CHAPTER X
Running the Gauntlet
There was tense silence aboard the launch from the moment when she had plunged from the placid waters of the lagoon on to the brightly lit surface of the stream which the two fugitives had followed. For half an hour scarcely a word was spoken, while all eyes searched the path ahead, and peered vainly into the deep, impenetrable shadows on either hand. But at length Tom broke the trying silence, a sharp exclamation coming from the bows, where he was stationed.
"By lummy," he called, "but dat precious queer. Minute ago dere a bright lane ob water ahead; now noding, jest noding, all dark and black. Massa Major, yo ain't gwine ter steam ahead like dis all de while! S'pose dere a big rock ahead. S'pose de water come to an end. Dat be very awkward."
"Steady," called out the Major. "Guess it is queer, as Tom says; for a minute ago I could have sworn that this stream ran on clear and unbroken a good mile ahead. Now, it's suddenly blocked out. Perhaps there's a bend 'way there in front."
"I'm sure," answered Jim promptly. "If we run on gently we shall find that the stream opens up again before we get to that patch of darkness. Gee! Guess I'm right; it was a bend."
Meanwhile he had slowed down his motor; and it was fortunate he had done so, for as the launch covered the intervening space lying between herself and the dense shadow, to which Tom had drawn attention, it was noticed by all that the fairway had narrowed considerably. At the bend, when she was gliding slowly forward, the banks came together very abruptly, leaving a stream of water between them which was but a few feet wide. And while the rays from the moon fell upon the surface for some dozen boat-lengths ahead, beyond that point the distance was shrouded in darkness, the jungle cut off the rays as if with a shutter, casting a dense shadow on every side. Instantly the Major issued his orders.
"Stop her," he cried in low tones. "This is a teaser. I don't much care about going on through that narrow lane; for if there were folks round here to attack us, we might have a job to get out again. Chances are we couldn't turn the boat, and that would mean reversing all the way. What do you say, Jim? It's a teaser, ain't it?"
But for the moment our hero was engaged with his engine. He threw out his lever at the Major's orders, and then pushed it right forward, till the propeller was reversing. Having brought the boat to a standstill, he left the motor running gently, and clambered forward till he was beside the officer.
"Guess it'd be better to stay right here," he said shortly. "I quite agree that if we went along that narrow lane we might be placing ourselves in a difficulty. We might find ourselves in a regular bottle, with only a narrow neck from which to make our escape. Best lie here till morning, when we shall see where we are, and what sort of a place that stream leads to."
"Den boil de kettle an' hot up de food," sang out Ching, who was still huddled at the stern of the vessel. "Plenty hungry and thirsty, Mass Jim, an if havvy food to eat, den de time slippy along velly quickly."
The Major nodded his head vigorously. "You are a man in a hundred, Jim," he said, giving vent to a laugh. "'Pon my word, when I am next sent off on an expedition I shall make it a point that you come along with your servants. A more useful lot I never hit upon. Gee! Of course we're hungry. Jest get to with it, Ching."
"Drop de anchor, eh!" demanded Tom, standing to his full height forward, and holding the pole erect in the air. Indeed, for the moment he looked, with the moon playing upon him, for all the world like a dusky sentry, keeping guard over all on the launch and her surroundings. Then he set the pole down with a clatter, there came to the ear the clank and chink of a chain being dragged across the boarding. Tom lifted the launch's anchor from its rests, and held it out at arm's length, as if it were a feather.
"Drop um in?" he asked, poising it above the water. "Wat you say, sir?"
"Let her go," cried the Major. "When she's fast, haul in the slack, and let me know what depth we've got. Reckon this is as good a place to lie in as we could have, for we're well in midstream, and those rascals could not easily reach us from the banks. But of course they could send their bullets whizzing amongst us, and that's a risk we shall have to laugh at. What's the time, Jim?"
"Want's half an hour of midnight, sir. Guess we might have a feed, and then turn in."
The arrangement was one to be recommended, and the Major fell in with it instantly. Jim stopped his motor, shut off the gasolene and oil, and made a careful inspection of the machinery with the help of his electric torch. Ten minutes later Ching announced that hot coffee was ready, and, rising from the petroleum stove situated as far forward from the motor as was possible, and over which he had been bending, proceeded to deal out the beverage to each member of the expedition. Sam followed him with a tin of biscuits, while the ponderous and good-natured Tom thrust his arm over the shoulder of his diminutive comrade, offering squares of cheese which he had cut ready, and had placed upon the lid of the box to serve as a tray.
