GRINSON LET OUT A BELLOW LIKE THE BLAST OF A FOG-HORN, AND SPRANG FROM THE TREES, FOLLOWED BY A HORDE OF NATIVES.
Grinson had made straight for Hahn, hurled one of his spears at him, which missed, and coming to close quarters, lunged at him with the other. But as he reached forward, a bullet from one of the snipers who had not yet been dislodged from his tree struck the boatswain on the arm. He spun round and fell on his face, just as Trentham, with Meek and a score of natives, came rushing out at the gate. Hahn had raised his revolver to shoot the fallen seaman, but catching sight of Trentham, he snapped an ill-aimed shot at him, then took to his heels and followed his men into the forest.
Trentham dispatched Lafoa to recall the natives, fearing that the Germans would rally and outmatch them in a running fight; then he returned to Grinson, who had sat up, and was trying to pull off his coat.
'Just a tickler, sir,' said the boatswain, grinning. 'I 'd a sort of feeling that I 'd be wounded in the house of my friends, as you may say, them being Bible words and all correct. Easy all! That's off. My goose is all right, praise be! Missed it by an inch, your lucky shot did, sir.'
'My shot? I didn't fire.'
'I 'm sure I beg your pardon, and won't say no more about it, though I 'd a notion you fired at Trousers and missed. This 'ere scratch won't spoil my beauty sleep, anyway. Mr. Hoole, sir? He got off like a bird, not but what they didn't have a go at him; the Raider, sir--most unfortunate, she come up just as we was getting ready for the kick-off, as you may say. The old wreck's blown to blazes, but no more harm done, and I lay Mr. Hoole by this time have got somewhere, though where that may be remains to be seen.'
'Thankful I am as you 're not killed, Mr. Grinson,' said Meek, who had come up from behind.
'Same to you, Ephraim, me lad. The only fly in my gizzard is that Trousers has got off; but we 'll dust him yet, Ephraim. No, I don't want no help; I 'm sound on my pins, and my arm don't hurt so bad as vaccination. What I would like is a pint o' beer, but I might as well cry for the moon. Things is a great puzzle, Ephraim!'
CHAPTER XVIII