But this was not so easily answered.  There had come many from the north—­seven by the squire’s computation, eight or nine according to Gray.  From the east and west only a single shot had been fired.  It was plain, therefore, that the attack would be developed from the north and that on the other three sides we were only to be annoyed by a show of hostilities.  But Captain Smollett made no change in his arrangements.  If the mutineers succeeded in crossing the stockade, he argued, they would take possession of any unprotected loophole and shoot us down like rats in our own stronghold.

Nor had we much time left to us for thought.  Suddenly, with a loud huzza, a little cloud of pirates leaped from the woods on the north side and ran straight on the stockade.  At the same moment, the fire was once more opened from the woods, and a rifle ball sang through the doorway and knocked the doctor’s musket into bits.

The boarders swarmed over the fence like monkeys.  Squire and Gray fired again and yet again; three men fell, one forwards into the enclosure, two back on the outside.  But of these, one was evidently more frightened than hurt, for he was on his feet again in a crack and instantly disappeared among the trees.

Two had bit the dust, one had fled, four had made good their footing inside our defences, while from the shelter of the woods seven or eight men, each evidently supplied with several muskets, kept up a hot though useless fire on the log-house.

The four who had boarded made straight before them for the building, shouting as they ran, and the men among the trees shouted back to encourage them.  Several shots were fired, but such was the hurry of the marksmen that not one appears to have taken effect.  In a moment, the four pirates had swarmed up the mound and were upon us.

The head of Job Anderson, the boatswain, appeared at the middle loophole.

“At ’em, all hands—­all hands!” he roared in a voice of thunder.

At the same moment, another pirate grasped Hunter’s musket by the muzzle, wrenched it from his hands, plucked it through the loophole, and with one stunning blow, laid the poor fellow senseless on the floor.  Meanwhile a third, running unharmed all around the house, appeared suddenly in the doorway and fell with his cutlass on the doctor.

Our position was utterly reversed.  A moment since we were firing, under cover, at an exposed enemy; now it was we who lay uncovered and could not return a blow.

The log-house was full of smoke, to which we owed our comparative safety.  Cries and confusion, the flashes and reports of pistol-shots, and one loud groan rang in my ears.

“Out, lads, out, and fight ’em in the open!  Cutlasses!” cried the captain.

I snatched a cutlass from the pile, and someone, at the same time snatching another, gave me a cut across the knuckles which I hardly felt.  I dashed out of the door into the clear sunlight.  Someone was close behind, I knew not whom.  Right in front, the doctor was pursuing his assailant down the hill, and just as my eyes fell upon him, beat down his guard and sent him sprawling on his back with a great slash across the face.