"Guess better eat as much as you can," he laughed, opening his cavernous mouth. "S'pose dose scum come along fine and early; den hab noting to eat, but p'raps plenty bullet. Den very sorry yo not fill up to-night."
In any case he availed himself of his own advice, and sat on the edge of the well devouring enormous mouthfuls. As to the others, each ate according to his appetite, and we record but the truth when we say that in no case did that fail them. Their rush across the lagoon in the wake of the fugitives, the excitement of the chase generally, and the freshness of the night had given them all a feeling of briskness, and with that feeling came undoubted hunger. Besides, it might be necessary to push on without a pause, once there was light enough with which to see, then he who had not partaken of a full supper might regret the fact, and might have many hours to wait before an opportunity occurred of taking food.
"Jest you turn in and take a sleep, Jim," said the Major, when the meal was finished. "It's just midnight now, and between two and three in the morning we shall have light. I'll take the watch till then, and Tom may as well be along with me. That big chap somehow seems to make one feel quite secure and safe."
Within five minutes silence once more reigned over the launch, while the moon peeped down upon a number of figures huddled in the well. The Chinaman lay bunched in a little ball right aft, which he seemed to have appointed as his own particular quarters, while Sam lay curled up like a faithful dog at his master's feet. The Major sat beside the engine, a rifle barrel resting against his shoulder, and Tom was perched on the rail, his big eyes searching every shadow, a smile of serene happiness on his face. And at length the morning came. While the moon still hung low in the sky, prepared to disappear altogether, a rosy hue lit up the dense banks of green on either hand, and, falling upon the tree trunks, brought them into prominence. Swiftly the light increased in strength till the banks beneath the trees were visible. The surface of the water gleamed white and cold, and every feature of the launch stood out distinctly. It was time to move. The Major rose from his seat and peered into the narrow channel through which he had not dared to take his men during the darkness. He was on the point of issuing an order when at a spot a little to the right, still hidden somewhat by the lack of light, a puff of white smoke was seen to burst. Flame ringed it in the centre, while the smoke itself rose and spread in wide billows. Something thudded heavily against the side of the launch, while an instant later a deafening report broke the morning silence, and reverberated along the forest.
"Eugh!" cried Tom in alarm, his eyes prominent. "Yo hear dat, massa? Dem scum do as I say and start in right early. Tom not like de bullets singing and humming about his head."
As if the Major could have failed to hear! He started violently as the report swept across the water, and then clambered across into the cab. Jim and the others were already on their feet, while the crafty Ching had uncurled himself, and now lay full length upon his face, a rifle at his shoulder.
"Do dat again and me fire fo sure," he cried. "Mass Jim, you call out if dis Chinaboy to send dem a bullet."
But Jim had other matters to attend to, for he realized that any instant it might be necessary to set the launch in motion. He crawled along into the engine well, and with the light now to help him, had his motor running within the space of a few seconds.
"One of you boys get that anchor lifted," commanded the Major, his eyes fixed upon the spot from which the shot had come. "Tomkins, just fix your sights 'way over at that corner, and if there's another shot, send 'em a bullet. You needn't be careless either; this time they're asking for a lesson."
The words had hardly left his lips when another shot rang out from the bank, the smoke blowing up again into the cool morning air. It was followed by another and another, till from some twenty places smoke obscured the bank and the forest. As to the missiles, they flew, hummed, and screamed overhead, some dropping into the water beyond, others thudding against the far bank, while a few, just a few only, struck the launch, making her wooden sides rumble. Not a man aboard was hit, though many escaped narrowly.
"Precious near every time," cried Jim, reddening under the excitement, and finding it extremely difficult to refrain from bobbing. "Gee! I declare that one of those bullets went within an inch of my arm while another struck the top of the cylinder here, and – hi! look at this!" he shouted.
That last bullet had, in fact, done real damage; for it happened to be a big one, discharged from a huge muzzle-loader, sold to the man who had fired the weapon by men who palmed it off as of the latest construction. Almost as big as a pigeon's egg, the mass of lead had struck the cylinder heavily, and with disasterous results. A column of water was spurting upward from the rent made in the copper cooling jacket.
