“The lazarette,” he gasped; “it’s our only chance. Bring some muskets and ammunition. We can make a stand there.”
Grasping an armful of the discharged weapons, I led the way through a small door in the after-bulkhead, as heavy blows crashed upon the door of the forward cabin. Jones followed with an armful of cartridges and a priming-flask, Ernest leaning heavily upon him. Then I hesitated.
“Put out the light. Let ’em think we’re waitin’ in the dark,” said the big sailor.
I turned back and took the lamp out of the bracket. It would serve to light the black hole we were entering, for Hicks had taken no lantern with him, being hardly able to walk, with weakness from wounds and exertion.
Jones went ahead with Ernest, and I looked quickly about the cabin for some means of preventing entrance through the small, low door into the stern of the boat. Nothing appeared handy, and I turned to follow.
At that same instant the attack upon the companion was resumed and the doors crashed in, letting several black forms come plunging down the steps.
There was no time to lose, so, quickly entering the hole, I closed it and set the lamp close by on the deck, where its dim rays would light the entrance when the door would be burst in. The bulkhead was not very thick, and it would take very few minutes to smash the small door, but, as the passage was only about three feet wide, two able men with muskets and cutlasses could make it good from the inside, for no matter what the press beyond, the Africans would have to come in twos and threes through the opening. They would not think to cut a new way through, and, as long as they came in front, we could pile them up as fast as they could pull the dead and disabled away.
Jones had disappeared into the blackness farther aft under the cockpit as I entered, but the sound of the yelling blacks entering the cabin brought him back to my side, and I motioned him to stand to starboard, while I took the port side, our cutlass blades a little more than overlapping as we held them ready for the rush.
On all sides the ship’s stores were piled and stored close up under the low deck. Spare canvas rolled and stopped in long bundles lined the passageway, placed near at hand that in case of emergency they could be brought out quickly and bent to stripped spars. We stood perfectly quiet, while the din below increased, but, as the savages had no light, they could not, at first, find the small door in the after-bulkhead.
While we waited, Hicks appeared, stooping and coming along under the low beams. He had a musket in each hand which he had loaded, and when he saw us he stopped. Laying down the guns, he began pulling at an old topsail, and Jones, seeing what he wanted, hastened to help. Together they rolled and dragged the canvas to the door, piling it up to close the opening as much as possible, and at the same time serve as a breastwork. Suddenly a savage voice howled close against the bulkhead, and instantly a rain of tremendous blows fell upon the door. It splintered, broke, and was torn away in an instant. Then the black bodies crowded in.