But the enemy were beaten, routed, and almost annihilated.
Harry had always been a hero with this kindly-hearted king, now he was almost a god.
“You are a great man!” the king shouted, rushing to meet and shake him by the hand. “Oh, brother, what should I have done but for you! Our warriors would have been tortured, burned, slain, and our wives and little ones dragged away into a captivity worse than death.”
Harry pointed skywards.
“Yes, yes, I know,” cried the king. “It was the Eye; I knew He would give us the victory.”
“Stay,” said Harry, seriously, “I fear the worst fighting is still before us. On shore I mean, for hardly will the enemy care to or dare to attack you by water again. We must land this very evening. The foe is now beaten and demoralised, let us follow up our success without a moment’s delay.”
And so it was arranged.
The wounded were seen to, and as soon as the sun went down, which he did in a flood of calm beauty that night, just as if no bloodshed, grief, and murder was on the earth, the expedition started.
It started not in boats altogether, but along the strange sunken natural roadway, where from the shore Harry had first seen the king’s barge moving apparently of its own accord. Had the enemy known of this expedition from the hundred islands, things might have turned out differently from what they had done.
Enough men and amazons were left to defend the island in case of a repulse, the boats took the arms of all sorts and the provisions, the men themselves walked through the water or swam.