Gascoyne, the Sandal-Wood Trader by R. M. Ballantyne (guided reading books txt) 📕

from Mr Mason what likelihood there was of an early attack by the natives.

“Where’s Alice,” whispered the boy to Poopy, as the girl entered the church, and seated herself beside a little midshipman, who looked at her with a mingled expression of disgust and contempt, and edged away.

“Got a little headache, hee! hee!”

“Don’t laugh in church, you monster,” said Corrie, with a frown.

“I’se not larfin,” retorted Poopy, with an injured look.

Just then the boy caught sight of a gigantic figure entering the church, and darted away to usher the stranger into the pastor’s seat; but Gascoyne (for it was he) took no notice of him. He passed steadily up the centre of the church, and sat down beside the Widow Stuart, whose face expressed anxiety and surprise the moment she observed who was seated there. The countenance of Henry, who sat on the other side of his mother, flushed, and he turned with an angry glance towards the captain of the Foam; but the look was thrown away, for Gascoyne had placed his arms on the back of the seat in front of him, and rested his head on them; in which position he continued to remain without motion while the service was going on.

Mr Mason began with a short earnest prayer in English; then he read out a hymn in the native tongue, which was sung in good tune, and with great energy, by the whole congregation. This was followed by a chapter in the New Testament, and another prayer; but all the service, with the exception of the first prayer, was conducted in the native language. The text was then read out:— “Though thy sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.”

Frederick Mason possessed the power of chaining the attention of an audience, and a deep breathless silence prevailed, as he laboured, with intense fervour, to convince his hearers of the love of God, and the willingness and ability of Jesus Christ to save even the chief of sinners. During one part of the service, a deep low groan startled the congregation; but no one could tell who had uttered it. As it was not repeated, it was soon forgotten by most of the people.

While the pastor was thus engaged, a pistol-shot was heard, and immediately after, a loud fierce yell burst from the forest, causing the ears of those who heard it to tingle, and their hearts for a moment to quail. In less than ten minutes, the church was empty, and the males of the congregation were engaged in a desperate hand-to-hand conflict with the savages; who, having availed themselves of the one unguarded pass, had quietly eluded the vigilance of the scouts, and assembled in force on the outskirts of the settlement.

Fortunately for the worshippers that morning, the anxiety of Master Corrie for the welfare of his fair Alice induced him to slip out of the church just after the sermon began. Hastening to the pastor’s house, he found the child sound asleep on a sofa, and a savage standing over her with a spear in his hand. The boy had approached so stealthily, that the savage did not hear him. Remembering that he had left his pistol on the kitchen table, he darted round to the back door of the house, and secured it just as Alice awoke with a scream of surprise and terror, on beholding who was near her.

Next moment Corrie was at her side, and before the savage could seize the child, he levelled the pistol at his head and fired. The aim was sufficiently true to cause the ball to graze the man’s forehead, while the smoke and fire partially blinded him.

It was this shot that first alarmed the natives in church, and it was the yell uttered by the wounded man, as he fell stunned on the floor, that called forth the answering yell from the savage host, and precipitated the attack.

It was sufficiently premature to give the people of the settlement time to seize their arms; which, as has been said, they had placed so as to be available at a moment’s notice.

The fight that ensued was a desperate, and almost indiscriminate melée. The attacking party had been so sure of taking the people by surprise, that they formed no plan of attack; but simply arranged that, at a given signal from their chief, a united rush should be made upon the church, and a general massacre ensue. As we have seen, Corrie’s pistol drew forth the signal sooner than had been intended. In the rush that immediately ensued, a party dashed through the house, the boy was overturned, and a savage gave him a passing blow with a club that would have scattered his brains on the floor had it taken full effect; but it was hastily delivered; it glanced off his head, and spent its force on the shoulder of the chief, who was thus unfortunate enough to be wounded by friends as well as foes.

On the first alarm, Gascoyne sprang up, and darted through the door. He was closely followed by Henry. Stuart, and the captain of the Talisman, with his handful of officers and men, who were all armed, as a matter of course.

“Sit where you are,” cried Henry to his trembling mother, as he sprang after Gascoyne; “the church is the safest place you’ll find.”

The widow fell on her knees and prayed to God, while the fight raged without.

Among the first to leave the church was the pastor. The thought of his child having been left in the house unprotected, filled him with an agony of fear. He sought no weapon of war, but darted unarmed straight into the midst of the savage host that stood between him and the object of his affection. His rush was so impetuous, that he fairly overturned several of his opponents by dashing against them. The numbers that surrounded him, however, soon arrested his progress; but he had pressed so close in amongst them, that they were actually too closely packed, for a few seconds, to be able to use their heavy clubs and long spears with effect.

