Grape-shot from the smaller guns or musketry from the marines would have destroyed numbers of the Malays struggling in the water, but looking upon them as out of the fight, Lieutenant Johnson left them to struggle, some to one bank, some to the other, and gave his orders merely to the men at the great guns.

It was one from the port-side that had wrought this mischief. Now one from the starboard spoke out. There was once more the great white ball of smoke, the deafening roar, and the shot struck the water about twenty yards from the nearest prahu, ricochetted, and pa.s.sed clean through her, going down the river afterwards in a series of richochets.

This shot caused no little confusion on board, and several of the sweeps fell uselessly in the water; but the prahu still came on, with the occupants yelling and beating their gongs.

Another shot struck the water, and though well aimed for the next prahu, it rose and went over her, merely making a great gap in the matting-screen from behind which the Malays were keeping up a brisk but ineffectual fire.

Another shot at one of the prahus coming down stream; and this went clean over, and crashed through the palm-trees a quarter of a mile away.

But the next shot produced a hearty cheer from the sailors, for it struck the slight vessel right on the water-line, made a tremendous gap, and must have caused terrible slaughter, for the Malays were thrown into confusion, the sweeps clashed one with the other, and all governance seemed gone, the prahu turning broadside on, and then floating slowly with the stream for a few yards before settling down and sinking, leaving her masts and the top of the mat screens visible, for the water was shallow where she sank.

The two prahus coming down stream were thus effectually disposed of; but the two coming up were now close at hand, and before another gun could be brought to bear their bows struck the sides of the steamer, grappling-irons were thrown over the bulwarks and into the chains, and yelling savagely their crews of fierce fighting men came swarming upon the deck.

It was sharp work leaving the guns and preparing for the boarders; but the sailors and marines were ready, and received the fierce, yelling crowd of Malays with a sharp fire and the point of the bayonet, while these latter attacked fiercely with kris and spear. Their charge was most daring, and they came on in such numbers, and fought with so great a display of courage, that the little party of Englishmen, in spite of their heroic defence, were driven back step by step, till Lieutenant Johnson began to bitterly regret that he had not signalled for help from the fort.

His heart sank within him as, in spite of his bravery and the example he set his men he saw them giving way on all sides.

Bob Roberts, young as he was, fought bravely and well, while Ali did good service with his rifle. But all seemed in vain; the Malays were gradually getting possession of the deck, and the question was arising in the lieutenant's mind whether it would not be wiser to take refuge in the cabin, and fire from thence as they could.

Men fell rapidly on either side, but while the Malays had three or four to leap into the places of those who went down, every wounded Englishman weakened the force terribly by his loss.

Still there was no sign of flinching, the men giving way solely from being forced back by the numbers that pressed upon them.

Three times over by a determined rally did the lieutenant strive to force the enemy back, but in vain; and the last time he nearly lost his life, for the Malays made at him at once, and in his efforts to avoid them he slipped and fell.

With a yell of triumph a couple of the enemy dashed at him spear in hand, when there was a sharp double report from a rifle, and one leaped in the air to fall flat on the deck beside his intended victim, the other staggered back and retreated to the rear.

Those shots were fired by the young chief Ali, who coolly reloaded his piece, and stood watching Bob Roberts, whose excitement was intense.

He had forgotten d.i.c.k and his instructions to the old sailor in the fierce pa.s.sions of the fray, and poor old d.i.c.k had gone down almost at the first rush, to crawl afterwards under the bulwarks, where he bound up his head, and lay watching the fight as he strove more than once to join in.

But each time old d.i.c.k essayed to rise, a terrible sickness came over him, and he sank back trying to recall some order he had received from the midshipman, but unable to make out what it was.

He fainted away twice in his efforts to get up, and then lay back, sick at heart, and with just enough consciousness left to know that the fight was going against the English, and that he had it in his power to change the fortunes of the day.

"What was it Mr Roberts told him to do? What was it Mr Roberts told him to do?"

That was the question he wanted solved, but the sense had all seemed to escape out of the cut in his head, so he told himself, and the more he tried to recall what it was, the more did he grow confused, and at last he lay there helpless, listening to the yelling of the Malays, and the cheers and shouts of the comrades he could not help.

He could see clearly enough all that was going on, and feel bitterly every phase of ill fortune in the fight, while he regretted the powerless state in which he lay as he saw some companion worsted by the enemy.

"If I could only think what it was Mr Roberts told me to do, I might do it now," he muttered, "and that would help the poor lads."

His head was growing clearer, though, and he became more and more excited as he saw sailors, marines, and officers driven back, step by step, along the deck, with the prospect before them of being slain to a man, and the steamer taken.

That idea was horrible to d.i.c.k, and he thought of the captain, officers, and men away in the jungle, and what would be their feelings when they returned.

"If I could only help!" thought d.i.c.k. "Bravo, lad! Why he fights like a man," he muttered; "and there's that Mr Ali using his gun wonderfully, and him only a n.i.g.g.e.r; while I lie here with my orders on me, and do nothing to help my mates. Oh, if I only had strength," he groaned.

Still the fight went on, and to his horror Lieutenant Johnson saw that another prahu and a naga or dragon-boat were coming up to the attack, while in place of being able to repel them with a few shots from his guns, he and his men were hemmed-in by quite a mob of yelling Malays, every one of whom was thirsting for the Englishmen's blood.

All at once, in the thick of the fight, and just as he was panting, and too helpless to deliver another stroke, Bob Roberts recalled for a moment the orders he had given old d.i.c.k. But he felt that it was too late now, and stung by the disgrace of their position, he tried to reload his revolver, wondering whether Lieutenant Johnson would execute his threat of blowing up the ship.

