I hastily explained the situation to my friend, and told him what we
must do. A word or two assured me of all I wished to know. We reached
the scene of the disorder. The fishermen were bunched together,
the river on the one side, the houses and hills on the other. The
river-drivers had halted not many yards away, cool, determined and
quiet, save for a little muttering. In their red shirts, top boots,
many of them with long black hair and brass earrings, they looked a most
formidable crowd. They had evidently taken the matter seriously, and
were come with the intention of carrying their point, whatever it might
be. Just as we reached the space between the two parties, the massive
leader of the river-drivers stepped forward, and in a rough but
collected voice said that they had come determined to fight, if fighting
were necessary, but that they knew what the end of the conflict would
be, and they did not wish to obliterate Sunburst entirely if Sunburst
accepted the conditions of peace.
There seemed no leader to the fishermen.
My friend said to me quickly: “You speak first.” Instantly I stepped
forward and demanded to know what the terms of peace were. As soon as I
did so, there were harsh mutterings among the river-drivers. I explained
at once, waving back some of the fisher-men who were clamouring about
me, that I had nothing whatever to do with the quarrel; that I happened
to be where I was by accident, as I had happened by accident to see the
difficulty of the morning. But I said that it was the duty of every man
who was a good citizen and respected the laws of his country, to see, in
so far as it was possible, that there should be no breach of those laws.
I spoke in a clear strong voice, and I think I produced some effect
upon both parties to the quarrel. The reply of the leader was almost
immediate. He said that all they demanded was the Indian who had so
treacherously injured the foreman of their gangs. I saw the position at
once, and was dumfounded. For a moment I did not speak.
I was not prepared for the scene that immediately followed. Some one
broke through the crowd at my back, rushed past me, and stood between
the two forces. It was the Indian who had injured the foreman. He was
naked to the waist, and painted and feathered after the manner of his
tribe going to battle. There was a wild light in his eye, but he had no
weapon. He folded his arms across his breast, and said:
“Well, you want me. Here I am. I will fight with any man all alone,
without a gun or arrow or anything. I will fight with my arms--to kill.”
I saw revolvers raised at him instantly, but at that the man, my friend,
who stood beside me, sprang in front of the Indian.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account