CHAPTER XXVII
THE LAST STAND
The explosion, though terrific, had not the desired effect. Ellertonhad succeeded in lighting the fuse, and was on his way back, when thenatives lowered a rope from the cliffs. No doubt they had observed himon his way to the cave as he rather thoughtlessly showed himself incrossing the base of the projecting spur.
Cunningly two of the savages lowered themselves on to a ledge withintwenty feet of the ground, and on Ellerton's return they hurled a stonewith unerring aim, bringing him senseless to the ground.
Eager to secure his body, the two assailants descended the remainingdistance, and were stooping over the prostrate youth when Quexoappeared on the scene.
A couple of well-directed shots settled their accounts; but themulatto, in rushing to Ellerton's assistance, failed to notice that theedge of the cliff above him swarmed with natives.
Even as he bent over the bodies of Ellerton and his assailants, a spearthrown with terrible force struck him in the back. Hardly knowing whathurt him, the mulatto sprang to his feet, and with his dying strengthdischarged his revolver at one of the blacks who was descending therope, ere he fell across the bodies of the victims of his first twoshots.
This episode had caused the crowd of savages, who had previously beencongregating immediately above the name, to rush to that part of thecliff nearest to the scene of the tragedy, and thus the actualexplosion did not inflict very great damage upon the invaders.Nevertheless the moral result was a good service to the sore-pressedwhite men, for the savages refrained from renewing the attack, andwithdrew to the shelter of the palm-groves.
The approach of night also prolonged the mutual cessation ofhostilities, for the natives dreaded the great flashing beams of lightmore than anything else.
Terence, in spite of himself, fell asleep several times beside thesearchlight, while Andy, weary-eyed and stricken with grief, was keptawake solely by his devotion to his wounded comrade.
Fortunately Ellerton's injuries were not so bad as Mr. McKay had atfirst supposed. The missile had struck him a glancing blow, andalthough reducing him to insensibility, was more of the nature of a cutthan a contusion. There had been a copious flow of blood whichrelieved the pressure on the scalp that a bruise would have otherwisecaused.
Before midnight Ellerton had recovered sufficiently to relate thecircumstances of the affair so far as he knew, although he was ignorantof the actual ambush. Neither did Mr. McKay think fit to tell him atpresent of Quexo's death in his heroic and successful attempt to savehis master from mutilation.
* * * * *
With the return of daylight the savages renewed the attack. Largestones, brought to the brink of the cliff by their stupendous efforts,came crashing down upon the frail defences, till only a small sectionof the barricade midway between the walls of the defile remained intact.
Here Mr. McKay and Terence kept up a continuous but apparentlyineffectual fire, while Ellerton, still weak and showing signs oflight-headedness, did his best with a revolver.
Andy, nearly done up for want of rest, resumed his solitary vigil atthe cliff path, occasionally adding to the fusillade whenever a groupof natives appeared at the edge of the cliff to hurl another of theweighty missiles.
With parched lips and swollen eyes the weary little band continued theunequal combat, almost unable to raise their rifles to their achingshoulders, till, to add to their misfortunes, Andy perceived ten largecanoes rounding the south-eastern promontory of the island.
The natives had at length grasped the importance of a simultaneous rearand frontal attack.
"We must retreat to Blight's cave," exclaimed Mr. McKay, when his sonhad shouted the disheartening intelligence. "Let us hope the explosionhas not closed up the entrance. Pull yourself together, Hoppy! We'vegot to make a rush for it."
"I'm going to stay here--I'm quite comfortable where I am," repliedEllerton 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 otheranxiously. In ordinary circumstances it would have been no easy taskto compel the lad to get up and walk, and with a few hundred savageshanging round, the difficulties were increased tenfold.
"I'll risk it," muttered Mr. McKay. "It's either kill or cure." Andraising his voice he said: "Hoppy, old man, Quexo is missing. He wentto look for you and has not returned."
"What?" exclaimed Ellerton wildly. "Quexo missing? I'll go and lookfor him."
"We are all going," replied Mr. McKay. "Take your rifle and keep withus."
The savages saw the white men deserting the shelter of the barricade,and with shouts of triumph they redoubled the hail of missiles, whilenumbers of them rushed to the head of the defile and thence straightfor the abandoned defences.
Edging cautiously along the base of the cliff, the forlorn little bandcontinued its retreat till Ellerton, who was leading, came across thebody of the faithful mulatto.
For a moment he gazed at the ghastly scene with drawn face and staringeyes; then, his scattered wits returning, he burst into tears.
"Good!" exclaimed Mr. McKay to his son. "That's saved his reason. Buthere they come."
Already the leading pursuers were appearing on the edge of thecliff-path, while others, rushing down the gorge, had scrambled overthe debris of the barricade, and with brandished clubs and spears werecharging down upon their white foes.
"Pick him up, Hoppy; we must not leave him to those fiends," shoutedAndy.
Assisted by Terence, Ellerton raised the body of the mulatto on hisback, and, covered by Mr. McKay and Andy, continued the retreat.
As they reached the scene of the great explosion, they found thatmasses of dislodged boulders extended almost to the edge of the lowercliff. 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 thefence, and look out for us. Andy, we must make a stand here."
