Ah! then, he said to himself, the fun would begin. He would roast some alive. "Man meat", as these cannibals call human flesh, which, by the way, is sold openly in the market-place, is ever so much more tender and juicy when cooked alive. Well, the king made up his mind to roast a few; he would torture and crucify others on trees, with widely-extended arms and legs, and wooden pegs nailed through the flesh of feet, legs, and arms to hold them up. Others, again, he would tie to stakes, where he could see them starve to death in the broiling sunshine, half-eaten alive at night by loathsome beetles and other fearful insects. All the rest he would either behead, or hand over to the women to be tied down and slowly disembowelled alive!
That was the programme.
And now it was to be carried out. So the king believed. The British tars and marines were well stationed on slightly rising ground, half-sheltered by straggling bush, and were all ready when the enemy appeared in his thousands.
Mercy on us, how they yelled, and waved aloft shield and spear or guns, as they came on like a black and awful avalanche!
They fired first, and a few of our fellows fell, but only wounded.
"Reserve your fire, lads, till they get nearer!" cried Flint, for the blood of the sailors was getting hot.
Still on came that yelling avalanche. The sailors could see their red mouths, flashing teeth, and fearful eyes, when the captain shouted:
"Aim low, lads. Fire!"
That was a splendid volley!
Its effects were startling. The enemy was packed together, and some of the British bullets must have killed or wounded two at a time. It was followed up by others quite as good, and the dark skins, kicking and squirming like wounded rats, blackened the ground as their comrades sprang past or over them.