Nameless Island

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26. A Great Disaster



The natives had furnished themselves with torches made from the branches of resinous trees, and in the ruddy flare the painted bodies of the warriors made an easy mark.

"Three hundred yards," said Mr. McKay, setting up the backsight of his rifle. "Fire rapidly, but aim low. We may check the rush before they come to close quarters."

The sharp reports of the rifles echoed along the rocky walls of the defile, and a series of loud shrieks told that the fire had not been in vain. Yet the onward rush was apparently unchecked, for though several of the torches were extinguished, the savages still rushed to the attack.

"Where's the searchlight?" muttered Mr. McKay, as he thrust a fresh clip of cartridges into his magazine.

At that moment the giant beam swung majestically round and fixed itself upon the gorge.

Under the powerful rays the scene of horror was thrown into high relief. The upper part of the defile was literally choked with human beings. A few of the foremost warriors, drawing clear of the press, had managed to evade the death-dealing volleys, and with brandished clubs and spears were rushing upon the barricade.

This much the defenders saw as the first flash of the searchlight was thrown upon the scene. The next instant the shouts of triumph and pain gave place to cries of terror.

The blinding rays, coming apparently from out of the earth, were far more to be feared than the bullets. To the savage mind it was magic--black magic.

The warlike mob seemed to melt away. Some of the warriors, throwing down their weapons, rushed from the scene of action with their arms pressed tightly across their eyes as if to shut out the penetrating beams; others dropped where they stood, grovelling in the dust and uttering cries, while in the space of five minutes the defile was deserted, save by the dead and wounded and a few of the natives, whose terror seemed to have rooted them to the earth.

"That's spotted them!" exclaimed Andy, as he threw down his over-heated rifle. "I hope it will scare them right off the island."

"It has worked wonders," assented Mr. McKay. "But be careful, some of those men are not dead, I feel sure. Bring down every man you see moving."

Rifle on shoulder the lads waited. They quite realised the danger of allowing the natives to lurk in the defile, and as each cautiously moving body could be seen, as a terrified warrior slowly recovered from his panic, a carefully aimed shot caused him to fall.

"We are comparatively secure till daylight," said Mr. McKay. "They've had another lesson. Andy, you might relieve Terence at the searchlight. Keep it fixed on the defile, though at intervals you might direct it seawards. Quexo, I want you to carry up as many pails of water as you can to Blight's cave. Ellerton, you're feeling fit, I hope? Will you keep a look-out, I am going to have forty winks."

It was an exaggerated "forty winks." Mr. McKay, dead beat with his exertions, slept like a log till daybreak, Terence keeping him company.

Ellerton had meanwhile climbed over the stockade and succeeded in bringing back several of the terrified sheep, which throughout the night had been huddled together in helpless terror.

Beyond an occasional shot as a few of the wretched natives attempted to wriggle out of the death-trap, the rest of the night had passed without further disturbance; but the dawn revealed a different state of affairs.

The discomfited savages were evidently built of stern stuff, for as soon as it was light, undaunted by their defeat in the hours of darkness, they took possession of the summit of the cliff overlooking the defenders' lines.

Standing on the very edge of the precipice, like bronzed statues, several of the chiefs surveyed the scene beneath them, till, having taken in all that they wanted, they withdrew to the main body of warriors.

Instantly the fierce shouts of the savages rent the air, and a shower of stones and throwing-spears was hurled upon the white men's defences.

The missiles rattled on the iron roof of the house and upon the top of the shelter over the searchlight; but the defenders, safe within the covered-in barricade, were secure from the furious hail, though unable to reply by a single shot. Several of the sheep were transfixed by spears, each casualty being greeted with a hoarse roar of delight from the attackers.

Terence, however, who had returned to his post at the seaward side of the terrace, saw the possibility of the searchlight being damaged by stones, and, regardless of the danger, he rushed from his shelter to place a screen of planks over the partially exposed instrument.

His appearance was the signal for a redoubled discharge of missiles, but coolly he continued his task.

