Alila fired: his bullet passed over the heads of the savages, who were so astonished at the detonation that they suddenly halted, and examined us attentively. I prudently took advantage of their surprise, and an immense forest presenting itself on our right, we entered it, leaving the village on our left, but the savages did not follow us into it.
During the whole of this scene my lieutenant did not utter a word. I had already remarked that when in presence of danger he became dumb, but when he had lost sight of the Igorrots his speech and loquacity returned to him.
“Master,” said he to me, in a very dissatisfied tone, “how I do regret not having fired directly into the middle of those miscreants!”
“And why so?” asked I.
“Because I am certain I should have killed one of them at least.”
“Well?”
“Well, master, our journey would not have terminated without our sending at least one soul of a savage to the devil.”
“Ah! Alila,” said I; “so you have become wicked and naughty, have you?”
“No, no, no, master,” replied he; “but I cannot conceive why you are so kind and compassionate to that infernal race. You, who pursue and persecute the Tulisans,[2] who are a hundred times better than these wretches are, and who are Christians besides.”
“What!” cried I; “brigands, robbers, and assassins better than poor primitive beings, who have no one to guide and conduct them to the path of virtue!”