As fast as they could the sailors and the rescued men made their way down the hill, but owing to the thickness of the trees it was impossible to run. They had gone but a short distance when there was an outburst of yells round them, and, looking back, Nat saw a number of blazing brands.
"You had better have kept in the dark," he muttered. "You would not have come so fast, but more of you would go back alive. Don't hurry, men," he said; "take it coolly. Take care of the trees. They are sure to come up to us, for they can see their way; but they won't be in such a hurry when we open fire again."
They were half-way down the hill when he gave the order: "You four men next to me turn round and pick off some of those fellows with torches. The rest halt in case they make a rush."
The four shots were fired one after the other. As many negroes fell.
“FOUR SHOTS WERE FIRED AND AS MANY NEGROES FELL.”
"Are you ready, lads? Four more fire!"
The shots had an equal success. Many of the negroes at once took refuge behind trees.
"That will do, men; on you go again! Don't make more noise than you can help. With all that yelling they won't be sure that we have moved."