Five Russians were climbing the starboard shrouds, each with a knife in hand. Each glared down at the man on the after hatch and then resumed climbing.
Stirling leaned farther out, steadied his revolver, sighted it in the half light, and blazed the night with a cone of leaping fire. He fired for a second time. One Russian let go his knife, spun on the ratlines, and dropped like a plummet to the deck below. The others hurried from their exposed position and crouched under the Jacob's ladder where a jack offered some shelter. Stirling waited for an open sight at these two.
The man near the hatch shouted an order. The two invaders grasped lines and slid to the deck. They landed clumsily and staggered for the gloom of the whaleboats. Stirling replaced his revolver in his pocket and sank back into the crow's-nest. The attack had steadied his nerves, and he felt secure for some time to come.
Dawn mantled the sky above the dark cliff's edge; a plume of flamingo red shot to the zenith, and the sun was peering over the Siberian tableland. It would not be long before the harbour would be illuminated sufficiently to reveal the state of chaos on the deck of the Pole Star.
The higher peaks of the mountains grew rosy and white. The light came on and down with pale shadowings, revealing the surface of the sea in ghastly detail. Seamen and Russians floated about like dead seals.
The deck was a shambles where Marr's lead had scattered the Russian horde. A hastily erected barricade at the after hatch prevented the little skipper from sweeping the entire deck. Behind this barricade the Russians crouched, and forward by the forecastle they swarmed in great numbers, having broken into the stores.
The men were crunching on ship's biscuits and drinking from square faces of gin.
[CHAPTER XXIII—OVER THE STERN]
From his lofty perch Stirling tried to count the number of revolutionists, and had reached two hundred and ten before he stopped counting. Others were ashore. A whaleboat had been lowered and paddled under the shelter of the ship to the beach. It returned with crude weapons and a ragged crew who could not swim, and they added their shouting to the turmoil as they fell upon the ship's stores and gin.
"Nice party," said Stirling. "I wonder how I'll get out of this."