“Have a doughnut,” he roared, “you dhirty chinks!” He had thrown with all his strength, and with considerable skill, so that the contents of the dipper were dashed upon a good many of the men, and scattered into drops. The drops fell upon the bare bodies like a rain of fire, and every drop sizzled where it struck, literally frying the Chinese in spots. There was a yell from our men at Kane’s success, and frenzied yells of pain came from the junk. Kane had turned at once, and ran back to fill his dipper again. Many men followed him, to grab whatever they could lay hands upon which would hold oil. I was among the first to turn and run, thrusting my boarding-knife into Peter’s hands, and bidding him hold it. {303} The decks, of course, were almost swimming in oil and greasy dirt, as we had been in the middle of trying-out. As I ran I heard a shout from Peter to duck. At the same instant I fell flat upon my face on the deck, and a long knife whistled over my head, striking against the bricks of the try-works. It was a piece of good luck, with no effort of mine contributing. I had merely stepped in a puddle of oil, and my foot had slipped. By the time I had got to my feet again, there was nothing left to dip the oil with, and I went back to my post beside Peter. Kane had thrown a second dipperful of oil, with as great success as the first, and there was now a continuous shower of hot oil crossing the widening gulf between the vessels. The junk had given up the attempt to board us, and was only anxious to get away, her men pushing with long poles, while exposing their bodies as little as possible. The junk slowly dropped astern, helped by much pushing and some drifting. As she had come down upon us from the windward, she could not get off directly; but the Clearchus was forging ahead a little. Hot oil was showered upon the junk while she was within range of the men, but the officers, their guns held ready, withheld their fire, and at last she cleared us. As she cleared our stern, and her sails filled and she stood to leeward, her men were still shouting in agony, some of the worst burned clawing at their bodies. Presently a man jumped overboard. He sank from sight, and I did not see him come up again. Then another jumped, and another; and then two together. All four came up again, but the junk made no attempt to pick them up, and the men made no attempt to swim, so far as I could see. They just lay there, bobbing on the surface or under it, now in plain sight, now out of sight, until they disappeared. We had made no move to pick them up, which worried me somewhat, and finally I spoke to Mr. Baker, who passed near. Two of the Chinese were still afloat. {304} “Are n’t we going to pick up those men, Mr. Baker?” “What men?” he asked. “Any of our men overboard? Don’t seem so. If any of those yellow pirates are overboard, the junk can pick ’em up if she wants to. What we do is the Cap’n’s business, not yours or mine, Tim.”