With Drake on the Spanish Main

by Herbert Strang

The big Spaniard who had rushed first from the cabin and fired at the maroon found himself immediately afterwards engaged with a lithe young man who, though clad in a Spanish doublet, was certainly not a fellow-countryman of his. Instinctively, as it seemed, captain singled out captain. Dennis made a vigorous cut at him, but the blade was fouled by the shrouds above his head, and the blow, losing half its force, was easily warded off by the Spaniard's machete. He sprang back; if his opponent had been a little nimbler Dennis would have been at his mercy; but the Spaniard was gross with idleness and good living; heavy of movement he failed to seize his advantage, though in the lunge his knife cut the lad's doublet, and gashed his sword arm in the recovery.

"Captain singled out Captain."

Dennis was scarcely conscious of his wound. At this fierce moment his practice on the deck of the Maid Marian served him well. To attempt a second cut would have been to give another opening. He shortened his arm and gave point. The Spaniard was no tyro. With a turn of the wrist he parried the thrust, which was aimed low, but could not prevent the blade from entering his shoulder. He staggered and reeled back towards the doorway of the cabin, and the two men immediately behind him rushed into the fight. Turnpenny meanwhile had been engaged in a similar duel, and by the sheer force of his bulk had borne his opponent to the deck. Side by side Dennis and he faced their new assailants. One of these, a long sinewy fellow, had an amazing dexterity with his knife, and a most perplexing nimbleness of movement. Dennis kept him at bay only by the length of his cutlass. For a few moments there was brisk work around the mast. Making a sweeping cut, Dennis somewhat overreached himself, and it would have gone ill with him had not Turnpenny, who had run a second man through, perceived his danger in the nick of time. Springing forward, he pierced the fellow to the heart.

Three of the Spaniards had now fallen. The rest, who had barely held their own against the maroons, were stricken with fear when they saw their comrades' fate. Two of them sprang overboard; the remaining four, finding the three maroons now reinforced by the Englishmen, rushed back after their captain into the cabin, and, before they could be overtaken, slammed-to the door and shot the bolt. Dennis snatched up a belaying pin and brought it with all his force against the door, but made no impression on its stout timbers. There was a roar and a flash close to his ear; he felt his cheek singed; one of the Spaniards had fired through a loophole in the cabin wall. The moment after, there was another flash from a loophole on the other side, and one of the maroons uttered a cry of pain. In the open waist of the vessel the little party had no protection from musket fire; the loopholes had doubtless been pierced against the contingency of such an assault as this, and nothing but the darkness could prevent the Spaniards in the cabin from bringing down a man at every discharge. They had the whole armoury of the ship to draw upon; there was no means of checking their fire; and realizing the situation Dennis called on Turnpenny and the rest to seek cover. Some found shelter just forward of the mainmast; two swarmed on to the poop, and, climbing to the edge of its break, held themselves ready with their half-pikes to attack any one attempting a sortie from the cabin. Dennis and the sailor, picking up the calivers they had laid down when they boarded the vessel, dropped down behind a coil of rope towards the forecastle.

"My heart!" exclaimed Turnpenny, as he primed his weapon. "'Twas brisk work, and not the end neither."

"They are run to earth, Amos, 'tis true, got away like foxes. Our case is not too good. We are baulked, my friend."

"Ay, sir. With all the victuals and munitions abaft, the knaves have the better of us. We cannot get at them; say we made endeavour to scuttle the ship, they could shoot us afore we got away."

"And there are sick maroons in the forecastle, I bethink me you said. I would fain save them alive. We must do something to bring the knaves to an engagement. There are five of them now. With time to recover themselves somewhat, and fortify themselves with food, they can if it so please them lie low till morning light, then sally out upon us with arms loaded, several pistols apiece, and we, fasting, would be of a surety overmatched."