The pirate ship glided into the sound. It slid next to the sheer cliff and within minutes they were filling barrels from a sparkling waterfall.

Many eyes watched from above. They resented this intrusion.

In single file they padded over the bare rock. Not one foot touched a dry leaf or twig. They moved through the forest like ghosts. They reached their places and waited for orders. Hundreds of lean muscled men stood in silence.

The leader waited until the ship dropped its anchor and stopped for the night. His eyes calculated distances, heights and angles. He raised his bronze arms in the air and looked in all directions. He saw his men, hundreds of them, waiting patiently.

Using both hands he explained. All eyes locked on the rough callused palms and fingers. The leader gestured at the ship and then gave the command.

First the small stones rolled off the cliff. The leader watched intently to see where they landed. The pirates on the ship below didn’t notice the small plops as the pebbles entered the water. Now that he had the range he waved an arm and the larger stones began to hit the ship.

The lookout heard the noise and didn’t think much of it. He thought someone was playing the fool and tossing things about the deck.

The leader stared at the boat hundreds of feet below. He thought about all the men who would be killed. Each one probably had a wife and children. They were the children of others. There were many on the ship below.

The leader gave the order. A boulder the size of a brown bear hit the main deck. The wood splintered and the leader heard the shouts and cries. Rocks rolled off the edge of the cliff striking all parts of the ship with deadly accuracy.

Some dove overboard and tried to swim to safety. The leader’s eyes narrowed as he saw arrows thunk into their writhing backs. “It’s like hunting salmon. They do not belong in our land,” he said.

“Maybe this will be enough. Maybe they will not come back.  I did not want to do this,” the leader said to himself.