Quexo's warning was only too true. Less than a mile from the reef the sea was dotted with the brown mat sails of a large fleet of native craft all heading for the island.
"Forty canoes at least, by Jove!" ejaculated Mr. McKay. "And taking twenty men to each—a low average—that means there are eight hundred of the wretches making straight for us."
"It's long odds," replied Ellerton grimly, "but we'll do our best, and perhaps we may find a means of driving them off."
"I should have thought the last little surprise would have settled them. We must give them credit for their persistence. There's one thing to our advantage, though; it's a day attack, and we are more or less prepared for it. But what are they up to now?"
The advancing canoes had now reached the entrance to the lagoon, and, with marvellous precision, their sails were lowered, and the crews took to their paddles. Then, instead of heading straight for the beach, the whole flotilla turned its course parallel with the shore.
"That's bad," remarked Mr. McKay, pausing in the act of dragging a box of ammunition from the house to the stockade. "They have learnt a lesson, and now they mean to take us on the flank or in the rear. Come on, lads, there's no time to be lost. We must follow them and see if we can prevent them landing."
Fortunately the savages' idea of strategy was not very advanced. Instead of keeping one section of their fleet for the purpose of making a feint or a frontal attack while the other canoes skirted the island, the whole of the boats kept together.
Loaded with ammunition-belts and carrying their rifles, the little band of defenders toiled up the path leading to the interior till they reached the summit of the cliffs overlooking the house. Then, bearing away to the left, they hastened to keep pace with their savage invaders.
Through the palm-groves, fighting their way between patches of thick, prickly scrub, Mr. McKay and his companions continued their wearisome march, till, from the summit of the ridge that separated their bay from the one where they had first landed, they saw that the hostile canoes had gained considerably.
The usually calm waters of the lagoon were broken into thousands of ripples by the swift-moving craft, while the cliffs re-echoed to the regular beats of their paddles. Yet, without attempting to land on that part of the shore, the savages continued their roundabout voyage.
"It's no use going any farther," gasped Mr. McKay breathlessly. "We are only tiring ourselves out to no purpose. A hundred well-armed men would be powerless to prevent them landing."
"Then what's to be done?"
"We must return to the house and make every possible use of the few hours that as yet remain to us. I quite admit I have been guilty of a serious error of omission. While paying great attention to our seaward defences, we have entirely neglected the landward approach."
On return to the terrace on which stood the dwelling-house and the power-station, the already wearied defenders immediately set to work to fortify the approach from the interior of the island.
Sixty yards from the house began the narrow defile that afforded a road between the settlement and the treasure cave. On either side the cliffs towered to nearly one hundred feet, so that once the savages took possession of those heights the terrace could not be held.
"I suppose we cannot launch one of the canoes, provision her, and make a dash for safety?" asked Terence.
"It's too risky," replied Mr. McKay. "If seen, we should be overhauled in less than half-an-hour. No, we must stick to this place and hold it to the last, so let's set to at once."
With the energy of despair all hands worked with feverish desperation, their loaded rifles lying within easy reach, while every moment they expected to hear the savage shouts of their bloodthirsty foes.
Across the foot of the defile they dug a shallow trench, lining the inner side with boxes, crates, and other articles so as to form a barricade. It was a feeble defence at the most, but with five skilled riflemen armed with modern rifles behind it, the breastwork might serve its purpose.
To guard against a shower of missiles from the summit of the adjacent cliffs, a lean-to roof of stout planks was hastily constructed, earth being thrown upon it to deaden the shock of heavy stones, while the remaining boxes of ammunition were brought up so that the supply was ready to hand.
"Look here, Quexo," said Mr. McKay, "go to the stockade at the top of the cliff-path, and keep watch. Don't move, whatever happens, till we call you, even if you hear us firing; but if you see any signs of the savages landing on the beach, fire your rifle. You understand?"
"Yas, massa," replied the mulatto, and snatching up his rifle he ran to his appointed post as quickly as his legs could carry him.
"We mustn't forget water and provisions, Ellerton," said Mr. McKay. "They must be brought ready to hand, for if the fighting is prolonged we will have no time to go to the house for food and drink."
"I'll bring some biscuits and water," replied Ellerton. "I remember how dry I was during the last attack. But, do you know, sir, I begin to feel quite hopeful, now our defences are completed."
"It's certainly improved the situation, Hoppy," replied Mr. McKay. "But we've a tough job in front of us. Eight or nine hundred savages, each eager for a fight and keen on plundering us. We must not be over-confident. But now cut off and get the provisions and water."
