"But what will they do to Cyprian?" asked Ferlie, desperately incredulous. "He is unarmed and, they can see, unaggressive; if they are not cannibals why should they want to interfere with him?"
"They shoot at sight," explained Jellybrand slowly. "They do not wait to find out if harm is intended. They strike first, even at the neighbouring tribes, w-which go in terror of them. They are called the Shorn Pen."
She turned on him in cold fury.
"And you never warned us!"
"They live so far afield; right out in Great Nicobar. How w-was one to dream——? The Andamanese have a similar tribe to cope w-with, the Jarawas. But they, like the Shorn Pen, are so seldom seen that one forgets. For centuries the Shorn Pen have managed to isolate themselves from the remaining islanders, and they are now practically a different people. Markedly Malayan. Intermarriage and contact with foreigners has altered the ordinary Nicobarese and civilized him."
She became, of a sudden, stoically calm.
"What are we going to do about it first?"
Jellybrand and Mr. Toms, having decided on a search-party, had a little difficulty in organizing their men, and, since this too was necessary, in arming them.
The people, by nature, were no heroes, and it took more than the sight of the foreign lady's stricken insensibility to induce them to collect canoes at this late hour, when the labours of the day should be over.
The padre's influence did more than Mr. Toms' promises of reward, but little Jelly, having finally shouldered his shot-gun, was surprised to find Ferlie prepared to accompany them armed with a small despatch case and Cyprian's revolver.