CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

AGAINST FEARFUL ODDS.

Hardly a heart on board that did not throb with anxiety, if not with fear, as that fiendish-looking cannibal fleet drew swiftly nigh. Armed with bows and arrows and spears were they, and Dickson could see also the glitter of ugly creases in the bottom of each canoe. Not tall men were any of them; all nearly naked, however, broad-shouldered, fierce, and grim.

The yacht was now stern on to the shore, but at a safe distance. Nevertheless, by the soundings they could tell that the water just here was not so deep as that further in; so both anchors were let go, the chains rattling like platoon-firing as these safeguards sank to the bottom.

There was no fear about Matty. To the astonishment of all she had clambered up into the dinghy that hung from davits abaft the binnacle.

"Hillo!" she was shouting, as she waved a wee red flag. "Hillo! 'oo bootiful neglos! Tome twick, Matty wants to buy some-fink!"

These dark boats and their savage crews were soon swarming round the _Wolverine_, but they had come to barter skins for tobacco, rum, and bread, not to fight, it seemed.

Peaceful enough they appeared in all conscience. Yet Dickson would not permit them to board. But both he and Hall made splendid deals. A dozen boxes of matches bought half-a-dozen splendid and well-cured otter skins, worth much fine gold; tobacco bought beautiful large guanaca skins; bread fetched foxes' skins and those of the tuen-tuen, a charming little rodent; skins, also well-cured, of owls, hawks, rock-rabbits, and those of many a beautiful sea-bird.

The barter, or nicker, as the Yankee called it, pleased both sides, and the savages left rejoicing, all the more so in that, although the skipper would give them no rum to carry away with them, he spliced a kind of savage main-brace, and everyone swallowed a glass of that rosy fluid as a baby swallows its mother's milk.

"The moon will be shining to-night, Hall," said the captain, "and we'll have a visit from these fire-fiends of another description. Glad we have got her anchored, anyhow."

Soon after sunset the moon sailed majestically through the little fleecy clouds lying low on the horizon. She soon lost her rosy hue, and then one could have seen to pick up pins and needles on the quarter-deck. She made an immense silver triangular track from ship to shore. Matty was then on deck with Oscar, both merry as ever. But Reginald now took her in his arms and carried her below for bed. Both Dickson and Hall went below to console and hearten the ladies.

"Those fire savages will pay us a visit," said Hall, "but you are not to be afraid. We will wipe them off the face of the creation world. Won't we, skipper?"

"That will we!" nodded Dickson.

But neither Mrs Hall nor Ilda could be persuaded to retire. If a battle was to be fought they would sit with fear and trembling till all was over.

Out from under the dark shadows of the terrible snow-peaked mountain, that fell far over the water, just before eight bells in the first watch--the midnight hour--crept a fleet of canoes, silently--oh, so silently! But presently they got into that track of moonlit sea, so that they could be counted. Thirteen! Ominous number--but ominous for whom?

In twenty minutes the plash of the paddles could be distinctly heard, and the warriors could be seen, armed with spear and bow and deadly crease.

"Standoff! Standoff!"

It was a shout from Dickson.

But it was answered by a wilder shout of defiance and rage, and a cloud of arrows flew inboards.

"Now then, lads!" cried the captain, "give them fits! Quick is the word!"

The six-pounder Armstrong was trained on the foremost boat, with terrible effect. "Bang!" went the gun. Heavens! what a sight! No less than three canoes went down, with the dead and the shrieking wounded. The others but sped onwards the faster, however. A rifle volley now. Then the other gun was fired almost straight down among them, with awful results so far as the savages were concerned.

Hall was coolly emptying his revolvers as soon as his fingers could fill them. Had it been daylight his practice would have been better; as it was, there was nothing to be ashamed of.

But now the canoes were close under the ship's bows and sides. They would attempt to board.

They did, and partly succeeded, cutting through the netting easily with their knives. The sailors fought like true British tars, repelling the fiends with revolvers, with the butts of their rifles, and smashing many a chest and skull even with capstan bars. The officers defended the bows.

No less than six savages managed to get inboards. The Newfoundland was slightly wounded; then he was like a wild beast. He downed one savage, and, horrible to say, seizing him by the windpipe, drew it clean away from the lungs. The others were seen to by the sailors, and their bodies tossed overboard.

The fire-fiends had had enough of it, and prepared to retire. Grape was once more brought to bear on them, and two more canoes were sunk.

The loss to the _Wolverine_ was one man killed and three wounded, but not severely. As long as a canoe was visible, a determined rifle fire was kept up, and many must have fallen.

