Of the twenty white men that had sat down to council the previous evening, only four were left alive after the fight. They were swiftly killed and plundered, and their bodies burned.
"So," said Laoslahta, "we have two dozen good scalps, and now we turn to greater matters. Come close, my children!"
They gathered round him, standing shoulder to shoulder, feathered and painted, with guns, knives and hatchets. They formed the dense half-circle that was the proper way to stand when a great man spoke. There were over a hundred and fifty of them now, the scouts and separated forces having been drawn in, save only a few keeping watch on the red-coats.
Now all stood listening: Cut-Feather and the other sachems in the front rank, and the others behind, in strict order of precedence.
"Listen to my words!" said Laoslahta.
"We listen, O father!" came the rumbling response.
"We are in hard times, my children."
"We listen, O father!"
"Many have died," said Laoslahta, "but worse may come, for it is bad enough for warriors to die — and my cheeks run with tears for those we have lost — but now death falls upon our women and our children!"
It was formal. It was poetic. It was paced by Laoslahta's pauses and the deep-voiced chanting of the listeners. But it was sharp as a razor, telling every man his duty and his task, and as soon as Laoslahta finished speaking, the warriors split into three groups.
The first, some hundred strong and led by Laoslahta himself, set off for the northern inlet to secure the ships. The second, thirty strong and led by Cut-Feather, ran southward to harass and slow the advance of the red-coats, with strict orders to fall back before them and not press home an attack.
The third, a group of just five men, the best trackers in the nation, was tasked with finding Flint. Laoslahta took them aside and greeted each one by name. He gave them their orders: special and solemn orders. Then he embraced them and blessed them and thanked them. Finally he knelt before them, with tears in his eyes, and begged their forgiveness, which they freely gave, being brave men.
He did not expect to see any of them again. Not this side of the grave.
Then all three groups ran off about their duties. They moved with utmost speed, for time was short and the peril was great.
The launch ran smoothly over the slipway: two dozen six- foot logs, greased and laid across the boat's path to keep her clear of the sand that would cling, and drag, and stop her moving. Flint didn't even have to lend a hand. He stood back smiling as his four men heaved with a will, and got her under way. And once they were on the sloping run to the water's edge, the boat's own weight sent her down with a rumble and a roar, splashing into her natural weightlessness as the salt water took her.
"All stores aboard!" said Flint. "Leave nothing behind." There was no such a thing as a small boat over-provisioned for a voyage. Every cask of water, every tub of biscuit, might be needed.
"Aye-aye, sir!" they said, and three leapt to it, while one stayed with the boat, even without orders, so she shouldn't float off on her own.
Such good lads, thought Flint, and he tried to laugh at them and be merry… but couldn't quite manage it. Something was troubling him now that they were leaving. He wondered what.
So he stood back and let the four of them get aboard with what they'd recovered, and he let them take up their oars, and sit up like good boys, and face astern while he clambered aboard and sat in the sternsheets and took the tiller.
"Give way!" said Flint, and the boat pulled out of the small cove, and was soon in the fresh air and heaving rollers of the open sea. "Rig for sail!" said Flint, and he looked back at the island — and felt a surge of pain. He frowned. He worried… which wasn't like Joe Flint at all. He'd made his decision. He knew what had to be done. He was confident that — as before — he would leave the treasure safe and cosy, and come back in strength another day. He'd got his copy of the map, and his notebook, and enough coin aboard to pay for a new expedition, and — once he'd dealt with all those persons who were surplus to requirements — he'd have at least one good ship, and a crew to man her, to take him wherever he needed to go. So what was it that he was missing?
Flint had a most wonderful mind. It was inventive and organised. It was full of tight compartments with strong doors, guarding the places where thoughts were stored, letting them out on command. It was what made him so single-minded and formidable a man. But one door had burst open all on its own. He couldn't keep it shut, because he knew what was inside it. He'd known all the time what it was that he was missing. And it wasn't it. It was her… of course.
"AAAAAAAAAAAH!" he roared in anger and pain. The hands gaped in fright at their captain beating his fists against the thwart, like a child in a tantrum, crying, "No! No! No!" to the four winds and the open sea and the calling gulls.
"Cap'n?" said the man nearest to Flint. "What is it?"
He should've kept quiet. He got a kick that smashed front teeth and bloodied his nose, and a torrent of filthy abuse such as no man had ever heard before from Joe Flint, who never used a cuss-word nor an oath, and despised those who did.
But Flint recovered. He wiped his face. He tidied himself. He leered at the hands and went round pulling their noses — except him with the blood on his face; Flint patted his cheeks instead — and laughed.
"Well, my boys!" he said. "We're situated as we are, and that's a fact. As we are and not as we'd wish to be!"
"Aye-aye, Cap'n," they said warily.
"So here's to some other day."
"Aye-aye, Cap'n."
"And meanwhile there's work to do."
"Aye-aye, Cap'n."
Flint looked at the tarpaulin and what it covered. Then he got out his map and looked at the boat's compass, and made sure they were on course for Flint's Passage through the archipelago. Hmm. The wind was fair, the boat was charging along merrily. Flint smiled. It should be interesting. It would certainly be something new.
Silver threw himself upright in the speeding boat. Selena looked back. The Indians were racing along the beach with sand flying from their heels. But they were a good two hundred yards off, while there was less than thirty yards between herself and Silver's boat. She looked at Silver. He looked at her.
It is a fact of human nature that, on sudden meetings, first reactions are true reactions, for truth comes quick and instinctive. And it comes all the faster with a tribe of savages bearing down with knives, hatchets and muskets.
"John!" she said, and ran towards the boat.
"Selena!" he said, and leapt clumsily out, and hopped forward and — wonder of joyful wonders — Silver was staggering back as the small, dark figure threw herself at him and clung to him, and him to her, and with only three legs between them, they wobbled and swayed… while certain death came on, a hundred and fifty strong, and a nasty death besides. But all doubts were blown away and all fears made nothing, and eyes clenched in absolute happiness, and each only aware that in all the world there was none other, and never would be, never could be, never should be, not for ever and ever amen.