“Kill them,” suggested McCoy.
“Yes,” said Quintal; “I vote that we get up a grand hunt, run them to earth, and shoot them like dogs, as they are.”
“Not so easy as you think to hunt down such men among these wild and wooded hills,” said Young. “Besides, it is only Talaloo who has threatened us; Timoa is guiltless, I think.”
“I’ll tell you what we’ll do, lads; we’ll poison ’em,” said Williams. “I’ve heard of such a thing bein’ done at Otaheite by one of the women. She knows how to get the poison from some sort of plant, I believe, and I’m pretty sure that Menalee will help us.”
The plan thus suggested was finally adopted. One of the women made three puddings, two of which were good, the third was poisoned. Menalee at once agreed to go to the fugitives, say he had stolen the puddings, and would be willing to share them. The two good puddings were to be given to Talaloo’s wife and Timoa, the poisoned one to Talaloo himself. For further security Menalee was to carry a pistol with him, and use it if necessary.
The assassin was not long in tracking out his countrymen.
“You bring us food?” said Talaloo.
“Yes, I have stolen it. Will you have some?”
They all accepted the puddings, and Timoa and the woman began to eat; but Talaloo was quick witted. He observed something unusual in Menalee’s manner, suspected poison, and would not eat his pudding. Laying it aside, he ate that of his wife along with her.
Menalee pretended not to notice this. After the others had done eating, he proposed that they should all go a little farther up into the bushes, where, he said, he had left his own wife among some breadfruit trees.