“Lads,” said the captain, as he again dropped alongside, “I expect you to be cool and obey orders. You are to attack each prow in succession. Two will attack one and two the other, and I will move on to wherever I am most required. No cheering till we are actually on board and the vessel is our own. We must make sharp work of it, and I hope daylight will see the pirate fleet either taken or destroyed. No cheering, lads, now. That is just what I expect you to do.”
Saying this, the captain once more took his position at the head of the little squadron. How calm and quiet and peaceable looked that bay! Not a ripple broke the surface of the water, which reflected the stars that glittered in the clear heaven. Like a snake springing on its prey, the line of boats advanced towards the prows. Our approach was not perceived, as far as we could judge. Probably the Malays, trusting in their numbers, and not aware of the neighbourhood of the ship, kept no watch. There was one awkward question, which I suppose our captain had asked himself—Were the people we were going to attack really pirates or honest traders? He, I conclude, had received information which made him sure that they were pirates; if not, that they had been, or would be, if opportunity offered. If they were the gentry who had burned the merchant vessel and attacked the Fawn, they deserved punishment, there was no doubt about that. Steadily we advanced, every moment expecting to have a fire of gingals opened upon us. The pirates slept soundly; not even a dog barked on board any of their vessels. As we got nearer we saw the masts of a square-rigged vessel rising up in their midst. She was probably their prize. This made our captain more certain that they were the pirates he hoped to find. On we steadily went till the leading boat was within twenty yards of a large prow, two others appearing close astern of her, while the others were anchored in line, the barque—for such she appeared to be—inside of all; indeed, from the way she heeled over, we judged that she was aground. There seemed to be every probability of our getting on board unobserved, when suddenly a shout was heard from the deck of the nearest prow, and a bullet directly afterwards whistled over our heads. Numerous other wild cries and shouts arose from the nearest vessel, quickly taken up by those astern of her.
“On, lads!” cried our captain. “Remember my directions?”
Scarcely had he spoken, when his boat dashed alongside the prow, two others following his example; we pushed on to the next. There was no time for thought before we were clambering up her side and engaged hand to hand in a desperate conflict with her dark-skinned crew, looking still darker in the gloom of night, grinning, and shouting, and hacking away at us with their sharp sabres, while others fired their matchlocks and gingals in our faces. Our pistols and cutlasses, were, however, well matched to them; I kept close to Dicky Plumb, who sprang on board with the greatest gallantry. The glitter of Dicky’s uniform seemed to excite the fury of the Malays; three big fellows making a dash at him together. I turned aside the sword of one fellow who was about to cut him down; but it would have gone hard with him, had not Ned Rawlings, who was with us, sprung forward, and with a sweep of his cutlass settled the other two; the remainder of the crew, finding that resistance was vain, leaped overboard, and attempted to swim on shore. No quarter was asked for; the pirates were not accustomed to give it themselves, and probably expected none. In ten minutes not a Malay remained alive on board. According to orders, as soon as we had captured one vessel, we leaped again into our boats, and pulled off to the next; in another instant we were alongside her, with pikes being poked down at us, and matchlocks and gingals fired in our faces. Though two of our men had been wounded, no one as yet had been killed. In spite of the warm reception we met with, we managed to climb on board, and we went through much the same scene as that before enacted; we found the Malays no despicable enemies, for they fought with the greatest desperation, even when all hope of victory had been lost. As on board the other vessel, no one would yield; and after a third of the crew had been killed, the remainder sprang overboard, some being drowned, others, probably, reaching the shore in safety. It might have been wise if we had set the captured prows on fire immediately; but probably our captain wished to recover the cargo of the barque, which they might have got on board, and therefore spared them till there was time to search their holds.
We went on from vessel to vessel, not always seeing what became of those who jumped overboard. We had captured eight or ten in this way, when the remainder were seen to be cutting their cables, and running on shore; at the same time, the first vessel we had captured was observed to be moving; there could be little doubt that the Malays who had jumped overboard from the other prows had contrived to reach her; as she was the largest, and had a considerable amount of cargo on board, they probably thought it worth while running every risk in the hope of escaping with her. Mr Mason was the first to discover what had occurred, and ordered us immediately into the boat; we then pulled away in chase. The prow was making towards a point which formed one side of the bay; she had already got a considerable start before she had been perceived. We had had by this time one of our number killed and two wounded, who, though they persisted in keeping at the oars, could not put forth their usual strength; one, indeed, had before long to give up; still Mr Mason persevered, hoping to overtake the prow before she could reach the shore. As we shoved off from the last vessel we had taken, he shouted to the crew of the boat which had boarded with us, saying where we were going; but probably he was not heard, for we were left to make chase alone. We had four marines with us, who stood up every now and then, and fired at the enemy, but that only made them pull away the faster; we were gaining on them, but not very rapidly. Now and then, the enemy fired at us in return.
“Pull away, lads I pull away!” shouted Dicky every now and then, helping the stroke oar.
The prow was getting nearer and nearer the shore. It seemed very doubtful whether we should overtake her before she reached it. Still, the example set by Captain Sharpe was followed by his officers. His motto was “Persevere,” so was theirs. At length the prow got within twenty fathoms of the beach. We were almost up with her, when the other wounded man I spoke of gave in, sinking down, poor fellow! at his oar. This hindered us when we were almost up to the vessel. Once more we were on the point of hooking on, when the prow dashed high up on the beach. At that moment, a number of men with firearms rushed out from among the trees and rocks, and began peppering away at us.
“We will board her first, and drive them away afterwards,” shouted Mr Mason, springing up the side of the vessel.
Dicky Plumb and I followed him, with Ned Rawlings, the marines covering us with their muskets as we did so. The enemy soon gave way, the greater number rushing over the bows and wading on shore. We had recaptured the prow, but just as we were congratulating ourselves on our easy victory, bright flames burst forth from the fore part of the vessel, spreading rapidly. To extinguish them was impossible.
“To the boats, lads!” shouted Mr Mason, “or the craft may be blowing up and carrying us with her. We must punish these fellows, however.”