Zalee took the little one up in his arms. He was also decked with ribbons and flowers, the latter not fresh, which was proof that he had been there for some time.
The Bo's'n had fallen on his face upon the palm board flooring at the first sight of the child, and he muttered as before, "The goat without horns!"
"That young one's trussed just like the baby we found," said the Captain.
Trussed! The word brought before my mind's eye the times immemorial that I had watched the young ducks and turkeys bound in this way and ready for the spit, and I turned away sick and faint.
Zalee quickly cut the ribbons which bound the child and took him up in his arms. The boy clung to him with every sign of affection, which proved to the onlookers that the two were not strangers to each other. Probably, I thought, he is some child who lives in the neighbourhood of Zalee and whose family he knows well. Zalee picked up all the ribbons and flowers that he had stripped from the child, and, going to the altar, he laid them upon it. Then Zalee lifted the boy in his arms. At that moment there was a pounding at the great doors which gave upon the forest glade.
"Le Papaloi!" whispered the Haïtien in a terrified voice, and rushed to the opening at the back of the building. Through this he began to squeeze, holding the child in his arms. The sounds outside grew louder, there were shouts and howls and continued knockings. The child clung to Zalee in terror, and Zalee, no less terrified, hurriedly got himself through the opening.
"We can't all get through," said the Skipper. "Look to your priming."
I had heard queer tales of these people, and I feared what would befall us; but, knowing the weakness of the Bo's'n, I pushed him through the open space. At that moment the door was burst asunder, and the Skipper and I turned to confront an angry mob of about twenty men.