Tom was not satisfied with this victory. He sat on his rose-bug and, in his rage, wished to exterminate the Redheads altogether. All his friends begged him not to leave the town, but he was burning for revenge. Leaving the older men on guard, he chose a group of young, enthusiastic workers and hurried with them after the retreating enemy.
Moss, red and blue berries, sped by them as they hastened on and, whenever they came to one of their foes lagging behind, they immediately cut him to pieces. The rose-bug, who also became enthusiastic over the fight, was soon running at the head of the scattered crowd and wherever he saw a Redhead easily overtook him, when Little Tom would cut him down with his sword. So they ran blindly ahead, paying little heed to anything, intoxicated with their victory.
Now brave Little Tom did not know the sly cunning of his foes. The fleeing ones scattered broadly as they made for their home. The strongest among them, however, stopped a moment and, hiding themselves, noticed that Tom was riding almost alone, having outridden his own troop. Then they ran as fast as they could to their home, where they found a swarm of slaves awaiting the results of the main battle. With them were many of their masters in great excitement. They had received many discouraging reports. Many fighters had been lost and the army was being pressed back, step by step.
Tom was really dreaming how he would attack the deserted Red Town, start a revolt of the black slaves and fall upon their army in the rear, thus completing the victory. He did not even wait for his scattered party to catch up with him and, as soon as he saw the black slaves, immediately urged his steed after them. The slaves became frightened at the sight of this victorious giant on a golden horse and turned around, running in desperate fright with Tom galloping after them.
At this moment, some of those who were retreating came up and reported that just behind them was a great giant at the head of a band of Black fighters, heading straight for their town. Immediately, they gathered themselves together and, hiding all along the path, sent some black slaves toward Tom. They knew these slaves could not fight, but would start to run away from Tom and thus draw him on.
Already, before him, appeared the town and he was almost on the square in front of it, when the Red fighters came out of their ambush and threw themselves on the rose-bug. He stopped. Tom struck around him into the red bodies which squirmed under his blows; but the clever fighters, protected by the bodies of their fallen comrades, attacked him by biting his feet with their powerful jaws, until he slipped and fell to the ground.
Before he could get up, they rendered him unconscious and ordered the slaves to drag him victoriously into the town. There they took away everything that he had, bit his clothes to pieces and left him unconscious in a dark dungeon.
