“Run, both of you,” the sailor cried out to them. Phil saw Patterson reel, and caught him in his arms. The lad turned the ensign toward him and a great sob of anguish escaped his lips as he saw the death pallor already on the stricken officer’s face. The next moment the lifeless body fell at his feet, and almost touching the lifeless body of the friend for whom he had heroically but fruitlessly given his young life.
Turning upon the enemy, who had now hesitated in their advance in face of such unexpected resistance, Phil fired his revolver until empty. Then a crash and a mighty explosion almost threw him to the ground.
“Quick, sir, run; those are our shells,” O’Neil exclaimed, and together the two raced for the beach, guided in their flight by the discharges from the guns of the “Sitka,” while behind them the rebel natives were left to exult over their victory. Again the invincible white man—papalangi—had been found to be only mortal.
CHAPTER XXII
WAR IN EARNEST
When Phil and O’Neil reached the beach, the “Sitka’s” shells were screeching angrily over their heads and exploding in the bush behind them. The sailors had been collected and formed on the beach road to repel an attack. Three officers and eight sailors were missing and a score had received wounds. The command of the force fell to a sub-lieutenant from the English cruiser. Tupper, Morrison and Patterson had been killed and left upon the field.
“There were at least a thousand of them,” Sydney exclaimed as he met Phil and grasped his hand silently, thankful for his escape, “and Scott or some white man was with them. Many of the men say they distinctly heard a white man’s voice encouraging the natives to charge us.”
The sailors were apathetic, stunned. The suddenness of the attack and their defeat had unnerved every man of them.
“If we could only have used the machine gun,” Childers moaned plaintively, “we’d have had a different story to tell.”
Little by little the men’s shattered nerves were mended. The “Sitka’s” shells yet screeched overhead, but the rebel natives had retired.
The commanding officer gave the order and put the force in motion. It was a sadly disheartened band that entered the town of Ukula an hour later.