Ellerton quickly performed his task, and, having placed the water and biscuits in the spot indicated by Mr. McKay, he observed:
"It's a pity we can't use some of that dynamite again."
"We cannot make the trucks run up hill, and, besides, there are no rails, if that's what you mean."
"No, sir, I know that," was the reply, "but I thought that if we could place a few tins of the stuff on those rocks we could easily manage to put a bullet through them at two hundred yards."
"By all means we'll try it," said Mr. McKay heartily. "As I've often said, you're a brick."
Accordingly Ellerton ran to the cave where the explosive was stored, and returned at a walking pace with nearly forty pounds of the dangerous compound.
"Don't use all of it," said Mr. McKay. "Here, take these three tins; they'll be a better mark for us."
Into each of the metal boxes Ellerton placed about ten pounds of the explosive, adding a few handfuls of iron, nails, and bits of scrap metal. Then, climbing over the breastwork, he was handed the rough-and-ready bombs.
Thus laden he cautiously made his way up the rough defile till he reached a spot about two hundred yards from the defenders' position.
Here a mass of fallen rock, the highest part ten feet in height, formed a suitable site for his operations, and without mishap the tin canisters were placed in such a position that they could readily be seen above the heads of any number of savages likely to come between them and the defences.
Meanwhile Mr. McKay was busily engaged in preparing a number of hand-bombs, charging several small tins with explosive mixed with nails, and lashing a short length of thin rope securely to each completed missile.
"I'm going to place these things here," said he, pointing to a small cleft in the cliff. "Be careful not to knock them, or we shall punish ourselves."
"How are you going to throw them?" asked Ellerton, who had meanwhile returned from his expedition. "If they fall too close they will do us harm, and I don't think they can be thrown more than the length of a cricket-pitch."
"By this," replied Mr. McKay, holding up a short stick with a notch cut in one end. "I lay the rope along the stick and jam its end between the palm of my hand and the wood. By swinging the stick a greatly increased power is obtained; at the right moment the cord is released and the bomb flies off at a tangent."
"I see," replied Ellerton, and although he had great faith in Mr. McKay, he found himself wondering what the result would be did the missile not fly off at the correct tangent.
Slowly the hours dragged, for, all the preparations for the defence being completed, the tedious and nerve-racking ordeal of waiting for the fray told more upon the energies of the defenders than would the actual fight.
The sun was sinking low ere the alert watchers detected the distant shouts of the savages.
"They've found the trail leading to the cave, I fancy," remarked Mr. McKay. "They'll be here before dark, unless I'm much mistaken. Terence, you had better start the dynamo and see that the searchlight is ready for use. Tell Quexo to come here and take your place. You must take sole charge of the seaward side of our defences. Now, listen: whatever you do, don't train the searchlight this way till I discharge my rifle. Keep the rays playing on the shore, and occasionally flash the beam skywards. It may bring us aid. When you hear the shot, slew the projector round and direct the beam straight up the defile. You quite understand?"
"Yes, sir," replied Terence. "You can rely upon me."
"I feel sure of it," was the quiet reply, as the lad set off on his responsible and single-handed task.
"It will soon be dark," said Ellerton. "That will be all the better for us, for these brutes won't find their way so easily."
"I don't think the darkness will stop them, provided they are not afraid of it. These savages can find their way by night like cats. Hullo, Quexo, tired, eh?"
"No, massa, not berry tired. One eye he go sleep, den oder eye he go sleep."
"Quexo means to go to sleep with one eye open," said Andy. "We ought to take a leaf from his book."
"Yes, we'll feel the want of sleep as much as anything," replied his father. "Once the attack opens there will be little respite. It wouldn't be a bad idea if you three were to snatch a few moments' rest. I'll wake you up in time, never fear."
This advice was acted upon, Andy, Ellerton, and Quexo stretching themselves out on the ground at the foot of the barricade, and in a few minutes, in spite of their risky position, the lads were sleeping soundly.
Night had now fallen, and the ghostly white beams of the searchlight swept the shore, the noise of the distant surf mingling with the subdued fizzing of the carbons as Terence diligently attended to the working of the projector.
The far-off shouts of the savages had now ceased. Probably the invaders, satisfied with the success of their unopposed landing, were awaiting the dawn ere they commenced their attack.
Silence, when intent upon a hand-to-hand conflict, was a stranger to them, and for this Mr. McKay was thankful, since few things are more trying than the expectation of a sudden onslaught by an unseen and unheard foe.
