Part 17 (1/2)

Depends on the crews. As for their firing, I don't care a rap about it.

Those guns don't carry over-far, and from what I saw at the stockade I should say that at a little more than a hundred yards one would only experience a heavy blow. At fifty the slugs would penetrate. Hullo! I don't like those beggars.”

As he spoke there was greater commotion amidst the canoes, all of which were now under weigh, while those on the outside, the river side of the fleet, had broken clear of their comrades and were pus.h.i.+ng for the centre of the stream. This, however, was not what attracted d.i.c.k's attention, and drew the remark from him. It was the sight of two native craft of larger size which suddenly pushed from the shadow of the bank.

They were crammed to overflowing, and carried big crews, who knelt in a line along each side. In the centre stood the warriors, shouting and gesticulating, and fighting their way through the mob. Small consideration did they give to those who were in their way. d.i.c.k saw the warriors strike at their comrades with the b.u.t.ts of their firelocks, and watched as more than on of the smaller craft was overturned. Then he sat down and took up a rifle.

”A shot might help,” he said quietly. ”How's steam?”

Johnnie pointed to the indicator and looked proud.

”Hab plenty,” he said. ”Stoke um more and perhaps um bust. Plenty steam in de biler.”

”Then get your rifle, and aim at the rowers in the first of those two boats. Don't leave her alone. Keep on all the while unless you have to stoke again.”

”Not want to. Hab plenty steam and big fire,” answered Johnnie, with a satisfied nod. ”Not hab any more coal till half-hour. By den p'raps not hab steamer.”

”Perhaps,” answered d.i.c.k, with a smile. ”We're going to see to that.

Out with your rifle.”

Still gripping the tiller between his knees, while he sat on the edge of the well, he took a long and careful aim at the first of the paddlers, the one who set the stroke to the boat, and pressed the trigger when the sights were on him. Instantly there was a howl of rage, and the man dropped back on to the rower behind him, while the whole lot came to a halt. But it was only for a quarter of a minute. One of the warriors who stood close by lifted the body and hove it overboard without ceremony. Then he seized the paddle and thrust it into the water.

Crack! d.i.c.k's rifle broke the stillness which had followed the shout, and the man who had just knelt crumpled into a ma.s.s, the same disorder following.

”Five hundred yards I make it,” said our hero quietly. ”Give them a full sight, Johnnie, and aim for the centre of the body. Ah! A good one. I think you hit the side of the boat first, and then the man.

They don't waste time aboard those craft, and human life does not seem to be over-valuable.”

By now the launch and the fleet had sensibly decreased the intervening distance, the latter making directly across the river Pra, while the former raced down the centre of the river. It had become more than ever a question of time, and the thought made d.i.c.k redouble his efforts. And thanks to his shooting, the progress of the two war boats was greatly delayed, his bullet singling out the leading paddler every time the place was filled, till there was a panic in that part of the vessel.

Then suddenly an unexpected thing happened. The two aboard the launch had taken little notice of the firing which still went on from the bank and from a number of the canoes, and which was of greater danger to the enemy than to them, for the range of the enemy's firearms was inconsiderable. Now, however, a shot attracted their attention. There was a louder report than usual, and a bullet of large size sped from the fleet, and striking the funnel, bored clean through it, the puncture being plainly discernible by the flames and smoke which instantly emerged. d.i.c.k started forward, till he was stretched across the after-well, the tip of the tiller in his hand, and almost at once there was a second shot, followed by a heavy thud behind him, and finally by a splash out in the river. He turned to find the tiller loose in his hand, splintered by the missile, the fracture of the shaft having taken place an inch or two in front of the slot cut for it in the rudder. The steering gear was cut adrift, and as he looked at the shaft in his hand the launch went off her course. She shot to the right, away from the enemy, causing a scream of rage to rise from a thousand throats. Then, as suddenly, she swerved to the other side, till those aboard her were almost rolled into the water. She seemed to see the enemy before her, for she took the bit in her teeth, and, with her propeller thras.h.i.+ng the water behind her, went directly towards them, a bow wave splas.h.i.+ng up on either hand. And then the tone of the Ashantis changed. Whatever they were, they were men of courage, and not to be frightened by a monster of this sort speeding down upon them. They had, for the most part, never seen a launch before, and those who had, had probably never seen one in full flight. Yet they did not flinch. They stood in their boats, and such a shout of triumph went up that the woods rang and rang again.

Then their guns opened with a vengeance, and a perfect storm of missiles hurtled towards the launch. They did not stop her. She did not seem to notice the bullets splas.h.i.+ng on either hand and tumbling on her deck.

The launch had got out of hand, and as if she were tired of life and roused to desperation by the pressure of steam which she carried, she went on her mad course, rus.h.i.+ng down to doom and destruction.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

RUNNING THE GAUNTLET.

”That stoking bar, Johnnie! Quick! For your life!”

d.i.c.k could not wait to explain, for the situation was one which demanded instant action. When he had recovered from his amazement at the result of the unlucky shot from the forest, and had seen that the tiller was broken, he had no time to reflect that but for the movement which he had made a moment before he would have been killed by the very bullet which had wrought the mischief. Action, instant and effectual, was required, and his eye had at once sought for a subst.i.tute. Suddenly he remembered the iron bar used for stoking the fire, and as he shouted for it he prepared to place it in position. With a bound he was on the deck right aft, and kicking the b.u.t.t of the fractured shaft from behind, shot it out of its socket. Then he gripped the rudder post and twisted it with all his strength, contriving to head the launch for the centre of the stream. Two or three seconds later the native was beside him, and as d.i.c.k held the post the bar was pushed into the socket.

”Hab um now! Get over oder side plenty quick. Put um over, ma.s.sa.”

d.i.c.k did so, with a heave which again caused the launch to roll till water spurted through her scuppers, while the two aboard crouched on the deck and held on for their lives. Then he set her on a new course, turning her head diagonally across the stream.

”Get to the rifle,” he said sharply. ”And first lay mine here so that I can grip them. That's right. Crouch in your engine well so as to avoid the bullets. Do you hear? Go!”

Johnnie's eyes had asked a question. He had as good as said to his master when the caution to sit in the engine well had been given, ”And what ma.s.sa do? He not crouch. Plenty ob cover for Johnnie, but what about ma.s.sa?” But d.i.c.k brushed aside his question with one word, and proceeded to fix the bar between his knees, as he had done with the wooden tiller.

”Let 'em shoot at it again,” he said, ”and I guess the bullet won't do much harm. In any case it was a fluke, and not a bad attempt to pot me.

Hah! That got one fellow. I shall have to play with these men.”