But Tom either could not or would not hear, as he tugged away at his oar, although Mr. Collier continued to shout and gesticulate.
"Stay where you are,' said Hayes; 'you need not come on deck. Now, look out, boys. I'll lay you alongside at the fore-chains. Avast pulling there for a bit, and take these.'
In a few moments each man had buckled on his cartridge pouch, thrust a tomahawk through his belt, loaded his carbine, and placed it in readiness beside him. Then once more they seized their oars, and as they dashed alongside, and the bow oarsman grasped the fore-chains, a chorus of savage yells sounded above, as the body of a white sailor was thrown over the side, to fall into the boat.
'Up you come!' roared Hayes to his boat's crew as, tomahawk in hand, he sprang up the chains and disappeared over the bulwarks, followed by the men, leaving Tom alone in the boat, gazing with horror-struck eyes at the ensanguined form lying across the midship thwart on which it had fallen. The sight was too much for him, though his courage quickly returned.
Seizing the painter, he hurriedly made it fast, then ran aft, picked up the remaining carbine, and with his heart thumping against his ribs clambered up after the others, and jumped down on deck, landing on the top of some dead natives lying between the bulwarks and the for'ard deckhouse.
For a moment or two he was dazed, not only at the sight of the awful carnage the decks presented, but with the din, and smoke, and yells, and curses that filled the air. The fore deck was covered with dead and dying savages, and the main filled with a swaying, surging mass of naked figures, half of whom were pressing towards the after deckhouse, to which the survivors of the crew had been driven, and the others surrounding the giant figure of Hayes and his boat's crew, who were hacking and hewing their way through them with their hatchets; for, after the first few shots, they had been unable to use their carbines again.
Hardly knowing what he was doing, Tom raised his Snider to his shoulder, and sent his first bullet into the packed mass before him. Then quickly jerking out the empty case, he slipped in another cartridge and fired again.
'That's good!' shouted a voice above him; 'jump up here, young feller, quick!'
Loosely coiled on top of the deckhouse was a huge coir hawser, and in the centre of it was the man who had called Tom. He was evidently wounded, for he was in a sitting position. Putting one foot through a port in the deckhouse, Tom clambered up, and took his place beside him.
'Quick! Lie down, and fire into 'em there on the starboard side,' said the wounded man; 'my arm is nearly broken, and I'm no good. Ah! that's it!' he cried, as Tom began firing steadily into a crowd of savages on the starboard side, who were so tightly jammed together that every shot did deadly work. 'Hurrah! the skipper's through into the house, and one man with him. Look out, young feller, they've seen us. I oughtn't to have brought you up here. Jump down again, and over the side, and swim round to the stern. Don't mind me, youngster, I'm done for. Even if I was all right, I can't swim.'