“Yes, he board.”
Something about the voice of the man who answered made Tamate’s heart sink. He cried, “Is he shot?”
“Yes, he shot dead. Yes, he dead!”
When he got on board he found the captain faint and white. Bocasi had tried to kill the captain, and the captain had shot Bocasi.
The captain might die of his wound. He must be sent to some place where he could be nursed. The body of Bocasi must be taken to Suau. The people there were angry already. When they saw the dead body they would be full of fury. If Tamate went back in the same canoe with it, they would kill him in their first burst of wrath. His wife and the teachers would be left at their mercy, and all his dreams of help for the men of New Guinea would be over. If he let the body go before him, his wife and the teachers would be slain, and he would not be allowed to land again.
One thing must be done first. By hook or by crook he must get ashore before the body. The canoe in which he had crossed lay alongside. The men were just going to place the body in it to row it to the shore.
“Stay,” he cried; “wait for a larger canoe to carry Bocasi’s body.”
While they paused, he seized one native who was still in the canoe, and said, “Take me to shore quick, and give me time to reach the house before you land the body.”
It was never easy to disobey Tamate, so before the other native had time to object, the little canoe was safely on its way to the shore.
Mr. Chalmers was grateful to reach his house and to be amongst the men of Suau again, but he knew that the hardest time was still before him.