|                        PART FOUR: The Stockade
                       Chapter 21: The Attack
 (continued)Nor had we much time left to us for thought.  Suddenly,
 with a loud huzza, a little cloud of pirates leaped from
 the woods on the north side and ran straight on the stockade.
 At the same moment, the fire was once more opened from the
 woods, and a rifle ball sang through the doorway and knocked
 the doctor's musket into bits. The boarders swarmed over the fence like monkeys.
 Squire and Gray fired again and yet again; three men
 fell, one forwards into the enclosure, two back on the
 outside.  But of these, one was evidently more
 frightened than hurt, for he was on his feet again in a
 crack and instantly disappeared among the trees. Two had bit the dust, one had fled, four had made good
 their footing inside our defences, while from the
 shelter of the woods seven or eight men, each evidently
 supplied with several muskets, kept up a hot though
 useless fire on the log-house. The four who had boarded made straight before them for
 the building, shouting as they ran, and the men among
 the trees shouted back to encourage them.  Several shots
 were fired, but such was the hurry of the marksmen that
 not one appears to have taken effect.  In a moment, the
 four pirates had swarmed up the mound and were upon us. The head of Job Anderson, the boatswain, appeared at
 the middle loophole. "At 'em, all hands--all hands!" he roared in a voice
 of thunder. At the same moment, another pirate grasped Hunter's
 musket by the muzzle, wrenched it from his hands,
 plucked it through the loophole, and with one stunning
 blow, laid the poor fellow senseless on the floor.
 Meanwhile a third, running unharmed all around the
 house, appeared suddenly in the doorway and fell with
 his cutlass on the doctor. Our position was utterly reversed.  A moment since we
 were firing, under cover, at an exposed enemy; now it
 was we who lay uncovered and could not return a blow. The log-house was full of smoke, to which we owed our
 comparative safety.  Cries and confusion, the flashes
 and reports of pistol-shots, and one loud groan rang
 in my ears. |