"Well, Mr Carter, sir, and gen'lemen, Mike here and me follered along the path that the savages had took, for a matter of a couple o' mile, when we hears a tremenjous hullabaloo of niggers shoutin', and tom-toms beatin', and dogs barkin', and what not, so we knowed that we was pretty close aboard a native village, as they calls 'em, so we shortened sail and got in among the bushes, creepin' for'ard until we could see what was happenin'.  And when at last we was able to get a pretty clear view, the sight we saw was enough to freeze a man's blood.  They'd got all our chaps lashed to stakes set up in a clear, open space in front of the village, and one of the pore unfort'nit fellers was stripped stark naked and bein' tormented by a crowd o' niggers what was puttin' burnin' splinters between his fingers, and stickin' 'em into his flesh, and pourin' red-hot cinders into his mouth, what they'd prised open by thrustin' a thick stick in between his jaws; and the shrieks as that unhappy man was lettin' fly was just awful to listen to; but the savages seemed to enjy 'em, for they just yelled with delight at every shriek. Mike and me we turned as sick as dogs at what we seen; and presently Mike grabs me by the hand and says: `Let's get back to the ship, mate, and report.  P'rhaps the skipper'll forgive us for what we've done, and persuade the navy gent to fit out a hexpedition to rescue the others.' So away we came as fast as we could, but when we got to the boat she was aground, and we had to wait a long time until she floated.  But here we are, sir; and oh, gen'lemen, for the love o' God do somethin', if ye can, to save them pore chaps what's bein' tormented to death over there."