Part 20

He shoved the needle right through the skin, and I thought that the man would surely yell, but he only opened his eyes for a second and then closed them again.

"Now, Glover, if you have nothing to do, try and get some cocoa for these fellows."

I was only too jolly glad to do anything for them--there were nearly twenty of them huddled in a sheltered corner, most of them apparently asleep, and one or two groaning terribly.

I stepped across to Sergeant Haig, and the stern old man got hold of some cocoa and some water out of a breaker, and I hunted up some fairly dry wood for the fire, and in time we got it hot. I had to carry it back myself, as he would not leave his men. When I had done this, and everyone who was not unconscious had had some of the cocoa, Dr. Richardson sent me to get blankets and any oil-skins I could collect. The blankets were not difficult to find, for they were all under that big tarpaulin, but very few men had their oil-skins, and those that had them were not any too willing to part with them.

But I managed to bring back half a dozen, and we covered up all the wounded we could.

Mr. Pattison looked simply awful. He had lost a tremendous lot of blood, and his head was covered with bandages; but his face was a horrid purple colour, and he was puffing out his cheeks and blowing through his lips every time he breathed.

"Hasn't come round yet," Dr. Richardson told me.

"Will he die?" I asked anxiously, for everybody had been awfully sorry for him ever since he had lost destroyer "No. 1", and I, of course, knew too that he was frightfully gone on Milly, and wanted to see him get back his luck.

"Can't tell, Glover; hope not;" and Dr. Richardson sat down wearily and tried to light his pipe.

"Haven't we done splendidly so far, sir," I said, opening my jacket to shield him from the wind as he struck his damp matches.

"Ask Pattison," he answered, shrugging his shoulders.

Captain Hunter came down just then to see how the wounded were getting on, so I slipped away, and, to tell the truth, was not at all sorry.

And, also, being near so many men who had been hit made me feel rather frightened.

* * * * *

I had better explain to you now exactly how we were situated at this time. All told, one hundred and fourteen men and ten officers had been landed. Of these seven had been killed and eighteen wounded, including Mr. Pattison, but not including Captain Williams (nor indeed Captain Hunter and Mr. Saunderson, who both had skin wounds, and several of the men as well).

This left us thirty seamen and fifty-four marines, one of the wounded blue-jackets and three of the wounded marines being still able to handle their rifles whilst lying on the ground behind the sand-bags.

The marines were manning the breast-works and the blue-jackets the Krupp gun and the two Maxims, Mr. Gibbins being in command of the big gun, and Collins the Sub in command of the Maxims.

The sand-bag breast-works we had made in the morning were now vastly improved, and were much more substantial, because the men, when not firing, had dug away the earth behind them and strengthened them in front with the earth thrown out. Each man, in fact, had vied with his neighbour in digging himself farther into the ground, so that actually there was now a trench behind the breast-works.

The rain, too, had soaked into the bags and made them more heavy and bullet-proof.

Captain Williams's Log Redoubt ran right across the side facing Bush Hill, and was so high that it kept off a great many of the bullets from there, and made it almost safe to walk about the top of the hill, if you only stooped down.

The Maxim redoubt, too, at the harbour end of this breast-work, was quite strong and nearly four feet high, and Mr. Collins and his men added to it whenever firing was slack.

The town itself was hidden from us by the line of smoke from the smouldering bushes about fifty yards down the slope of the hill. Hardly a shot came from that direction. None either came towards Sergeant Haig's redoubt or from the sea at our rear.

It was nearly mid-day, and the field-guns were still shelling us, but I think that the noise of their shells was the worst part of them so long as we kept under cover. Although several had burst right in the centre of the plateau during the last hour, nobody had been touched during that time. These were all common shell,[#] for they appeared to have run short of shrapnel, or found that they could not rely on the fuses bursting properly.

[#] Thin-walled shell with a large bursting charge. Shrapnel shell have a small bursting charge and scatter round bullets when they burst.

