Colin pitched off his heavy coat and started. It
was over a half-mile run, but the boy was in good condition and the path was smooth, so that two minutes saw him at the agent's bedroom door.
"Eh? What's that? Japanese raiders! You've been dreaming, boy. Go back to bed."
"Do I look as if I'd been dreaming?" Colin said indignantly. "How do you suppose I could run myself out of breath in a dream? Hank was with me. He heard them, too, and sent me back to tell you."
But the agent was already up and busy.
"Wake the village!" he said shortly.
Without waiting to find out how this should be done, Colin started off at a run, and picking up a killing club that lay handy, he sped down the village street, hitting a resounding 'whack' on every door as he passed. As he came back, up the other side of the street, the natives were streaming out of their houses and Colin told them all to go to the agent, whereupon those who understood English started immediately, the rest following. The agent was ready and had all his plans made, some of the men were sent to the boats, and arms for others were laid out.
"They were right on Gorbatch rookery?" the agent asked.
"Yes, sir," Colin replied, "at the Reef Point end."