"Done any damage? Not harmed the engine, I hope?" said the Major, looking across at Jim, and then at Tom, who meanwhile was tugging at the anchor chain. "I hear her running; that sounds hopeful."
Jim did not answer for the moment. At the first hasty inspection he imagined that the missile must have made a rent in the copper jacket and also cracked the cylinder casting itself. But a close survey of the damage showed him that the worst had not happened. The motor was heavily built, and no doubt the casting had been strong enough and thick enough to stand up to the blow. As to the water jacket, the damage was serious, but could be remedied. He could make a temporary repair inside half an hour, if given the opportunity, some sheet copper, and a soldering lamp. But for the present the rent must remain; the water must continue to pump up into the air.
"We'll get along in spite of the damage, Major," he sang out cheerily. "But I shall want a man along here to bail. Ching, jest you hop in here with me and bring some sort of a pannikin."
"Got um! By de poker, but I tink dat anchor fixed down below beneath a rock," shouted Tom at this instant, lurching back on the for'ard deck and just saving a fall into the well. "Dat ting stick like wax, and Tom not move um at fust. Hi, by lummy, you ober dere, yo do dat again and Tom say someting to yo. He skin yo alibe. He roast de flesh on yo bones and eat you."
Jim grinned; even in the midst of such excitement the huge negro amused him, so that he was forced to laugh. Indeed the antics Tom indulged in were enough to cause a shout of merriment. It seemed that a bullet, fired at him a second earlier, just as he was hauling up the anchor, had struck him on the back of the hand; and though it had done nothing more than break the skin, it had caused a great deal of pain. It was that, and the suddenness of it all, which had roused the ire of the negro.
"You black son ob gun yo!" he bellowed, shaking a huge fist towards the bank from which the shot had come. "Me break yo into little pieces, smash yo into fine jelly."
"Hop right down off that deck, and see that you've placed the anchor out of harm's way," commanded the Major sharply. "Bullets are bad enough, but when they ricochet from an anchor they give very nasty wounds. Ah!"
He had hardly finished speaking when there came another rolling discharge from the bank, followed by the rush of the bullets, and then by a dull thud. The officer commanding the expedition fell forward in the cab, struck his forehead against the edge, and subsided in a heap on the floor. Instantly one of his men bent over him.
"Knocked silly, sir," he said, addressing Jim. "What's to be done?"
He looked at his two companions and awaited their answer. But one of them was busily engaged. Tomkins crouched in the well, his rifle to his shoulder and a perfect stream of fire issuing from the muzzle. Indeed, no one could have handled a magazine rifle better. But he came to the end of his supply of cartridges within a minute, and faced round quickly.
"What's that?" he demanded anxiously. "The Major hit? Say, this is bad!"
"Knocked silly; not killed," explained his comrade, shooting a cartridge into his own barrel. "What's to be done?"
Tomkins cast a sympathetic glance at the Major, and then across at the river bank. A second later his eyes strayed to Jim's figure, and for a few moments he watched the young fellow as he tended to his engine, and with Ching's help placed a board padded with oiled cotton waste over the rent in the cooling jacket.
"See here," he cried abruptly. "The Major's down. Guess that young fellow had best take his place. He knows how to work this concern, and he ain't no fool by a long way. Get to at it."
He took it for granted that Jim would accept the post of commander, and promptly turned towards the bank again, his magazine already replenished.
Meanwhile it may be wondered who had caused the whole commotion, who were the miscreants who had so suddenly and treacherously fired into the launch.
Five minutes almost had passed since the first shot came, when the banks were hardly visible. But the dawn comes quickly in the tropics. The day was full upon them now, and, looking up, Jim could perceive the mass of tangled undergrowth beneath the forest trees, while right by the edge of the water were a number of dusky figures. If he could have had any reasonable doubt that they were natives Tomkins speedily helped him to a decision. For the man was a first-class marksman, and now that the light was strong enough he began to make good use of his rifle. As Jim stared at the bank, one of the dusky figures turned and scrambled towards the jungle. But it seemed that the man had already been hit; for suddenly he swerved and almost tumbled. Then he faced round again, and stood unsteadily leaning on his weapon. The next instant a terrible shout escaped him; the native, for a dusky individual it was without question, dropped his weapon and thrust both arms high into the air. Then he seemed to crumple up entirely, and, falling forward, rolled with a loud splash into the river. Within a second a comrade had followed him to the same destination, dispatched thither by the policeman's unerring rifle.
