"Yes they can, if they make loopholes," replied Ferrier. "Set 'em to cut some; we were idiots not to do it before."
The rafts were still about eighty yards from the island. Their course was checked while the men hastily cut loopholes in the breastwork on each side, at which they posted themselves with their weapons; then the white men drove the rafts forward as swiftly as the shallow water permitted. The enemy had again totally disappeared. But just as Ferrier's raft entered the channel between the island and the bank, there was a shout, and a boom of logs was drawn rapidly across, completely blocking the passage. The sound of chopping was explained.
The moment he saw the obstruction, Ferrier strove to increase the speed of the raft, in the hope of breaking through. There was a jolt and a crash, but the boom held, and instantly with ferocious yells the enemy on both sides let fly a shower of arrows mingled with a few rifle-shots at the occupants of the raft. These, kneeling at the breastworks, replied as well as they could through the loopholes; but they suffered two disadvantages: while they were exposed to the missiles of the enemy behind them, and on a higher level, the enemy themselves were concealed among the trees and brushwood. Cries of pain proclaimed that several had been hit, and Ferrier, turning for a moment to seize his rifle, received an arrow in his right shoulder. In an instant he wrenched it out: there was no time to think of wounds.
Meanwhile John had poled his raft somewhat to the left of the other, to try in his turn to break through the boom. Like Ferrier, he failed. The rafts were now ranged alongside, and John's men became exposed to the deadly hail from the island.
"We must either cut the boom or run for it," he said, gaining what shelter he could from the breastwork.
"Impossible!" returned Ferrier. "We've no axes. Knives are no good. The logs are three deep. Any one who tried to cut the lashings would be killed, to a certainty."
"I'll try and rush the island, then. You keep the others at bay."
"I'll do my best."
John ordered his men to lie down, and rapidly explained to them what he meant to do. Then, with a few vigorous thrusts of his pole, he drove the raft against the bank. As it touched, a bullet passed through his helmet. He dropped his pole, seized a rifle with his left hand and a revolver with his right, and calling to the men, leapt over the breastwork on to the island. The men followed him with a yell, all but Said Mohammed, whom he had ordered to remain and prevent the raft from drifting away.
As they swarmed up the bank, they were met by a shower of missiles. Two or three men fell; an arrow grazed John's cheek; but the suddenness of the attack had taken the enemy by surprise. Those who had rifles had no time to reload before their assailants were among them. Discharging his revolver at the nearest man, John dashed straight forward, smiting left and right with his clubbed rifle, the men hacking with their knives and jabbing with their spears. The enemy had thought rather of obtaining good cover from which to attack than of sustaining a hand-to-hand fight. John's men, emboldened by his example, followed close upon his heels. For a few moments a fierce scrimmage raged among the trees. Then the enemy gave way, turned tail, and, rushing across the narrow island, splashed through the shallow water that separated it from the next. Here they stood and faced about, as if to show fight again; but when they saw John and his little band springing after them they lost heart and fled, racing over the second island and the channel dividing it from the left bank of the river, and never halting until they gained firm ground a hundred yards away.