Chapter Thirteen.
In the Clutches of the Chief.
The crew of the Dolphin, though numerous and well accustomed to the use of arms, being thus taken unawares, were almost helpless. The sharp-edged war-clubs of the natives came crashing down upon their heads, as they ran here and there in search of weapons to defend themselves. Lieutenant Pyke was struck dead the instant he appeared at the companion-hatch. The second mate was treated in the same way, while the boatswain, with a few men who gathered round him, made a desperate attempt to defend himself; but he and his party were overpowered by numbers, and cut down, after they had killed several of the natives. Some of our men jumped down below, but were followed by the savages. Whether they were killed, or whether any escaped, we could not tell. A few ran up the rigging, where the natives appeared afraid to follow them.
In a few minutes, besides Dick and me, not a white man whom we could see, except those aloft, remained alive. The natives now began dancing frantically about the deck, whirling their clubs over their heads, and shouting at the top of their voices for joy of their victory. They either did not observe Dick and me, or knowing that we must at length come in, did not think us worth their notice. I felt almost overpowered with horror. In spite of that, however, I thought of dear Miss Kitty, dreading that she and Mr Falconer, with those in the boat, would, on their return, have to share the terrible fate of our other companions; while I fully expected Dick and I would soon be summoned off to be killed.
What had become of Mrs Podgers, and those who had been below at the moment of the attack, we could not tell.
“Oh, Dick, what are we to do?” I exclaimed, trembling with fear.
“We must trust to God, Charley,” he answered. “He will take care of us, though how that is to be, is more than I can say. I can only hope that the savages, fierce as they are, will not have the heart to kill a little boy like you; and it can matter little what becomes of an old fellow, such as I am. Say your prayers, Charley, though you cannot kneel down. That does not matter.”
The savages all this time continued dancing on the deck, as if they would beat it in, shouting at the top of their voices, and flourishing their war-clubs, looking more like a gang of demons let loose than human beings.
“It will be bad enough for us, Charley, even though the natives don’t kill and eat us, but my mind is most troubled about poor Miss Kitty. What will become of her, if they get hold of the boat? and there’s no chance that I can see of her escaping.”
“I was thinking of her, too,” I said, “and Mr Falconer. The savages will murder him and the boat’s crew, as they have the rest. Oh, Dick! I cannot stand it. I wish they would kill me at once!”