The men had become so used to these shells, that if one burst they hardly turned to look at it. Sometimes you would see a man screw himself down more firmly into the ground; but most of them took no notice at all, and joked amongst themselves or jeered at the unfortunate signalman, or one of the Maxims' crews, who happened to be in the open and had to throw himself on the ground to escape the flying splinters.

The Commander did once try to reach those guns with a Maxim, but the range must have been well over two thousand yards. We could not see where the bullets were going, and certainly they had no effect on the people working them.

Once or twice, though, when the firing from the bushes became brisk, we soon made them ease down by letting off fifty or sixty rounds into Bush Hill, and Collins kept both the crews very much on the alert, with belts of cartridges ready to pump out bullets in case the enemy tried to make another rush.

We had a fair amount of ammunition left, a fair amount of water, and plenty of provisions, and so, all things considered, we were pretty comfortable.

The rain too had ceased, the wind also began to lose force, and every now and again the sun came out, though not for long enough to dry our dripping clothes.

Captain Hunter and the Commander had been all this time walking up and down the plateau as if it were the _Laird's_ quarter-deck, or standing on the edge and watching to see where our big shells were falling. They and Mr. Gibbins, who had to climb up to the sighting-platform each time the gun fired, were the only people much exposed to danger. The Commander did not take shelter, I am sure, because the Captain did not, and to give the men confidence; Captain Hunter because he thoroughly enjoyed the excitement.

Down below us we could see little "No. 3" a mile out to sea, the _Sylvia_ not far from her. Both were having a very bad time of it, half smothered in spray and both rolling heavily--the _Sylvia_ because she had very little of her cargo of coal left and was very high in the water, and "No. 3" because she always did so.

Right away across the island, beyond the entrance, the _Laird_ and the _Strong Arm_ were steaming backwards and forwards, and they too were making pretty heavy weather of it. I wondered whether they could see us at all, and thought how Mellins and Toddles must wish that they were up here with me.

"No. 2", half buried in the heavy seas off the corner of the island near the forts, was doing her best to keep up communication between the big ships and the _Sylvia_ and "No. 3".

Mr. Lang always seemed to have the rotten jobs to do; but I have heard that this was because he was something like Mr. Pattison, and never thought of anything except getting close to the enemy, and Captain Helston had never forgotten the loss of "No. 1".

The big Krupp was now beginning to drop her shells quite close to where the cruisers, torpedo-boats, and the remaining (Patagonian) destroyers were lying. One had fallen almost aboard the _Hong Lu_, but we could not rely upon any shot with the least degree of accuracy. However, all of them had started to get up steam, clouds of black smoke coming up through their funnels, and the Commander thought immediately that they might try and escape, so Captain Hunter sent me with Gordon the signalman to try and report this to Captain Helston.

The signalman had previously found a little open spot on the hill with a good background, against which his flags could be seen from the sea, and he began waving them vigorously from side to side, whilst I watched through my glasses to tell him directly the signalman on board the _Sylvia_ or "No. 3" spotted him. "No. 3" it was who first ran up the answering pendant.

"Them _Sylvia's_ don't think of nothing but sleepin' an' eatin'," growled the signalman, and commenced slowly semaphoring "Captain Hunter to flag-ship.--Am dropping shells into harbour, and ships are rapidly getting up steam. All quiet up here."

I saw that "No. 3" had taken in the message, and she hauled down the answering pendant and began to steam towards "No. 2" till it was possible to pass it on to her.

Presently "No. 2" had also received it, and hoisted flags to call the _Laird's_ attention. Her signalmen must have been very much on the alert, for almost immediately her answering flag went crawling up--a tiny little patch in her rigging--to her mast-head, and I could see "No. 2's" signalman perched on the unsteady bridge, half smothered with spray and semaphoring with his flags.

Down came the flag aboard the _Laird_, and I could imagine the signal midshipman already tearing down the bridge ladder to take the message to Captain Helston.

"That'll cheer 'em up, sir, out there in the wet," said the signalman, as I climbed up again to report to Captain Hunter that I had managed to pass it through to the flag-ship.