"Get back to cover!" shouted Mr. McKay.

At that moment a stone caught the lad in the side, and staggering a few paces he fell.

A yell of triumph greeted the success of the savages; but without a moment's hesitation Ellerton rushed through the danger zone. Unscathed he gained his friend's side, and to his relief found that the missile had merely winded him.

Fortunately Terence had the presence of mind to stagger to the remote side of the searchlight hut, where the two lads were protected from the hailstorm of stones.

"Are you fit for a dash?" asked Ellerton after a while.

"Yes," replied Terence, "I'm ready now."

Seizing their rifles, the two friends rushed at top speed across the open ground and gained the shelter of the palisade guarding the cliff-path. Here they were, so to speak, on the wrong side of the fence, and had there been any savages on the shore their position would have been critical in the extreme.

As it was, they were able to keep up a constant fire upon the natives on the cliff; but their foes seemed totally indifferent to the rifles, though man after man was observed to fall.

The savages had not been idle. Realising that the buildings and the barricade at the end of the defile were proof against stones and spears, they rolled an enormous stone to the edge of the cliff with the intention of dropping it upon the roofed-in stockade.

"Look out!" shouted Ellerton. "There's a rock about to fall on your heads!"

Taking advantage of the warning shout, Mr. McKay, Quexo, and Andy crossed the covered way to the opposite side of the defile. Not a moment too soon.

In spite of a couple of successful shots by Ellerton, who managed to bowl over one of the most active of the savages who were engaged in rolling the ponderous rock, the mass of stone rushed down the slope and shot clear of the cliff.

The next instant it crashed through the frail roof of the barricade, and, in addition, smashed a huge gap in the wall of packing-cases and chests.

"A near shave," ejaculated Mr. McKay. "If they keep that game up we shall soon be without a roof to our heads."

Emboldened by their success, a considerable number of the savages worked their way round to the head of the gorge with the intention of charging the shattered defences, the remaining natives still keeping up a telling discharge from the brink of the cliff.

"I must rush it," said Ellerton hurriedly, as he grasped the state of affairs. "Keep a good look-out along the shore, Terence. If I fall, don't attempt a rescue; there are not enough of us to throw ourselves away like that."

Bending low, the lad ran across the danger zone once more, and although several spears fell close to him, he gained the side of his companions in safety.

Seen by day, the advance of the savages had an even more fearful appearance than the night attack. Brandishing their weapons and uttering awful yells, they rushed down the gorge, with one object in view. They meant to come to hand-grips with the stubborn defenders of the barricade.

"Now, Andy," remarked Mr. McKay quietly, "reserve your fire till the thickest of the press passes yonder rock, then aim carefully at that canister. Go on firing, you," he added to the other two lads.

The execution caused by the three rifles amongst that solid pack of howling savages was great. No body of white men would have faced it, but undaunted the warriors swept on.

Andy, finger on trigger, watched the advance till the critical moment; but his arm was not so firm as it ought to have been, and the bullet struck the rock a foot to the left of the tin of explosives.

"Miss, by Jove!" he exclaimed savagely as he jerked open the breach and ejected the empty cylinder.

Ere he could again take aim, Mr. McKay's rifle spoke. There was a blinding glare, followed by a deafening report, and the close ranks of the savages seemed to be swept aside as if by a gigantic flail. Not only did the dynamite charge scatter death amongst the natives, but the concussion brought down huge masses of rock from the cliffs, their fall adding to the terror and confusion of the attackers.

"That's fifty of them at the very least," exclaimed Andy. "A few more coups like that, and we'll wipe them all out."

"It will teach them caution, I'm afraid," was his father's reply. "But we've done very well up to the present. How's Terence?"

"He was only slightly hurt," replied Ellerton.

"No sign of any canoes?"

"No, sir."

"Thank Heaven for that," replied Mr. McKay fervently.

"The explosion also sent off the other canisters," observed Andy. "Shall we place some others in the gorge when it is dark?"

