At the same
moment, with a hideous yell, hundreds of black figures leaped to their
feet on the beach, and rushed towards the, as yet, unseen position of
the English.
The captain shouted "Fire!" and the twenty guns on the plateau poured
their fire simultaneously into the side of the brig. The captain then
gave orders that two of the light guns should be run along the
terrace, to take position on the flanks, and aid the soldiers against
the attacks.
This time Charlie had lent his rifle to Peters, and was himself armed
with his double-barrel gun.
"Steady, boys," Mr. Hallam, the ensign who commanded the soldiers at
the side where Charlie was stationed, cried; "don't fire a shot till I
give the word, and then aim low."
With terrific yells the throng of natives, waving curved swords,
spears, and clubs, rushed forward. The steep ascent checked them, but
they rushed up until within ten yards of the line of soldiers on its
brow. Then Mr. Hallam gave the word to fire, and the soldiers and
passengers poured a withering volley into them.
At so short a distance, the effect was tremendous. Completely swept
away, the leading rank fell down among their comrades; and these, for
a moment, recoiled.
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