The gate was thrown open; the two leaders, the prisoners, and their escort passed through, and the scene that met the white men's eyes filled them with astonishment. On either side stood a row of neat wooden houses with gabled roofs and long window openings. The woodwork showed crude attempts at decoration in red and white. In the centre was a larger, loftier building than the rest, also of wood, but constructed like a rough imitation of a castle keep.
Within this inner enclosure there were none but men, all of good stature, well proportioned, and with the arched nose and straight hair which the prisoners had remarked in the two leaders of the procession. In colour they were a bright bronze, contrasting forcibly with the lustreless black of the Papuan escort.
A few yards from the central building the prisoners were halted, and the young leader went forward alone, disappearing within an arched doorway. In a few minutes he returned, accompanied by a tall old man with white hair and wrinkled brow, naked like the others, except for a broader loin-cloth and a heavy gold chain, curiously wrought, about his neck.
'"The noblest Roman of them all!"' quoted Hoole, under his breath. 'Where on earth are we?'
The apprehensions of all the prisoners, were for the moment smothered by surprise and wonderment.
At the appearance of the old man in the doorway, the ten Papuans fell on one knee, like courtiers before a king. The chief gazed fixedly at the white men, appraising them one after another. A cruel smile dawned upon his face--a smile that in an instant revived in the prisoners the worst of their fears. During the march Trentham had buoyed himself with the hope that these natives of a higher type might turn out to be friendly; the hope died within him now. The chief had evidently heard all about the prisoners from the young man who had visited him during the night. He had now come to pronounce their doom.
'Rhadamanthus,' murmured Hoole. 'Try him with pidgin, Trentham. He hasn't heard our defence.'
'Chief, we English fella,' cried Trentham. 'Come this side look out black fella man; no fighting this time.'
The old man beckoned to one of the men who had come from the houses right and left, and now stood spectators of the scene. The man came forward, and after the chief had addressed a few words to him in his own tongue, he said to Trentham:
'White fella man no belongina this place. White fella man come this place, make fire houses belongina black fella man, fight black fella man all same too much; white man he belongina die.'