After a short deliberation, a boat full of men armed with creeses approached the shore, and was met by a canoe containing an officer and party with a letter from Captain Maxwell, addressed to the chief authority at Minto, stating the situation of the Alceste's crew, and praying that assistance might be sent to them.
The officer placed this letter in the hands of the Malays, repeatedly pronounced the word Minto, and showed them a dollar, to intimate that they would be well rewarded if they returned with an answer. They appeared to understand the mission, and to be willing to execute it; but, as may be supposed, the service was never performed.
Meantime the Malay forces continued to increase; no less than fifty proahs and boats of different sizes were collected, and, on a moderate computation, they had 500 men on board. Their mischievous intentions were too evident; they drew closer and closer to the shore, prevented the escape of any of the ship's boats, and even had recourse to stratagem in order to gain possession of the much-desired booty. One party declared that all the Malays except themselves were hostile, and urged that they might be allowed to go to the camp to guard the crew of the Alceste. This kind offer was of course refused. 'We can trust to ourselves,' was the reply. The plot began to thicken; the odds seemed fearfully against the heroic little band, who, badly armed, and worse provisioned, had to make good their position against a multitude of foes—matchless amongst savages in cunning and cruelty. But in proportion to the imminence of the danger rose the courage of our countrymen.
Mr. M'Leod relates that, in the evening, when Captain Maxwell had assembled, as usual, the men under arms, for the purpose of inspecting them, he addressed them in these words: 'My lads, you must all have observed this day, as well as myself, the great increase of the enemy's force (for enemies we must now consider them), and the threatening position they have assumed. I have, on various grounds, strong reason to believe they will attack us this night. I do not wish to conceal our real state, because I think there is not a man here who is afraid to face any sort of danger. We are now strongly fenced in, and our position in all respects is so good, that armed as we are, we ought to make a formidable defence even against regular troops; what, then, would be thought of us, if we allowed ourselves to be surprised by a set of naked savages with their spears and their creeses?
'It is true they have swivels in their boats, but they cannot act here; I have not observed that they have any matchlocks or muskets; but if they have, so have we!
'I do not wish to deceive you as to the means of resistance in our power. When we were first thrown together on shore we were almost defenceless. Seventy-five ball-cartridges only could be mustered; we have now sixteen hundred. They cannot, I believe, send up more than five hundred men, but, with two hundred such as now stand around me, I do not fear a thousand—nay, fifteen hundred of them! I have the fullest confidence that we shall beat them. The pikemen standing firm, we can give them such a volley of musketry as they will be little prepared for, and when we find they are thrown into confusion, we'll sally out among them, chase them into the water, and ten to one but we secure their vessels. Let every man, therefore, be on the alert with his arms in his hands; and should these barbarians this night attempt our hill, I trust we shall convince them that they are dealing with Britons!'
This short but spirited appeal had its full effect upon the hearts to whom it was addressed. It was answered by three wild hurras, which were taken up by the piquets and outposts, and resounded through the woods. The British cheer struck the savages with terror; they no doubt thought it preceded an attack, and they were observed making signals with lights to some of their tribe behind the islet.
The night passed undisturbed, and daylight discovered the pirates in the same position, their force increased by ten proahs, making their number at least six hundred men. The situation of Captain Maxwell and his party became hourly more critical; the provisions could not last long—something must be done—some plan must be decided on. They had but little choice; they must either make a dash at the pirates, and seize their boats, with the certainty of being all butchered should they not succeed,—and the odds were fearfully against them,—or they must maintain their present position, in the hope that aid might be sent from Java, in time to save them from a scarcely less horrible fate—the lingering death of famine.
Under these depressing circumstances, the spirits of the men never for a moment seemed to flag. True 'hearts of oak,' their courage increased with their difficulties, and the prevailing desire amongst them was, to rush upon the enemy and get possession of their boats, or perish in the attempt.
But for this day, at least, they were ordered to remain passive; perhaps in coming to this decision, the wise and brave commander of the party may have remembered another captain who was 'in a great strait,' and who said, 'Let us fall now into the hands of the Lord, for His mercies are great, and let me not fall into the hand of man,' The decision, then, was to wait; and the hours rolled on till afternoon, when an officer ascended one of the loftiest trees, and thence he thought he descried a sail at a great distance. The joyful news seemed too good to be true.