That same afternoon, about two o’clock, the same savages who had fought with rifles from the bush against the invaders came hurriedly and somewhat excitedly into camp. The spokesman, a tall and splendid-looking native, gesticulated wildly, as he almost shouted in the officers’ ears:
“To-mollow molning dey come! All dis island rise! Dey come to kill and eat!”
The officers were astonished. What had they done to deserve so terrible a fate?
“Dey blame you for all. Oh, be plepared to fight. Gib us guns, and we too will fight plenty much. Foh true!”
A very uneasy night was passed, but the yard and guns had been cleared of cinders and scoria, the bulwarks strengthened, and before the sun once more shone red over the sea Dickson was prepared for either battle or siege. Everyone had been assigned his quarters.
The day was still, hot, and somewhat sultry. Luckily the little garrison was well provisioned, and the water would last a week or even longer. Low muttering thunders were still heard in the direction of the volcano, and sometimes the earth shook and trembled somewhat, but it was evident that the subterranean fires had burnt themselves out, and it might be a score of years before another eruption occurred.
It was evident that the savages did not think so. For as long as the cloud hung over the peak they did not consider themselves safe. About twelve o’clock that day distant shouts and cries were heard in the nearest glen, and presently an undisciplined mob of nearly a thousand howling savages, armed with bows and spears and broad black knives, appeared on the sands, in their war-paint. It was evidently their intention to storm the position, and determinedly too. They halted, however, and seemed to have a hasty consultation. Then a chief boldly advanced to the ramparts to hold a parley. His speech was a curious one, and he himself, dressed partly in skins and leaning on a spear like a weaver’s beam, was a strangely wild and romantic figure.
The officers appeared above the ramparts to look and to listen.
“Hear, O white men!” cried the savage chief, in fairly good English; “’tis you who brought dis evil on us. We now do starve. De rice and de fruit and de rats and most all wild beasts dey kill or hide demselves. In de sea all round de fish he die. We soon starve. But we not wish to fight. You and your men saved us from the foe that came in der big black war canoe. Den you try to teach us God and good. But we all same as before now. We must fight, eat and live, if you do not leave the island. Plenty big canoe take you off. Den de grass and trees and fruit will grow again, and we shall be happy and flee onct mo’.”
“An end to this!” cried Dickson angrily. “Fight as you please, and as soon as you please. But mind, you will have a devilish hot reception, and few of you will return to your glens to tell the tale. Away!”