Here they all stopped, and our captors, with as many of the clamoring mob
as the place would hold, drove us through the open door into what appeared
to be the judgment-hall of the village. Completely at their mercy, we stood
by the judgment-seat in the centre of a large circle and waited until, at
the end of perhaps half an hour, an even greater uproar arose in the
distance.
There was much stirring and talking and new faces continued to appear. From
where I stood I could see that the growing throng was armed with spears and
knives. More and more natives pressed into the ring that surrounded us and
listened intently to a brisk discussion, of which none of us could
understand a word.
In one corner was a heap of melons; in another were spears and shields. I
was looking at them curiously when something familiar just above them
caught my eye and sent a stab of fear through my heart. In that array of
savage weapons were _three ship's cutlasses_. I was familiar enough with
the rife of those Eastern islands to know what that meant.
Everywhere in the dim hall were bared knives, and muttering voices now and
then rose to loud shrieks. What with faintness and fatigue and fear, I felt
myself growing weak and dizzy.
Pages:
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201