The kindly Namoans made the strangers welcome. They feasted them in their clubhouse till the rain was over and the stars shone on the white chief and the dark natives, who gazed with awe on the man who had brought rain in spite of Kone.
After this Mr. Chalmers often met the rainmaker, who loved to sit and listen while the white chief told of the fierce men who lived towards the sun-setting, and of the way in which he had brought peace amongst many of them. Kone offered to visit him at Port Moresby. Tamate was amused. He thought it was only in order to get tobacco and tomahawks and beads that Kone meant to come. Kone did wish to get these things, but the thought of peace had got into his mind, and he had begun to love his new friend greatly too.
Mr. Chalmers wished to place a teacher in the village of Delena, where Kone’s home was. So he stayed there for some time to take charge of the building of a house and to prepare for a school.
One night he saw that all his friends in the village were excited. They feared an attack from the Lolo tribe, who lived near. Natives moved quickly hither and thither. Women glided past and were lost in the bush. They carried bundles. Soon they returned with empty hands. They had hid their treasures. Natives came to him. They whispered to him and pointed to his guns.
“Shoot, Tamate. Shoot for us, and frighten the Loloans and send them away.”
In the simplest words he tried to tell them that he had not come to scatter people, but to gather all together. To bring peace; to change foes into friends.
The troubled natives did not know what he meant. To-night they spoke to this great white chief. To-morrow he and they might be lying dead, and yet he would not shoot!
They could not understand him, but sometimes a glimmer of what he wished flashed on them, and they turned away with a half hope that he would save them some other way if he would not save them by his gun.
On the night of the attack Tamate fell asleep. He was content to trust to the quick ears of his little terrier or the ready alarm of his boy. Beyond the tents great lights were burning, so that no one could steal up unseen.
At two in the morning the alarm came. On every side there was noise and clamour. Tamate’s tent was high above the village. Women and children flocked to it. They tumbled over each other in their eagerness to get into safety and to save their pots and ornaments. In spite of all that Tamate had said, they still hoped that he would use his guns!