“We got aboard and got the boat in, and then we took our seats on the hatch combing and had Taute along for a council of war.
“Taute had chummed up with Sru’s men and a couple of the Marys whilst the unloading was going on, and he’d found out that Sru wanted the guns for an attack on Mauriri, the big island to the s’uth’ard.
“Tiaki was the chief man on Mauriri, and he and Sru had been at it for years, the two islands hitting each other whenever they could, sinking fishing canoes and so on, but never a big battle. They were too evenly matched and knew it. But those Winchesters would make all the difference, so Taute said and we didn’t doubt him.
“Buck, when he’d sucked this in, sits biting his nails. The sun had set by now and the stars were thick overhead and it came to the question of getting out against the breeze and tide or sticking till the morning when the land wind would give us a lift. Taute gave it as his opinion we’d be safe enough for the night. Sru didn’t want our ship, and the Kanakas had got it into their thick heads that when a ship was raided and the crew murdered in those parts, somehow or another, a British cruiser would turn up maybe months later and make trouble, which was the truth. So we let the anchor lie in the mud and we sat down to supper that night as calm as if we weren’t sitting on a hive of hornets that any minute might let out with their stings.
“Middle of supper, Buck hits the table a welt with his fist.
“‘I’ve got the blighter,’ says he.
“‘Who?’ says I.
“‘Sru,’ says he. ‘I’ve got him by the short hairs and if I don’t make him squeal, my name’s not Buck Slane.’
“I didn’t see his meaning, and said so, telling him straight out that we’d better take our gruel and let Sru alone, that we’d been fools to let him have the stuff without the cash brought on to the beach and that we’d only get broken heads by trying to fight him.
“‘I ain’t going to fight him,’ says Buck.