Had the lieutenant been ever so disposed, though, he could not have accomplished his design, for a living wall of Malays was between him and the way down to the magazine, and he was weak and spent with his efforts, to such an extent that he could hardly raise his sword.

"It is all over," he thought to himself, "but we'll die fighting like Englishmen. Oh, my poor lads," he groaned, "my poor lads!" And he wondered whether he could have done anything else to lead them to victory, instead of this bitter defeat.

It did indeed seem to be all over, for the fresh boats had reached the steamer, and their men were swarming over the side, when suddenly the remembrance of his orders flashed across old d.i.c.k's clouded brain, bringing with it renewed strength, for the faintness seemed to be driven away.

Abdullah, or rather Rajah Gantang, saw the fresh forces arriving, and he shouted to them to come on, stepping back half-a-dozen yards, and then leaping on to one of the wired skylights, kris in hand.

Close beside him he saw a rough old wounded sailor s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g on something bright that looked like a copper pipe, and then seize hold of an iron spanner; and out of sheer thirst for blood the rajah, after waving to the new comers to come on, made a leap down at the old sailor, who faced him with what seemed to the rajah like a copper gun, presented, and fired--

No, that's wrong, he watered; for Bob Roberts' commands were at last executed, and a shower of scalding water from the boilers was sent by means of the hose and branch full in the rajah's face, driving him away yelling with agony, as d.i.c.k made a dash along the deck, the hose trailing after him, took the Malays in flank just as they were making their final dash at the hemmed-in defenders of the vessel, and the fortunes of the day were changed.

_Whizz, squish_, out flew the steaming water in a scalding shower, and in an instant the fierce crowd of Malays were turned into a set of agonised, dancing, maniacs, a dozen of them turning furiously on d.i.c.k, and rushing at him, kris and spear in hand; but with a grim smile on his rough visage, old d.i.c.k gave the copper branch a waving motion, and the scalding shower stopped the fiercest of them, drove them back, and as they fled the fresh party summoned by the rajah came running along the deck.

d.i.c.k did not flinch, but mentally praying that the supply might hold out, delivered the stream full in their faces as they came yelling up, and after a brave effort to withstand it for a few moments, sending them back, crushed and beaten, stamping, shrieking, leaping overboard, making frantic efforts to escape the pain, while d.i.c.k steadily followed them up, playing the boiling water amongst them, and literally cleaning the decks, amidst the cheering of the men.

"Quick there," cried Lieutenant Johnson, "A man there at the wheel--two!

quick! two! She's afloat. Down there in the engine-room," he shouted, as he mounted the bridge, for a breeze had sprung up, and the mud that clung round the steamer's keel having been loosened by the firing, the motion of the vessel, and the pressure on the sails, the corvette had, unperceived, been afloat some minutes, and slowly floating down stream.

In another few seconds she was under full command; and as the men flew to the guns, the lieutenant took deadly revenge upon his fierce enemies by manoeuvring the steamer so that, in spite of the efforts of her crew with their sweeps; he literally sent her over the biggest of the three prahus, the stem of the steamer cutting it in two as if it had been made of paper, and then sinking the naga by a well-directed shot, the crews of both swimming easily towards the sh.o.r.e.

By this time the other two prahus were in full retreat up stream, evidently from a belief that the steamer would not follow; but in spite of his mishap in running aground, Lieutenant Johnson could not resist the temptation to administer the sternest punishment he could contrive; and with full steam on, he gave chase, firing at the two prahus as he went.

At the end of ten minutes one had been struck several times, and her captain ran her close in sh.o.r.e, he and his crew deserting her; while after avoiding only by a miracle at least a dozen shots, the last prahu suddenly turned in by a branch of the river and seemed to go right amongst the palm-trees, when, after a parting shot or two, the steamer proving quite unsuited for chase in such narrow, shallow waters, the lieutenant gave it up, his crew being too weak to continue the chase with the boats.

CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN.

HOW BOB ROBERTS BURNED THE PRAHU.

The victory was dearly bought; for now that the breathless excitement was over, and there was time to make an examination, it was found that fully half the crew had injuries, more or less serious, the men, though, bearing their sufferings with the greatest fort.i.tude as their two officers, for want of a doctor, bound up the wounds.

It almost seemed as if those who had most exposed themselves had come off best; for neither Lieutenant Johnson, Bob Roberts, Ali, nor Adam Gray, who had been brave even to recklessness, had received a scratch.

"I have only one regret about you, Gray," said Lieutenant Johnson, shaking his hand warmly.

"May I ask what that is, sir?" replied Gray.

"Yes, that you are not a sailor; that is all," said the lieutenant, smiling. "I shall not forget this affair. I believe you twice over saved my life."

"And you, too, friend Ali," continued the lieutenant, laying his hand upon the young chief's shoulder. "I have often called the Malays a set of treacherous wretches, but I find that there are Malays and Malays.

Sir, I hope some day that you may rise to power, as in you England will always have a trusty ally."

Ali bowed gravely, and his eyes betokened the pleasure he felt as he thought of the possibility of his raising the people of this land to something better than the slothful, betel-chewing, piratical race they were.

The steamer was now rapidly making her way back, the men furling the sails, and the screw as it revolved sending a wave washing in amidst the roots of the trees on either side of the river; while, now that the present danger was over, the lieutenant went round to visit his patients, leaving Bob Roberts in command, and a man with the lead in the chains.