Birds of Prey - Smith Wilbur (версия книг TXT) 📗
Instantly he recovered his balance and leapt over Maatzuyker's body just as another musket shot crashed out and the pellets hissed past his head. The soldier who had fired was fumbling with his powder flask as he tried to reload and Hal ran straight at him. The musketeer looked up in fright, then dropped his empty weapon and turned his back to run.
Hal would not use the point again but slashed at the man's neck, just below his ear. The razor edge cut to the bone, and the side of his neck opened like a grinning red mouth. The man dropped without a sound. But all around him the bushes were alive with green-jacketed figures. Hal realized there must be hundreds of them. This was not a raiding party but a small army attacking the encampment.
He heard shouts of alarm and anger, and now a constant barrage of musket fire, much of it wild and undirected, but some slashing into the undergrowth close on either side of him as he ran with all his speed and strength. In the midst of the uproar Hal recognized, by its power and authority, one stentorian voice.
"Get that man!" it bellowed in Dutch. "Don't let him get away! I want that one." Hal glanced in the direction from which it was coming, and almost tripped with the shock of seeing Cornelius Schreuder racing through the trees to head him off. His Hat and wig flew from his head, but the ribbons and sash of his rank were gold. His shaven head gleamed like an eggshell. His moustaches were scored heavily across his face. For such a big man, he was fast on his feet, but fear made Hal faster.
"I want you!" Schreuder yelled. "This time you will not get away."
Hal put on a burst of speed and, within thirty flying paces, had forged ahead to see the stockade of the encampment through the trees. It was deserted and he realized that his father and every other man would have been decoyed away to the lagoon's edge by the heavy fire of the two warships, and that they must be manning the culver ins in the emplacements.
"To arms!" he screamed as he ran, with Schreuder pounding along only ten paces behind him. "Rally to me, the Resolution, In your rear!" As he burst into camp he saw, with huge relief, Big Daniel and a dozen seamen responding to his call, rushing back from the beach to support him. Immediately Hal rounded on the Dutchman.
"Come, then," he said, and went on guard. But Schreuder came up short as he saw the Resolution's men bearing down on him and realized that he had outrun his own troops, had left them without a leader, and was now outnumbered twelve to one.
"Again you are lucky, puppy," he snarled at Hal. "But before this day ends, you and I will speak again."
Thirty paces behind Hal, Big Daniel pulled up short and lifted the musket he carried. He aimed at Schreuder but, as the lock snapped, the Colonel ducked and spun on his heels, the shot went wide and he bounded back into the forest, shouting to rally his attacking musketeers as they came swarming forward through the trees.
"Master Daniel," Hal panted, "the Dutchman leads a strong force. The forest is full of men."
"How many?"
"A hundred or more. There!" He pointed as the first of the attackers came running and dodging towards them, stopping to fire and reload their muskets, then running forward again.
"What's worse, there are two warships in the bay," Daniel told him. "One is the Gull but the other is a Dutch frigate." "I saw them from the hill." Hal had recovered his breath.
"We are outgunned in front and outnumbered in the rear. We cannot stand here. They will be on us in a minute. Back to the beach."
The coloured troops behind them clamoured like a pack of hounds as Hal turned and led his men back at a run. Ball and shot thrummed and whistled around them, kicking up spurts of damp earth at their heels, speeding them on their way.
Through the trees he could see the piled earth of the gun emplacements and the drifting bank of gunsmoke. He could make out the heads of his own gunners as they reloaded the culver ins Out in the lagoon the stately Dutch frigate bore down on the shore, wreathed in her own powder smoke. As Hal watched, she put her helm over, bringing her broadside to bear, and again her gun ports bloomed with great flashes of flame. Seconds later the thunder of the cannonade and the blast of howling grape shot swept over them.
Hal flinched in the turmoil of disrupted air, his eardrums singing. Whole trees crashed down, and branches and leaves rained upon them. Directly in front of him he saw one of the culver ins hit squarely, and hurled off its train. The bodies of two of the Resolution's sailors were sent spinning high into the air.
"Father, where are you?" Hal tried to make himself heard in the pandemonium but then, through it all, he heard Sir Francis's voice.
"Stand to your guns, lads. Aim at the Dutchmen's ports. Give those cheese-heads out there some of our good English cheer."
Hal leapt down into the gun pit beside his father, seized his arm and shook it urgently.
"Where have you been, boy?" Sir Francis glanced at him, but when he saw the blood on his clothing he did not wait for an answer. Instead he grunted, "Take command of the guns on the left flank. Direct your fire, -" Hal interrupted, in a breathless rush, "The enemy ships are only creating a diversion, Father. The real danger is in our rear. The forest is full of Dutch soldiers, hundreds of them." He pointed back with his blood-stained blade. "They'll be on us in a minute."
Sir Francis did not hesitate. "Go down the line of guns. Order every second culverin to be swung round and loaded with grape. The front guns continue to engage the ships, but hold your fire with the back guns until the attack in our rear is point-blank. I will give the order to fire. Now, go!" As Hal scrambled out of the pit, Sir Francis turned to Big Daniel. "Take these men of yours, and any other loafers you can find, go back and slow the enemy advance in our rear. Hal raced down the line, pausing beside each gun pit to shout his orders and then running on. The sound of the barrage and the answering fire from the beach was deafening and confusing. He reeled and almost went sprawling to the ground as another broadside from the black frigate swept over him like the devil-winds of a typhoon, smashing through the forest and ploughing the earth around him. He shook his head to clear it and ran on, hurdling a fallen tree-trunk.