I was sent down to wait for any reply, and found the signalman watching the _Laird_ through his telescope. "She's just going to make a signal from her mast-head semaphore, sir," he said. So I stood by to write it down as he spelt out the letters.

[The mast-head semaphore consists of two large black-and-white arms, which can be worked from the bridge below.]

"I.F--E.N.E.M.Y--L.E.A.V.E--H.A.R.B.O.U.R," I wrote down as he sung out the letters, and the message continued, "Endeavour to support me with your gun. 'No. 3' and 'No. 2' are to rejoin the squadron, and _Sylvia_ to act independently."

I was just rushing up hill with this when the signalman sung out, "They've started again, sir," and spelt out, "Officers and men, _Laird_ and _Strong Arm_, congratulate you all on success. Repeat signal to 'No. 3' and _Sylvia_."

I left him obeying the last order, and took the signal to Captain Hunter.

He and the Commander smiled grimly.

"Those torpedo-boats and destroyers will never dare to go out in this weather," I heard the Commander say. "The _Hong Lu_ might possibly run away, though she certainly couldn't fight in this weather, and those other two old tubs could not even run away." He was right, too, for though they all did weigh anchor directly afterwards, they never attempted to leave the harbour; but, whilst the big ships began slowly steaming round it, merely keeping steerage-way on, the destroyers and torpedo-boats moved in so close to the land that it was impossible for the big Krupp to touch them.

I felt quite sad to signal, "Cruisers not attempting to leave harbour--steaming slowly to avoid shell", and knew how dreadfully disappointed they all would be.

"If only this gale would blow itself out, we might tempt them out, even now," I heard the Commander say.

For the next half-hour we tried our utmost to hit the _Hong Lu_, but as she was constantly on the move, and the clumsy gun could not even train steadily, but went groaning round its roughly-made turn-table in a succession of jerks, it was evidently impossible to do so.

Then we tried another scheme to lay the gun for a certain spot on the cliff opposite us, with a very small charge of powder behind the shell. A man at the edge signalled whenever the _Hong Lu_ in her circling came towards it. Mr. Gibbins stood by with the firing lanyard and fired directly he could see the top of her fore-mast in line with that spot on the cliff--the top of her fore-mast being the only thing he could see from the sighting-platform, and then only when she happened to be right on the far side of the harbour.

Well, we never did hit her, nor any of the others either. They never gave us a chance; tumbled to our plan directly and stopped their engines. Then, when the blue-jackets had struggled with the gun and trained her in a different direction, the _Hong Lu_ would be out of it again. They evidently had people signalling the movements of the gun from the cliff above them.

If we could only have made certain of our powder charge it would have been more easy; but even with, say, only one bag and a half of powder, the shells would never drop in the same place twice running, though, whether it was due to the powder being old and bad, or the gun too worn-out, I do not know.

It was frightfully disappointing, and even the Commander showed signs of irritation. Mr. Gibbins and his sweating gun's crew were simply furious.

The poor old gun was by this time simply white with bullet splashes, and looked quite helpless as it wobbled from side to side and puffed out its erratic shells.

The marines, too, had constantly to be shifting away from Mr. Saunderson's breast-works so that it could fire over them, and this annoyed them.

* * * * *

Now that the rain had ceased, the bushes began to burn quite furiously, fanned by the wind, and the cloud of smoke stretched right across our front, rolling down towards the town. The fire had left a clear space of blackened twigs and half-burnt grass for nearly sixty yards in front of Mr. Saunderson's breast-works, and it was lucky enough for us that it had done so.

There had been a complete lull of firing, and I had gone across to yarn with Mr. Collins, to whom I had not yet spoken.

He was in the Maxim redoubt at the corner, strengthening it with sods of turf, and he winked at me as I came near him. "Having a good time, Glover?"

"Ra-ther," I said. "Wouldn't Mr. Parker like to be here too?"

