Flanso leading, they wormed their way stealthily through the forest growth. The sounds of conflict grew as they progressed. Presently they were conscious of the smell of burning, and thin trails of smoke were wafted among the trees. Coming to the outskirts of the village, they beheld several huts blazing. At first they saw no human being, but advancing cautiously through the thick bushes that spread behind the huts, they came upon a Papuan squatting on the ground and rocking himself with pain. A question from Flanso elicited an account of what had happened. An hour or two before, the outlying scouts had discovered a number of white men marching towards the village. They had hastened back with the news, and the white men in the village had ordered all the people to withdraw into the inner enclosure. The enemy had come upon them before they were all within the wall. Some of the people had been killed, some wounded, others had escaped into the forest. The huts had been fired, and the enemy had rushed towards the gate, but had hurriedly retreated before a shower of arrows and the fire-magic that met them. They had posted themselves among the trees, and a little while before had begun to shoot their hot stones over the wall.
Lafoa interpreted this as well as he could to Grinson, who, however, seemed to understand the position instinctively. He bade Lafoa hasten back to the men halting in the forest a quarter of a mile behind, and bring up all the young warriors. While the man was absent Grinson sat down at the foot of a tree, stretched out his legs, folded his arms, and pondered. There had not been time for the Raider to reach the cove and land her crew, therefore the attackers must be relatively few in number. They were armed with rifles; probably the rifles had bayonets; therefore, though few in number, they were much more than a match for a throng of untrained savages with no better weapons than bows and arrows and spears.
'Which I mean to say,' said Grinson to himself, 'that is if we don't come to close quarters, whereas and however 'tis numbers what tells in a rush, such as boarding a vessel when you 're close alongside and Admiral Nelson piped all hands to repel boarders--or t'other way about, for 'twas us what boarded the enemy, must 'a been, being British. That's one point settled, Flanso, old man; we 've got to board 'em, take 'em abaft, otherwise about the rump or stern, and lively too, not forgetting that Mr. Trentham is for'ard banging away with his revolver, and we stand a good chance of being bowled over in mistake, and apologies are no use, and it's our look-out, and no blame to anybody. Now I come to think of it, that point's fust and last, for if we rush 'em and don't win, why, then nothing matters no more, and we 're all booked for the pearly gates and no mistake. Things are getting pretty hot by the sound of it, and I 'm afraid that there revolver have give out, and--ah! here come the boarding party.'
Lafoa stole through the brushwood followed by twenty or thirty young men of the higher caste, all moving as silently as wild animals.
'Tell 'em to lay snug--otherwise doggo--while you and me and the chief go for'ard and do a bit of spying,' said Grinson.
He crept forward with the two men, and came presently to a spot among the trees where it was possible to get a fairly clear view of the fighting. A number of Germans were laying piles of brushwood at the foot of the wall; others were breaking holes in it, or enlarging slight gaps between the logs; others were bringing up more brushwood from the forest, while reports and flashes high up in some trees overlooking one side of the enclosure showed that snipers had been posted to pick off the garrison. For the moment none of the defenders were visible. Grinson guessed that Trentham, having exhausted or all but exhausted his ammunition, was reserving himself for the inrush which without firearms it was impossible to prevent.
'There 's Trousers!' thought Grinson, catching sight of Hahn, who appeared to be superintending operations. 'If I don't give him a dusting----'
He stole back to the waiting natives, whispering instructions to Lafoa on the way. Half a dozen men were told off to creep through the bush and deal with the snipers in the trees, Grinson judging that in the dense undergrowth a native with a bow and a spear should be a match for a white man in a tree, even though armed with a rifle. The rest of the men were ordered to follow him noiselessly to the edge of the clearing in front of the wall, and to dash at the enemy when he gave the word. The slight sounds of their movements were smothered by the reports of the rifles and the hacking at the wall.
On reaching the spot, Grinson perceived that the Germans were massing for a determined push. At the sound of Hahn's whistle they sprang on to the piles of brushwood and attempted to swarm up and over the wall. Grinson could just see Trentham above the top, swinging a huge native club. While he was looking, the pendulum swing of the weapon disposed of two Germans who had come within its formidable sweep. To right and left, however, several of the enemy had got a footing on the wall, in spite of the spears hurled by the older and weaker natives who alone had remained in the village.
Then Grinson let out a bellow like the blast of a fog-horn, and sprang from the shelter of the trees with a spear in each hand, followed by the horde of natives, yelling and screeching. The Germans turned in alarm to discover what was threatening them, dropped to their knees, and raised their rifles. Only a few of them fired; the rest, disconcerted by the shower of arrows and spears which the natives let fly at them as they ran, dropped their rifles and fled helter-skelter among the trees, Flanso leading his men in hot pursuit.