Don was silent, for Jem had given him something terrible to dwell upon as he tried to think.
At last he spoke again.
“Where are the enemy, Jem?”
“Enemy, indeed!” growled Jem. “Savages like them don’t deserve such a fine name. Brutes!”
“But where are they? Did you see what they did?”
“See? Yes. Don’t ask me.”
“But where are they?”
“Sleep. Drunk, I think. After they’d tied us prisoners all up and shut up all the women and children in the big whare, what do you think they did?”
“Kill them?”
“Killed ’em? No. Lit fires, and set to and had a reg’lar feast, and danced about—them as could!” added Jem with a chuckle. “Some on ’em had got too many holes in ’em to enjoy dancing much. But, Mas’ Don.”