"Take her in," he said, as he carried her to the entrance of the
hut, "and stay there until I come again."
Then he ran after his party. A wild hubbub had burst forth. Muskets
and pistols were cracking. Carthew, as he ran out of the hut,
discharged his pistol at the sailors, but in his surprise and
excitement missed them; and before he had time to level another,
George Lechmere bounded upon him, and with a shout of "This is for
Martha Bennett," brought his cutlass down upon his head.
He fell like a log, and at the same moment one of the sailors shot
his companion. Then they dashed against the Belgian sailors, who
had been joined by the blacks.
"Give them a volley, lads!" George shouted.
The four sailors fired, as a moment later did the boatmen, and then
cutlass in hand rushed upon them.
Just as they reached them Frank arrived. There was but a moment's
resistance. Two of the sailors had fallen under the volley, a third
was cut down, and the fourth, as well as the blacks, fled towards
the village. Here the Obi drum was beating fiercely.
"Load again, lads," Frank shouted. "Two of you come back with me."
He ran with them back to the end hut, but Bertha had now recovered
from her first shock.
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