They stood listening to the din, which appeared to be concentrated in the neighbourhood of the gate. It lasted only a few minutes. The sentries had detected the stealthy approach of the Papuans in the nick of time. The stockade was manned before the attack gathered force; its stout timbers resisted all the onslaughts of the undisciplined savages, who drew off, baffled, carrying away those who had been disabled by the weapons of the defenders.
'Now 's the time for us to chip in,' said Trentham. 'It's clear that we are responsible, partly at any rate, for the situation. The Papuans suspect us of complicity with the Germans; they are angry because they can't feast on us; and they believe it's due to us that their friends have been captured. The present chief is no good; he 'll either give way to them in the end, or will ultimately be beaten by sheer weight of numbers. Nothing will restore the position but the return of the rightful chief--that young fellow Flanso.'
'Who 's a prisoner,' remarked Hoole.
'Exactly. Well, we must rescue him and the other prisoners, including Meek. By that means we shall please everybody.'
'You 've got a plan?'
'An idea came into my head suddenly just now when the fight was going on. With care and luck it may work. If you like it, I 'll go and see the chief, and we can start to-morrow.'
During the next twenty minutes the three men were engaged in an earnest discussion. Then Trentham made his way to the chief's house, where most of the important men of the community were assembled. Half an hour later he returned to his friends.
'It's all right,' he said. 'By Jove! talking pidgin is the most tiring job I know. In the morning the chief will make an oration at the gate. He 's not at all keen on his new job, and would like to see Flanso back. He believes the rebels will be willing to give us a chance. Then it's up to us.'
The chief turned out to be better as an orator than as a man of action--Cicero rather than Coriolanus, as Trentham suggested. His speech brought about an instant change of feeling in the Papuans. If the white men restored Kafulu and his comrades to them, they would let bygones be bygones. If Flanso also was restored to his people, they would dutifully accept his authority.
Two hours after sunrise the whole population, a silent throng, gathered at the sides of the track to watch the white men start on their enterprise. Three stalwart natives accompanied them, each of whom carried, wound about his body, a long coil of grass rope. Grinson was himself again.