“‘Yes, James.’
“‘Well, sir, I know what they’d do now in a case like this.’
“‘Yes, James.’
“‘They’d muster their forces, and prepare for ’ventualities.’
“‘You see, gentlemen,’ he added, ‘we may have a bit o’ good, solid fightin’ to do. Heaven knows that, if it would do any good, I’d gird up my loins and go all unarmed, save with the Word o’ God—my mother’s Bible—among those poor, benighted heathens, and try to bring ’em to their senses. But I fear that would do but little good. When we go among the more humble and simple savages of lonely islands in the sea, or on the mainland of Africa itself, our work o’ conversion is easy, because the creatures have no form o’ religion to place against the gospel. But these head-hunters—and I know them of old—have their own ghastly, blood-stained rites and sacrifices—I cannot call it religion, sir—and these they set up as an awful barrier against the glad tidings we fain would bring to their doors, to their lives.
“‘No, gentlemen, we may have to crack skulls before we get the Word in. But to save those helpless ladies Is a duty, a sacred duty we owe to our own white race, as well as to our own consciences, for we’d ne’er be happy if we didn’t try.’
“‘Heaven grant,’ I said, ‘they may still be alive!’
“‘That we must find out,’ said James. ‘Now, sir, shall we call all hands, and see to rifles and ammunition?’
“James’s suggestion was at once acted upon.
“The Sea Flower was a very large barque, and once had been a full-rigged ship. And our hands were more numerous than are generally carried, for many were working their voyage out, and might have been called passengers.