"Then tell them to continue the advance."
By this means the gap between the three divisions being maintained, the main body arrived at the spot where their comrades had halted; then exclamations of rage burst from the lips of the infuriated seamen, for lying, half covered by a mantle of snow, were the bodies of the victims of the savages' treachery. "Isn't that enough to knock the sickly sentimentality out of the most case-hardened humanitarian?" asked Captain Brookes. "I may be wrong in my opinion, but with the experience of not only today, but of years past, I feel convinced that fear is the only means of keeping these savages in order, and, by Jove, I'll teach them a lesson!"
Having made this unpleasant discovery, Captain Brookes led his men back to the shore, whence they were transferred to the opposite bank of the inlet.
Here they again formed up and marched towards the village, which was cunningly concealed save from one particular direction—namely, from where Gerald had noticed it from the eastern shore of the creek.
[Illustration: A terrific detonation shook the ground, and a thick cloud of smoke obscured the view of the pinnacle. In an agony of fear the natives threw themselves face downwards in the dust.]
Detaching a party of twenty men under Lieutenant Sinclair, with instructions to make a detour to the opposite side of the village, so that the savages' retreat would be cut off, Captain Brookes halted the main body till a prearranged signal was given to show that arrangements for surprise were complete.
"Now, forward, my lads!" exclaimed the captain, as the report of a rifle was heard in the distance.
At the double the seamen rushed towards the collection of hovels that formed the Patagonian village. A few of the natives showed fight, but the majority fled, yelling with terror, in the direction of the narrow defile held by Sinclair and his men.