Notwithstanding this peculiarity on the part of the invaders, Mr. McKay did not for one moment relax his vigilance. Rifle in hand he stood, rarely altering his position, and gazed stedfastly in the direction of the defile, his ears alert for the faintest footfall or shout that might denote the approach of the bloodthirsty savages.
Although the defenders were cut off from their carefully prepared retreat in the treasure cave, another shelter yet remained. The cavern where Blight had been kept a prisoner had been since used as a temporary storehouse for several casks of provisions. As a last resource it could be held, possibly for a month.
But if the natives took the island and showed no disposition to leave, after having plundered the white man's possessions, even that refuge would be a means of only prolonging the sufferings of the defenders.
Hopeful as he generally was, Mr. McKay fully realised that he and his companions were in a very tight fix, and unless the skill and resource of civilisation could overcome the superior numbers and reckless courage of the savages, nothing short of a timely rescue would save the defenders from death.
Then Mr. McKay found himself counting the number of days which had elapsed since the French schooner had exchanged signals with the island. Even allowing for light winds and calms she would have had time to reach some port, and, should the captain keep his word, a gunboat or at least a trading vessel might be on her way to the rescue.
Mr. McKay's thoughts were interrupted by a loud chorus of savage shouts at no great distance, then came the confused noise of scuffling feet tearing down the defile.
"Up with you," he shouted.
But the warning was unnecessary, for the three lads, awakened by the noise, were already standing to their arms.
"It's the sheep!" exclaimed Ellerton.
"The savages have frightened them, and they are running this way for shelter," said Andy. "That means that the natives will soon be at their heels."
The terrified sheep continued their flight till they found their advance checked by the barricade, and in a confused, struggling mass they herded into the corner formed by the breastwork and the adjoining cliff, their loud baa-ing adding to the confusion.
Then upon the brow of the rise at the end of the defile appeared a multitude of lights, and with fierce shouts the savages tore down the rough inclined path straight for the barricade.
WITH FIERCE SHOUTS THE SAVAGES TORE DOWN THE PATH STRAIGHT FOR THE BARRICADEWITH FIERCE SHOUTS THE SAVAGES TORE DOWNTHE PATH STRAIGHT FOR THE BARRICADE
WITH FIERCE SHOUTS THE SAVAGES TORE DOWN THE PATH STRAIGHT FOR THE BARRICADEWITH FIERCE SHOUTS THE SAVAGES TORE DOWNTHE PATH STRAIGHT FOR THE BARRICADE
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!
The explosion, though terrific, had not the desired effect. Ellerton had succeeded in lighting the fuse, and was on his way back, when the natives lowered a rope from the cliffs. No doubt they had observed him on his way to the cave as he rather thoughtlessly showed himself in crossing the base of the projecting spur.
Cunningly two of the savages lowered themselves on to a ledge within twenty feet of the ground, and on Ellerton's return they hurled a stone with unerring aim, bringing him senseless to the ground.
Eager to secure his body, the two assailants descended the remaining distance, and were stooping over the prostrate youth when Quexo appeared on the scene.
A couple of well-directed shots settled their accounts; but the mulatto, in rushing to Ellerton's assistance, failed to notice that the edge of the cliff above him swarmed with natives.
Even as he bent over the bodies of Ellerton and his assailants, a spear thrown with terrible force struck him in the back. Hardly knowing what hurt him, the mulatto sprang to his feet, and with his dying strength discharged his revolver at one of the blacks who was descending the rope, ere he fell across the bodies of the victims of his first two shots.
This episode had caused the crowd of savages, who had previously been congregating immediately above the mine, to rush to that part of the cliff nearest to the scene of the tragedy, and thus the actual explosion did not inflict very great damage upon the invaders. Nevertheless the moral result was a good service to the sore-pressed white men, for the savages refrained from renewing the attack, and withdrew to the shelter of the palm-groves.
The approach of night also prolonged the mutual cessation of hostilities, for the natives dreaded the great flashing beams of light more than anything else.
Terence, in spite of himself, fell asleep several times beside the searchlight, while Andy, weary-eyed and stricken with grief, was kept awake solely by his devotion to his wounded comrade.
Fortunately Ellerton's injuries were not so bad as Mr. McKay had at first supposed. The missile had struck him a glancing blow, and although reducing him to insensibility, was more of the nature of a cut than a contusion. There had been a copious flow of blood which relieved the pressure on the scalp that a bruise would have otherwise caused.
Before midnight Ellerton had recovered sufficiently to relate the circumstances of the affair so far as he knew, although he was ignorant of the actual ambush. Neither did Mr. McKay think fit to tell him at present of Quexo's death in his heroic and successful attempt to save his master from mutilation.
