Had it not been for his efforts, the sheds and the slaves in them must have been burnt, for the sparks fell thick upon the dry thatch, which caught again and again.
Now the sights and sounds grew more and more fearful.

Maddened with fear, the remainder of the slave-drivers and their servants rushed from the flaming buildings, striving to escape from the fire.

Some flung themselves desperately into the aloes and prickly-pears on the inner rampart, and, climbing the palisade beyond, escaped into the marsh, while some collected on the open space, and at these the gun was fired from time to time when the smoke lifted.

Others again ran to the dike of the slave camp begging for mercy, there to be shot by Otter, who never wearied in his task of revenge.

From behind them also rose the hideous cries of the slaves, who believed that they were about to be burned alive, and screamed as they dragged at their manacles.
"Oh, it is like hell!" said Juanna to Leonard, as she buried her face in the grass that she might see no more, and to escape the suffocating smoke.