Fearlessly the four defenders descended the path to the lower terrace.
"We'll begin with those fellows first!" exclaimed Mr. McKay, pointing to a group of natives cowering, with their hands over their eyes, against a spur of the cliff. "Stand by with your revolvers in case they resist."
There was no resistance. Passively the savages allowed Mr. McKay to remove their weapons, which had fallen from their nerveless grasp.
Seizing one man firmly but gently, Mr. McKay dragged him from his companions. The native's face bore a strong resemblance to that of a sheep led to the slaughtering-block; no doubt he thought he was to be slain.
Escorted by the three lads the prisoner was taken to the fringe of the cocoa-nut grove, where Mr. McKay presented him with a branch of a palm—the almost universal emblem of peace.
At this the native began to see a chance of having his life spared, and Mr. McKay, pointing to the canoes and then to the wounded savages, made signs to the man that they desired their crippled enemies to be placed in the native craft.
This experiment was tried upon some of the other unharmed savages, with equally good results, and quickly recovering their senses the natives set to work with a will.
One powerful-looking savage, however, refused to deliver up his club, but instead made a sudden rush at Mr. McKay with the evident intention of knocking him over the head.
Mr. McKay had discarded his rifle, and his revolver was in the side pocket of his pyjama coat. Coolly his hand sought his pocket, and without attempting to withdraw the weapon he discharged it at his assailant, who was barely five yards off.
The heavy bullet, striking the man full in the chest, laid him dead on the ground, while the other savages, awestruck at the sight of one of their number being killed by no visible agency, were again thrown into a state of panic.