them—whenever we get a clear enough sight of them, just as a hint that we are awake. But as to assistance—n–no, I don’t think we need any, at least not at present. Should we do so, later on, I will blow a blast on this whistle of mine.” And he produced from his pocket a whistle possessing a particularly shrill and piercing note, with which he had been wont to summon Cupid to the midshipmen’s berth aboard the Psyche, when that individual’s presence had been needed with especial urgency.
“Well, d’ye see anything?” he demanded, after I had been peering through his glass for a full minute or more.
“I am really not at all certain whether I do, or not,” I answered, still working away with the glass. “I thought, a moment or two ago, that I caught sight of something in motion for an instant, but it is so abominably dark, as you say, that—but stay a moment, what is that dark mass out there stretching across the ridge? I don’t remember having noticed anything there before nightfall.”
“Dark mass?” reiterated Nugent; “what dark mass d’ye mean? There is nothing out there, so far as I—”
“By Jingo! but there is, though, sir; I can see it myself now, wi’ the naked eye!” exclaimed a seaman who was crouching in a sand pit a yard or so distant from where Nugent and I were standing. “There, don’t ye see it, Mr Nugent, stretchin’ athwart the back of the spit? Why, I can make it out quite distinctly.”