Arrived at the end of the boom, he cut it away and allowed it to drift toward the mouth of the creek where his Caribs awaited it.
At the camp he found great excitement. The same words were on every lip: “The killer has been taken! Pant is a great hunter. He has killed the man-eater with a machete! Surely there was never such a boy before!”
As for Pant, he divided his time between good-naturedly disclaiming any bravery or skill on his part, and mourning for his burro.
An hour passed. The Caribs settled down for the night. Then Pant and his Carib captain sat beneath their mosquito bar netting, with a candle between them, talking low and earnestly.
“The killer is dead,” said Pant.
“He is.”
“Open warfare has been declared.”
“It has.”
“Will there be a fight?”
“There will.”