Already the pinnace was filled with cursing pirates who saw that the game was lost. Some of them had left their weapons in camp, others fired a few wild shots, but those who had any wit left were tugging at the oars to make for the open sea.
"After 'em," roared Bill Saxby. "Follow down the creek to make sure they do not molest our sloop."
A score of men, Indians included, jumped into the boat and pulled in chase, no longer on slaughter bent. The only thought in their heads was to despatch the errand and return to squat around the treasure chest. Jack Cockrell and Joe Hawkridge remained to help scoop up the coin and jewels and stow them in stout kegs and sacks. The stoical chief of the Yemassees was grinning from ear to ear as he grunted:
"Plenty gold. Good! Hurrah, boys!"
Arm-in-arm Jack Cockrell and Joe Hawkridge danced a sailor's hornpipe upon the splintered lid of Blackbeard's sea-chest while they sang with all their might:
"For his work he's never loth,
An' a-pleasurin' he'll go,
Tho' certain sure to be popt off,
Yo, ho, with the rum below."
THE END
