Even as we were speaking, the drums were beaten with less fury, and the shouts of the natives were less noisy and frequent; and after about another half-hour they ceased altogether.
“Now,” said Tom, “you two fellows go to sleep. I’ll look after the sick man to see if he wants anything. He seems pretty quiet now, so I’ll unlash his hands and feet.”
CHAPTER XII.
A SAD EVENT.
I was so thoroughly tired that I fell asleep at once, and slept soundly; and when I woke it was already broad daylight, and as I opened my eyes I saw a tall form bending over me with a face painted red and white in broad, horizontal stripes, and thought that cannibals were coming to kill and eat me.
I sprang up with a yell, and called to Tom and Bill that our hour was come, and that I was being killed. However, I was relieved by the painted face which had so frightened me relaxing into a broad grin, and hearing Calla say, for it was he,—
“What for you make big bobbery all same man die? Me Calla.”
I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and looked round. Tom was sitting by Bristol Bob’s side, who was tossing restlessly on his bed and groaning, and Bill was at the door of the hut washing himself.
Calla had come over from the mainland of Aneitou to inquire after us, and to say that his father, Wanga, wished us to come over to his village in the course of the day.
I got up and went over to where Bristol Bob was lying, followed by Calla, who, looking at him, said,—
“What make him sick? Plenty time him drink no be like this.”