The boat was sailing near Kulinuu Point. Phil glanced across the intervening water.
“Let’s land and walk home,” he said to Alice. All agreed readily.
A passing canoe was called alongside the deep draft launch and the passengers quickly transferred.
“All right, O’Neil,” Phil said. “You may return to the ship. We’ll go back to town on foot.”
They landed on the pebbly beach and walked across to the main street leading between the double row of royal palm trees. It was a deserted village. Every one had departed.
Avao found an old woman crooning in the corner of a house and asked her a question.
The old hag recognized her and turned upon her fiercely.
At the Kapuan firm’s store, on their way home, the party again stopped. Avao’s quick eye caught the gleam of metal from the porch. She deliberately walked forward until a challenge brought her to a stop. Phil saw a Herzovinian sailor, gun leveled, walk toward the girl, who was standing stock-still several paces from the steps.
The challenge had brought several more sailors to the door. Many natives, living in houses in the surrounding bush, quickly gathered, and their childish curiosity pressed them forward. Before five minutes had elapsed a crowd of nearly fifty warriors and maidens were surrounding the front of the store; and as their number swelled, the crowd grew more bold and advanced toward the house. The sailors stood their ground with guns held ready.
“This is awkward,” Phil exclaimed excitedly to Sydney. “Something’s got to be done at once or we’ll have the ‘tonga-fiti’ after all. Follow me.” He advanced, pushing his way through the crowd. The midshipmen were in uniform, and the natives gave way readily before them. Phil had almost reached Avao’s side, when a loud report of a rifle discharged brought him to a stand. Several more shots were then fired in rapid succession. The natives instantly backed away; but when they found no one had been hurt they stopped and began talking and gesticulating wildly.