Bang! Bang! From a long length of the bank splashes of smoke came, and once more bullets sped towards the launch. Jim heard their thudding, and even noted the various queer sounds they made, the dull blow of one striking her broadside, the cheep of another which merely grazed her rail, and then the nasty screaming of a missile which hit the anchor chain, and, being deflected in its course, rose almost vertically, and later on brought a shower of leaves from the trees beyond. But that was not all. Two bullets at least passed with a peculiar whizz, and went on into the jungle on the other bank, as if they had been driven with greater force than all the rest.
"Revolvers!" exclaimed our hero at once. "Tomkins, I think there were two revolver shots then. Eh?"
The man nodded; he had hardly time to speak.
"Guess so," he said abruptly. "Revolvers – those villains we're after. They've set a whole crowd on to us."
"Then the sooner we are out of their reach the better. See here," cried Jim; "try to find out where those particular ruffians have got to and pepper them. Sam, get to the wheel; we'll make over to the far bank; that'll bother them."
The motor buzzed and roared as he switched his levers forward, while the water pump gathered such power from the momentum that the pressure within the jackets increased wonderfully. Ching, despite all his efforts and all his cunning, could no longer seal that rent made by the bullet. True, he reduced the leakage wonderfully; but from all round the margin a spray of hot water swept broadcast, quickly drenching our hero to the skin. It was a trifle, however: Jim congratulated himself that he was not likely to be scalded.
"With a motor on a car ashore it would be different," he told himself, as he put the launch in motion. "Here the temperature cannot very well rise too high. She takes in her supply direct from the river, and pumps it right through the jackets and out again. Swing her over, Sam. See here, Tomkins, I'm going straight for the far bank, and will swing round in a circle when I get near. We'll bring up end on, beneath a tree if possible; then we shall present less of a mark. Ah! Good shooting! That'll make 'em careful."
As yet he had had no time in which to reckon the odds opposed to them, nor the imminence of the danger in which the expedition stood. Minor matters occupied his attention, those and vague queries as to how he should proceed. He noted with satisfaction that Tomkins and his two comrades were making excellent practice. At least half a dozen of the enemy had already fallen.
"Round with her, right round, Sam," he commanded, when the launch was near the bank. "Steady! Back her! How's that for a tree?"
With Sam aiding him at the wheel, and he himself controlling the pace of the launch, Jim soon manœuvred her beneath a tree which swept its branches right into the water. Then he threw his lever out, slowed the motor, and crawled into the cab. With Tom's help he laid the Major on his back and carefully searched for a wound. And very soon they came upon the result of the bullet. There was a huge, discoloured bump on the top of his head, while an ugly graze crossed the forehead. For the rest, he was breathing deeply and regularly, while the pupils were equal.
"Bullet knock de sense clean out ob him head," explained Tom, as if he were completely conversant with the matter. "Knock de Massa Major silly. To-morrow, when he wake up and come to himself, he hold de hands to him head. Oh, how him ache! Him feel more silly den dan he look now. But, Massa Jim, dis a bit ob hot stuff. Dis quite all right. Once de fun begin Tom like it hot and plenty. Yo bide little bit; soon dem debil fire away all dere powder and ball. Den time to make a move; den Tom hab someting more to say about de wound. Yo see dat!" and he held out a bruised and swollen hand for Jim's inspection; "scum of a black nigger do dat. Yo see. Tom not forget when de time come."
Really the big fellow was too much for Jim. Grave though the situation was, he was forced to laugh again. For Tom did not stop at threats; his words lost all their impressiveness without the gestures. And the latter, terribly fierce though they were – for when he bared his teeth in a snarl no one could look more like a demon than Tom – were instantly banished and forgotten by the fellow's well-known merry smile. Tom's six-foot smile was too catching. His comical face never failed to draw laughter from his audience.
