The Captain of the Kansas - Page 113/174

Then he learnt the significance of that column of smoke on the northern

point. A fleet of at least forty canoes was advancing on the ship from

the sea. Tide and paddles were swinging the small craft along at a

spanking pace. They were already much nearer the vessel than the first

batch of Indians, who had very cleverly contrived to enlist the

attention of the defenders while the real attack was developing without

let or hindrance. It was a smart ruse, worthy of a race of higher

attainments than the tribe which is ranked lowest in the human scale.

During long days of patient watching, they had probably estimated to a

nicety the number of men on board. They reasoned that a show of force

to the south would draw all eyes from the north, and the stronger

squadron of canoes might be enabled to run under the bows of the ship

so speedily and quietly that the occupants of the leading craft, men

who could climb like monkeys, stood some chance of gaining the deck

unobserved. That this was their design was proved by the abstention of

the newcomers from firing or stone-slinging. They were gathering with

the speed and silence of vultures.

Two mines protected the front of the Kansas, and several canoes had

passed them. Indeed, Courtenay soon found that some of the assailants

were already screened by the ship's bows, but the larger number were

clustered thickly round Tollemache's infernal machines. It was well

that a cool-headed sailor was called on to deal with this emergency.

The captain of the Kansas even smiled as he appreciated the full

meaning of the trick which his adversaries had tried to play on him,

and the man who smiles in the face of danger is one to be depended on.

The six cords were numbered. He dropped No. 2, which he was holding,

and seized Nos. 4 and 5. He drew them in, hand over hand, as rapidly

as possible, but careful not to sacrifice a smooth tension to undue

hurry. In a few seconds two deafening reports split the air, the glass

front of the chart-house shook, pieces of the broken panes rattled on

the floor, several scraps of iron, bolts, nuts and heavy nails fell on

the decks and hatches, and a tremendous hubbub of yells came from the

main body of Indians. A couple of heavily charged dynamite bombs had

burst in their midst, dealing death and destruction over a wide area.

Several canoes near the floating platforms were torn asunder and sank,

while men were killed or wounded out of all proportion to the number of

craft disabled.

Courtenay at once picked up the governing cord of the mine which he was

about to fire in the first instance. He felt that the Alaculof

flotilla would act in future on the "once bitten twice shy" principle

where those innocent-looking little poles showed above sea level, and

he must strike fierce blows while the opportunity served. The nine

canoes on the south were not clustered around the bomb in the same

manner as the others, but they were near enough to sustain heavy loss,

and their affrighted crews had ceased to ply their paddles. So he

fired that shell also, and had the satisfaction of seeing two more of

the frail craft capsize.