med with a pair of pistols and a cutlass.
Striding over the sand he held out his hand to the American.

"Good day. My name's Ross, barque _Lucy May_, of Sydney, from the New
Hebrides to Hong Kong with sandalwood."

"Glad to meet ye. My name is Cayse, ship _Iroquois_, bound on a sperm
whalin' cruise."

Further speech was denied them, for suddenly the thronging and excited
natives around them drew aside right and left as Charlik, with a face
beaming with smiles, came up to Cayse with outstretched hand, and
greeted him warmly in English. Then he turned quickly to the Englishman
and shook hands with him also, and asked him from whence he came.

"From Sydney. I came here to get wood, water, and provisions."

"Good. You can get all you want. Have you muskets and bullets to sell?"

"I can spare you some."

"Ah, that is good. I want plenty, plenty. Now come to my house and eat
and drink; then we can talk."

It was well on towards sunset before Charlik and Cayse had finished
their talk. Ross meanwhile had gone on board the barque for some
firearms which he was giving the king in exchange for several boatloads
of provisions. When he returned, with two of his crew carrying six
muskets, a keg of powder, and a bag of bullets, Cayse met him on the
threshold of the king's house.

"Come inside, mister. The king wants to talk to you on a matter of
business. I reckon you an' me together can do what he wants done. But
jest come along with me first. I want to show you the kind of fellow he
is when he gets upset."

The master of the sandalwooder followed the American across the wide
courtyard to some native houses. Stopping in front of one, from which
the low murmur of women's voices, broken now and then by a wailing cry,
proceeded, he desired Ross to look in through the doorway. A small fire
of coconut shells was burning in the centre of the room, and _by_ its
light Ross saw several women crouched round the bodies of three men,
performing the last offices for the dead. They looked at the white
strangers with apathetic indifference, but ceased their labours whilst
Ross bent down and examined the still faces. His scrutiny was brief,
but it was enough.

Cayse gave a sniggering laugh. "I reckon you'll feel sorter startled,
mister, when I tell you that you were the cause of those men getting
clubbed, hey?"

Ross frowned angrily. "What are you driving at? What the devil had I to
do with it?"

"On'y this. You see I'm the white-he