“Hey! Let go, will you!” roared Herc. “Help! he’s trying to kiss me.”
The native indeed appeared to be trying to do just that very thing. But somebody explained the situation. It appeared that when sailors came ashore some of the natives liked to act as their guides. Their form of showing homage was to rub noses, and this was what Herc’s native was trying to do.
Suddenly he desisted with a yell, and impelled by some hitherto unseen force went flying through the air, landing with a hard bump some feet away. Blue Lightning had been watching the scene, and lowering his head had charged the Kanaka with all the effect of a battleship’s ram. Not content with this, the goat dashed into the midst of the importunate throng scattering them right and left.
“Whoop! Buck the line! Send ’em flying! Sock it to them!” shouted the sailors in huge glee, as before the furious onslaughts of Blue Lightning the annoying crowd was driven in all directions.
“Good for Red Head’s goat! It’s a four-legged torpedo,” they shouted.
“It’s a destroyer,” came another shout, “a land-going destroyer armed with twin twelve-inch horns.”
Finally Ned and Herc succeeded in rounding up Blue Lightning, and then they set off up the blazing main street of the town, upon which the sun was beating hotly down.
“Well, I reckon we’ve created a sensation,” grinned Herc. “From the noise those fellows made they ought to change the name of this place from Hilo to Hi! Hi!”