Cumners Son and Other South Sea Folk | Page 4

vigorous, and natural.
Boonda Broke smiled passively.
"You mean, could hit a man the same way, honoured lord."
"I mean what I said," answered the lad, and he turned on his heel; but
presently he faced about again, as though with a wish to give his foe
the benefit of any doubt. Though Boonda Broke was smiling, the lad's
face flushed again with anger, for the man's real character had been
revealed to him on the instant, and he was yet in the indignant warmth
of the new experience. If he had known that Boonda Broke had
cultivated his friendship for months, to worm out of him all the secrets
of the Residency, there might have been a violent and immediate
conclusion to the incident, for the lad was fiery, and he had no fear in
his heart; he was combative, high-tempered, and daring. Boonda Broke
had learned no secrets of him, had been met by an unconscious but
steady resistance, and at length his patience had given way in spite of
himself. He had white blood in his veins--fighting Irish blood--which
sometimes overcame his smooth, Oriental secretiveness and cautious
duplicity; and this was one of those occasions. He had flung the knife at
the dog with a wish in his heart that it was Cumner's Son instead. As he

stood looking after the English lad, he said between his teeth with a
great hatred, though his face showed no change:
"English dog, thou shalt be dead like thy brother there when I am
Dakoon of Mandakan."
At this moment he saw hurrying towards him one of those natives who,
a little while before, had been in close and furtive talk in the Bazaar.
Meanwhile the little cloud of smoke kept curling out of the Governor's
door, and the orderly could catch the fitful murmur of talk that
followed it. Presently rifle shots rang out somewhere. Instantly a tall,
broad- shouldered figure, in white undress uniform, appeared in the
doorway and spoke quickly to the orderly. In a moment two troopers
were galloping out of the Residency Square and into the city. Before
two minutes had passed one had ridden back to the orderly, who
reported to the Colonel that the Dakoon had commanded the shooting
of five men of the tribe of the outlaw hill-chief, Pango Dooni, against
the rear wall of the Palace, where the Dakoon might look from his
window and see the deed.
The Colonel sat up eagerly in his chair, then brought his knuckles down
smartly on the table. He looked sharply at the three men who sat with
him.
"That clinches it," said he. "One of those fellows was Pango Dooni's
nephew, another was his wife's brother. It's the only thing to do--some
one must go to Pango Dooni, tell him the truth, ask him to come down
and save the place, and sit up there in the Dakoon's place. He'll stand by
us, and by England."
No one answered at first. Every face was gloomy. At last a grey-haired
captain of artillery spoke his mind in broken sentences:
"Never do--have to ride through a half-dozen sneaking tribes--Pango
Dooni, rank robber--steal like a barrack cat--besides, no man could get
there. Better stay where we are and fight it out till help comes."

"Help!" said Cumner bitterly. "We might wait six months before a
man- of-war put in. The danger is a matter of hours. A hundred men,
and a score of niggers--what would that be against thirty thousand
natives?"
"Pango Dooni is as likely to butcher us as the Dakoon," said McDermot,
the captain of artillery. Every man in the garrison had killed at least one
of Pango Dooni's men, and every man of them was known from the
Kimar Gate to the Neck of Baroob, where Pango Dooni lived and ruled.
The Colonel was not to be moved. "I'd ride the ninety miles myself, if
my place weren't here--no, don't think I doubt you, for I know you all!
But consider the nest of murderers that'll be let loose here when the
Dakoon dies. Better a strong robber with a strong robber's honour to
perch there in the Palace, than Boonda Broke and his cut-throats--"
"Honour--honour?--Pango Dooni!" broke out McDermot the gunner
scornfully.
"I know the man," said the Governor gruffly; "I know the man, I tell
you, and I'd take his word for ten thousand pounds, or a thousand head
of cattle. Is there any of you will ride to the Neck of Baroob for me?
For one it must be, and no more--we can spare scarce that, God
knows!" he added sadly. "The women and children--"
"I will go," said a voice behind them all; and Cumner's Son stepped
forward. "I will go, if I may ride the big sorrel from the Dakoon's