'No more do I, 'cos I never shot a gun in my life. But this 'ere truncheon of old ugly mug's is as good as a gun, if it gets a chance; which I mean to say firing off guns ain't fighting at all, to my way of thinking. Darbies or sticks--that 's all right; the best man wins; but with guns--why, any little mean feller as would give you best if you looked at him may do you in from a distance, hiding behind a haystack, p'r'aps, or up a tree. No, Ephraim, that ain't fighting, not by a long chalk.'

'And have you made your own will, Mr. Grinson?'

'No, I ain't, and I 'm sorry for you, me lad, for I meant to leave you my old parrot as sits on his perch in Mother Perkins's parlour. You remember Mother Perkins, what said she 'd be glad to mind the bird, 'cos his language was so beautiful and reminded her of me?'

'Ah! I wish I could speak like you, Mr. Grinson, but there--I never could do it, not if I tried ever so. But you don't think you 're going to be killed?'

'Well, you see, I 'm twice as broad as you, and so the chances is against me, with guns. It's only fair, after all, 'cos in a real fight I could take on two, p'r'aps more; I should say more, with this 'ere truncheon. I ain't got no presentiments, Ephraim; but what is to be is, and in case they knock a hole in me I do hereby declare and pronounce as my old parrot is to belong to you and no one else, and so you 'll tell Mother Perkins.'

'I don't like to think of it, Mr. Grinson, but if so be as you 're killed and I ain't, I 'll look after that bird as if 'twas you, and think of you whenever it speaks.'

'Only if it speaks decent, Ephraim. I won't deny it picked up a few unholy words afore I bought it, and they come out sometimes; you can't help it.'

The seamen, though they had recently returned from sentry-go, were wakeful, and talked on till morning, exchanging reminiscences of their years of comradeship. At sunrise they joined Trentham and Hoole, and were allotted posts within the walls, if the Germans should attack. Scouts had already been sent out into the forest, to keep watch in the direction from which the enemy was likely to come.

During the night the position had been thoroughly discussed between Trentham and Hoole. The latter, though reluctant to leave his friend to bear the brunt of any fighting that might take place, at last agreed that probably the best service that he could render was to hasten the arrival of the steamer. About nine o'clock he set off with two natives for the lake where he had left the seaplane. Little more than two hours later Trentham heard the hum of the engine. The seaplane passed over the village, going eastward and skimming the tree-tops. From the signs made by Hoole, Trentham understood that the Germans were on their way, and this preliminary intimation was confirmed soon after noon, when the scouts came running in. Their report that a great host of the bad men was approaching aroused great excitement among the natives, who, proud of their easy victory on the previous day, showed little sign of understanding the nature of the ordeal they were to pass through. Some of them were for sallying out and meeting the Germans in the forest; but Flanso had intelligence enough to perceive the danger of breaking up his force, and at Trentham's suggestion he concentrated the greater number of his men near the gate, where the enemy's main attack was likely to be made. A few were stationed at other points along the circuit of the wall, to give notice if surprise attacks were attempted elsewhere than in front.

Trentham had persuaded the chief to place under Grinson's command about a score of the men whom he had led on the day before. His leadership then, and his subsequent display of muscular strength in dealing with the medicine-man, had won their admiration; and the fact that he bore their totem mark on his shoulder was a great factor in inspiring them with confidence. Even without Lafoa's assistance Grinson seemed to be able to make them understand his wishes.