The Log of the Flying Fish: A Story of Aerial and Submarine Peril and AdventureCollingwood, Harry
Science
The Log of the Flying Fish: A Story of Aerial and Submarine Peril and Adventure
Collingwood, Harry
Adventure stories; Sea stories
The situation was decidedly comical, and the travellers indulged in a
hearty laugh at the expense of the discomfited savages. But it was
obvious that matters could not be allowed to remain in that condition;
the natives must be impressed with the conviction that hostilities were
neither necessary nor desirable, and that it would be to their advantage
to be on terms of amity with the newcomers. How could this be achieved?
A parley offered the most ready solution of the difficulty; and the
professor--who was a perfect polyglot dictionary in human form--offered
to essay the task of conducting it. This was by no means his first
introduction to savages; he had encountered them in various parts of the
world before, and had never experienced any very serious difficulty in
communicating with them, so that he felt tolerably sanguine of success
on the present occasion.
"The matter is very simple, I think," remarked the German, as he led the
way to the larboard gangway. "We want these people to understand that
we are friendly disposed toward them; that they have nothing whatever to
fear from us; that we have not come here to rob them of one tittle of
their possessions; that we merely wish to explore and examine these
ancient ruins; and that, if they will receive us among them as friends,
they will be distinct and decided gainers by the transaction. Is not
that so?"
"Certainly," remarked the baronet. "Tell them--if you can--that all we
ask is permission to investigate and explore unmolested; and that if
they will accord us this privilege they shall be substantially
rewarded."
"Very good; I will do my best. And that reminds me that you had better
order George to bring on deck and open a small case of those beads and
nick-nacks that we provided for such occasions as the present," remarked
the professor.
The baronet returned to the pilot-house to give the order; and von
Schalckenberg drew out his white pocket-handkerchief, waved it two or
three times in the air, and then demanded, in the language he thought
most likely to be intelligible:
"What chief commands the warriors who have assembled to pay homage to
the four Spirits of the Winds?"
Most luckily for the professor's prestige and reputation as an all-wise
Spirit, the dialect he had adopted, though not the language actually
spoken by the tribe he addressed, was so far similar that his question
was understood; and whilst the astounded blacks started to their feet in
dismay at finding themselves at last actually face to face with and
addressed by an avowed Spirit, one of them hesitatingly and timorously
advanced a few paces, threw himself prostrate on the ground, and,
maintaining his posture of humility, stammered out:
"I, Lualamba, am the leader of these warriors, O most potent Spirit."
"Approach, brave Lualamba, and ascend to us by the ladder which we will
let down to you. We have that to say which must be heard by your ear
alone," commanded the professor, waving his hand majestically.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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