“I would not land armed party at all,” answered Waroonga. “But Cappin Fitzgald know his own business most. What he thinks?”
“My business and yours are so mingled,” returned the captain, “that I look to you for advice. My chief duty is to obtain information as to the whereabouts of the pirate vessel, and I expect that such information will be got more readily through you, Waroonga, than any one else, for, besides being able to speak the native language, you can probably approach the savages more easily than I can.”
“They are not savages,” returned Waroonga quietly, “they are God’s ignorant children. I have seen worse men than South sea islanders with white faces an’ soft clothin’ who had not the excuse of ignorance.”
“Nay, my good sir,” said the captain, “we will not quarrel about terms. Whatever else these ‘ignorant children’ may be, I know that they are brave and warlike, and I shall gladly listen to your advice as to landing.”
“If you wish to go to them in peace, do not go to them with arms,” said Waroonga.
“Surely you would not advise me to send an unarmed party among armed sav—children?” returned the captain, with a look of surprise, while Orlando regarded his friend with mingled amusement and curiosity.
“No. You best send no party at all. Jis’ go round the island, put down angker, an’ leave the rest to me.”
“But what do you propose to do?” asked the captain.
“Swum to shore with Bibil.”
Orlando laughed, for he now understood the missionary’s plan, and in a few words described the method by which Waroonga had subdued the natives of Ratinga.