When Hall and Reginald went below to report the victory, they found the ladies somewhat nervous, and there was little Matty on the table-top, barefooted and in her night-dress. The strange little Yankee maiden wouldn't stop in her state-room, and even when the battle was raging fiercest she had actually tried to reach the deck!

Then Oscar came down, laughing and gasping, and Matty quickly lowered herself down to hug her darling horsie, as she called him.

"Oh, look, auntie!" she cried, after she had thrown her little arms around his great neck and kissed him over and over again, "my pinny is all bluggy!"

The night-dress was indeed "bluggy," for poor Oscar had an ugly spear wound in his shoulder. But the doctor soon stitched it, the faithful fellow never even wincing. Then he licked the doctors red hands and Matty's ear, and then went off on deck to bed.

Next morning broke bright and crisp and clear, but it was cold, for autumn reigned in this dreary land. Once more a service for the dead, and as the body sank into the deep the poor sailor's messmates turned sadly away, and more than one brought his arm to bear across his eyes.

As another attack was to be feared, it was determined to punish the islanders--to carry the war on shore, in fact--and so the four large boats were called away, only a few men being left on board to defend the ship. The guns were too heavy to take, but every man had a rifle, two revolvers and a cutlass.

For so small a vessel, the _Wolverine_ was heavily manned, for from the beginning Captain Dickson had expected grim fighting.

This attack was more than the natives had calculated on. They did not stand the onset an instant, but fled from their village helter-skelter to the almost inaccessible mountains beyond, dropping their spears and bows to accelerate their flight. But the fire which was poured on them was a withering one, and brought many to the ground.

Emboldened by their success, Hall, with Dickson and his brave fellows, made a journey of several miles into the interior. The mountains were everywhere rugged and stern, and covered on their summits with snow that no doubt was perpetual.

But in the valleys beneath, which were quite uninhabited except by wild beasts and birds, were beautiful forests of dark waving cypresses, lofty pines, and beeches, their leaves tinted now with rose and yellow. Very silent and solemn were these woods; but for the savages that even now might be hidden in their dark depths, they seemed to woo one to that peace that only a forest can give.

A stream was meandering through the valley here, and many a glad fish leaped up from the pools, his scales shining like a rainbow in the sunlight.

All haste was now made to regain the shore, where but a few sailors had been left to guard the boats. Only just in time, for the savages were gathering for another attack, and coming down the hillsides in streams.

A hot volley or two dispersed them, however, and they once more hid behind the rocks.

Here in the village was evidence that these fire-fiends had been sitting down to a terrible feast of roasted human flesh! Doubtless they had killed the wounded and cooked them. It is a terrible thing to think of, but I have proof that a woman will eat of the dead body of either husband or brother, and the children too will ravenously partake. I dare not tell in a story like this the horrors of savage life that I have witnessed. I wish to interest, but not to horrify, my readers.

This village was probably one of the largest in the islands which constitute the Tierra del Fuego group. It consisted of nearly nine hundred huts in all, some well-built and comparatively comfortable. First and foremost it was looted, a large cargo of precious skins being secured. Some bows and arrows, spears, etc, were taken as curios; then, just as the sun was sinking red behind the sea, every hut and house was fired.

The blaze was tremendous; and back to the ship, by means of its light, the boats were steered. A breeze having sprung up increased the magnificence of the conflagration, and the sparks, like showers of golden snow, were carried far inland and up the mountain sides.

No wonder that Matty was clapping her wee hands and crowing with delight at the beauty of the "bonfire," as she called it.

Happy indeed were the adventurers when the breeze waxed steadier and stronger. It blew from the west, too. The anchors were quickly hoisted, the ship's head turned to the east, and before two days had fled she had wormed her way out once more into the open ocean. The engines had by this time been repaired, but were not now needed, for the breeze, though abeam, was steady, and good progress was made.

A few days more, and the wind having died down, clear sky by day, star-studded at night, and with sharp frost, the _Wolverine_ was once more under steam and forcing her way round the storm-tormented Horn. For the waves are ofttimes houses high here when no wind is blowing, and they break and toss their white spray far over the green and glittering sides of the snow-clad bergs.

"And now there came both mist and snow, And it grew wondrous cold; And ice mast-high came floating by, As green as emerald.

"The ice was here, the ice was there, The ice was all around; It cracked and growled, and roared and howled, Like noises in a swound."

But at this time a greater danger than that from the ice was threatening, for Norman the Finn was hatching mutiny. Verily a curse seemed to follow the ship wherever she went.