"He's a splendid chap," said Mr. Collins. "Never thinks of himself, and sent me up here without my asking. Do you know, he had every mortal thing ready--except the oil-drums, of course. The men even had their leather gear on, and water-bottles filled, before he got the Commander's signal. He thought he might want reinforcements."

"I rather expected to see Jones come ashore," I said.

"Poor old Jones is on his beam-ends, groaning in his hammock, pretty bad with rheumatism or something like it. That day on the ledge in the rain was too much for him. You're a pretty lucky chap to get ashore--the only midshipman of the whole crowd," he continued. "How did you manage it?"

"Well," I said, rather sadly, for I had at one time been conceited enough to imagine that I'd been chosen for ability, "the Commander knows a cousin of mine, and she asked him to look after me."

Mr. Collins smiled somewhat sarcastically. "If I hadn't had an aunt who knew an admiral, who'd known Helston years ago, I shouldn't have been here either."

"He seems rather down on me now, though," I said. "Whenever I go near him he sends me away."

"Can't you guess why, you fool?" Mr. Collins asked, hammering down a big load of earth his men had brought him.

"No; I thought I'd done something wrong."

"Silly young ass! Why, he and the Captain are simply being potted at from those bushes beyond us, and he doesn't want you to be bowled over. He won't take cover either; he can't, I suppose, while the Captain struts about enjoying himself. It may be jolly plucky, and Hunter is as grand a man as ever lived, and I'd follow him, and we'd all follow him anywhere, but he's simply playing the fool."

"Oh!" was the only thing I could say.

We were interrupted by one of the Maxim gun's crew pointing down the slope of the hill just beyond the line of smoking bushes.

"Beg pardon, sir, but I think there's a heap of natives down among them there bushes."

"Go back and tell the Captain, Glover," Mr. Collins told me, stepping inside the redoubt and calling his men back to the Maxim.

"Go quietly."

I had hardly left him before the most frightful yells came from below and from Bush Hill; out from the cloud of smoke burst hundreds and hundreds of screaming Chinamen, and from Bush Hill a most awful fire was opened. I could hear the rattling of a Maxim, and a fearful hail-storm of bullets swept across the level top of the hill.

I had never heard anything like this before, and bent down and ran.

*CHAPTER XXII*

*The Final Attack on the Hill*

We Defend the Gun--Hunter to the Rescue--Hopkins Again--A Confession--Hopkins's Will--Hopkins Makes a Request--Back to the "Laird"--Helston Acts--I am Sent Below

_Mr. Midshipman Glover's Narrative continued_

As I ran I heard both our Maxims pumping out lead with their horrid noises, and Mr. Saunderson's voice steadying his marines as they fired point-blank down the hill. Sergeant Haig's men slewed round to their left and fired sideways into the howling mob, and Captain Williams behind me was trying to stop the Chinamen's Maxim. The noise was awful--the noise of Martinis, Mausers, Maxims, and the screaming Chinese.

"Tell Mr. Gibbins to keep his men inside the gun-pit till they are wanted," roared Captain Hunter, as he looked at his revolver to see that it was loaded, and "Stay there till he leaves it," added the Commander quite fiercely.

Hardly had I given the message to Mr. Gibbins, whose men had already seized their rifles, before the marines began rising on their knees, some of them fixing their bayonets. I knew what that meant, and must confess that I was horribly frightened, and felt jolly thankful to get to the lee side of that big gun and behind the parapet. With my head over the sand-bags, I could see all that was going on.

Mr. Saunderson fell forward, but scrambled to his knees again, looking very white in the face. A marine near the Commander sprang right in the air with an unearthly yell and collapsed in a heap. A second later hundreds of pale, tawny faces, with little pig eyes, showed up over the crest, and one or two of the marines came crawling back to the gun-pit for shelter. I saw Captain Hunter lift the second off the ground and almost throw him back to his place.

