'If they arrive in time. We may have to face the music before they get here, and I don't much like the prospect. Thanks to Grinson, we did very well against Hahn's handful this morning, but it will be quite another thing to deal with fifty or sixty, perhaps more, a good proportion armed with rifles. Your revolver ammunition is all spent; we 've got the revolvers of the two prisoners, that's all.'
'I brought three revolvers along and a few rounds of cartridges; very little good they 'll be against two or three score rifles. We 'll be back of the wall, of course, which is something to the good.'
'By the way, we heard your seaplane. Where is it?'
'Away yonder. I came down on that pond the Germans failed to strike. I guess they heard her too, and may waste time trying to find her, which will give us a chance to set our defences in order. Say, shall we get along?'
They hurried on. The natives of their party had preceded them, and were surrounded by groups of excited villagers to whom they were expounding the method by which the white men had destroyed the enemy's vessel. A noisy throng followed Trentham and his friends to the gate of the inner enclosure, and when they had disappeared, started a victory dance up and down the broad path.
Lafoa's aid was once more enlisted by Trentham in explaining the situation to the chief. More intelligent than his subjects outside, Flanso was under no illusion about the danger that threatened his village. His own experiences while in the hands of the Germans left him in no doubt as to the fate in store for his people if the enemy got the better of them, and he was ready to accept Trentham's suggestion that all but the fighting men should be at once sent away southward into the forest, where they would be at least out of harm's way until the issue was determined. But when he consulted some of his counsellors he at once encountered the strenuous opposition of the medicine-man, who had not forgiven Hoole for having made him cut so sorry a figure at the duk-duk dance. He protested that the new danger threatening the village was due to the stupidity of the white men. Why had they destroyed the blue vessel, and prevented the enemy from going away? They were already responsible for the destruction of the wreck that had been preserved and cherished by the chief's forefathers from the beginning of the world. They had prevented the human sacrifice customary at the inauguration of a new chief. They were meddlers, and all the misfortunes that had befallen the village were due to them.
Such was the gist of the medicine-man's harangue, though these few sentences by no means represent the torrent of words which poured from his lips. Nor could any one but a cinematograph operator properly depict the extraordinary grimaces of his features and the violent gestures with which he emphasised his denunciations. His right hand wielded a heavy nail-studded mace, and as his excitement grew he stepped, or rather danced, nearer to the group of white men, twirling the mace, tossing it in the air, striking the ground with it. Ignorant though they were of his language, the white men could not mistake the purport of his speech, and two of them noticed with some anxiety that he was making an impression on some members of his native audience. Grinson, however, felt nothing but amusement. A broad grin spread over his face as he listened and watched, and the more excited the medicine-man became the more pleasure the seaman took in the performance, giving utterance now and then to his sentiments with sundry ejaculations and cat-calls.
At last a sudden change came over his expression. The medicine-man in his frenzy had drawn very near to Hoole, and to give point to one of his statements he thrust his mace forward at the full length of his arm, so that Hoole only escaped a blow by stepping quickly back. It was uncertain whether the man had intended to attack him, but the suspicion was too much for Grinson. His lips snapped together; with a great roar he hurled himself at the orator, struck the mace from his hand, and caught him round the waist and hoisted him above his head. The sinews of the seaman's arms cracked; for some seconds he held the native aloft, as if hesitating whether to cast him to the ground. Terrified into silence, the man wriggled; the spectators looked on open-mouthed. Grinson grew purple with exertion; then he laughed. Gradually he lowered his arms, stretched to full length, and gently laid the man at Hoole's feet.
'Windbag!' he muttered, passing his hand across his sweating brow, then setting his arms akimbo and looking down at the still figure.
Gasps of amazement broke from the natives. The medicine-man lay for half a minute; when Grinson stooped and picked up the fallen mace he closed his eyes as if expecting a blow.