"If you stand up and expose your ugly head like that you won't be left when the powder has been done with!" exclaimed Jim severely, suppressing his mirth. "Now, listen to this: Tom will watch up stream, Ching will keep a lookout in the downward direction, while Sam will hop ashore. Don't go more than a few feet away, lad," he warned the little negro. "Just enough to keep us from being surprised, and to allow you to rejoin instantly. Say, Tomkins, supposing we give over firing?"
A flushed face turned towards him, while the policeman regarded our hero as if he thought him demented.
"Let 'em go on shootin' and not answer!" he gasped. "Why, of all – "
"It's like this," explained Jim curtly. "All the time you fire they know where we're lying. I don't say we're likely to get bad wounds at this distance, for most of the weapons yonder are gas barrels, I reckon, but a revolver bullet might hit by accident, and then it'd be a case with one of us."
There was indecision on Tomkins's face for the space of a few seconds. To tell the truth, though an excellent fellow, he was one who boasted unusual independence, both in word and act, and while it was a fact that he had suggested that Jim should take the Major's place, he had taken it for granted that orders from our hero would not be very frequent, and that he would mainly direct by managing his motor, and seeing that a course was steered. And here he was fighting the vessel. There was something approaching a scowl on Tomkins's face as the thought flashed across his brain. He swung round to look at the enemy. But a second later he was glancing up at Jim once more, his weapon idle beside him.
"You're a conjuror, I guess," he said abruptly. "I'd forgotten those revolvers. I thought your suggestion was a bad one; then, blessed if one of them rascals didn't drop in a shot. Look there! He winged me!"
He grinned as he held out a finger of his left hand for inspection.
"That's what I got for being foolish. You're right, sir," he said with decision. "What next?"
"See that you don't touch the branches overhead. They'd see them moving from the far side. Sam there? Come aboard. Now," he went on, when the negro had dropped into the well of the launch, "not a sound from anyone. They won't hear the motor while she is running light. We'll run down stream under the trees, and then make a break into the open. A hundred-yards start will allow us to laugh at all their weapons."
There was agreement on all the faces about him. Tomkins nodded very decidedly, showing that the plan met with his approval.
"Then lie out there right forward, Tom," said Jim, lowering his tones. "Those long arms of yours will do as fenders. Push us off if we get too near to a tree. But don't touch 'em if you can help it. Get on to that wheel, Sam; I'm moving off at once."
He threw in his lever and set the propeller turning very slowly, but the launch felt the effect instantly. She was already heading in the right direction, and at once began to glide away beneath the leafy covering. It happened, too, that she was able to pursue this course for more than a hundred yards before a break in the bank, where there had been a species of landslide, and where the trees receded sharply, caused her to come into the open.
"Take her clear into the centre, and then head her for the lagoon," said Jim, calling gently to Sam. "Tom, slip back into the cab. All hands keep their heads as low as possible. Don't fire a shot unless there's actual need, and if there's trouble, let every man who has no other special duty pepper those rascals for all they're worth. Over with her."
Bizz! gurr! gurr! The motor roared at his bidding, while the propeller lashed the shallow water into foam. Ching grabbed at the covering placed over the rent in the water jacket, and then turned his face from the engine. For, though there was nothing there to harm one, still the spray forced in all directions by the pump was disagreeable, to say the least of it, and made seeing almost impossible! Bizz! Gurr! the launch shot down the last few yards of the dark lane beneath the trees. Sam, his eye fixed on the opening, swung his wheel right over, while Jim nudged his levers a trifle higher. The planks at his feet had started to dither again, and practice told him that the vessel must be moving. But they were not shaking and vibrating to such an extent as to make standing upon them uncomfortable. There was no need for such an exhibition of haste yet awhile.
"Might bust the jacket altogether," Jim told himself. "Might have a bad breakdown. Better get along as we are. I can squeeze a little more out of her if there's occasion. Ah, here she goes round into the open!"
Turning abruptly, as Sam swung the wheel over, the launch canted on her heel till a stream of water swamped far up the rail-less deck astern. The bows lifted from the surface in spite of Tom's enormous weight, while a big bow wave collected beneath her cutwater, and, gathering in size as the propeller shot the boat forward, was presently spreading across the surface of the river, and washing heavily against the nearest bank. Straight as a dart the vessel was directed to the point that Jim had mentioned. She cut obliquely across the stream, and, almost before those aboard could have believed it possible, was heeling again to the swerve of her rudder.
