After a while he sat up once more, and since everything was quiet, he stole out from among the sleeping Cossacks and went silently down to the boat at the shore. Here the trusted guard was also asleep, and slept so heavily that he knew nothing of Sikku's doings, although Sikku shoved the boat gently out into the water, sat down in the stern and let the wind drive the boat toward the mainland.
Still the Cossack watchman slept as the boat sped quietly on. He had ridden hard, many, many miles. Little wonder that he slept like a log!
When Sikku felt the boat grate against the land, he climbed softly out, took his old knife from his pocket, and cut the ropes that bound the prisoners. The Cossack still slept. The released prisoners could scarcely believe that they were free. They followed Sikku to the boat, and bound their enemy with the same ropes by which a moment ago they themselves had been bound.
Now at last the Cossack was awake, but too late. He had been made his captives' captive.
"Kill him at once! And then let us row to the island and kill the others while they sleep!" shouted one of the newly freed men.
"No," said Sikku, who recognized his master's voice. "Let us rather take their booty and hurry it and ourselves to safety."
"They have burnt my house and barns, and stolen everything I had," said the farmer savagely.
"They freed me and gave me food," said Sikku, who seemed suddenly like a grown man.
Most of the men agreed with Sikku. The Cossacks were not killed, some of the land's folk rode away on the enemy's horses, others drove herds of cattle off to safe hiding-places in the forest, and each person carried away as much as he could of the enemy's plunder. Sikku had chosen his share and was well pleased with it.
Several days after, the warrior bands returned from their raids and took to their ships again.