And reaching out, she caught the dead man by the hair.
"It is Bill," she said lamentably. "I did not want Bill killed."
And the Baker could hardly speak. If it was possible to feel affection for any man among that awful tribe, he had felt it for the poor wretch who lay in the water killed by his hand. And this was the first time that he had ever fired a shot in anger in his life.
He called to Smith in a low voice, but Smith waved to him angrily to keep quiet. For he was wondering what the rest would do. Presently he slipped down the bank and joined them.
"What will they do, do you think, Kitty?" he asked.
But the girl shook her head.
"If you kill Big Jack they will go," she said.
"Are you sure?"
"The others are not brave unless they see their enemies," she said. "When we fought with the devil men in the caves, they were always frightened at night. For the little men killed many of us with small arrows."
"Give me your pistol, Baker," said Smith, and taking the bigger weapon, he crawled down to the scrub.