Part 2 (2/2)

Again we bent to the oars, and in a moment we too had doubled the point, and were in the wake of the long-boat. The s.h.i.+p lay directly before us, and within long hailing distance.

”Now, comrades, let us shout together, and try to make them understand their danger,” said Browne, standing up in the stern.

”A dozen strokes more,” said Arthur, ”and we can do it with more certain success.”

Luerson merely glanced back at us, as he once more heard the dash of our oars; but he took no farther notice of us: the crisis was too close at hand.

On board the s.h.i.+p all seemed quiet. Some of the men were gathered together on the starboard bow, apparently engaged in fis.h.i.+ng; they did not seem to notice the approach of the boats.

”Now, then!” cried Arthur, at length, uns.h.i.+pping his oar, and springing to his feet, ”one united effort to attract their attention--all together--now, then!” and we sent up a cry that echoed wildly across the water, and startled the idlers congregated at the bows, who came running to the side of the vessel nearest us.

”We have got their attention; now hail them,” said Arthur, turning to Browne, who had a deep powerful voice; ”tell them not to let the long-boat board them.”

Browne put his hands to his mouth, and in tones that could have been distinctly heard twice the distance, shouted--”Look-out for the long-boat--don't let them board you--the men have killed the first officer, and want to take the s.h.i.+p!” From the stir and confusion that followed, it was clear that the warning was understood.

But the mutineers were now scarcely twenty yards from the vessel, towards which they were ploughing their way with unabated speed. The next moment they were under her bows; just as their oars flew into the air, we could hear a deep voice from the deck, sternly ordering them to ”keep off,” and I thought that I could distinguish Captain Erskine standing near the bowsprit.

The mutineers gave no heed to the order; several of them sprang into the chains, and Luerson among the rest. A fierce, though unequal struggle, at once commenced. The captain, armed with a weapon which he wielded with both hands, and which I took to be a capstan-bar, struck right and left among the boarders as they attempted to gain the deck, and one, at least of them, fell back with a heavy plunge into the water. But the captain seemed to be almost unsupported; and the mutineers had nearly all reached the deck, and were pressing upon him.

”Oh, but this is a cruel sight!” said Browne, turning away with a shudder. ”Comrades, can we do nothing more?”

Morton, who had been groping beneath the sail in the bottom of the boat now dragged forth the cutla.s.ses which Spot had insisted on placing there when we went ash.o.r.e.

”Here are arms!” he exclaimed, ”we are not such boys, but that we can take a part in what is going on--let us pull to the s.h.i.+p!”

”What say you!” cried Arthur, glancing inquiringly from one to another; ”we can't, perhaps, do much, but shall we sit here and see Mr Erskine murdered, without _trying_ to help him!”

”Friends, let us to the s.h.i.+p!” cried Browne, with deep emotion, ”I am ready.”

”And I!” gasped Max, pale with excitement, ”we can but be killed.”

Can we hope to turn the scale of this unequal strife? shall we do more than arrive at the scene of conflict in time to experience the vengeance of the victorious mutineers?--such were the thoughts that flew hurriedly through my mind. I was entirely unaccustomed to scenes of violence and bloodshed, and my head swam, and my heart sickened, as I gazed at the confused conflict raging on the vessel's deck, and heard the shouts and cries of the combatants. Yet I felt an inward recoil against the baseness of sitting an idle spectator of such a struggle. A glance at the lion-hearted Erskine still maintaining the unequal fight, was an appeal to every n.o.ble and generous feeling: it nerved me for the attempt, and though I trembled as I grasped an oar, it was with excitement and eagerness, not with fear.

The yawl had hardly received the first impulse in the direction of the s.h.i.+p, when the report of fire-arms was heard.

”Merciful heavens!” cried Morton, ”the captain is down! that fiend Luerson has shot him!”

The figure which I had taken for that of Mr Erskine, was no longer to be distinguished among the combatants, some person was now dragged to the side of the s.h.i.+p towards us, and thrown overboard; he sunk after a feeble struggle; a triumphant shout followed, and then two men were seen running up the rigging.

”There goes poor Spot up to the foretop,” said Max, pointing to one of the figures in the rigging; ”he can only gain time at the best but it can't be that they'll kill him in cold blood.”

”Luerson is just the man to do it,” answered Morton; ”the faithful fellow has stood by the captain, and that will seal his fate--look! it is as I said,” and I could see some one pointing, what was doubtless Mr Frazer's fowling-piece, at the figure in the foretop. A parley seemed to follow; as the result of which, the fugitive came down and surrendered himself. The struggle now appeared to be over, and quiet was once more restored.

So rapidly had these events pa.s.sed, and so stunning was their effect, that it was some moments before we could collect our thoughts, or fully realise our situation; and we sat, silent and bewildered, gazing toward the s.h.i.+p.

Max was the first to break silence; ”And now, what's to be done?” he said, ”as to going aboard, that is of course out of the question: the s.h.i.+p is no longer our home.”

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