"Then what right had that boat," asked the interpreter, pointing to
the _Sabah_, "to shell the barrio, destroying property and killing?"

This question was received by Lewis and the sergeant with grave
surprise. Solemnly they exchanged inquiring glances, then in
mock indignation glowered at the _Sabah_. The _Sabah_ disturb the
peace? When had that happened?

Insolently the interpreter related the story of the attack, and a
rustle of surprise and delight ran through the troop. Sorrowfully
Lewis and the sergeant shook their heads, and the sultan, puzzled
at first, began to realize that he was dealing with a new kind of
"Americano." The two men's heads bent lower and lower as they sorrowed
over the misdemeanor of their little boat. Weighed down with grief,
Lewis signaled Piang to prepare for his reply to the noble visitor.

How could he (Lewis) appease the powerful sultan for this mishap? What
amends could he make for the treachery of his little gunboat? Not
even he [his hands went up in imitation of the sultan's own gesture
of the day before] could help it, powerful officer though he was. It
was Christmas, a most holy day, and doubtless before dawn the truant
craft had slipped out of the harbor without permission and had gone
juramentadoing.

"Attention!" commanded Sergeant Greer, startling the troop into
rigidness. Their delight had almost expressed itself in a whoop.

With exaggerated gestures, Lewis continued.

Did the Moro not have similar customs? And did the sultan
not sympathize with him in his inability to stop this dreadful
practice in the Celebes Sea? American boats are dangerous on their
feast days, and no one can tell when they may go juramentadoing to
celebrate the occasion. That is the only custom they could celebrate
to-day. Look! [He pointed at the pitiful banana-trees.] There are no
gifts to adorn them with, no turkeys to kill; and the soldiers' hearts
are sad. But the _Sabah_ evidently appreciated her capabilities,
and doubtless before night she would again honor her country by
recklessly shelling the jungle.

At this moment from the _Sabah_ a shrill whistle echoed through the
forest, scattering the assembled guests in all directions. Some took
to trees, others threw themselves face down, on the ground.

The sultan was furious. He gruffly ordered his subjects back, and his
beady eyes glared at the impostor, but he was too much of a diplomat to
display his feelings further. The soldiers had bee