CHAPTER XIII.
LIVELY WHILE IT LASTED.
Really, it seemed as though the Fates were against us in this adventure, since we had to fight most desperately for every small advantage gained.
I had, it may be remembered, more than once fervently longed for some opportunity to prove my valor in the sight of this doubting little woman, so that she might realize how she had wronged me in the past; perhaps it was a childish desire, but a most natural one withal, such as most men would feel under similar conditions.
But, really, I had not expected such a deluge of desperate conditions to overwhelm us, even as the avalanche does the unlucky traveler on the Swiss Alps.
One may even have too much of a good thing.
At least, I thought so when I heard that miserable oar snap, and found the boats of our enemies swooping down upon us.
Robbins made no further effort to escape.
He was like a lion at bay.
I heard him give a roar of rage as he snatched up the boathook and threw its barbed end aloft.
Just as might have been expected, the two boats came up, one on either side, as if the whole thing had been previously arranged.
My first thought was of Hildegarde, fearing she mightreceive some injury in themêléethat was imminent, and surely that feeling did me credit.
“Lie down in the bottom of the boat—quick!”
Now, I could distinctly remember the time, since it was not so far back, when she had absolutely defied my lawful authority, and blankly refused to heed my request.
Not so now, for she seemed to recognize that in this case I not only knew what might be right, but was also in a position to command.
So she crouched down, with the terrified child clasped in her arms, while we two desperate men prepared to put up the best fight we knew how.
And, strangely enough, in that second of time, when there was a breathing space before the arrival of the boats, my strained ears caught a sound that thrilled me with renewed hope—it was the distinct “chug-chug-chug” of a little naphtha engine, and I knew that the launch had set out from the yacht and was bearing down upon us.
If we could only resist this savage attack for a few moments, we were saved.
“Keep back—keep back!” I shouted, as I stood up in the stern and waved my pistol, for I wanted no man’s blood on my hands, if it could possibly be avoided.
Perhaps they understood, for they laughed derisively and pulled wildly on.
It was time to begin.
I had the sole power of bridging the little distance still separating the boats, but which the rapid pace with which they advanced was quickly annihilating.
Again my long practice with a pistol served me a good turn.
My first shot was all right.
I had picked out the fellow who leaned over the bow, like a gaunt harpy, eager to lay hold as they came up andto fasten the boats together, while his companions smothered us with very numbers.
He made quite a fuss over the matter; really, you might have thought he was the recipient of a cannon ball somewhere about his anatomy, instead of a tiny leaden pill.
I knew he was not much to be feared in the coming encounter, and turned to present my further compliments to the fellow who dangled from the bow of the other boat.
Jove! he had a pistol, too, and even as I looked that way, it flashed fire, while the angry bellow rang over the water.
How lucky for us that he had never made it his hobby to do target practice some thousands of times like myself, else would the bullet have found better service than to whistle past our ears, and go ricochetting over the water beyond.
That settled him.
I considered him too dangerous an individual to lose sight of—doubtless, his weapon still contained five shots, and if he kept on blazing away in this reckless manner, who could tell but that one bullet might, by some wonderful accident, do us serious damage.
Such things have happened.
As soon as I had covered this individual, I felt a grim satisfaction, for I knew his name was Dennis, and that he was my game.
He proved to be even more averse to taking his medicine than my first patient, for he floundered around in the boat, whooping it up like a wild Yaqui Indian, and threatened to bring the whole outfit to grief; realizing which, one of the rowers knocked him overboard, and the fellow at the stern dragged him in again, doubtless somewhat cooled by his immersion.
Brief though the time had been which was consumed in this little comedy, or tragedy, as you please, it was enough to bring the boats alongside.
Robbins saw his chance with the boathook to keep one of them at arm’s length, so to speak.
He planted it solidly against the bow of the boat, and effectually blocked its progress, while moving our own craft a little.
This gave me a chance at the other.
There were three fellows besides the cripple.
They saw me crouching there, waiting like a Nemesis for them, and the sight was not at all to their liking.
A couple of them began to yelp dismally, like a dog that sees his finish when the irate master draws near, whip in hand.
Cowards at heart, they would have fled the spot if given a chance; but the battle was now on, and even rats at bay are to be feared.
The third fellow proved to have more sand, for he made a wicked lunge at me with his oar, and only that I threw up my left arm, I must have received a blow on the cranium that, following the first, might have done for me entirely.
As it was, I would have a sore arm for some time to come, and might thank my lucky stars that it had not been broken, for he made a vicious blow.
Thankful for past favors, I returned him a Roland for his Oliver, for I fired when he was only five feet from the muzzle of my pistol, and it did not require target practice then to bring down my bird.
Instead of shooting the other two howling dervishes in the boat, I bent over, seized an oar from the craft, and then gave the latter a vigorous push that sent it far off.
Thus had I, single handed, gained the mastery over one of the hostile boats.
Robbins needed help. He was embroiled in a desperate hand-to-hand struggle with the other chaps.
Probably they had seized upon his boathook and drawnalongside in that way; I do not know just how it was done, but when I turned, after my successful little crusade, I found the whole three were reaching out for the mate, and threatening to come aboard.
The captured oar was in my hands, and surely I knew only too well what misery it was capable of producing when properly applied.
My stout ashen weapon, as I expected, served to create a diversion among the ranks of the enemy.
The first man who sampled its qualities went down in the bottom of the boat in a heap, to mingle his groans and swear words with the fellow who sat wildly feeling here and there over the whole surface of his anatomy, endeavoring to discover where my bullet had lodged.
I think there must have been magic in the ashen blade, it seemed to so promptly cure the maniac qualities of all to whom it was applied, so that they underwent an instantaneous change, and became almost angels.
That left two. Surely, we could manage them.
Robbins was giving one some severe treatment when I turned my batteries on the remaining chap.
This time I merely planted the end of my oar against the pit of his stomach, and then applied some strength in a sudden shove. He staggered back, tripped over a thwart, or the two moaning fellows in the bottom of the boat, and measured his length there with a most ominous crash.
So successful had been this method of attack that I persisted in applying it; when you have a good thing, it is wise to push it along.
I managed this time to get the oar against the side of the boat, upon which I worked with such earnestness of purpose that it was pushed away from the craft we occupied.
And this brought about another unluckycontretempsfor the enemy. Robbins had a grip on the last of them, and seemed loath to let go until he found he was dragging the chap over the side; then, when he did release his clutch, the fellow having no hold on either boat, fell between them into the tide.
This was the last of the Mohicans—the coast seemed clear, though the third boat, heavily laden, was coming up with a rush.
We did not mean to wait for them.
For my part, I had had quite enough of the scramble, and longed to rest my aching head on a pillow.
At once I passed the captured oar into Robbins’ hands, and he dropped back into his seat.
Then, as we began to move again, I noticed the crouching figures in the bottom of the boat, and my heart filled with pity. I cried:
“Have no further fear, Hildegarde. We are safe!”