*****
With the return of daylight the savages renewed the attack. Large stones, brought to the brink of the cliff by their stupendous efforts, came crashing down upon the frail defences, till only a small section of the barricade midway between the walls of the defile remained intact.
Here Mr. McKay and Terence kept up a continuous but apparently ineffectual fire, while Ellerton, still weak and showing signs of light-headedness, did his best with a revolver.
Andy, nearly done up for want of rest, resumed his solitary vigil at the cliff path, occasionally adding to the fusillade whenever a group of natives appeared at the edge of the cliff to hurl another of the weighty missiles.
With parched lips and swollen eyes the weary little band continued the unequal combat, almost unable to raise their rifles to their aching shoulders, till, to add to their misfortunes, Andy perceived ten large canoes rounding the south-eastern promontory of the island.
The natives had at length grasped the importance of a simultaneous rear and frontal attack.
"We must retreat to Blight's cave," exclaimed Mr. McKay, when his son had shouted the disheartening intelligence. "Let us hope the explosion has not closed up the entrance. Pull yourself together, Hoppy! We've got to make a rush for it."
"I'm going to stay here—I'm quite comfortable where I am," replied Ellerton with astonishing determination.
"But you can't, man; you'll be cut to pieces in less than a minute."
But Ellerton refused to move. His comrades looked at each other anxiously. In ordinary circumstances it would have been no easy task to compel the lad to get up and walk, and with a few hundred savages hanging round, the difficulties were increased tenfold.
"I'll risk it," muttered Mr. McKay. "It's either kill or cure." And raising his voice he said: "Hoppy, old man, Quexo is missing. He went to look for you and has not returned."
"What?" exclaimed Ellerton wildly. "Quexo missing? I'll go and look for him."
"We are all going," replied Mr. McKay. "Take your rifle and keep with us."
The savages saw the white men deserting the shelter of the barricade, and with shouts of triumph they redoubled the hail of missiles, while numbers of them rushed to the head of the defile and thence straight for the abandoned defences.
Edging cautiously along the base of the cliff, the forlorn little band continued its retreat till Ellerton, who was leading, came across the body of the faithful mulatto.
For a moment he gazed at the ghastly scene with drawn face and staring eyes; then, his scattered wits returning, he burst into tears.
"Good!" exclaimed Mr. McKay to his son. "That's saved his reason. But here they come."
Already the leading pursuers were appearing on the edge of the cliff-path, while others, rushing down the gorge, had scrambled over the debris of the barricade, and with brandished clubs and spears were charging down upon their white foes.
"Pick him up, Hoppy; we must not leave him to those fiends," shouted Andy.
Assisted by Terence, Ellerton raised the body of the mulatto on his back, and, covered by Mr. McKay and Andy, continued the retreat.
As they reached the scene of the great explosion, they found that masses of dislodged boulders extended almost to the edge of the lower cliff. Slowly Ellerton and Terence bore their burden over the rough, rock-strewn ground, the savages meanwhile gaining upon them rapidly.
"Keep going at any cost," shouted Mr. McKay. "Gain the door of the fence, and look out for us. Andy, we must make a stand here."
"All right, pater," replied his son as he took cover behind a convenient mass of stones.
The two rifles opened a furious fire upon the advancing natives. Not a shot was thrown away, and although stones and spears whizzed over their heads or shattered themselves against the sheltering rock, father and son continued to blaze away coolly, and deliberately. The savages, now more or less contemptuously familiar with the white men's weapons, hesitated to close in upon the dauntless twain, and, shouting to their fellows to hasten to help them to wipe out the white men, they contented themselves with rushing to the right and left in the hope of surrounding their foes.
"Stop that chap!" yelled Andy, pointing to a crafty warrior, who was creeping on all fours up the rocks on Mr. McKay's left.
Barely two inches of the man's head were visible above the sheltering boulder, but those two inches were sufficient. Mr. McKay's rifle cracked, and the savage bounded a good three feet in the air to fall upon his face upon the ground.
"They're safe!" shouted Mr. McKay, giving a rapid glance in the direction of the iron fence. "Now, bolt for it!"
Springing over the remainder of the intervening boulders, father and son ran for shelter. For a brief instant the natives failed to understand that their foes were again in retreat; then, to the accompaniment of a flight of spears, they launched themselves over the latest line of defence and pressed home the pursuit.
Rifle in hand, Terence and Ellerton stood by the open door to aid their comrades' retreat; another five yards, then comparative safely.
