When the doleful news reached the American admiral, he was beside himself with anger at the white men whom he firmly believed had instigated and made possible the ambush. Far from yielding, all effort was now ordered to be concentrated upon swift punishment to the rebels.
Lieutenant Gant came ashore from the British ship to command all the loyal native troops. Several hundred loyal warriors were now added, having been brought from Kulila. One thousand strong they were mustered, and all were armed with the latest patterns of the Lee Metford rifle from the British and American war-ships. The white troops, unused to bush fighting, by the admiral’s order were hereafter only to garrison the town, while offensive work was to be done exclusively by the loyal native troops. A plentiful supply of white sailors was sprinkled among the native companies, to teach them how to use their weapons and how to take cover.
Through the women the fate of the fallen officers and sailors was learned. All had been beheaded; but Kataafa when he learned of this savage act had ordered the bodies and heads to be buried and their graves marked.
Phil and Sydney were given commands in the native regiment, and O’Neil went with them.
All day and every day they drilled their men. Meanwhile the rebels were drawing their lines closer about Ukula.
The Herzovinian consul had, immediately after the unfortunate fight with the rebels, gone in person to offer his sympathy to the admiral for the sad loss of life. Admiral Spotts received him in stony silence. He listened to his words but vouchsafed no answer, nor even thanked him for his sympathy.
“Against his countrymen, whom he should control,” the admiral exclaimed to Commanders Tazewell and Sturdy, after the discomfited consul had departed, “the blood of every man killed in these islands should righteously cry out vengeance.”
Phil, who had been present, repeated the admiral’s words to O’Neil. The sailorman nodded his head in silence for several minutes.
“What were you going to say?” Phil asked quickly. He had seen a look in O’Neil’s eyes, and knew that the sailor was looking at the sad episode from a different standpoint.
“Well, sir,” O’Neil replied apologetically, “I am not saying the admiral isn’t dead right. That count and Klinger have sure brought on this war and are responsible for the men killed. But, sir,” he added, “I was here when twenty Herzovinian sailors were killed and their heads taken by this same Kataafa. They were killed by bullets furnished by Americans and Englishmen. They blamed us then—we blame them now.