They found themselves surrounded by nearly a score of natives--short,
squat fellows with wild, black hair, most of them in half-civilized
garments. They bore all sorts of weapons, some of them having rifles,
others short harpoons, and bows and arrows. A large, dark-faced native
seemed to be their leader, and seeing the boys now ready to defend
themselves, he shifted his gun to his left hand and held out his right
with a smile, continuing his broken English.
[Illustration: HE SHIFTED HIS GUN TO HIS LEFT HAND AND HELD OUT HIS
RIGHT WITH A SMILE]
"Good mans me," he said. "You good mans. Plenty fliend, all light, all
light, all light!"
He continued to repeat these last words as though they would serve for
the rest of the conversation. Rob, willing enough to accept his
assurance of friendship, shook him by the hand, all the time, however,
keeping his eyes open for the wild-looking group around him.
"Come dat ways, bidarka!" said the chief, pointing to the beach beyond
the sea-wall. "Hunt bad mans. You see-um bad mans? Him steal."
John touched Rob quietly on the arm and whispered to him: "He means
Jimmy," he said. "They are after him, and he knows it. That's why he
wouldn't come out."
"You see-um bad mans?" asked the chief, eagerly. "Him there?" He pointed
at the door of the barabbara, and would have stepped over to look in.
Rob moved in front of him.
"No!" he said. "All good mans here. What you want?"
"No want-um white mans," answered the chief. "Village over dar." He
pointed across the mountains.
Rob guessed that these natives had therefore followed around the
coast-line from their town, although he was not yet clear as to their
purpose in coming hither.
"You got-um bad mans here," said the chief, sternly, at last. "See-um
boat dar." He pointed to the bidarka at the edge of the lagoon.
"What you do with bad mans?" asked Rob.
"Plenty shoot-um!" answered the chief, sternly, slapping the stock of
his gun. "Him steal! Him steal dis! Steal-um _nogock_! All time my
peoples no get-um whale. Him steal-um _nogock_!"
Rob was puzzled.
"Now what in the world do you suppose he means?" asked he of John. "And
what is that thing he's got?"
The chief was holding up a strange-looking object in his hand--a short,
dark-colored, tapering stick, with hand-holes and finger-grips cut into
the lower end, and with a long groove running toward the small end,
which was finished with an ivory tip.
"I saw that thing in the boat," said John. "That must be what he means
by _nogock_. I don't see how they would kill a whale with it, though, or
anything else."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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