Part 21 (1/2)

”That was a lucky thought of yours, Ellerton, my boy,” exclaimed Mr.

McKay, when the little party was safely on board. ”They scooted like rabbits. But, by Jove! it was a narrow squeak.”

CHAPTER XIV

ROUTING THE SAVAGES

There was not the slightest doubt about it. The expedition had failed disastrously. Quexo was badly wounded, the white men all more or less exhausted, while barely forty utterly demoralised natives were cowering in their canoes.

”Well, we can't stay here,” remarked Mr. McKay, after the mulatto's hurts had been dressed and the wounded man placed on one of the bunks.

”They will be starting in pursuit, I'm thinking, and so, Mr. Blight, will you tell those black rascals to man two of their canoes and destroy the others? By that means we may be able to get the survivors back to Ni Atong.”

Mr. McKay's opinion of the ex-pearler was undergoing a change. No doubt the man was a bit of a scoundrel, he thought, but he was older and possibly more of a reformed character than in the old days in Torres Strait. He had certainly fought well and had impressed the lads as a resolute and cautious combatant.

”I'll tell 'em, boss,” he replied. ”But, by snakes, it's a bad look-out.”

”It is,” a.s.sented Mr. McKay, as he prepared to go below and bind up a slight wound on his shoulder. ”Your friends will have to be content with Ni Atong for a while, I'm thinking.”

Andy was also in the cabin, where he was attending to a surface wound on his forehead--the legacy of one of the savages' showers of stones--so only Terence and Ellerton remained on deck with the ex-pearler.

”Couldn't the boss bring over the rest of your pals and settle our score with those n.i.g.g.e.rs?”

”What pals?”' asked Terence, taken aback by the suddenness of the question.

”Why, the other chaps on your island.”

”There are none,” replied Terence.

Barely had the words escaped him, when he realised that he had made an admission. He had revealed the comparative weakness of the defences of McKay's Island.

”Oh! Is that so?” was the rejoinder.

Blight said no more on the subject, for the yawl was now within hailing distance of the forlorn flotilla.

The natives accepted their white companion's orders without demur. The two most serviceable canoes were brought up with their full complement, and the rest were scuttled till they floated awash--useless to friend or foe. Then with a light breeze the three craft--the yawl leading the forlorn procession--headed for the opening in the reef.

Jimmy Blight was thinking. He was not of a thinking nature, but scheming and plotting were the only intellectual subjects in which he excelled. In fact, he was a past master in the art of intrigue.

He briefly summed up the situation and enlarged upon it. His house and store at Ahii were in the hands of a hostile race of savages. His wealth of copra and other valuable native products had vanished.

Had his black friends been able to regain possession of Ahii, he would not have hesitated to incite them to fall treacherously upon the white men from McKay's Island, and the doubtless valuable stores of that place would be his. Now, with fewer than forty of his savage friends at his command, the risk was too great--at least at present.

No, he must wait his time, return to Ni Atong, and endeavour to find an opportunity of surprising and slaying the handful of whites. If only he dared! With a fully charged revolver he might make a sudden attack----

This wicked scheming was suddenly interrupted by a shout from one of the canoes. The keen-eyed savages had detected an ominous movement ash.o.r.e. Their enemies were launching their canoes in pursuit of their discomfited adversaries.

”Say, boss!” exclaimed the ex-pearler, as Mr. McKay emerged from the little cabin. ”What's to be done now? There ain't no wind, in a manner o' speaking, and those reptiles'll overhaul us hand over fist.”

Mr. McKay did not reply at first, but anxiously scanned the sh.o.r.e with his gla.s.ses.