CHAPTER XXII

MORE FEARFUL FIGHTING-GOLDEN GULCH

"A SHIP! A SHIP!"

FOREWARNED is, or ought to be, forearmed. Nevertheless, it must be confessed that Dickson and the others greatly dreaded an attack by savages under cover of the moonless darkness of a tropical night. All was done that could be done to repel the fury of the onslaught. But come it must and would.

Just as the sun was sinking behind the western mountains, amidst lurid and threatening clouds, a happy thought occurred to one of the sailors.

"Sir," he said to Dickson, "the darkness will be our greatest foe, will it not?

"Certainly. If these demon cannibals would but show front in daylight we could easily

disperse them, as we did before. Have you any plans, M'Gregor?"

"I'm only a humble sailor," said M'Gregor, "but my advice is this. We can trust the honest blacks we have here within the fort?"

"Yes."

"Well, let them throw up a bit of sand cover for themselves down here on the beach and by the sea. Each man should wear a bit of white cotton around his arm, that we may be able to distinguish friend from foe. you follow me, sir?"

Do

Good, M'Gregor. Go on."

"Well, captain, the cannibals are certain to make direct for the barracks and attempt to scale as they did before. I will go in command of our twenty black soldiers, and just as you pour in your withering grape and rifle bullets we shall attack from the rear, or flank, rather, and thus I do not doubt we shall once more beat them off."

"Good again, my lad; but remember we cannot aim in the darkness."

"That can be provided against. We have plenty of tarry wood here, and we can cut down the still standing brush, and making two huge bonfires, deluge the whole with

kerosene when we hear the beggars coming and near at hand. Thus shall you have light to fight."

"M'Gregor, my lad, I think you have saved the fort and our lives.

your men and proceed to duty.

Get ready Or, stay.

While they still are at their terrible feast and dancing round the fires, you may remain inside."

"Thanks, sir, thanks."

The men had supper at eleven o'clock and a modicum of rum each. The British sailor needs no Dutch courage on the day of battle.

The distant fires burnt on till midnight. Then, by means of his night-glass, Dickson could see the tall chieftain was mustering his men for the charge.

Half an hour later they came on with fiendish shouts and howling. Then brave M'Gregor and his men left the barracks and hid in the darkling to the left and low down on the sands.

The enemy advanced from the right. Their

P

chief was evidently a poor soldier, or he would have caused them to steal as silently as panthers upon the fort. When within a hundred yards, Dickson at one side and Reginald at the other, each accompanied by

man carrying a keg of kerosene, issued forth at the back door.

In three minutes more the flames sprang up as if by magic. They leaped in great white tongues of fire up the rock sides, from which the rays were reflected, so that all round the camp was as bright as day.

The astonished savages, however, came on like a whirlwind, till within twenty yards of the brae on which stood the fort. Then Mr. Hall, the brave and imperturbable Yankee, "gave them fits," as he termed it. He trained a gun on them and fired it pointblank. The yells and awful howlings of rage and pain told how well the grape had done its deadly work, and that many had fallen never to rise again.

The tall, skin-clad chief now waved his spear aloft, and shouted to his men, pointing at the fort. That dark cloud was a mass of frenzied savages now. They leaped quickly over their dead and wounded, and rushed for the hill. But they were an easy mark,

and once again both guns riddled their ranks. They would not be denied even yet.

But lo! while still but half way up the hill, to their astonishment and general demoralisation, they were attacked by a terrible rifle fire from the flank. Again and again those rifles cracked, and at so close a range that the attacking party fell dead in twos and threes.

But not until two more shots were fired from the fort, not until the giant chief was seen to throw up his arms and fall dead in his tracks, did they hurriedly rush back helterskelter, and seek safety in flight.

The black riflemen had no mercy on their brother-islanders. Their blood was up. So was M'Gregor's, and they pursued the enemy, pouring in volley after volley until the darkness swallowed them up.

The slaughter had been immense. The camp was molested no more. But at daybreak it was observed that no cloud hung any longer on the volcanic peak. The savages were still grouped in hundreds around their now relighted fires, and it was evident a new feast was in preparation.

But something still more strange now happened. Accompanied by two gigantic spear