Trapped by Malays Part 69

Archie had, in a whisper, given such information to his companion as he could, and attributing the position to their still being at a considerable distance from the scene of the conflict, he had crushed down in his own breast the feeling of dread that the worst had occurred.

He had just come to this conclusion when Peter made a horrible suggestion.

"Mister Archie," he whispered, "ain't it all very quiet?"

"Yes. Perhaps the enemy is waiting for broad daylight, to make another attack."

"More fools they, sir, when they might catch our poor chaps quite done up in the darkness and without a shot to fire. But you don't think, sir, as we are too late, and the n.i.g.g.e.rs have made a rush, carried all before them, and ended up by finis.h.i.+ng our lads off?"

"No, I don't," said Archie shortly; "and now don't talk. What's the use of making the worst of things?"

"Quite right, sir. There, I've done; but I'd give anything to get to work again. Just tell me this, sir: how much farther have we got to go?"

"A very little way," whispered Archie, as he raised his head a little and peered through the boughs, to see that the fire was burning low and that they were now gliding into comparative darkness, evidently caused by the river mist keeping down the smoke, which hung low and partially obscured the light of the moon.

And now the big Malay was evidently busily using his pole, and thrusting hard to force the boat into the position he had marked. Then, as far as the listeners could make out, he had hauled up the little grapnel so that it hung over the side, worked hurriedly with his pole again, and then laid it leaning against a pile of boughs so that the two lads could hear the water dripping where they lay.

Then the grapnel was lowered again, and the boat swung round; and as Archie raised his head once more, it was to find that they were close up to their old position whence they had made their successful capture of the cartridges. And now it seemed as if they had suddenly glided from silence into the noise and turmoil of the fight, for from the sh.o.r.e came the shouts and yells of the Malays, who were evidently engaged in a savage attack upon the defenders of some portion of the station, and Archie, in his excitement, uttered a low:

"Thank Heaven!"

"What did you say that for, sir?" whispered Peter excitedly.

"That horrible silence, Pete, made me afraid that you were right."

"Ah, yes, sir; and that all our poor lads were wiped out. It's all right, sir, only that we ain't got no cartridges. But what are you going to do, sir? We can't go on lying here."

"No, Pete, of course not," whispered Archie, though there was no need, for the noise and tumult would have drowned his words even had they been spoken aloud.

He raised the boughs, but nothing was to be seen, for the bungalow was hidden by the smoke and mist now being borne by the faint breeze of the coming daylight in their direction. But he could make out enough to determine that an attack must have just commenced upon the mess-room and its surroundings, while, in spite of the stillness in that direction, the lad could gather that the defenders must be still holding their own.

A sudden sharp rustling and movement of the boat made Archie turn sharply.

"Don't say nothing, sir," panted his companion, whose voice sounded as if he had been running hard. "I couldn't bear it no longer, sir. I was being smothered. Can't you hear, sir? They ain't cheering, but our chaps is at work with the bay'net."

"Yes, yes, I hear," said Archie hoa.r.s.ely.

"Well, sir, we are close insh.o.r.e, and with a sharp run we could get in and help."

"But it would be madness, Pete, to try and land with Miss Minnie now."

"Who wants to land with Miss Minnie, sir?" cried the lad fiercely.

"She's safe here. You tell her to lie low, and say that what's his name is to pull up his anchor and run her a bit lower down, or across the river out of danger till all's safe again."

"Impossible, Pete. We are almost unarmed, and it would be like forsaking the poor girl at a time like this."

"What you talking about, sir? Here's two of us, and there's our poor chaps dropping before these n.i.g.g.e.rs' spears. Come on, sir! I must speak, for I feel it's our duty to be there."

"Yes, Pete," replied the subaltern in a voice that he hardly knew as his own; and rising clear of the bushes, he made his way to where he could dimly make out the figure of Minnie kneeling beneath the attap roof.

"Minnie," he whispered, "our men are fighting to defend the station, and our place is there. Tell the Malay to get the boat across to a spot where you will be safe. Don't ask me to stay. I can't." Turning from the girl as she made a s.n.a.t.c.h at his hand, "Now, Pete," he said, and grasping the gun, he sprang over the side into the shallow water, and then, as he dragged himself out by the help of the nearest bush, a quick panting from the gloom around told him that Peter was by his side. Then old discipline a.s.serted itself. "Forward! Double!" he cried; and falling into step, the two lads ran almost blindly in the direction of the shouting and yells, which acted as their guides to the quarter where the conflict was going on.

