The crew soon set to work under Fothergill's orders. The sails were cut
off the masts and thrown down into the hold; bamboos, of which there
were an abundance down there, were heaped over them, a barrel of oil was
poured over the mass, and the fire then applied.
"That will do, lads. Now take to your boats and let's make a bonfire of
the other junk."
In ten minutes both vessels were a sheet of flame, and the boat was
lying a short distance from them waiting for further operations. The
inhabitants of the village, furious at the failure of the plan which had
been laid for the destruction of the English, kept up a constant
fusillade. This, however, did no harm, for the gig was completely
sheltered by the burning junks close to her from their missiles.
"There go the others!" Percy exclaimed after a minute or two, as three
columns of smoke arose simultaneously from the other junks, and the
sailors were seen dropping into their boats alongside.
The killed and wounded were placed in the other gig with four sailors in
charge. They were directed to keep under shelter of the junks until
rejoined by the pinnace and Fothergill's gig, after these had done their
work on shore.
When all was ready the first lieutenant raised his hand as a signal, and
the two boats dashed between the burning junks and rowed for the shore.
Such of the natives as had their weapons charged fired a hasty volley,
and then, as the sailors leapt from their boats, took to their heels.
"Mr. Fothergill, take your party into the village and set fire to the
houses; shoot down every man you see. This place is a nest of pirates.
I will capture that battery and then join you."
Fothergill and his sailors at once entered the village. The men had
already fled; the women were turned out of the houses, and these were
immediately set on fire. The tars regarded the whole affair as a
glorious joke, and raced from house to house, making a hasty search in
each for concealed valuables before setting it on fire. In a short time
the whole village was in a blaze.
"There is a house there, standing in that little grove a hundred yards
away," Percy said.
"It looks like a temple," Fothergill replied. "However, we will have a
look at it." And calling two sailors to accompany him, he started at a
run towards it, Percy keeping by his side.
"It is a temple," Fothergill said when they approached it. "Still, we
will have a look at it, but we won't burn it; it is as well to respect
the religion, even of a set of piratical scoundrels like these."
At the head of his men he rushed in at the entrance. There was a blaze
of fire as half a dozen muskets were discharged in their faces. One of
the sailors dropped dead, and before the others had time to realize what
had happened they were beaten to the ground by a storm of blows from
swords and other weapons.
A heavy blow crashed down on Percy's head, and he fell insensible even
before he realized what had occurred.
When he recovered, his first sensation was that of a vague wonder as to
what had happened to him. He seemed to be in darkness and unable to
move hand or foot. He was compressed in some way that he could not at
first understand, and was being bumped and jolted in an extraordinary
manner.