Then, as the little fellow made off at top speed, the father added: “Thank God, his retreat is secured if we can hold out for ten minutes. Now, Henderson, true and trusty comrade, let us make a stand here and, shoulder to shoulder, show these rascals how Englishmen can fight.”
So, without another word, the two friends turned and stood at bay, finding time to bring down two more of their foes by a couple of lucky snap-shots before they were closed with.
And then began a battle, fierce and grim—sixteen Malays to two Englishmen! Luckily for the smaller party the Malays had, at the outset of the disturbance, emptied their pieces ineffectually, and had found no time to reload them, whilst Henderson had provided himself, in addition to the two repeating rifles, with a brace of loaded six-chambered revolvers, one of which he now handed to Gaunt. With these and their clubbed rifles the two men fought so desperately, that not only were the Malays effectually checked in their attempt at an outflanking movement, but actually foiled in their intention to bear down the two men by sheer force of numbers and brute strength. Swinging their rifles club-wise with one hand and firing their revolvers with the other whenever they saw a chance of making a shot tell, the Englishmen wrought such terrible execution that at length the Malays drew back confounded. At this moment a cheer was heard close at hand, and in another instant up dashed Manners and Nicholls, breathless with hard running, and placed themselves one on each side of their two countrymen.
“Now let us give them a volley!” cried Gaunt—who, his blood fairly boiling at the recollection of the past night, had been fighting like a demon—and, at the word, up went the four rifles to the “present.”
“Choose each his man!” ordered the inexorable engineer: and then out rang the four pieces, leaving three foes the less to deal with. Hark! what was that? Not an echo of the rifle-shots, surely; no, it was the boom of a distant gun, unless the ears of all strangely deceived them. Whatever it was, the Malays also heard the sound, and, looking for an instant in consternation at each other, wavered, turned, and fled.
“Hurrah!” cried Gaunt exultantly, “rescue is at hand. After the rascals, and give them a lesson they will never forget!”
It was, perhaps, an imprudent thing to do, but away after the flying foe went the four men, popping away with their revolvers, and so severely galling the Malays that sauve qui peut quickly became the word with the latter, who now evidently thought of nothing but how to reach their boats alive. One in his frantic haste stumbled and fell, revealing his features to Gaunt as he did so. It was the wretch who had so cruelly ill-treated little Percy on the night before. With a couple of bounds the engineer was upon him. Wresting the creese from the fellow’s hand, Gaunt seized him by the collar and dragged him along the ground, writhing, to a clump of canes growing close at hand. With his foot on the man’s neck to keep him down, the engineer then cut with the creese a stout, pliant cane, lifted the wretch to his feet by main strength, and, dropping his weapons to the ground and still retaining his grip upon the fellow’s collar, deliberately thrashed him until the cane was split to ribbons and the clothes literally cut from his back, finally dismissing him with a kick which—apart from the thrashing—it is safe to say, that Malay will never forget so long as his life shall last. The unfortunate wretch hobbled off with quite remarkable celerity—considering that every bone in his body must have been aching—eager to overtake his comrades, whose “way” had been very materially “freshened” not only by the heat with which they were pursued but also by the booming of the guns in the offing. But he was too late. When he reached the beach the boats had shoved off; so, rather than remain where he was, the fellow unhesitatingly plunged into the stream and swam off to the proa, reaching her just in time to be hauled up over the side as, with slipped cable and hastily-hoisted sail, the craft paid off and gathered way on her road out to sea.
Gaunt followed more leisurely, for, in common with his three friends, he had suffered somewhat in the mêlée—though, fortunately, none of them were seriously hurt—and he reached the cove just in time to witness the hasty departure of the proa. He seized this, the first opportunity which had presented itself, to heartily thank his companions for their gallant rescue of himself and his child, inquired anxiously after the safety and welfare of the little Lucille, and then said:
“I have been wondering what can be the meaning of that firing in the offing. I cannot help thinking it is intended as a signal of some kind to us, and, assuming that to be the case, I can only account for it upon the pleasant supposition that Captain Blyth, instead of perishing in the hurricane as we feared, must have in some miraculous manner escaped; and that it is he who is now outside, on board a rescue ship, come to take us all off the island. I think it would be well if you, Manners, were to take the punt, and, with Nicholls, go out as far as the harbour’s mouth to reconnoitre, taking care not to show yourselves until you are quite certain that the craft is a friendly one.”
The two men named eagerly adopted the suggestion, and a minute later were afloat and pulling rapidly down stream. As soon as they were fairly off Gaunt turned to Henderson and said: