ak themselves. The
five other Tahitians were to follow Joan and Sheldon on foot.

"I'm glad we unearthed that arsenal the other day," Sheldon remarked as
they rode out of the compound gate.

A hundred yards away they encountered one of the clearing gangs coming
in. It was Kwaque's gang, but Sheldon looked in vain for him.

"What name that fella Kwaque he no stop along you?" he demanded.

A babel of excited voices attempted an answer.

"Shut 'm mouth belong you altogether," Sheldon commanded.

He spoke roughly, living up to the role of the white man who must always
be strong and dominant.

"Here, you fella Babatani, you talk 'm mouth belong you."

Babatani stepped forward in all the pride of one singled out from among
his fellows.

"Gogoomy he finish along Kwaque altogether," was Babatani's explanation.
"He take 'm head b'long him run like hell."

In brief words, and with paucity of imagination, he described the murder,
and Sheldon and Joan rode on. In the grass, where Joan had been
attacked, they found the little shrivelled man, still chattering and
grimacing, whom Joan had ridden down. The mare had plunged on his ankle,
completely crushing it, and a hundred yards' crawl had convinced him of
the futility of escape. To the last clearing-gang, from the farthest
edge of the plantation, was given the task of carrying him in to the
house.

A mile farther on, where the runaways' trail led straight toward the
bush, they encountered the body of Kwaque. The head had been hacked off
and was missing, and Sheldon took it on faith that the body was Kwaque's.
He had evidently put up a fight, for a bloody trail led away from the
body.

Once they were well into the thick bush the horses had to be abandoned.
Papehara was left in charge of them, while Joan and Sheldon and the
remaining Tahitians pushed ahead on foot. The way led down through a
swampy hollow, which was overflowed by the Berande River on occasion, and
where the red trail of the murderers was crossed by a crocodile's trail.
They had apparently caught the creature asleep in the sun and desisted
long enough from their flight to hack him to pieces. Here the wounded
man had sat down and waited until they were ready to go on.

An hour later, following along a wild-pig trail, Sheldon suddenly halted.
The bloody tracks had ceased. The Tahitians cast out in the bush on
either side, and a cry from Utami apprised them of a find. Joan waited
till Sheldon came