Only a few seconds had passed since they had first caught sight of the steamer. Unarmed as they were, they meant to take a hand in behalf of Mr. Ting. Each seized a heavy spanner from their tool chest, and Burroughs, telling the engineer to tie the machine to the steamer's stern rail, shut off the engine and drove the hydroplane among the sampans, sinking two of them by the impact.
Then seizing the stern rail, the two lads drew themselves up, and vaulted on deck. There was no one at the wheel, but a crowd of struggling forms was to be seen scrambling up the narrow gangways to the bridge, where there or four men were striving desperately to force the assailants back. At a glance Errington saw that the men on the bridge were the officers and crew of the vessel, and shouting to Burroughs to take the port gangway, he himself made a dash towards the starboard one, and fell upon the rear of the crowd.
The darkness, the excitement, the noise of the fight, had prevented the attackers from discovering the approach of the hydroplane, so that the sudden onslaught of the two white men, wielding heavy iron tools with the vigour of sturdy youth, took them completely by surprise. Both Errington and Burroughs were very "fit" through much exercise, and three or four of the crowd at each gangway had gone down under their vigorous blows before those in front became aware of their danger. When they turned and found that their new opponents numbered only two, they rushed upon them with yells of rage. But they had now to reckon with the men on the bridge, who instantly took advantage of the diversion, and springing down the gangways, threw themselves upon what was now the rear of their assailants.
But for this rapid movement, the fight would have gone badly for the Englishmen. One or two pistols were snapped at them, and they had already received several gashes from the ugly knives of the pirates. But it was evident from what happened now that the men on the bridge had been husbanding their ammunition. Shots fell thick among the pirates huddled on the gangways and the deck adjacent. One slightly built Chinaman, his pigtail streaming behind him, flung himself down from the bridge towards the spot where Burroughs, half stunned by a blow from a burly ruffian, had been beaten to the deck. This little man carried a knife in each hand, and used these weapons with such demoniacal fury that in a second or two he cleared the space between him and the fallen Englishman.
The sudden turning of the tables took all the spirit out of the pirates, who, though they were still three to one, sprang overboard on both sides of the vessel, and swimming to their sampans, scuttled away like rats shoreward.
"A velly good fight," said Mr. Ting, wiping his knives and raising Burroughs from the deck. "No bones bloken?"
"It's nothing," said Burroughs. "I got a whack over the head that made me see stars. Jolly glad you came to the rescue, sir, or there wouldn't have been much left of me."
"Hai! I think it is all vice vessa. Without you and Pierce, where should I be? You got a whack, Pierce?"
"Oh, a baker's dozen or so, but I've had worse at rugger," said Errington coming up. "No: hang it! they've cut me, I see; we don't use knives in our scrums. What's it all about, Mr. Ting?"
"As you see, these pilate hogs attacked me. I was going back after doing a little business--plomised myself I would dine with you. But let us see who these pigs are."