One day a young brave, probably to give himself éclat with the pretty, dark-skinned maidens who stood watching on the beach, took his spear and dived alone.
Two minutes slipped away. He came not to the surface, but dark red blood and bubbles soon rose up and revealed his fate—torn in pieces by sharks or alligators.
This episode was soon forgotten.
The girls grinned and laughed.
“Plenty good ’gator,” one said who had learned a little English. “Plenty good ’gator.[9] I lubee he. He one good man—he lub de bukalo feast. Num! num! num!”
And she licked the back of her hand with a species of cannibalistic frenzy that made Barclay Stuart shudder.
Some of these interesting maidens smiled and pointed to the boys, and even nodded to them.
“They’ve fallen in love with you,” said Antonio, smiling.
Antonio was not half so weird-looking now that he had discharged that uncanny eye.
“In love,” cried Barclay; “I would not sweetheart one of those girls for all the gold in Queensland.”