“Ebo, good boy,” cried the black. “No, no, no. Kill, kill.”
“They sha’n’t kill us, Ebo,” said my uncle, taking up his gun and pointing it at the shore; while, to make his meaning clearer, I did the same. “Shoot—kill man.”
“Shoot! kill!” cried Ebo, who evidently understood, for he picked up his spear, and thrust with it fiercely towards the shore. “Yes, shoot; kill man,” he continued, nodding his head; but he seemed very much dissatisfied and gazed intently towards the distant land.
“He seems to know the character of the New Guinea savages, Nat,” said Uncle Dick. “I have always heard that they are a fierce and cruel set, but we shall soon see whether it is safe to land.”
We sailed gently on, for it turned out a glorious moonlight night, and altering our course a little we were at sunrise within a couple of miles of what seemed to be a very beautiful country, wooded to the shore, and rising up inland to towering mountains. Great trees seemed to prevail everywhere, but we saw no sign of human being.
“The place looks very tempting, Nat,” said uncle, “and if we can hit upon an uninhabited part I expect that we should find some capital specimens for our cases. Let us see what the place is like.”
Ebo tried in his fashion to dissuade us from going farther, and it was evident that the poor fellow was terrible uneasy as the boat was run in close to the shore, when all at once about a dozen nude black savages came running down to the water’s edge, making signs to us to land, and holding up bunches of bright feathers and rough skins of birds.
“They look friendly, Nat,” said my uncle.
“Look here; I will land and take them a few presents in beads and brass wire; we shall soon see if they mean mischief.”
“I’ll come with you, uncle,” I said.