How the Launch was Saved.

Thames Star, Volume XXX, Issue 9111, 4 July 1898, Page 4

How the Launch was Saved.

The launch shivered : a low gurgling noise rose from beneath her, and at last she dragged her keel out of the mud and shot into deep water, safely afloat. It was only in time, for a chorus of yells, whistles and hisses rose from the river men, and the canoes came surging through the water, a short 50 yards away "Stand by the machine gnu, Amadu! Every man flat on deck with his rifle! Hard astern, engineer !" The sharp commands rang out clearly, and the black engineer trembled as he obeyed, wishing himself, more devoutly than ever, back again in the snug launch at Lagos. The launch backed away stern first, accelerating her speed as she went, and the tribesmen looked on in amazement; then they whirled their paddles madly, lest the prey should fall into the hands of their comrades higher up the river. The lieutenant, who sat with drawn face, gripping the iron tiller until the knuckles shone white through his yellow skin, started as he felt a touch on his arm, and saw the sick trader lying on the deck behind him, a mere bundle of torn rags and thinly covered bone, cuddling the stock of a Snider in his claw-like hands. " Get below, man —quick » This is no place for you," he said hoarsely. "Blue tattoo—circles, and dots in relief," the figure replied in a hollow voice : " three cheek slashes—l know them well; that's the tribe that killed poor Thornton and stole my rubber. I've long score to settle;" and the gaunt scarecrow, raising itself on one hand, said something in an unknown tongue, at which the Yorubas shouted in grim delight. " Silence, there!" said the lieutenant sternly, carefully estimating the distance between the launch and the approaching canoes. Then his voice rose, harsh and cracked, " Full speed ahead, engineer! Wait the word to fire, then hold on all!" The black artificer pulled over the link, the launch slowly stopped, and then, gathering way again, swept on faster and faster, straight for the centre of the flotilla, the muddy river roaring apart beneath her bows, while each man held his breath.

There was a great flashing and spluttering of flintlock guns! The front of the flotilla was veiled in whirling smoke, and a shower of ragged iron screamed by overhead, tearing the awnings to ribbons. But, fond as he is of firearms, the West African is a most indifferent marks' man, and glancing quickly at the prostrate figures along the deck, the lieutenant saw there was no one touched. The next moment he raised his hand ; there was a ringing report, a jarring vibration,followea by a rapid ! crash of firing, and the launohv.was wrapped about in acrid, blue vjroour. Then the roar of the machine gun ceased,and a choking voice came out of the smoke, " Breech block jam, sah."

" The usual nigger trick with a machine gun; remember, Jawtoun," said a voice at the lieutenant's feet; but the only answer was a yell of " Hold on there; then give it them with the Snider!" and the launch rushed at top speed into the smoke. " You would have it, and by George you shall!" hissed the lieutenant through his teeth. The next moment there was a crash, a loud rending of timber and snapping of paddles, followed by screams, shouts and curses, as the launch plunged right into the midst of the canoes, her steel stem crushing in the soft cotton wood like cardboard, and piling the light craft one over another in a chaos of ruin, while, either by accident of intent, the black engineer had opened the whistle and a splitting scream shrilled through the pandemonium. But the savage inhabitants of the Niger swamps are not all cowards, and swim like fishes; and as the little vessel sawed her way through the frail barrier, black arms rose from amidst the wreckage, and drippiig, naked figures, made desperate attempts to climb on board, while the Sniders flashed and hammored, or brass bound butts rose and fell like flails, as each man fought hard for his own right hand. The old savage blood stirred again in the heart of the cowardly engineer, and, forgetting the teaching of the good missionaries at Lago3, he he laid about him left and right with the keen edge of a coal shovel; while the sick trader, lying at full length upon the hatch, fired as fast as he could thrust cartridges into the hot chamber of his rifle.

How long it took the lieutenant could never be sure; perhaps two; and then, with her whistle still screaming shrill defiance, the launch was flying down the river, while the yellow waters astern were cumbered with a

mass of overturned canoes and swimming heads, among which the uniured craft were frantically paddling. There was blood upon her nil, and the awnings were rent and tattered ; but though several of the Yorubas were wouDded. bo one was seriously hurt.—Maximilian's Magazine.