'Monsieur parle français?' he said, using the first phrase that occurred to him, and anxiously watching the chief.
Both the old man and the young looked at him with astonishment.
'Monsieur parle français?' he repeated.
'Oui, flançais,' said the chief, and went on speaking in a gibberish which, though it had a French intonation, was utterly incomprehensible to Trentham.
'Nous sommes amis des Français,' he said.
'Oui, amis,' echoed the chief, and talked on. Then, apparently seeing that Trentham was bewildered, he called up the interpreter, and spoke to him in the Papuan dialect he had formerly used.
'Chief he say you savvy him talk, say you come this place belongina ship. What for come this place?'
Trentham almost despaired of finding his resources of pidgin English suffice to explain the situation of himself and his companions. But conscious how much depended on him, he did his best.
'Me belongina English ship; bad fella belongina another ship, he fighting me, no more ship. He no like white fella man; come fight this time black fella belongina all place. English fella man like Flansai fella, no like Toitsche fella--you savvy all same?'
He clenched his fist, and shook it in the direction where he supposed the Raider to lie. The explanation, translated, seemed to excite the chief, who turned to his young compatriot and entered into an animated discussion with him.