dead silence, broken only by three strokes of a gong, which called the
pirates to a council of war. A few minutes afterwards a fearful yell
gave notice of their advance, and the fleet approached in two divisions.
In the dead of the night there ensued a terrible scene. The pirates
fought bravely, but they could not withstand the superior forces of
their enemy. Their boats were upset by the paddles of the steamer. They
were hemmed in on every side, and five hundred men were killed sword in
hand, while twenty-five hundred escaped to the jungles, many of them to
perish. The morning light showed a sad spectacle of ruin and defeat.
Upwards of eighty prahus and bangkongs were captured, and many more
destroyed." The English officers would have gladly saved life; but the
pirates would take no quarter, and the prisoners were few. It was a
striking fact, that one of the war-boats under Mr. Brooke was manned by
some thirty Malays, every one of whom had lost during the year a near
relative, killed by these same pirates. The confederacy has never risen
from this defeat, and for years the tribes composing it have returned to
the labors of peaceful life. Writing twelve months afterwards to a
friend, Rajah Brooke says: "Pray keep the 31st of July apart for a
special bumper, for during the last year not a single innocent life has
been taken by these pirates, nor a single prahu fallen into their
hands." Many a victory, famous in story, has accomplished less.

The next year a fleet of sixty-four prahus, manned by northern pirates,
and carrying 1224 guns, was destroyed by British gunboats in the Gulf of
Tonquin. This was followed by an attack of the Spaniards upon the haunts
of the Soloo pirates. A lull ensued. For three or four years almost
nothing was heard of freebooting; but it was a deceitful calm, not a
final cessation of the storm. The freebooting spirit was not taken out
of the blood of the Malay. Now piracy is said to be on the increase
again. Only three years since six Balanini pirates had the audacity to