Harry and Ralph laughed in glee at the commotion, and John and the Professor joined in the sport, when they learned the object of the boys’ enterprise.
“We’re simply trying to entertain our visitors,” shouted Ralph, and the besiegers were simply at their wits’ ends to know what all the hilarity was about.
Harry crawled up on the pile of lumber, and beckoned to the Kurabus, and invited them to come up; but this did not seem to appeal to them. In the effort to get down, the pile fell, and his hand was caught beneath the corners of the rough boards and an ugly flesh wound resulted.
The weather was very warm, and the two bodies, which were lying exposed since the early morning two days before, began decomposition, and the Professor suggested that from a sanitary point of view to say nothing of common humanity, the bodies should be buried as quickly as possible.
The boys secured the picks and shovels, and as they were about to start, the Professor cried out: “Harry, you must not go under any circumstances.”
His manner of saying it and the peremptory tone in which it was uttered was a great surprise to the boys. The savages noticed them as they dug the graves, and reverently interred the two warriors. They watched in silence during the entire proceedings.
During the course of the evening George said: “Why did you refuse to let Harry go with us to-day when we buried the two bodies?”
“It was merely a matter of precaution.”
The boys looked at each other, wondering what he meant. The Professor noticed their looks of astonishment, and he continued:
“Harry injured his hand this morning, and the interment of decaying human bodies is dangerous to anyone likely to come into contact in such a manner that the raw tissues or the blood get a taint of the putrefaction.”