"All right, pater," replied his son as he took cover behind aconvenient mass of stones.
The two rifles opened a furious fire upon the advancing natives. Not ashot was thrown away, and although stones and spears whizzed over theirheads or shattered themselves against the sheltering rock, father andson continued to blaze away coolly, and deliberately. The savages, nowmore or less contemptuously familiar with the white men's weapons,hesitated to close in upon the dauntless twain, and, shouting to theirfellows to hasten to help them to wipe out the white men, theycontented themselves with rushing to the right and left in the hope ofsurrounding their foes.
"Stop that chap!" yelled Andy, pointing to a crafty warrior, who wascreeping on all fours up the rocks on Mr. McKay's left.
Barely two inches of the man's head were visible above the shelteringboulder, but those two inches were sufficient. Mr. McKay's riflecracked, and the savage bounded a good three feet in the air to fallupon his face upon the ground.
"They're safe!" shouted Mr. McKay, giving a rapid glance in thedirection of the iron fence. "Now, bolt for it!"
Springing over the remainder of the intervening boulders, father andson ran for shelter. For a brief instant the natives failed tounderstand that their foes were again in retreat; then, to theaccompaniment of a flight of spears, they launched themselves over thelatest line of defence and pressed home the pursuit.
Rifle in hand, Terence and Ellerton stood by the open door to aid theircomrades' retreat; another five yards, then comparative safely.
Suddenly Andy stumbled and fell headlong on the ground, his rifleflying from his grasp; the next instant half-a-dozen natives were uponhim. 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 theweapon clicked harmlessly as Mr. McKay attempted to bring down asecond. The weapon was empty.
/> Throwing the now useless weapon straight into the face of one of thesavages, Mr. McKay stooped to pick up his rifle, a spear just grazinghis shoulder as he did so.
With the strength and fury of a Berserker, he gripped the rifle by thebarrel, and wielding it like a ponderous flail he smote right and left.
At one moment the brass-bound butt crashed with a terrific lunge fullin the tattooed face of a native; at the next it descended withrelentless 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 pursuerscould join in the struggle, the white men were safe within the stockade.
"Don't trouble about the door," shouted Mr. McKay, as Terence was aboutto close and barricade the iron-lined aperture.
Breathlessly the harried fugitives entered the cave, and, holding theirrifles ready for instant use, awaited the arrival of their triumphantfoes.
The door of the fence standing tantalisingly open served a betterpurpose 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 lookedaskance at the mute invitation to enter.
Fears of some other snare, more terrible than those they had alreadyexperienced, 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 keepyour eyes open, and let rip at the first chap who shows his head insidethe door."
There was a touch of irony in Mr. McKay's advice. Want of sleepthreatened to become a more dangerous foe than the savages themselves,and the lads were almost falling asleep as they awaited the nextassault.
All at once Mr. McKay raised his rifle and fired.
A gaudily-decked warrior had so far overcome his fears and doubts as topeer cautiously into the inclosure. His curiosity led to his undoing,for, without knowing what struck him, he slid quietly to the groundwith a bullet through his brain.
But the spell was broken, and with a hideous clamour the natives pouredin through the doorway. Many fell dead or wounded, while otherstripped over their prostrate bodies; but by sheer weight of numbers thefence was overthrown, and over the removed obstruction rushed thebloodthirsty mob.
Seeing that it was impossible to check the flowing tide of warriors asthey sped over the broad expanse, the defenders hurriedly retired intothe farthermost recesses of the cave. Here they were able to commandthe narrow entrance, and with a rapid magazine fire they simply moweddown every savage who showed himself at the mouth of the cave.
At last, disheartened by the obvious impossibility of rushing thedesperate band of white men, the warriors retired, and silence reignedsave 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, scoopedout a shallow trench for the reception of the body of Quexo, who hadbeen killed, and silently the earth was heaped over the still form ofthis their faithful servant and devoted comrade.
"Now turn in for a spell," said Mr. McKay, as the last offices wereperformed. "I'll take the first watch. I think I can keep awake foranother 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 ofthe building were the natives bearing away everything of value, whileothers were demolishing the searchlight, which they evidently regardedas an evil spirit, whose powers were harmless by day. The work ofplunder continued till nothing was left of the dwelling but the barewalls and roof, and presently the building burst into flames.
Hoping against hope, Mr. McKay watched with impotent rage the wantondestruction of the result of so many months of patient toil and energy.
Would the natives be content with their success, and re-embark withtheir booty? Already several of them, laden with spoil, weredescending the cliff-path to their canoes; were the white men to beleft unmolested?
Without thinking of the sore straits to which they would be reduced bythe loss of their home with most of their stores, Mr. McKay waited andwatched. The possibility of a fresh lease of life, even under suchadverse conditions, was infinitely preferable to having to fightdesperately 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 werebearing bundles of sticks and grass.
It was to be a struggle not only against the spears and clubs of thenatives, but against fire and smoke, and Mr. McKay realised that thechoice of the defenders lay between a fight to the death in the open orbeing stifled in the recesses of the cave.