made one's blood run
cold, especially under such surroundings. All the camp was now in the
utmost confusion, and there was a great panic among our carriers, who
flung themselves on the ground yelling with fear. Never was there such
a fiendish noise! I sprang to my feet, flinging my note-book away and
picking up my rifle, and ran back to where Monckton was yelling out:
"Fall in, fall in, for God's sake fall in!"

Two houses were hastily set on fire, and instantly became furnaces
which lit up the surroundings and the tops of the tall coconut palms
over-head, which even in this moment of danger appeared to me like
a glimpse of fairyland. I noticed a line of fire-sticks waving in
the darkness outside. They seemed to be slowly advancing, and in the
excitement of the moment I mistook them for the enemy--and fired!

Luckily, my shot did not take effect, as I soon found out that these
fire-sticks were held by some of our own carriers, who had been told
by Monckton to carry them so that we could distinguish them from the
enemy in case we were attacked. Monckton turned to where the Notus,
were, and seeing them all decked out in their war plumes, dancing
about among the prostrate carriers, and waving their clubs and spears,
naturally took them for Dobodura warriors, and nearly fired at them. He
angrily ordered them to take off their feathers.

Calmness soon settled down again, and we learned that the police had
fired at some Doboduras who were creeping up into the camp. How many
there were we could not tell, but later on we learnt that some of
them had been killed, and seeing the flash of the rifles, which was
a new experience to them, the rest had retreated for the time being,
but soon rallied together for attack that night or in the small hours
of the morning. Knowing that if they once rushed us in the darkness
we should all be doomed for their cooking pots, the state of our
feelings can be imagined.

The first attempt came rather as a shock to a peaceful novice like
myself, and seeing warriors in full war paint and feathers rushing
about with uplifted club and spear amid our prostrate squirming
carriers, I had a very strong inclination to bury myself in the nearest
hut and softly hum the lines, "I care not for wars and quarrels,"
etc. We sat talking in subdued tones for some time, expecting every
minute to hear the thrilling war cry of the Doboduras, but nothing was
to be heard but the crackling of the embers of the burnin