Suddenly Andy stumbled and fell headlong on the ground, his rifle flying from his grasp; the next instant half-a-dozen natives were upon him. Without a moment's hesitation, Mr. McKay faced about, and, drawing his revolver, fired.
At the first report one of the pursuers fell; but the hammer of the weapon clicked harmlessly as Mr. McKay attempted to bring down a second. The weapon was empty.
Throwing the now useless weapon straight into the face of one of the savages, Mr. McKay stooped to pick up his rifle, a spear just grazing his shoulder as he did so.
With the strength and fury of a Berserker, he gripped the rifle by the barrel, and wielding it like a ponderous flail he smote right and left.
At one moment the brass-bound butt crashed with a terrific lunge full in the tattooed face of a native; at the next it descended with relentless force upon the skull of another.
Then Ellerton's rifle cracked and Terence's revolver added to the din. The blacks seemed to melt away; and ere the main body of the pursuers could join in the struggle, the white men were safe within the stockade.
"Don't trouble about the door," shouted Mr. McKay, as Terence was about to close and barricade the iron-lined aperture.
Breathlessly the harried fugitives entered the cave, and, holding their rifles ready for instant use, awaited the arrival of their triumphant foes.
The door of the fence standing tantalisingly open served a better purpose than if it had been closed and barred. Had it been secured, the savages would soon have battered it in by sheer weight of numbers; but even in the heat of the pursuit the natives paused and looked askance at the mute invitation to enter.
Fears of some other snare, more terrible than those they had already experienced, held them in a spell-bound grip.
The temporary check gave the defenders a chance of much-needed rest.
"Now, lads," exclaimed Mr. McKay, "we are safe enough for the present. A thousand of the wretches couldn't rush us in this place. But keep your eyes open, and let rip at the first chap who shows his head inside the door."
There was a touch of irony in Mr. McKay's advice. Want of sleep threatened to become a more dangerous foe than the savages themselves, and the lads were almost falling asleep as they awaited the next assault.
All at once Mr. McKay raised his rifle and fired.
A gaudily-decked warrior had so far overcome his fears and doubts as to peer cautiously into the inclosure. His curiosity led to his undoing, for, without knowing what struck him, he slid quietly to the ground with a bullet through his brain.
But the spell was broken, and with a hideous clamour the natives poured in through the doorway. Many fell dead or wounded, while others tripped over their prostrate bodies; but by sheer weight of numbers the fence was overthrown, and over the removed obstruction rushed the bloodthirsty mob.
Seeing that it was impossible to check the flowing tide of warriors as they sped over the broad expanse, the defenders hurriedly retired into the farthermost recesses of the cave. Here they were able to command the narrow entrance, and with a rapid magazine fire they simply mowed down every savage who showed himself at the mouth of the cave.
At last, disheartened by the obvious impossibility of rushing the desperate band of white men, the warriors retired, and silence reigned save for the moans of the wounded who littered the floor of the cavern.
Worn out as they were, the four defenders, as soon as possible, scooped out a shallow trench for the reception of the body of Quexo, who had been killed, and silently the earth was heaped over the still form of this their faithful servant and devoted comrade.
"Now turn in for a spell," said Mr. McKay, as the last offices were performed. "I'll take the first watch. I think I can keep awake for another couple of hours."
Vainly protesting, the lads obeyed and were soon asleep.
Shouldering his rifle, Mr. McKay walked as far as the overthrown fence, whence he could command a view of the house. Swarming in and out of the building were the natives bearing away everything of value, while others were demolishing the searchlight, which they evidently regarded as an evil spirit, whose powers were harmless by day. The work of plunder continued till nothing was left of the dwelling but the bare walls and roof, and presently the building burst into flames.
Hoping against hope, Mr. McKay watched with impotent rage the wanton destruction of the result of so many months of patient toil and energy.
Would the natives be content with their success, and re-embark with their booty? Already several of them, laden with spoil, were descending the cliff-path to their canoes; were the white men to be left unmolested?
Without thinking of the sore straits to which they would be reduced by the loss of their home with most of their stores, Mr. McKay waited and watched. The possibility of a fresh lease of life, even under such adverse conditions, was infinitely preferable to having to fight desperately to the last.
But his hopes were doomed to failure.
A strong body of savages began to ascend the slope leading to the cave, and, to his consternation, the watcher perceived that many of them were bearing bundles of sticks and grass.
It was to be a struggle not only against the spears and clubs of the natives, but against fire and smoke, and Mr. McKay realised that the choice of the defenders lay between a fight to the death in the open or being stifled in the recesses of the cave.