They leaned forward. It was a plan for a four-pointed earthwork, surrounded by a ditch. Near the tip of each point was an emplacement for a four-pounder gun, shielded by gabions musket-proof, earth-filled baskets improvised from saplings. This allowed each gun to be trained such that any attack must face at least two of them, while being held up by a palisade on the outside of the ditch, and pointed stakes sticking out of the bottom of it. It was a far more formidable design than Flint's old blockhouse — but that had never been intended as a serious fortification.
"What's this, Cap'n?" said Mr Joe, pointing to a circle drawn at the centre of the star.
"That's the redoubt," said Silver. "My orders to all hands should a fort look like falling — is to run. Just kill as many of 'em as you can, and then cut your cable and make for our nearest fort. But should you be surrounded and they're coming over the wall — why, then you gets in here as your last chance. It's an earthwork circle, raised higher than the rest, with a firing step inside, and muskets ready, and these — Israel…?"
Israel Hands reached into his bag of tools and brought out a rum bottle with a fuse sticking out of it.
"Grenado," he said. "It's packed with powder and pistol balls. You light the fuse, duck down and drop it over the wall. Don't have much range, but if the buggers is alongside of you, it'll blow right up the leg of their drawers!"
It was nearly noon by the time they were done, so there was no work until the mid-day heat had passed. But then Silver mustered all hands, gave them their orders, and marched the whole company northward, leaving only two men and a boy to guard Billy Bones. It was a long march with so many men and so much gear, and they didn't reach the northern inlet until the next day. But once there, Silver found great advantage in having the extra men. The battery, already marked out by Sarney Sawyer's men, was completed in four days, the men proving surprisingly cheerful and setting to with a will.
When they were done, six of the brass nine-pounders stood mounted on good carriages, on planked platforms, behind banked-up sand, revetted with timber, and ready with all necessary stores and tackles, and with powder and shot stored under weather-proof shelters. Six guns was a compromise, being as many as men could be spared for. The rest of the guns, Israel Hands ruined — to deprive Flint of their use — by laying each in turn on a pile of sand, close up before a mounted gun, and blowing off one of its trunions with a round-shot. It was dangerous work, with all hands kept clear and only Mr Hands or Mr Joe setting off the charges, Israel Hands insisting the latter do some of the work exclusively by himself, as part of his training, and which he did to Mr Hands's beaming satisfaction.
With the task complete, Silver stumped up and down the battery, parrot squawking on his shoulder, for a final inspection. Then he addressed the men. He praised them for their efforts, made them laugh at what the guns would do to Flint. Finally he surprised them.
"Now, listen to me, lads," he said, "for this here battery ain't meant to stop the enemy from landing."
"No?" they said.
"No, lads." He waved a hand at the inlet, which was four miles deep and a mile across at its widest. Standing on the sands between the waters and the trees, Silver and his men were just a speck on the beach. "There's too much room for boats to get round us," he said, "especially at night. So I've got other plans…"
They listened and they cheered him for it, and Silver smiled. The air was fresher up here, and the men were cheerful. Silver himself felt optimistic and threw off the depression that had sat on him since Billy Bones's rebellion. Things were looking better. Whenever he did return — and return he would, never doubt it — Flint would be met with round-shot, lead and steel.
Chapter 25
It was a perfect, beautiful day, if somewhat cold and stilclass="underline" the sky cloudless, the sea a perfect blue, and everything sharp and clear, with only the creaking of ship's timbers to be heard… that and the rhythmic splash of oars, and the chanting of the coxswains.
Flint was sure now that he couldn't escape by towing. He had too few seamen and the Patanq had suffered badly. Totally unused to the work, their hands and backs couldn't stand it. Walrus was barely moving. He looked across to Hercules on the larboard beam, and Sweet Anne straggling to starboard. It was the same for them. And he looked at the big warship, now less than a mile away, her shoal of boats packed with jolly tars who were making light of the work because of the prize money that was almost theirs.
"Bring up a gun, Mr Allardyce," said Flint. "Best gun we've got. And have the carpenter cut me a port here — " he pointed at the taffrail. "And send me as good a gun-crew as we've got. Oh, to have Israel Hands aboard now!" He looked round.
The stern was packed with idlers who couldn't resist watching the oncoming doom.
"Get forrard," said Flint, "every blasted one of you!" The hands moved at once. But Selena, Cowdray, Dreamer and Dark Hand hesitated.
"Joe," said Selena, "can you sink her — the big ship?"
Flint laughed.
"With a six-pounder? I doubt we can hit her at this range!"
"What about when it gets close?"
"Then she'll come broadside-on and turn her guns on us till we sink or strike."
"So why bother?"
"'Cos it's my life and my neck, and him that wants 'em will pay in blood!"
"Flint," Dreamer stepped forward.
"What do you want, damn you?"
"Here — " said Dreamer. He unfastened his belt and held it out.
"What's that?" said Flint, scowling.
"Tie this round the gun," said Dreamer.
"Why?"
"He never misses," said Dark Hand, "with gun or bow."
Flint looked at the belt. It was about three inches wide, made of coloured beads worked into a bizarre, zig-zag pattern. It had a cheap, English-made brass buckle.
"It is wampum," said Dark Hand. "It is a great honour."
"Your gun will shoot true," said Dreamer.
"Good heavens!" said Cowdray. "Migraine! May I see?"
"The belt it is not for you," said Dark Hand. "It is for Flint."
"But the patterns on the belt are those of a migraine attack."
Flint's heart thundered. The blood boiled in his veins. Insanity sparked in his eyes. Here he was, facing death, and these morons were discussing beads! One more word and he'd be stabbing and hacking till there wasn't a living creature stood within reach.
Cowdray adopted his most solicitous professional manner. He bowed to Dreamer and addressed him as if he were an alderman with the piles:
"Are you afflicted thus, my poor sir?"
Flint burst. He laughed hysterically. He laughed till he staggered. Then he wiped his eyes, turned nasty again and thrust everyone bodily from the stern, except those following his orders. And these orders were followed, at the double. The chance to do something had put life into the men.
A maindeck gun was heaved out of its carriage and hauled aft in lashings by a dozen men. The carriage followed and the gun was re-seated while the carpenter and his mates hacked a square hole in the taffrail and drove heavy ringbolts into either side. Meanwhile Flint hailed Hercules and Sweet Anne, and set their carpenters thumping and cutting too.
Walrus spoke first, with a crash and a roar, her gun bounding back, checked by tackles rove through the ringbolts.