"Lord! Save us!..."
Burning flames rose from the deck of the Portuguese flagship, like the scorching of a fiery hell, bringing a breath of death that struck them full in the face! And the Gunpowder barrels that suddenly exploded were like thunder never heard before, throwing up an astonishing blast wave that even flattened the flames into mere tongues of fire!
Boom!!!...
The stern's side planking was blown clean apart. The heavy 8-pounder Cannon tumbled into the sea, and countless splinters of wood swept across the entire stern like slicing blades!
Four musket Sailors did not even manage a groan before the splintered wood struck the vital points of their throats. As for Quartermaster Martim, he screamed, clutching his bleeding right eye as he rolled desperately across the deck.
"Ah! My eye! My eye!!..."
"Ah!... My head! My head!... My... scalp?..."
The blast wave thundered past, and Boatswain Haroldo gave a muffled grunt as pain stabbed through his head. Terrified, he groped at his head, feeling again and again, and finally discovered that his head was still there—only a chunk of scalp had been shaved off by splintered wood. Then, his soul still not settled, he looked around the ship and saw only a scene like Purgatory.
Four sailors lay dead across the deck, while the quartermaster and another sailor wailed and rolled. Old Ivo was pressed tight against the deck, gripping the native guide who had been following him and holding him in front as a shield. And that native did not move at all, his head smashed against the mast; there was no telling whether he was dead or had been knocked senseless...
"Chief! Chief!..."
"Great Lord! Mighty devil! Whoever can save me, I will worship Him devoutly, with the finest lambs and human blood, just like the