Make 'em keep their weapons in the
canoes with 'em, and at the first sign of trouble shoot 'em down
like dogs. It may be that these precautions ain't necessary, but
when I was here twenty years ago it was all the rage to kill a
white man and eat him. Maybe times has changed, but the harbour
and the coast looks just as wild and lonely as they ever did, and
I didn't see no sign of missionary when we dropped hook last
night. So don't take no chances."
All hands promised that they would take extreme care, to the end
that their precious persons might remain intact, so Mr. Gibney
finished his cup of coffee at a gulp and went on deck.
The Kandavu aborigines were not long in putting in an appearance.
Even as Mr. Gibney came on deck half a dozen canoes shot out from
the beach. Mr. Gibney immediately piped all hands on deck, armed
them, and nonchalantly awaited the approach of what might or
might not turn out to be an enemy.
When the flotilla was within pistol shot of the schooner Mr.
Gibney stepped to the rail and motioned them back. Immediately
the natives ceased paddling, and a wild-looking fellow stood up
in the forward canoe. After the manner of his kind he had all his
life soused his head in lime-water when making his savage
toilette, and as a result his shock of black hair stood on end
and bulged out like a crowded hayrick.
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