"Hah!" ejaculated the doctor. "Pull, my lads, as you've never pulled before."
The crew gave a cheer, and the cutter almost leaped to their vigorous strokes, every man being now at the oars.
A minute or two later they were alongside, having nothing to fear from the half-sunken canoe, whose occupants were struggling to keep themselves afloat till they could urge the portions of the damaged vessel on to the sands.
"Quick, all of you," cried the captain, "and look out for the arrows.
What! wounded man! Here, two of you."
A couple of the crew ran to him, and poor Ned was lifted over the side and borne down into the cabin.
"Keep in shelter, Jack, my boy," cried Sir John, as he caught his son's hand. "The arrows are coming in like hail. You are sure you are not wounded?"
"Quite, father; I'm all right," said Jack, as he stepped on deck.
"Is Edward much hurt?"
"Here's Doctor Instow, ask him," said the boy, as the doctor came up out of the boat, the last man but those who were hooking on the falls, to be run up.
"Ned? I can't say yet. Don't stop me. I'm not sneaking out of the fight, Meadows. I must go down to the poor lad."
"Speared?"
"An arrow. For goodness' sake keep in shelter, for I'm afraid they're poisoned."
"Glad to see you back safe," cried the captain, hurrying up to him. "I can talk to the miserable wretches now. Hi! there, forward. Come away from those guns. Capstan-bars, all of you. Keep in shelter, and down with every one who tries to get on board; but mind the spears."
A few more orders were given, a tub to buoy the cable thrown over the side, and the yacht began to glide steadily with the tide, as the engine clanked, and the motion of the shaft produced its regular vibration through the graceful vessel, with only two men visible to those in the canoes--the captain and the man at the wheel, and they both sheltering themselves from the black marksmen as well as they could, the sailor kneeling on the grating.
The savages in three canoes uttered a furious yelling, and plunged their paddles over the sides to attack in front and on both quarters, but one was a little late in crossing the yacht's bows, and the next minute, with full steam ahead, and in obedience to movements of the captain's hands, the sharp prow of the swift vessel struck the sluggish canoe full in the side about 'midships. Then a dull crashing sound, but no perceptible shock. The _Silver Star_ cut the canoe cleanly in two, and the portions of the destroyed vessel floated by on either side, coming in collision with the others, which after closing in with a vain attempt to board, grated against the yacht and were then left far astern.
It was all the matter of a minute. A few black heads appeared above the bulwarks, as their owners leaped up and tried to climb on deck, but a sharp blow, rarely repeated, sent them back into the lagoon with a splash, to swim to the floating canoes, and the fight was over, save that an arrow or two came whizzing to stick in the white planks; but the enemy was too much engaged in picking up the swimming warriors to continue their assault.
"There," cried the captain, rubbing his hands. "Your men-of-war may carry the biggest guns they like, and their crews may be drilled to the greatest perfection, but to my mind nothing comes up to the management of the craft under a good head of steam. Now, Sir John, shall we give them a few rounds of grape-shot, or let the poor wretches study the lesson they have had?"
"No, no," cried Jack eagerly, "they're beaten; let them go."
Sir John nodded his approval, saying nothing, for he seemed eager to let his son come well to the front.
"Very good," said the captain. "Then I think we'll run outside and lie-to a mile or so beyond the reef, and see what they mean to do, for I suppose you don't want to give up the island to the enemy!"
"No, it would be a pity," said Sir John, "just when we are getting on so well. But what do you say, Bradleigh, will not this be a sufficient lesson for them?"
"It ought to be, sir; but we are dealing with savages, and I will not venture to say."
The steward came hurrying up at that moment, to give a sharp look-out for danger, but seeing the enemy far astern, and the yacht gliding swiftly along toward the open sea, he walked confidently to where the group stood by the wheel.
"Doctor Instow would be glad if you would come into the cabin, Sir John."
"It's about, Ned," cried Jack. "I'd forgotten him."
He ran to the cabin hatch, and Sir John followed quickly.
"Hah!" cried the doctor. "I'm glad you've come. He's very bad, Jack.
Yes, very bad, Meadows, poor lad."
"But from a wound like that?" said Sir John, and he and his son bent over the poor fellow where he lay on one of the cabin settees, with his eyes wide open, and looking very fixed and strange.
"Yes, from a wound like that," replied the doctor. "It would be nothing in an ordinary way, but I saved the head of the arrow which passed through his arm, and it and the top of the shaft had been well smeared with some abominable preparation. The poison is affecting his system in a very peculiar manner."
"Can he hear what you say?" whispered Jack anxiously.
"No; he is quite insensible. He was talking wildly a few minutes ago, but he could not understand a word."
"Surely you don't think it will prove fatal?" said Sir John.
The doctor was silent.
"Oh, Doctor Instow," cried Jack in agony, "this is too terrible. The poor fellow came out for what he looked upon as a pleasure-trip, and now he is like this. Oh, pray do something."
"My boy," said the doctor gravely, "I have done everything possible."
"But try something else," cried Jack angrily. "I thought doctors could do anything with medicine."
"I wish they could," said his father's friend sadly; "but it is at times like this, Jack, we doctors and surgeons find out how small our powers are."
"But only this morning he was so happy and full of life and fun," cried Jack, as he sank on his knees by the couch to take the poor fellow's cold hand in his. "It seems too hard to believe. Ned! Ned! you can hear what I say?"
There was no reply, and the boy looked wildly from one to the other.
"Oh, father," he cried, as he saw their grave looks, "is he dying?"
Sir John was silent, and Jack caught at the doctor's hand.
"Tell me," he cried. "But it can't be so bad as that. It would be too dreadful for him to die."
"He is very bad," said the doctor slowly, "but I have not given up all hope. It is like this, Meadows. The poison is passing through his system, and in my ignorance of what that poison really is, I am so helpless in my attempts to neutralise it. Even if I knew it would be desperate work."
"Then you can do nothing?" cried Jack in agony.
"I can do little more, my lad, but help him in his struggle against it.
The battle is going on between a strong healthy man and the insidious enemy sapping his life. Nature is the great physician here."
Jack uttered a piteous groan, and still knelt by the couch, holding the poor fellow's hand, watching every painful breath he drew, and noting the strange change in his countenance, and the peculiar spasms which convulsed him from time to time, but without his being conscious of the pain.
As Jack knelt there it seemed to him that it was in a kind of confused dream that he heard his father's questions and the doctor's replies, as, after some ministration or another, they walked to the end of the cabin.
Then the captain came down softly.