They Returned To The Party, Who Did Not
Anticipate Any Danger From This Strange Occurrence, Till One Of The
Negroes Suddenly Cried Out, "War Is Coming!
Oh, war is coming!" A fierce
band of men, armed with spears, cutlasses, muskets, and bows and arrows,
rushed towards the little encampment.
Resistance was vain against such an
overwhelming force, and the only resource of the travellers was to adopt
pacific measures. They threw down their useless weapons, and walked
forward boldly towards the chief. The natives seemed determined to attack
them; the chief's "quiver was dangling at his side, his bow was bent, and
an arrow which was pointed at their breasts, already trembled on the
string. But just as he was about to pull the fatal cord, a man that was
nearest him rushed forward and stayed his arm. At that instant we stood
before them, and immediately held forth our hands; all of them trembled
like aspen-leaves; the chief looked up full in our faces, kneeling on the
ground; light seemed to flash from his dark rolling eyes, his body was
convulsed all over, as though he were enduring the utmost torture, and
with a timorous, yet undefinable expression of countenance, in which all
the passions of our nature were strangely blended, he drooped his head,
eagerly grasped our proffered hands, and burst into tears. This was a
sign of friendship; harmony followed, and war and bloodshed were thought
of no more." His followers showed equal delight. They gave repeated
shouts, thrust their arrows into their quivers, fired off their muskets,
shook their spears, danced, laughed, sung, and cried in succession, and
in short behaved like madmen.
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