“What! would you not have me defend the Flatland name?” demanded Grabantak, fiercely.
“No, I would have you defend only the Flatland property,” replied the blunt minister.
“And is not Puiröe my property?” growled Grabantak, referring to the barren rock which was the cause of war.
“So is that your property,” said Teyma, picking up a stone, “and yet I treat it thus!” (He tossed it contemptuously into the sea.) “Is that worth Flatlander blood? would you kill me for that? shall Eskimo wives and mothers weep, and children mourn and starve for a useless rock in the sea.”
“You always thwart me, Teyma,” said Grabantak, trying to suppress a burst of wrath, which he was well aware his fearless minister did not mind in the least. “It is true this island is not worth the shake of a puffin’s tail; but if we allow the Poloe men to take it—”
“To keep it,” mildly suggested Teyma, “they have long had it.”
“Well, to keep it, if you will,” continued the chief testily; “will not other tribes say that the old name of the Flatlanders is dead, that the war-spirit is gone, that they may come and attack us when they please; for we cannot defend our property, and they will try to make us slaves? What! shall Flatlanders become slaves? no never, never, never!” cried Grabantak, furiously, though unconsciously quoting the chorus of a well-known song.
“No, never,” re-echoed Teyma with an emphatic nod, “yet there are many steps between fighting for a useless rock, and being made slaves.”
“Well then,” cried Grabantak, replying to the first part of his lieutenant’s remark and ignoring the second, “we must fight to prove our courage. As to losing many of our best men, of course we cannot help that. Then we must kill, burn, and destroy right and left in Poloeland, to prove our power. After that we will show the greatness of our forbearance by letting our enemies alone. Perhaps we may even condescend to ask them to become our friends. What an honour that would be to them, and, doubtless, what a joy!”
“Grabantak,” said Teyma with a look and tone of solemnity which invariably overawed his chief, and made him uncomfortable, “you have lived a good many years now. Did you ever make a friend of an enemy by beating him?”