On the deck they laid about, my men and Alderly's, as they had fallen, and I did perceive that our broadside had finished up one or two at least of the latter, who were still breathing when I got aboard, though not long after. Of my six men who had fallen there, I made instantly a burial, tying shots to them and heaving them over the side--for I would not have the birds of prey--many of whom were hovering about the banks of the river--tear and devour them. This I did do when I felt sure they were indeed dead, but of the pirates I took no heed--the birds might have their bodies (as I doubted not the Devil had got their souls by now), for all I cared. One thing--or rather two--I did not find which I would very willingly have done. There was no sign anywhere of either Alderly or the casket he had flourished in our faces. Now, if Alderly had died before his men, or some of them, this would not be strange, since I knew--having hunted pirates before to-day--that the captains had ever the desire to be flung overboard the moment they were dead, and always in their finery and adornments. And this doubtless had happened to him; that is, if he had not escaped, which was, of course, possible for him to have done if he had not his death wound when I encountered him. And the casket might have gone too--though this I doubted; at least, it would not go while one man remained alive, and he would not sink it until his last gasp, at which time he might be then too feeble so to do. Yet I resolved to search the Snow, to see if any were lurking about, or if the casket was hid anywhere. 'Twould not take long to do, and even though it did, what matter? There was no call on my time. Down below, to which I went after carefully scrutinizing the deck, all was in great disorder; weapons were lying on the cabin table alongside of food and victuals, and there was a broached barrel of rumbullion--or kill-devil--a-standing in the middle of the cabin, with a scooper, or long-handled ladle, hard by, which doubtless they had drunk from by turns; and since they were drunk when we met 'em in the night, I supposed they had been drinking ever since they had deserted us. Leastways, the barrel was half empty, yet none was spilled. Here was the body of a man shot into the head, and very ghastly--I doubted not he had fallen down the hatch when struck, or, may be, run down for drink to ease him. And now, seeing this corpse set me off a-calculating how many there had been in the _Etoyle_, and how many there were now--whereby I should get the difference of those in the ship, and those who had been flung, or fallen over, or--if it might be so--escaped. And, at last, I did arrive at the solution that but two were missing; namely, the villain Alderly and his diver. Therefore, even allowing them to be alive, all but three of both crafts had been killed in the fight.