“Pretty soon Amos Jones came on deck again.
“‘I have it,’ said he. ‘Here’s th’ thing,’ an’ he held up a bottle filled full av bullets an’ nails. ‘Stave me, but this is good ammunition; ’twill fit to a T.’ An’ sure enough it did. It fitted th’ bore av th’ little guns exactly. A most uncommon bad thing to have hove at ye close up.
“Th’ fog held an’ at night it was blacker than th’ inside av th’ galley stove-pipe. We had begun to laugh at th’ skipper, but he said nothing, except that we’d see something before morning or else he’d put me in irons fer the biggest liar afloat. I was tired that night, but I kept awake an’ was leaning on th’ port rail about midnight. Suddenly I heard a rippling in th’ calm ocean off th’ port beam. I passed th’ whurd an’ we lay waiting, Amos standing at th’ lanyard av th’ port gun.
“All av a suddin we saw thim. Two junks right alongside jammed to th’ rail with pigtails.
“‘Turn her loose!’ bawled th’ owld man, an’ Amos let her go slap into thim. That bottle burst close aboard, fer ye never heard sich yelling. Thin they ranged alongside an’ was fast to us, an’ they swarmed over th’ rail like so many rats.
“Well, there was bloody murder aboard us fer half an hour. ’Twas a nasty fight an’ things looked bad at wan time. But Amos trained a culverin down th’ main-deck an’ gave thim ground glass, bullets, an’ lug-bolts to th’ quane’s taste.
“Thin we cleared up th’ mess an’ they let go. But Amos had got it bad.
“A big pigtail had hit him a chip in th’ thick av his leg, an’ he was bleeding fer further orders.
“There we were, two days’ sail from Hong-Kong, an’ no doctur aboard.
“We tied him up th’ best we could an’ drew th’ hooker with th’ quarter-boats ranged ahead. Finally th’ air come an’ we went along.