The boys had just pulled around the _Day Dream_ when the main body of mutineers burst out of the bushes, and the shower of bullets which they sent, without waiting to take accurate aim, did no injury to any one.
Mr. Jenkins had opened the battle by hurling a handspike with such good effect that the taller sailor was knocked over like a ninepin, and the other, realizing how useless it would be to contend against such odds, leaped into the sea, swimming for dear life as those on the shore continued to discharge their weapons.
“Keep under the rail as much as possible,” Captain Mansfield shouted, as he set the example by crouching where he could get a view of the shore without exposing too much of his body. “They can’t have any very great amount of ammunition, and it isn’t likely either of that crowd has got the nerve to swim out here.”
Andy was the only one who did not follow this suggestion instantly. The old darky was so elated at the complete turning of the tables that it seemed absolutely necessary to give vent in some way to his joy.
He danced around the deck in full view of the angry men on shore, shouting in a sing-song tone:
“Wese done got de bes’ ob dem villyns! Glory to de Lam’! Wese ’board de yacht once mo’! Glory to de Lam’! Wese gwine---- Hi, yi, yi!”
These last exclamations were by no means a portion of his song of triumph; but just at that moment a bullet from one of the rifles had grazed the top of his ear, causing more pain than a really serious wound would have done, and, with a howl of terror, he flung himself down by Captain Mansfield’s side, where he alternately moaned and continued to cry:
After having fired four or five rounds of ammunition without other effect than the grazing of Andy’s ear, the mutineers appeared to have grown tired of such useless work, and ceased to waste their cartridges.
The calm was still “raging.” There was not wind enough to have caused any perceptible motion in a feather, and those who had taken possession of their own again could not do otherwise than remain idle, waiting for that which, by filling the white sails, would carry them far from their enemies.
On the shore the mutineers sat watching the schooner, unable to do anything toward regaining her, and, as Jenkins expressed it, “eating their hearts out” with anger, because they had been so foolish as to take all the weapons ashore, leaving the ship-keepers virtually defenseless.