Free Off the Mangrove Coast (Ss) (2000) by Louis L'amour Page A

Bassett had a nasty wound over the eye where he had been struck by something, and where blood stained his face it had been wiped and smeared. Limey Johnson was standing a dozen feet away, only now he was drawing back, away from us.
    He looked at the harpoon in my hands and I saw him wet his lips, but I said nothing at all. Bassett was helping me out of the helmet, and I dared not take my eyes from Johnson.
    His face was working strangely, a grotesque mask of yellowish-white wherein the eyes seemed unbelievably large. He reached back and took up a long boat hook. There was a driftwood club at my feet, and this must have been what had struck Bassett. They must have rushed him at first, or Long Jack had tried to get close, and had come too close.
    When I dropped the weight belt and kicked off the boots, Smoke was scarcely able to stand. And I could see the blow that had hit him had almost wrecked the side of his face and skull. "You all right? You all right, Scholar?" His voice was slurred.
    "I'm all right. Take it easy. I'll handle it now." Limey Johnson faced me with his new weapon, and slowly his courage was returning. Smoke Bassett he had. feared, and Smoke was nearly helpless. It was Limey and me now; one of us was almost through.
    Overhead the sun was blazing ... the fetid smell of the mangroves and the swamp was wafted to the ketch from over the calm beauty of the lagoon. The sea was down, and the surf rustled along the reef, chuckling and sucking in the holes and murmuring in the deep caverns.
    Sweat trickled into my eyes and I stood there, facing Limey Johnson across that narrow deck. Short, heavy, powerful ... a man who had sent me down to the foulest kind of death, a man who must kill now if he would live.
    I reached behind me to the rail and took up the harpoon. It was razor sharp.
    His hook was longer ... he outreached me by several feet. I had to get close ... close.
    In my bare feet, I moved out away from Smoke, and Limey began to move warily, watching for his chance, that ugly hook poised to tear at me. To throw the harpoon was to risk my only weapon, and risk it in his hands, for I could not be sure of my accuracy. I had to keep it, and thrust. I had to get close. The diving dress was some protection but it was clumsy and I would be slow.
    There was no sound ... the hot sun, the blue sky, the heavy green of the mangroves, the sucking of water among the holes of the coral ... the slight sound of our breathing and the rustle and slap of our feet on the deck.
    He struck with incredible swiftness. The boat hook darted and jerked back. The hook was behind my neck, and only the nearness of the pole and my boxer's training saved me. I jerked my head aside and felt the thin sharpness of the point as it whipped past my neck, but before I could spring close enough to thrust, he stepped back and bracing himself, he thrust at me. The curve of the hook hit my shoulder and pushed me off balance. I fell back against the bulwark, caught myself, and he lunged to get closer. Three times he whipped the hook and jerked at me. Once I almost caught the pole, but he was too quick.
    I tried to maneuver ... then realized I had to get outside of the hook's curve ... to move to my left, then try for a thrust either over or under the pole. In the narrow space between the low deck house and the rail there was little room to maneuver.
    I moved left, the hook started to turn, and I lunged suddenly and stabbed. The point just caught him ... the side of his singlet above the belt started to redden. His face looked drawn, I moved again, parried a lunge with the hook, and thrust again, too short. But I knew how to fight him now ... and he knew too.
    He tried, and I parried again, then thrust. The harpoon point just touched him again, and it drew blood. He stepped back, then crossed the deck and thrust at me under the yard, his longer reach had more advantage now, with the deck house between us, and he was working his way back toward the stern. It