Down the stairs they noiselessly crept. At the bottom they could faintly hear voices—seemingly many of them—somewhere forward, or else on the next lower level. But they did not hesitate. The officer indicated the door of a compartment only a dozen feet away. They reached it and got inside.
The room had been converted, during this voyage, into a storeroom. Among its miscellaneous contents was a quantity of tear bombs—grenades that discharge a gas which makes the victim’s eyes water until he is temporarily blinded and helpless. To obtain all these missiles they could carry was the work of but a few seconds, after which the Americans dashed for the steps and started to the deck.
Just as they got halfway up, a couple of Chinamen appeared suddenly in the passage below and caught sight of them. The Celestials uttered loud warning cries and darted after the visitors.
Instantly Seaman Burns, who was behind, hurled one of the bombs to the floor at the foot of the ladder—and then another and another.
The sorcerers halted a moment, surprised by the missiles—and before they could resume their rush they were blinded by tears. Screaming in rage and dismay, they retreated down the passage toward the other voices that were beginning to respond to their cries.
With this, Burns ran on up to the deck.
“Stay here and hold this stairway!” ordered Hallock. “I’ll go forward to the other ladder! Don’t let any of them reach the deck!”
And the officer ran off.
He reached the forward companionway just as half a dozen of the Chinamen were crowding toward the foot of the stairs. A couple of the bombs hurled among them drove them back. Two more missiles followed; then Hallock slammed the door shut and fastened it.
Running to the rail, he signaled us to advance. In two or three minutes our rowboat was alongside and we were scrambling up the anchor chain.