"I asked you how many were hurt." "And I told you, stupid," he replied, "a round dozen." "What! a man wounded for every prisoner ?" "That's it; and we shouldn't have taken any, the beggars were game for fighting to the last, if Mr Brooke hadn't given the word for them to be knocked on the head first with the thick end of the oars." "To stun them ?" "Yes; and our lads got so savage after seeing their mates stabbed when trying to save the brutes' lives, that they hit as hard as they could.
They killed two of 'em, or we should have had fourteen." "How horrid!" "Horrid?
Why, I enjoyed it," said my messmate.

"When I saw poor old Blacksmith--" "What!" I cried excitedly, "he isn't hurt ?" "Not hurt?
why, one yellow-faced savage, when poor old Smithy held out his hand to pull him aboard, took hold of his wrist, and then reached up and stuck his knife right through the poor old chap's arm, and left it there." "Poor old Smithy!" I cried huskily, and a choking sensation rose in my throat.

"I must go and see him." "No, you mustn't.

I've just been, and they sent me away." "But where is he ?" "Doctor's got him, and been mending him up.

He has gone to sleep now." "Was he very bad ?" "Stick a stocking-needle through your arm, and then square it, cube it, add decimal nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, and then see how you feel." "Poor old boy!" I said; "I am sorry." "Well, so am I," said Barkins sourly; "but I don't keep on howling." "Did they take the blackguard prisoner ?" "Well, they did, and hauled him aboard, but he was no good, and they pitched him overboard again." "Why ?" I said wonderingly.
"Why! because he was dead.