No one in Somo slept that night.

Even the tiniest of children toddled about the feasting fires or sprawled surfeited on the sands.

At two in the morning, at Bashti's command, the shell of the boat was fired.

And Jerry, thirsting for water, having whimpered and wailed himself to exhaustion, lying helpless, leg-tied, on his side, saw the floating world he had known so short a time go up in flame and smoke.
And by the light of her burning, old Bashti apportioned the loot.

No one of the tribe was too mean to receive nothing.