"Bimeby we eat white man," said Tabu-Tabu cheerfully.
"If you eat me, you bloody-handed beggar," snapped Captain Scraggs, "I'll pizen you. I've chawed tobacco all my life, and my meat's as bitter as wormwood."
It was too funny to hear Scraggs jesting with death. Mr. Gibney forgot his own mental agony and roared with laughter in Tabu-Tabu's face. The cannibal stood off a few feet and looked searchingly in the commodore's eyes. He was not used to the brand of white man who could laugh under such circumstances, and he suspected treachery of some kind. He hurried over to join the king and the two held a hurried conversation. As a result of their conference, a huge savage was called over and given some instructions. Tabu-Tabu handed him a war club and Mr. Gibney, rightly conjecturing that this was the official executioner, bowed his head and waited for the blow.
It came sooner than he expected. The earth seemed to rise up and smite Adelbert P. Gibney across the face. There was a roar, as of an explosion in his ears, and he fell forward on his face. He had a confused notion that when he fell the post came with him.
For nearly a minute he lay there, semi-conscious, and then something warm, dripping across his face, roused him. He moved, and found that his feet were free, though his hands were still bound to the post, which lay extended along his back. He rolled over and glanced up. Captain Scraggs was shrieking. By degrees the bells quit ringing in the commodore's ears, and this is what he heard Captain Scraggs yelling:
"Oh, you McGuffey. Oh, you bully Irish terrier. Soak it to 'em, Mac. Kill the beggars. You've got a dozen of 'em already. Plug away, you good old hunk of Irish bacon."
Mr. Gibney was now himself once more. He struggled to his feet, and as he did, something burst ten feet away and a little fleecy cloud of smoke obscured his vision for a moment. Then he understood. McGuffey had a rapid-fire gun trained on the wari, and the savages, with frightful yells, were fleeing madly from the little shells. Half a dozen of them lay dead and wounded close by.
"Hooray," yelled Mr. Gibney, and dashed at the post which held Captain Scraggs prisoner. He struck it a powerful blow with his shoulder and Scraggs and the post crashed to the ground. In an instant Mr. Gibney was on his knees, tearing at Scraggs's rope shackles with his teeth. Five minutes later, Captain Scraggs's hands were free. Then Scraggs did a like service for Gibney.
All the time the shells from the Maggie II were bursting around them every second or two, and it seemed as if they must be killed before they could make their escape.
"Beat it, Scraggsy," yelled Mr. Gibney. He stood and picked up a war club. "Arm yourself, Scraggsy. Take a spear. We may have a little fighting to do on the beach," he yelled. Captain Scraggs helped himself to a loose spear, and side by side they raced through the jungle for the beach.