Out of the huts crept stealthy figures of women and children. When Eustace opened his eyes he found himself lying flat on his back with these people crowding inquisitively around. He looked up into their repulsively heavy faces with a horror of realization. For some moments he was too paralyzed to stir. No more awful fate could have befallen him than this—it was the sort of thing that might come to one in a nightmare. But he knew it was no dream. There stood Bolter a few paces away, grazing thankfully, and in no way perturbed.
The harsh guttural language these people spoke was unintelligible to the boy, but he could guess they were intensely curious about him from the way they pointed and stared. It seemed to him that some of them could never have seen a white child before, they were so excited, especially the children, who looked half terrified. Were they cannibals these people? he wondered, with a sinking heart.
He forced himself to his feet, and stood shaking a second, then dropped on his knees. The performance seemed to amuse the gaping group—the younger men and women laughed, the children clapped their hands.
Eustace was wondering drearily how long they would stand staring at him, when the chief strode up to him and said something with many gesticulations; but not a thing could the boy understand.
The chief was much more decorated than any one else—covered from head to heels with stripes and devices in white, blue, and red paint. There were feathers in his crisp dark hair, and slung over his shoulder a strange shaped club.
Eustace proceeded, by means of much waving, pointing, and the patter talked on the plantation by the coolies, to try and explain how he had come there, and how very much he only wanted to get away and find the way home. But it was useless—the men shook their heads and looked perplexed.
Seeing that no one seemed inclined to molest him, but that every one merely watched him as if he were a monkey in a cage at the Zoo, he resolved on a desperate step. With a supreme effort he stood again, staggered over to Bolter, and attempted to mount.
But this was not allowed. With two strides the chief was upon him, flinging him back on the ground as a big boy might fling a kitten from him. Then the great man plainly intimated that this creature he considered his; no one should touch it. Eustace was not to dare to approach it. The chief's attitude was menacing; it was well to be seen he felt he had acquired a prize.
"But what is going to happen to me?" thought Eustace, quaking with fear. "What will they do with me?"
No one seemed to have any intention of doing anything with him at the moment; he was only stared at. The men, for the most part, were now more interested in Bolter, particularly his saddle and bridle. Little by little the women dropped off, as if they had work to attend to, and a smell of cooking arose that made the boy sick with longing as he sat huddled up and half silly with starvation and fatigue. The apathy that had been upon him before he was cheered by the gleam of light crept over him again; fear faded from his mind; nothing seemed to matter any more.