They were all on their feet now, firing without putting rifle to shoulder. Chinese went down like nine-pins, but hundreds took their places; a crowd of them were right up to the breast-work, just to the right of the centre Maxim, hitting out with rifles, prodding with bayonets, and slashing with old naval cutlasses. The marines clubbed their rifles, fighting like tigers, man after man dropped down, and a howling mass broke through, pushing Saunderson's marines on one side by sheer weight of numbers, and came streaming across towards the gun.

I saw the dapper little Subaltern from the _Strong Arm_ rushing across with his men from the breast-work overlooking the sea, but they were thrown back like corks in front of a wave, and now the yelling mob was right up to the sand-bag parapet. I had drawn my revolver unconsciously as they came rushing across, and I seemed to become quite cool.

"Now's your time, boys," shouted Mr. Gibbins to the twenty blue-jackets he had inside the gun-pit. "Fire downwards or you'll hit our own men." He leaped on top of the parapet, and, as the first Chinaman tried to scramble over, struck him a blow on the head which knocked him headlong, and then began coolly and deliberately firing his revolver into the seething mass below him.

The whole top of the hill seemed covered with Chinamen, a seething, struggling, yelling mass, with a fringe of marines at the edge, the butt-ends of their rifles, swinging round and round, coming down with sickening thuds on those shaven heads.

Here and there among them, two or three marines, back to back, were clearing a circle round them, and across to the left I could see Captain Hunter cleaving them in front of him.

They were all round us now, clambering over the parapet or pulling down the sand-bags, and though they fell, shot at the muzzles of the blue-jackets' rifles or bayoneted through the body, more filled their places, and tore the sand-bags down like wild cats.

One had half wriggled himself over in front of me--my pistol went off, and he sank down out of sight. Another climbed over him, and I found myself on top of the parapet, though I cannot remember getting there. I fired again, and he too fell, clinging to my legs. I staggered forward, and should have been dragged down among them, but a blue-jacket on my left ran him through with his bayonet, and with a gurgle he let go my legs and slid down.

"Keep farther back, sir," the blue-jacket muttered hoarsely, and jumped across to drive back three more who were nearly over. With a terrible kick of his iron-shod boot he caught one full in the face, but another gripped his leg, the third his rifle, and, before anyone could move, had hauled him headlong to the ground. As he disappeared among them they closed round him with a yell.

I felt a burning red feeling in my head and eyes, and, like a fool, jumped after him, fired my last four cartridges right into them, and began hitting out with my fist and the empty revolver.

Somebody caught me by the wrist, but I wrenched myself free; somehow or other the pressure in front of me became less. I found myself standing over the blue-jacket, with my back to the parapet, with only three or four Chinese in front of me, prodding at me with boarding-pikes and old cutlasses; but, strangely enough, it struck me even then that they were not trying to kill me. I discovered that I had an axe in my hand--how it got there I don't know--and was waving it round and round. The Maxims--our Maxims, by the noise they made--started again, and men were cheering all round me. Chinese came sweeping back past the sides of the gun-pit and brushing against me, and those in front seemed to melt away. It was just like a wave that had swept up a sea-shore, surged against a rock, flung itself all round it, and then, with its force spent, slid back to the sea.

Suddenly I was seized by the collar from behind and swung off the ground. I struggled, I bit, I hit out with what strength I had, but the axe was torn from my hand, my feet were swept from beneath me, and before I could even yell for help I was rushed across the plateau, over the breast-works, and down the side of the hill in the midst of the Chinese.

Just as we got below the edge, one of the men who had hold of me fell with a shriek.

I kicked myself free (he was dead), but two more pounced on me, threw me to the ground, lifted me up, struggling like a cat, and bore me down again.

I was half choked with the smoke of the burning bushes as they rushed through them, and a hundred yards below they stopped, threw me face downwards on the grass, forced my hands together behind my back, tied them there, and then two of the hulking cowards sat on me.

I didn't think--I didn't feel any pain; my brain seemed absolutely frozen, for, just as that brute had fallen and I had kicked myself free, I saw something which I shall never forget for the rest of my life.

Captain Hunter had seen me and, head and shoulders above the retreating Chinamen, had plunged down through them, roaring to his men to follow.