When the latter saw their strongest warriors, who in battle were equal to a hundred men, fall by invisible weapons sent from a distance before they could reach their assailants with their battle axes, they began to retreat in confusion, left their huts and, dragging Kennedy and his men with them, climbed a steep hill, up which they could not be followed, and from which no efforts availed to draw them. Barthelemy, with wild delight, walked over the battle-ground, counting the corpses. They had all been victims of his revenge for his murdered love.
"This was blessed work," he murmured. "Hell is blacker by eight hundred negroes."
"Captain," said Scudamore, rousing him from his reverie, "our bitterest enemies have escaped under our eyes. There is but one way to reach and destroy them in the place where they have sought refuge."
"It would be idle for me to show you, you would not use it, but give me authority to do as I please for half an hour and I promise to bring you the heads of all these traitors without sacrificing one of our men."
"I should like to see that."
"You will hear it. You need not witness it; it is a stratagem of war which you could not learn from me. Go back to the ship and wait for my return."
This bold language surprised Barthelemy. A sort of intoxication arising from the bloodshed still held him in thrall, and he allowed himself to be persuaded to return to the Royal Fortune and let the doctor work his will. As soon as the captain was out of sight, Scudamore ordered the pirates to go to the deserted cabins and murder the families of the fugitives.
Shouting exultingly, the fierce crew, thirsting for revenge, obeyed; from the lofty cliff the blacks saw their wives killed, their children slaughtered, and when all were slain, their homes set on fire and destroyed amid clouds of smoke that rose to their eyrie.
Then Scudamore stepped forward and shouted: