uns, and the presents
in a basket.

"Are these Hillmen used to guns?" asked Gordon. Stedman said no, they
were not.

"This shot-gun of mine is the only one on the island," he explained,
"and we never came near enough them before to do anything with it. It
only carries a hundred yards. The Opekians never make any show of
resistance. They are quite content if the Hillmen satisfy themselves
with the outlying huts, as long as they leave them and the town alone;
so they seldom come to close quarters."

The four men walked on for half an hour or so in silence, peering
eagerly on every side; but it was not until they had left the woods and
marched out into the level stretch of grassy country that they came
upon the enemy. The Hillmen were about forty in number, and were as
savage and ugly-looking giants as any in a picture-book. They had
captured a dozen cows and goats, and were driving them on before them,
as they advanced farther upon the village. When they saw the four men,
they gave a mixed chorus of cries and yells, and some of them stopped,
and others ran forward, shaking their spears, and shooting their broad
arrows into the ground before them. A tall, gray-bearded, muscular old
man, with a skirt of feathers about him, and necklaces of bones and
animals' claws around his bare chest, ran in front of them, and seemed
to be trying to make them approach more slowly.

"Is that Messenwah?" asked Gordon.

"Yes," said Stedman; "he is trying to keep them back. I don't believe
he ever saw a white man before."

"Stedman," said Albert, speaking quickly, "give your gun to Bradley,
and go forward with your arms in the air, and waving your handkerchief,
and tell them in their language that the King is coming. If they go at
you, Bradley and I will kill a goat or two, to show them what we can do
with the rifles; and if that don't stop them, we will shoot at their
legs; and if that don't stop them--I guess you'd better come back, and
we'll all run."

Stedman looked at Albert, and Albert looked at Stedman, and neither of
them winced or flinched.

"Is this another of my secretary's duties?" asked the younger boy.

"Yes," said the consul; "but a resignation is always in order. You
needn't go if you don't like it. You see, you know the language and I
don't, but I know how to shoot, and you don't."

"That's perfectly satisfactory," said Stedman, handing his gun to old
Bradley. "I only wanted to know why I was to be s