While this episode was being acted, the Malays were still fighting desperately with their creases, a formidable weapon in the hands of men fighting for their lives; and many of the tars were wounded, and one or two killed. The Malays stood in a group at bay, and fought on desperately, like rats driven into a corner, their numbers being still but little inferior to those of their opponents. At this moment the woolly head of Snowball appeared above the fore-hold with a triumphant grin on his black face, all wet with perspiration; and in a second he leaped on the deck, carrying on his shoulder the body of the serang, who was knocked senseless by the tumble into the hold, although the darky’s head, accustomed to such rude shocks, was not one whit the worse. Laying down his burden he hurried to the caboose.
The remaining Malays were huddled up in a corner by the capstan, hemmed in by the bluejackets. To all cries of “surrender” they turned a deaf ear, and they were evidently trying to prolong the struggle until their piratical accomplices, as they no doubt were, in the schooner came up to help them.
Lieutenant Meredith, being a humane man, did not wish to slaughter the wretches like sheep, so refrained giving the fatal order to fire another volley, which would have terminated the contest, and was endeavouring to capture them alive. The struggle was so prolonged, however, and so many of his men were wounded, that he was just going to give the word “Fire!” when Snowball came to the rescue in a novel way, which completed the victory.
The darky emerged from the caboose with a bucket of boiling water filled from the galley coppers, which he had got ready with apt forethought, and dashed it full on to the group of huddling Malays.
They did not want a second dose.
Giving out an appalling howl of pain, which no cut or shot had evoked, they threw down their arms with one accord, and the blue-jackets before, and Bill Musters and Jem Backstay in the rear, seized the trembling scoundrels.
“Gag them all, as well as bind them, men!” said the lieutenant to the blue-jackets. “I don’t want them to give the alarm to the schooner. Look alive, men! Be smart there; we’ve no time to lose! She isn’t half a mile off now, and will be alongside in a few minutes!”
Lieutenant Meredith was right.
It was almost a dead calm, and the Hankow Lin,—her way deadened by the jib, which still trailed in the water across her bows, for no one had time, during the deadly fight in which they had just been engaged, to hoist it clear on board again—was almost motionless on the water; while every breath of the fast-expiring breeze was gently wafting the pirate schooner nearer and nearer.
The sail that obstructed her motion was at last cut away, and the ship began to creep along through the water; but it was too late for her to have got away from her enemy if those on board had so wished—which, however, they didn’t!