“Since that is the case,” said Arthur, “I suppose I must ‘go on,’ in self-defence; and as I believe that twenty minutes will suffice for what remains, I will finish it.”
Chapter Twenty Three.
The Flight.
Te Vea—The Victim for Sacrifice—The Escape and Pursuit—The Priest’s Ambush.
“For life, for life, their flight they ply,
And shriek, and shout, and battle-cry,
And weapons waving to the sky,
Are maddening in their rear.”
“While the party hostile to us, thus stood hesitating, but to all appearance rapidly approaching a point where all hesitation would cease, Olla, with tears streaming down her cheeks, besought us to fly to her husband’s house, where, she seemed to imagine, we should necessarily be safe from violence. But though no one yet laid hands on us, we were surrounded on all sides, and could not with any certainty distinguish friends from foes; and the first movement on our part to escape, would probably be the signal for an instant and general attack by the priest and his followers. We thought, therefore, that our best hope of safety lay in maintaining a firm but quiet attitude, until Mowno, and those disposed to protect us, could make their influence felt in our behalf. They, however, confined their efforts to feeble expostulations and entreaties; and perhaps it was unreasonable to expect them to engage in a deadly conflict with their own neighbours, relatives, and personal friends, in the defence of mere strangers like ourselves. They could not even restrain the younger and more violent portion of the rabble from carrying on the species of desultory warfare from which Barton had already suffered; on the contrary, the stones and other missiles, thrown by persons on the outskirts of the crowd, fell continually thicker and faster. At length Rokóa received a staggering blow on the back of the head, from a clod of earth, thrown by some one who had stolen round behind the rock for that purpose, and who immediately afterwards disappeared in the throng.
“‘How much longer are we to endure this?’ cried Barton. ‘Must we stand here and suffer ourselves to be murdered by these cowardly attacks? Let us shoot a couple of them, and make a rush for the shore.’
“But a moment’s reflection was enough to show the utter hopelessness of such an attempt. However much the natives might be astounded for an instant by the discharge of fire-arms, all fear and hesitation would vanish upon our taking to flight. Our backs once turned would be the mark for a score of ready spears; and except perhaps for Rokóa, whose speed was extraordinary, there would be scarcely the possibility for escape. Still it was evident that the audacity of our enemies was steadily increasing, though their attacks were as yet covert and indirect, and, as I knew that Rokóa would not hesitate to retaliate upon the first open assailant in which case we should be massacred upon the spot, we might soon be compelled to adopt even so desperate a suggestion, as the only alternative of instant death.