It was a strange collection of weapons stacked on the deck--guns, cutlasses, knives and pistols of every description, relics of many a foray, some apparently very old.

Probably all had not been delivered, yet there was such a pile, I felt no further fear of the few pieces remaining hidden.

It was not my intention that the villains should have the slightest chance to use the weapons, so when the stream finally ceased, I asked no questions, although I gave no orders to the guard to withdraw.

I had the fellows cowed, and meant to keep them so.
"That's all, is it?
Very well--now you men at the foot of the ladder take care of this big nigger we're sending down; no, he is not dead, only stunned.

Let him have a bucket of water, and he'll be all right.
Now stand aside while a few of your friends join you; they'll tell you what's up.