"I don't think they will attempt that way again," replied Mr. McKay. "They've had a rare fright, both by day and night."

"I noticed a crowd of them on the cliffs immediately above the cave where the rest of the dynamite is stored," paid Ellerton. "If we can use the stuff to no better purpose, why not set a time-fuse, and give them another surprise?"

"It might be done, but there's a great risk to be run by whoever lights the fuse."

"I'm willing to do it," said Ellerton resolutely. "I can creep along the base of the cliff so as to be out of sight."

"Then do it, my boy. Now's the time to act, before they have got over their last reverse."

Without a moment's delay, Ellerton dashed across the spear-encumbered ground and gained the shelter of the overhanging cliffs. Then waving his hands to his companions, he disappeared from view.

There was a lull in the fighting. The defenders, anxiously awaiting their comrade's return, lay idle within their defences, while the natives were content to hurl an occasional spear or stone upon the roofs of the buildings to show that they were still determined to continue the attack.

"I hope Ellerton's all right," exclaimed Andy uneasily. "He's been gone quite long enough."

"I cannot help thinking the same," replied his father.

They waited another five minutes, then Quexo announced his intention of going to search for Massa El'ton.

"Be careful, then, Quexo," said Andy. "Remember Mr. Ellerton may have lit the fuse--set fire to great bang-up," he added, noting that the mulatto looked puzzled over the word "fuse."

"All right, Massa Andy. Quexo he mind take care ob self an' Massa El'ton."

Another five minutes passed in breathless suspense. What had happened? Ellerton had only to cover a distance of about four hundred yards both ways. Allowing for the rugged nature of the ground, and the necessity for caution, he ought to have returned several minutes ago. Perhaps he had stumbled and was lying helpless within a few feet of the heavily charged mine.

Suddenly two revolver shots rang out in quick succession, and Quexo's voice was heard shouting for aid.

"Stay here, Andy," exclaimed his father hurriedly, and grasping his revolver he ran towards the scene of action, the report of another shot greeting his ears as he went.

On rounding a spur of the cliff, a strange sight met his gaze. From the summit of the cliff dangled a long rope of cocoa-fibre. Half-way from the ground was a native, evidently badly wounded, grasping the swaying rope with one hand while the other was pressed against his side. On the ground at about twelve feet from the end of the rope lay four bodies in a heap, and on arriving at the spot Mr. McKay discovered to his consternation that two of the motionless forms were those of his companions.

Quexo lay uppermost, a jagged spear-head buried deep in his back. One hurried glance revealed the sad truth that the faithful mulatto was dead. Under him were the bodies of two natives, both shot through the chest, while underneath the ghastly pile was Ellerton.

As Mr. McKay stooped over the lad, a spear whizzed close to his ear and sank deeply in the ground. It was a stern warning, and Mr. McKay took advantage of it. Lifting Ellerton's body, he bore it to the shelter of the cliffs, then as the rope began to tremble violently he stepped out a pace, revolver in hand.

He fired, and two bodies came hurtling through space, striking the ground with a heavy thud. A lucky shot had severed the rope as cleanly as if by a knife.

There was no time to be lost. At any moment the mine might be sprung. Hoisting Ellerton's body on his shoulder like a sack of flour, Mr. McKay began his retreat, stepping over the rough ground with giant strides, till the shelter of the cliffs came to an end. Here he transferred his burden to his arms, and, protecting it as well as he was able with his own body, he dashed across the open.

Unscathed he reached the roofed-in stockade, and breathlessly he deposited the body of his comrade upon the ground.

"Dead?" asked Andy anxiously.

"No, only stunned. It's a bad business."

"And Quexo?"

"He's gone, poor fellow!"

"Oh!" Andy gasped, as if something had struck him; but the blow was a mental not a physical injury. "How----"

His words were interrupted by a roar that seemed to shake the island to its very foundations. The cliffs trembled, dislodging masses of loose rock, while a blast of air swept over the terrace like a tornado.

The mine had exploded!