It was well for the poor missionary, at that moment, that he had learned the art of boxing when a boy! The knowledge so acquired had never induced him to engage in dishonourable and vulgar strife; but it had taught him how and where to deliver a straightforward blow with effect; and he now struck out with tremendous energy, knocking down an adversary at every blow,—for the thought of Alice lent additional strength to his powerful arm. Success in such warfare, however, was not to be expected. Still, Mr Mason’s activity and vigour averted his own destruction for a few minutes; and these minutes were precious, for they afforded time for Captain Montague and his officers to cut their way to the spot where he fought, just as a murderous club was about to descend on his head from behind. Montague’s sword unstrung the arm that upheld it, and the next instant the pastor was surrounded by friends.

Among their number was John Bumpus, who was one of the crew of Montague’s boat, and who now rushed upon the savages with a howl peculiarly his own, felling one with a blow of his fist, and another with a slash of his cutlass.

“You must retire,” said Montague, hastily, to Frederick Mason, who stood panting and inactive for a few moments in order to recover breath. “You are unarmed, sir; besides, your profession forbids you taking part in such work as this. There are men of war enough here to keep these fellows in play.”

Montague spoke somewhat sharply, for he erroneously fancied that the missionary’s love of fighting had led him into the fray.

“My profession does not forbid me to save my child,” exclaimed the pastor, wildly.

He turned in the direction of his cottage, which was full in view; and, at that moment, smoke burst from the roof and windows. With a cry of despair, Mr Mason once more launched himself on the host of savages; but these were now so numerous that, instead of making head against them, the little knot of sailors who opposed them at that particular place found it was as much as they could do to keep them at bay.

The issue of the conflict was still doubtful, when a large accession to their numbers gave the savages additional power and courage. They made a sudden onset, and bore back the small band of white men. In the rush the pastor was overthrown and rendered for a time insensible.

While this was going on in one part of the field, in another, stout Ole Thorwald, with several of the white settlers and the greater part of the native force, was guarding the principal approach to the church against immensely superior numbers. And nobly did the descendant of the Norse sea-kings maintain the credit of his warlike ancestors that day. With a sword that might have matched that of Goliath of Gath, he swept the way before him wherever he went, and more than once by a furious onset turned the tide of war in favour of his party when it seemed about to overwhelm them.

In a more distant part of the field, on the banks of a small stream, which was spanned by a bridge about fifty paces farther down, Gascoyne and Henry Stuart contended, almost alone; with about thirty savages. These two had rushed so impetuously forward at the first onset as to have been separated from their friends, and, with four Christian natives, had been surrounded. Henry was armed with a heavy claymore, the edge of which betokened that it had once seen much service in the wars of the youth’s Scottish ancestors. Gascoyne, not anticipating this attack, had returned to the settlement armed only with his knife. He had seized the first weapon that came to hand, which chanced to be an enormous iron shovel, and with this terrific implement the giant carried all before him.

It was quite unintentionally that he and Henry had come together. But the nature and power of the two men being somewhat similar, they had singled out the same point of danger, and had made their attack with the same overwhelming vehemence. The muscles of both seemed to be made of iron, for, as increasing numbers pressed upon them, they appeared to deliver their terrible blows with increasing rapidity and vigour, and the savages, despite their numbers, began to quail before them.

Just then Keona—who, although wounded, hovered about doing as much mischief as he could with his left hand, (which, by the way, seemed to be almost as efficient as his right,)—caught sight of this group of combatants on the banks of the stream. He, with a party, had succeeded in forcing the bridge, and now, uttering a shout of wild delight at the sight of his two greatest enemies within his power—as he thought—he rushed towards them and darted his spear with unerring aim and terrible violence. The man’s anger defeated his purpose, for the shout attracted the attention of Gascoyne, who saw the spear coming straight towards Henry’s breast. He interposed the shovel instantly, and the spear fell harmless to the ground. At the same time, with a back-handed sweep he brained a gigantic savage who at the moment was engaging Henry’s undivided attention. Bounding forward with a burst of anger, Gascoyne sought to close with Keona. He succeeded but too well, however, for he could not check himself sufficiently to deliver an effective blow, but went crashing against his enemy, and the two fell to the ground together.

In an instant a rush was made on the fallen man; but Henry leaped forward, and sweeping down two opponents with one cut of his claymore, afforded his companion time to leap up.

“Come, we are quits,” said Henry, with a grim smile, as the two darted again on the