Those next minutes were to the lads like a brief period of blind confusion, and at one time they were hurrying between trees where the smoke was thickest, rising from places where firing was going on and the mist hung low but seemed to be lightened here and there by the flickering of fire, whose pungent odour of burning wood a.s.sailed their nostrils. Then Archie was conscious of finding himself rus.h.i.+ng through a crowd, at whom he struck right and left with the barrels of his gun, and of hearing a piercing yell somewhere to his right, followed by a grim, stem voice growling:

"You've got it, then!"

And at last, with a bound, the two lads stumbled, nearly fell, and then leaped together over a rough breast-work, and fell heavily amongst the dimly seen defenders who were left.

"Friends--friends!" yelled Peter, and then, "Mister Archie, sir, where are you? Ah! That's done it!" For no reply came in answer from his panting companion, who was being partly held up by one of those whom he had joined, and who gasped out a cheer.

"That's right! Hooray it is!" cried Peter. "Here, give us a rifle.

I've got a bayonet." And Archie heard the _click, click_ of the keen weapon being fixed.

This brought back his failing powers, and the next minute, finding himself in the little line of defenders who were dimly seen in the smoke that was floating from the levelled Residency, he raised the gun he still clung to, tired twice into the bearers of so many bristling spears, and began to load again, asking himself the question, "Are the cartridges wet?"

The little, hurriedly thrust-in rolls answered for themselves with two more sharp reports, and these four shots resulted in checking the enemy's advance and in raising a wildly exultant, though feeble, cheer from the defenders along the little line; for, trifling as was the addition to the failing force, the shots seemed to give as much encouragement to the enfeebled men as dismay to their enemy.

"Fire, sir--fire, Mister Archie! Don't stop to aim, sir!" panted Peter.

"I've got a lot more ready. Fire till the barrels are too hot to hold!" And, trembling with excitement the while, Archie fired as fast as he could drag the cartridges from the pockets where they lay.

And as he fired again and again the Malay attacking party hung back, dropped a little more to the rear, and began turning their spears into missiles, which began to whistle past the defenders, who were finding their voices more and more, and cheered hoa.r.s.ely.

"Here y'are, sir! Old England for ever!" cried Peter. "I've got about a couple of dozen handy. Ketch hold."

"Who's that firing?" came in a familiar voice from Archie's right.

"You, Maine! Great heavens! I thought--Here, distribute some of your cartridges to the men."

"No use, sir. This is a shot-gun," panted Archie hoa.r.s.ely; and he fired again twice, s.n.a.t.c.hed at a fresh supply from Peter, and was in the act of closing the breech again, when the Major exclaimed:

"Stand fast, my lads! It has given you a rest. Bayonets!"

There was another cheer at this, and the men stood fast as ever--a dwindling party, hard beset, of the defenders of the mess-room veranda, their breast-work for the most part consisting of the bodies of the slain.

"Steady, my lads! Close up!" cried the Major.--"That you, Sir Charles?

Good! I didn't know you could use a bayonet like that."

There was a tremendous yell from the front now, and it became plain that the enemy had recovered from the check given by the recrudescence of the long-stopped firing, little though it was, and were now coming forward in greater force.

"Close up, my lads!" he said again. "G.o.d save the Queen!"

The cheer that burst forth was only faint, but it was true as the British steel with which the men stood ready to deliver their final thrusts.

"The last two, Mister Archie!" panted Peter in a low tone. "Let 'em have 'em, sir, and then be ready. I've got another rifle and bay'net.

Fire, and chuck the Doctor's gun at them and hooroar! We will die game!"

"Close up!" roared the Major desperately, as he stood sword in hand, ready to give point. "Stand fast, and let the black-hearted cowards spit themselves upon your bayonets.--What's that?" he cried.

"A fresh body of 'em, sir, coming round to right and left."

"That you with your bad news, Sergeant?" cried the Major half-laughingly. "Good-bye, my lad! Good man! Brave soldier! But we've done our best, and they'll say it was bravely done at home.--Form square! Rally!" he roared, as he now raised his sword on high.--"Well done, subaltern--and you too, boy," he added, as right and left, with lowered rifles, Archie and Peter helped to close him in.