Then he went back to the Good Wolf. He was rather hot and out of breath with excitement and he fanned himself with his hat.
"Even Robinson Crusoe never went to a pirate's battle," he said. "This is the biggest adventure of all. Let's go and look over the side and see what the other pirates are doing."
Evidently Baboo Bajorum had given his gunners orders to stop firing, because they had left their cannons and with the rest of the crew had run to the side and were leaning over watching their conquered enemies just as Barty wanted to do. The Impolite Pirates, all black with smoke and powder, were looking very much frightened. They had got into their boats and were rowing away from their sinking ship, but they plainly did not know which way to go, because they realized that if Baboo Bajorum began to fire his cannons at them he would blow them to smithereens. In fact, they could not understand why he did not blow them to smithereens immediately, and it made them feel very nervous. Of course they had not the least idea that Barty and the Good Wolf were on board, or perhaps they would have known that Barty was the kind of little boy who would not like to see pieces of pirates flying about in the air, even though he had felt that a pirates' battle was a sort of accommodation to him.
Their ship tilted more and more and at last sank down and down into the water, until it was out of sight. The cannon balls had smashed such big holes in it that the sea filled it directly. And the Impolite Pirates bent over their oars and rowed and looked back over their shoulders at Baboo Bajorum's ship in a frightened manner. They were saying to each other, "What is he going to do next?"
You see the trouble was, that however fast they rowed, they could not get away because Baboo Bajorum's ship was quietly sailing after them and they were so tired with fighting that they could scarcely row at all.
"And where do they think they are going to row to?" said the Polite Pirate captain. "They have neither food nor water in their boats and of course they are afraid to row towards the Desert Island, because we can stop them. They will simply perish if they row out on the high seas."
"Perish," said Barty.
He had once read a story about shipwrecked sailors perishing on the high seas, and it had made him cry. "I don't believe I want them to perish. I should not like to perish myself and neither would you. Now, would you?"
"No," answered the captain, "I should not. Nobody would. Perishing is about as unpleasant a thing as could happen to any man."
"I will go," said Barty, determinedly, "and speak to Mr. Bajorum."