I was in a perfect fever of impatience to get additional light, though it were ever so little, and had about made up my mind to open fire with the Maxims without further delay, for the approaching craft were by this time perilously close—not more than two cables’ lengths distant, I believe—when I caught a faint flicker of light from aloft, and the next instant the baleful, blue-white glare of a portfire illuminated the scene and revealed ten small sailing craft foaming down upon us under the impulse of from twelve to sixteen powerfully-manned sweeps apiece. Each craft carried a gun, which looked to be about the calibre of a twelve-pound smooth-bore, mounted in the eyes of her; their decks were crowded with Malays of most ferocious, malignant, and determined aspect, and I caught the gleam and flash of the light from innumerable krisses and rifle barrels as their owners waved them above their heads in savage anticipation of presently getting to close-quarters with us.
It was evident that we were confronted with a most formidable and dangerous situation, demanding the utmost promptitude of action, and I at once turned to the crew of the port Maxim, with the command upon my lips to them to open fire, when a cry of horror arose from the gun’s crew on the main-deck immediately below where I was standing, and a man, looking up to me and pointing with his hand, shouted that the mate was killed. Glancing down over the poop rail, I saw the body of poor Kennedy stretched out on the deck in the midst of a pool of blood, with the top of his head shot away, doubtless by the round shot that, a few seconds earlier, I had heard crash through the bulwarks.
“Let them have the contents of every gun that will bear!” I shouted. Then turning to the Maxim crews, I added: “Open fire upon them—the nearest craft first; and clear their decks of men, if you can, before they get alongside.”
The light was the only thing that our lads—and the pirates too, apparently—had been waiting for, for the next moment the guns of our port battery crashed forth, one after the other, while our port Maxim—the only one of the two that could be brought to bear—started its savage thud-thudding tattoo, and in less than half a minute the ship was enveloped in a cloud of acrid smoke which, hanging motionless in the stagnant air, effectually cloaked the approach of the attacking force, and as effectually prevented anything like accurate shooting.
Nor were the enemy one whit behindhand in availing themselves of the assistance afforded by the light of the portfires; indeed, they had rather the best of it, for although the hull of the yacht was speedily enveloped in smoke, the portfire brilliantly illuminated our canvas, and thus afforded them an excellent guide in aiming. And now the round shot began to fly thick and fast, while bullets and slugs hummed and sang about our ears like a swarm of angry hornets. Luckily for us, the aim of the pirates was atrociously bad—probably the fire of our Maxim disconcerted them—and although we afterward found that five round shot had passed through our sails, only one struck our hull, while, by what seemed like a miracle, the bullets all missed our bodies, though in many cases by only the merest hair’s-breadth. For perhaps half a minute the fire of the pirates was maintained with the utmost fury, and then all in a moment it died away to a few desultory shots, which presently ceased.
Putting my whistle to my lips, I blew a shrill blast upon it, which I followed up with the order:
“Main-deck guns, cease firing!” And as I uttered the words I thought I felt a faint draught of air upon my face. I was not mistaken, for at the same moment the heavy pall of smoke which enveloped us began lazily to shape itself into fantastic wreaths that slowly swept away to the westward, while our lighter canvas rustled gently, and then filled to a small air from the eastward. As it happened, our sails were correctly trimmed, so that all that was needed was just to allow the ship to come up to her proper course when she gathered way.
Meanwhile, with the dispersion of the smoke, we were able once more to get a glimpse of the enemy, and that glimpse revealed them to be in full flight. They must have suffered frightfully from our fire before their courage gave way, for of the ten craft which constituted the original attacking force only six were now visible, while every one of these appeared to be more or less in difficulties—three of them, indeed, very much more than less. I perceived that only one of the half-dozen appeared to be working her full complement of sweeps, while another was hobbling off under the impulse of but a single pair. Shells, though they be of but four-inches diameter, are capable of inflicting serious damage when they hit and explode.
The breeze, which at first came away as a mere breathing, gained steadily in strength, until the yacht was sliding along at a six-knot pace, and it would have been easy for us to have overtaken our audacious attackers and sunk them out of hand. But I had my doubts as to whether any of them would remain afloat long enough to get back to the small hidden harbour from which they had emerged; while in any case it seemed to me that the rascals had received so severe a punishment that it would be long before they again attempted to attack a seemingly helpless ship. I therefore allowed them to go their way without further molestation, and, boarding the fore and main tacks, brought the ship to her course. This done, I gave orders for the guns to be secured, the charges to be drawn, the unused ammunition to be returned to the magazine, and the small arms to the armourer, and the decks to be cleared up generally.
Meanwhile poor Kennedy’s body had been carried forward and laid upon the fore-hatch, covered over with a tarpaulin. Poor chap! I was sincerely grieved at his loss, for he was both a first-rate seaman and a thoroughly stanch messmate. And as, passing round the deck to satisfy myself that all my orders had been satisfactorily executed, I paused for a moment to gaze regretfully at the shrouded form under the tarpaulin, I could not help wondering a little at the memory that he, the only victim, should have been the one to have experienced a premonition, practically amounting to certainty, not only of the encounter, but also, as I now felt convinced, that it would prove fatal to him.