Cheyenne transporter. [volume] (Darlington, Indian Terr.) 1879-1886, 1881-02-25


gazing intently through IA pair of bi-
nocular glasses at a Chinese craft that
was advancing, with furled sails, in
the dead calm. being propelled by an
array of oars that flashed and gltered
in the phosphorescent waters.
"IIe's an ugly customer, and no mis-
take. We shan't have much of show
if he attacks us; but, at all events,
| will let him see that we are on
the alert. Perhaps we can manage to
intimidate him." he said, us he stopped
down and commenced casting adrift
the lashings of a small caSt-iron four
FOUNDER, that was only useful as a sig
nal gun.
Directly this unformidable cannon
was loaded with la blank cartridge and
discharged, the Junk altered her course,
and passed under our stern a consider
able distance away. Captain Moore,
when he noticed this movement, was
inclined to believe that she was a mere
trading junk.
At midnight retired to my berth
and had just sunk in the sweet en-
brace of sleep. when | was startled to
wakfulness by the boom of Il heavy
gun, while the crash OF falling spars
mingling with its echoing thunder,
told me plainly that our vessel was
attacked, and that the first shot had
taken terrible effect upon her.
grasped my revolver and rushed
through the saloon toward the COM
panion-way. only halting for an instant
near the miZzen mast to CLEAN a cut
lass from the rack which surrounded
it ere / ascended to the deck. The
scene that met my eyes on gaining it
battles all description. Tangled cord
age. rent sails and riyen spars lay in
confused heaps around, and from un-
der the cahotic ruin, issued deep
groans of agony from the wounded and
dying, while myriads of torches aboard
"A huge junk that had ranged alongside
shed across the sea IL weird, yellow
glare, revealing only too plainly the
dread effects of wanton carnage.
Again and again did our relentless
foe discharge his broadsides into our
doomed ship, incessant was the deadly
rain of shot that poured across our
decks, until the life blood of our gal
liant crew lay in pools around, and fur
ther resistance on our part seemed i'm
possible. Then the artillery peals died
away i'll the ringing war cry, that broke
from our assailants when they per-
ceived our utter discontinue: and rs
the junk ran under our bows, Il multi
tude of fierce demons, powder-grimmed
and Unsuitable in their lust for blood,
clambered to our deck and pressed
their way aft. The fallen spars and
impediments effectually
prevented any one passing along the
port side; so Captain Moore, three sea-
men and myself. the only survivors,
rushed into the alley-way to starboard
of the deck house, and there stood res
olutely at bay,
Our murderous antagonists possessed
no firearms, but each one carried a
short, ponderOus native sword called Il
pd keen, these, however, were of but
little avail against the winged messeng-
ers of death our trusty revolvers sent
into the midst of the advancing horde,
until it became apparent to them and
to us that our ammunition was giving
out.
Find Lottie, Mr.. Carter. We have
no chance; but, for Gods sake, save
her from these merciless wretches.
Kill her, if you cannot; | have my
death wound now," cried the scipper,
addressing me in accents that betrayed
the most acute suffering.
| sprang down the cabin stairway,
and found the fair girl kneeling at the
table imploring succor from on high.