es to bursts of mirth. Philosophy may
fail to account for it, and propriety may shudder at it, but the fact is
undeniable. With death hovering, they knew not how near, over them, and
the memory of the fearful things they had just witnessed strong upon
them, they were compelled, now and then, to smile and even to laugh
aloud, as the process of painting went on. There was some variety in
the adornment of each, but let that of Larry O'Hale serve as an example.
First of all his legs were rubbed all over with white earth, and his
body with yellow. Then, down each lower limb, behind, a palm-tree was
drawn in red--the roots beginning at his heels, and the branches above
spreading out on his calves. Various fanciful devices were drawn on his
breast and arms, and some striking circles on his back. Last of all,
one-half of his face was painted red, and the other half black, with a
stripe of white extending from the root of his hair down to the point of
his nose. It is needless to say that during the process the
enthusiastic Irishman commented freely on the work, and offered many
pieces of advice to the operator. Indeed, his tendency to improve upon
existing customs had well-nigh put an end to the friendly relations
which now subsisted between the white men and the natives, for he took a
fancy to have a red stripe down each of his legs. Either the native did
not understand him, or would not agree to the proposal, whereupon Larry
took the brush and continued the work himself. At this the savage
indignantly seized him by the arm and pinched him so violently that he
lost temper, and, thrusting the red brush into the native's face, hurled
him to the ground. There was a yell and a rush at once, and it is
probable that blood would have been shed had not Bukawanga interposed.

When the painting was completed, their protector led the white men (now
no longer white!) to the hut of the chief. Bukawanga was received
somewhat coldly at first. The chief, a large, fine-looking old man,
named Thackombau, with an enormous head of frizzled hair, looked askance
at the newcomers, and was evidently disposed to be unfriendly.
Observing this, and that the warriors around him scowled on them in a
peculiarly savage manner, most of the prisoners felt that their lives
hung, as it were, upon a thread. The aspect of things changed, however,
when their friend stood up and addressed the assembly.

Bukawanga had not yet said a word about the cause