“Give way, men!” I shouted. “Dash at her and get alongside before they have time to load again. The other boats will be here to support us in a moment.”
The men required no second bidding, but, bending to their oars until the stout ash bent like fishing-rods and the water flashed from the blades in luminous foam, they sent the boat like an arrow in under the main chains, dropping their oars and seizing their cutlasses as we sheered alongside, and springing like grey-hounds slipped from the leash at the craft’s low bulwarks.
But we had been reckoning without our hosts. Instead of finding the crew all below comfortably asleep in their hammocks, there they were at quarters, with guns loaded and run out, boarding-nettings triced up, and in fact everything ready to repel an attack, and it was only our extremely cautious approach which had saved us from a broadside or two of grape. Our people cut and slashed at the netting in a vain attempt to hew a passage through it, and were either shot down or thrust back with boarding-pikes; those who attempted to creep in at the ports receiving similar treatment. And all the time the small-arm men were playing briskly upon us with their muskets; so that at the end of five minutes I found myself with all hands beaten back into the boat, and every one of us, fore and aft, suffering from wounds more or less severe.
“Come, lads!” I exclaimed; “take another slap at them; we must get on deck somehow. You Jones, give me a hoist up on your shoulders; I think I can see a hole in the netting; here—a foot farther aft—so, that’s well. Now, heave.”
And up I went, clear above the craft’s gunwale and neatly in through the hole which I had espied. I should have fallen on the deck on my head, and probably dislocated my neck had not a brawny Spaniard happened to be immediately beneath me. Taken by surprise at my abrupt appearance, he had not time to get out of my way or even to strike at me, and before he could recover himself my pistol was at his temple and he staggered backward, shot through the head. In his fall, he forced back two or three of those nearest him, creating a momentary confusion. One of the gigs was at that instant struggling to get in through the open port near me, and I bent down, seized him by the collar, and lugged him in on deck, recovering myself just in time to ward off a savage cutlass-blow.
Jones—who happened to be the man I had dragged inboard—was on his feet in an instant, and, placing himself alongside me, we both pressed a little forward, so as to leave room for the rest of the gigs to follow by the same entrance while we covered them.
At the same moment a ringing cheer was heard forward; there was a rush of many feet, and Flinn with his party poured aft, having come quietly in over the bows while the crew were engaged with us aft.
“Launches to the rescue!” he shouted; “Hurroo, me bhoys! lay it on thick and heavy. Don’t give them time to recover themselves; if the naygurs won’t go below or throw down their arrums, just haive them overboard.”
The onslaught of the three other boats’ crews—which, having stolen quietly up in the confusion and slipped in over the bows without molestation, were perfectly fresh—was irresistible. The brigantine’s crew were forced in a body right aft to the taffrail, when, to avoid being cut down where they stood, or driven overboard, they threw down their arms and begged for quarter.
Lights were procured; the prisoners were passed below and secured; and we then had time to turn our attention to the other craft. Where was she? During the skirmish I had caught a momentary glimpse of her at about a cable’s length on our port beam through the glancing of the pistol-flashes on her spars and rigging, but now she was nowhere to be seen.