His Majesty was ready for the field. He bore a short spear with rows of pearls set in the shaft, and over his shoulder was slung a bow and sheaf of arrows. In his belt was the native two-edged tomahawk, and the young fellow looked fit to render a good account of himself, had he been going to fight savages like himself.
Beside the king stood the Crooked One, who bore no arms at all. We afterward learned that this famous chieftain, contrary to the custom of these islanders, never fought in person but contented himself planning the battle and directing his men. In this he was unconsciously imitating the great generals of the civilized world.
“Come,” said Attero. “We are ready for the journey.”
“Oh! are we to go along?” I asked in surprise.
“Yes,” said he, and marched out into the square. We followed. It was pitch dark, but a group of men outside bore torches. Several litters had been provided, similar to the “stretchers” we carry wounded men on. The king took possession of one of these, the Crooked One of another. A third and fourth were for the use of Joe and myself. As soon as I had reclined upon the litter four men started away with it, going on a jog trot, and I found it by no means uncomfortable.
It was a queer procession. Half a dozen runners carried torches ahead of us to light the way. The king’s litter came first; then the chieftain’s, followed by mine and Joe’s. More torchbearers closed the line. And so we proceeded at a rapid pace over hill and dale through the black night to the opposite end of the island.
As we came to the further edge of the forest, dawn broke. It was a gray, dismal day and I thought the sky threatened rain.
A great assemblage of warriors met us and welcomed the king and the Crooked One with evident satisfaction. I stood by and listened while several leaders made their reports. It seemed the fighting had been constant the day before, and time and again the natives had been repulsed with heavy loss. The “stinging things” went straight through the bark shields, which the wise Kuru had recommended, and they had therefore been abandoned. Between the forest and the ship the plain was strewn with dead and wounded Faytans, and their friends could only go under cover of darkness to reclaim their bodies, as whenever they showed themselves a hail of bullets greeted them.
I was very proud to learn that my friends were doing such excellent work. Against their rapid-fire guns the poor natives with their primitive weapons had no show whatever. Yet the simple creatures had persisted in sacrificing themselves uselessly.
The Crooked One listened calmly to the reports. Then he asked: