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It was Jim's Mannlicher which spoke, but the bullet missed its aim. The dacoits at work about the big jingal had artfully placed the weapon so that its mouth pointed from between two close-growing teak saplings, and the trees formed a safe cover for the gunners. "I thought I could pick one of 'em off that time," remarked Jim, "but I believe I only hit a tree after all."
"We shall have to stop that or the door will be down." "Sure thing," said Buck, "an' those little tigers away to the left o' the jingal are massing for a rush as soon as the gunners have worked the door loose." "You're right, Buck," said Jack, who had returned to his window. "Look here," he went on, "there are three windows facing that patch of jungle where the dacoits are clustered.
There was no longer time, though, for any more pot shots; for, with a wild savage howl and the beating of drums and gongs again, mingled with a shower of jingal balls over the ship, the proa struck against the fore-chains on our starboard bow, one of the junks steering to our port side at the same time, while another remained across our stern and raked us fore and aft with round shot, there being a couple of hundred at least of the bloodthirsty demons in the three craft assailing us.
The first band of fugitives saw us and bolted to the north, one man loosing off his rifle at us as he ran, and his bullet making an ugly swish in the air just above our heads. It was that Chinese hip-shot which is practised with jingal and matchlock in the native hunting, and which these Northern Chinese can with difficulty unlearn.
"I guess he can, Jim. He put on a very pretty string o' bull's-eyes at Bisley, shootin' in the competition for public schools. The Professor grinned all over his face when he read how Jack headed the list with a highest possible." Buck's speech was cut short by a loud roar from the jingal. The fallen dacoit had trained it perfectly before he dropped, and a comrade now touched off the piece.
The jingal, a big muzzle-loader on a stand of iron forks, was touched off and a heavy shot crashed into the door. "Whew!" whistled Jim. "That's a heavier shot than I thought. That bit of iron weighed nearer half a pound than anything." "It's cut into the door pretty badly," cried Jack, who had run forward to look, and found a long streak of white in the plank which had been struck.
"They'll come again soon," muttered Jim Dent. "We must pump lead into 'em like mad as they cross the open, then hold the doorway as long as we can." "Yes," agreed Jack. "We must not let them get in if there's any way of keeping them out. Once they surround us, their dahs will finish the struggle in a few strokes." "Say, I fancy I see a bunch of 'em just beyond the jingal," said Buck.
"Yes, they'll do their level best to cut our throats," agreed Jim. "They're like a nest of hornets. Touch one and you've touched the lot." "Hullo, they're bringing something forward," cried Jack. "It looks like a clumsy gun on a stand." "That's a jingal," said Jim. "They're laying it for the door. We'll get out of the way.
I don't see how we're going to stop 'em gettin' the door down now. It's pure luck firin' into that tangle." Within the next half hour Buck's fears were verified. Shot after shot was launched from the heavy jingal, and at the short range the gunners found the door an easy mark, and pounded it again and again until it was utterly shattered, and the opening into their stronghold was left defenceless.
The jingal was fired no more, the musketry had dropped, and the stillness remained perfectly unbroken. Anyone less experienced in jungle warfare than Jim Dent would have concluded that the fierce Kachins for once had had their fill of fighting, and had retired towards their fastnesses among the hills. But he bade his comrades stand close and be ready. "There is some trick in the wind," he said.
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