And the
stuff of the signal-flares dripped red light and blue and green.
There was not much of a fight, for the mutineers were shocked by our
fireworks. Margaret fired her revolver haphazardly, while I held my
rifle for any that gained the poop. But the attack faded away as
quickly as it had come. I did see Margaret overshoot some man,
scaling the poop from the port-rail, and the next moment I saw Wada,
charging like a buffalo, jab him in the chest with the spear he had
made and thrust the boarder back and down.
That was all. The rest retreated for'ard on the dead run, while the
three trysails, furled at the foot of the stays next to the mizzen
and set on fire by the dripping gasolene, went up in flame and burned
entirely away and out without setting the rest of the ship on fire.
That is one of the virtues of a ship steel-masted and steel-stayed.
And on the deck beneath us, crumpled, twisted, face hidden so that we
could not identify him, lay the man whom Wada had speared.
And now I come to a phase of adventure that is new to me.
Pages:
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537