"Done them brown. Cut out below them, and left 'em well behind. Boys!" cried Tomkins, beside himself with delight, "I 'low as we've something to thank the chief for. He's done a cute thing; he's stolen a real march on them blackguards."
"Not know so much, siree," answered Tom from his post in the cab, where he had retired at Jim's orders. "Massa Jim all right, don't you fear. He know right well what him up to; but what yo say to dat, and to dat? Dem bullets buzz too close fo Tom's likin'."
That the passage of the launch had been observed there could not now be a shadow of doubt, for the far side of the river had already displayed several patches of smoke, billowing from the rifles of the enemy. But Tomkins laughed at the idea that they could prove harmful.
"Jest you squat right down here at my feet, darkie," he laughed. "Then you won't have no cause to get wonderin' whether a bullet's coming along. Fer me, I guess as we're well out of a ruction that looked at one time likely to get too hot fer anything. You ain't got sich a thing as a light along of you?"
Tom grunted. It annoyed the big fellow to have a recommendation to place himself in safety. His eyes gleamed white in the morning light; his sharp teeth gritted together.
"Yo policeman," he said, as he extracted his pipe from his pocket, and still leaned on the edge of the cab, within full view of those on the bank of the river, "yo Tomkins, yo ain't the only one as wants a smoke. By gum, but Tom like a draw too, 'specially early in de mornin', when dere a chance of gettin' a bullet. Yo sit right there and wait. Matches ain't so plentiful in this locality."
He stuffed his pipe methodically and slowly. Then he put the stem between his teeth and, slowly again, struck one of his matches. He was on the point of offering the light to the policeman when a sudden exclamation came from Sam.
"Look dar!" he shouted. "Not tink dat good for dis here party. Tings is all changed round. Dey's chasin' us instead of we bein' after dem. Massa Jim, dis am a bit of a conundrum."
Conundrum or not, the situation was sufficiently serious. Even Tomkins went red and hot as he realized to the full the gravity of this new movement. For the motor launch was not the only one on the river. The launch on which the two ruffians had escaped from Colon, and which they themselves had chased in the late hours of the previous night, was now chasing them, but under altered circumstances. There were fifty dark figures swarming over her decks.
"Right straight down the centre!" cried Jim, waving to Sam. "You hold on dead straight unless I give you an order. I think we shall just clear her."
But would they? That was the question. The steam launch which had disappeared so mysteriously on the previous night had suddenly darted out from the opposite bank of the river, her decks crowded with men. Moreover, she was fully prepared for a speedy journey, for steam was hissing and whistling from her escape. There was a white wave under her foot, a spreading surf behind her, while the course she followed promised to bring her alongside Jim's vessel before the latter could make her way down the long stretch of water that led to the lagoon. Indeed it looked very much as if the stranger would intercept their passage, and then – what was the prospect?
"Boys," called out Jim after a minute, during which time he had pushed his throttle and ignition levers as far forward as was possible, "see here, boys, there may be a tussle before us. Get to work right now with your rifles. Give it to 'em hot. We may be able to scare 'em."
Pip! Pop! The sharp reports of the Government rifles punctuated the semi-silence which followed, while screams of rage came from the crowded decks of the enemy. Pip! Pop! Tomkins and his friends splashed their bullets in the centre of the throng, and sent more than one of the dusky warriors rolling. Meanwhile, under Jim's guiding hand, the motor launch sped faster towards the lagoon, till her whole frame shivered and vibrated. In such acute cases a second's space of time will change the complexion of matters entirely, will advance the fortunes of one party against those of the other. And here there was an illustration of the fact. Jim's engine raced madly, while the propeller took a firm grip of the water. The vessel bounded forward at a pace which easily outdistanced that of the steam launch. Very soon it became apparent that Jim and his friends would slip past the launch that was steaming from the opposite bank to intercept them.
"Keep at it with those rifles, boys!" he shouted, delighted at the turn matters had taken, and, heedless of the spray of water which gushed in all directions from the rent in the cooling jacket of the motor. "Keep down their fire, and if you catch a sight of those rascals, pepper them properly. Hooray! We'll best 'em yet."