“Before the pirate could raise his weapon again one of Maynard’s men had leaped forward, his cutlass fell upon the back of Blackbeard’s neck, almost severing the head from the body, and with a crimson fountain spouting from the awful gash the pirate turned and cut his assailant to the chin with a single blow. But despite his ghastly wound the pirate chieftain was still standing, still defiant, still fighting. All about, the decks were a shambles, his men were lying dead and wounded, half a dozen of Maynard’s men were attacking him. Kicking off his shoes to get a better foot-hold on the bloody deck, bellowing like a maddened bull, blood streaming from over twenty-five wounds, with his half-severed head lolling hideously upon his chest, but still defiant, Blackbeard backed against the bulwarks and slashed and lunged, keeping his enemies at bay until, as his life blood poured over his chest and beard and trickled to the decks, his muscles weakened and his blows grew less. Then, suddenly whipping a pistol from his belt, he made one last desperate effort to shoot down the lieutenant. But before he could press the trigger, before a man could strike the weapon up, his knees sagged, his eyelids closed, and with a gurgling, awful moan he sank lifeless to the deck. “Few of the pirates remained alive, none were unwounded. Those who had the strength leaped overboard, attempting to escape, but all were captured; Blackbeard and his men were wiped out and the only member of the pirates who had escaped was the sailing master, Israel Hands. Nursing the bullet wound in his knee, which had been so playfully inflicted by Blackbeard, he was safe ashore. Doubtless he most heartily gave thanks for his dead captain’s form of humor and blessed the wound that gave him a stiff leg for life. “Maynard’s losses, too, were tremendous; many of his men had been killed, scarcely one had escaped without serious wounds, but they forgot their hurts, for they were triumphant. Thirteen pirate prisoners were safe in irons in the sloop’s hold, the grewsome, awful head of the redoubtable Blackbeard was lashed to the tip of the bowsprit, and, hoisting sail, Maynard set forth for Bath Town, North Carolina, to claim his well-earned reward and exhibit his bloody trophy. There the thirteen prisoners were promptly hanged, Teach’s black-whiskered, blood-clotted head, with the burnt-out fuses still in the tangled hair, was placed in the market square, and the promised rewards were duly paid to the courageous lieutenant and his daring men.” “Jiminy!” exclaimed Fred. “That must have been some fight! Was that the end of the pirates?”