"
Under Sheldon's direction the house-boys and gang-bosses collected the
scattered arms and piled them in a heap on the veranda. The modern
rifles, stolen from Lunga, Sheldon set aside; the Sniders he smashed into
fragments; the pile of spears, clubs, and tomahawks he presented to Joan.
"A really unique addition to your collection," he smiled; "picked up
right on the battlefield."
Down on the beach he built a bonfire out of the contents of the canoes,
his blacks smashing, breaking, and looting everything they laid hands on.
The canoes themselves, splintered and broken, filled with sand and coral-
boulders, were towed out to ten fathoms of water and sunk.
"Ten fathoms will be deep enough for them to work in," Sheldon said, as
they walked back to the compound.
Here a Saturnalia had broken loose. The war-songs and dances were more
unrestrained, and, from abuse, the plantation blacks had turned to
pelting their helpless foes with pieces of wood, handfuls of pebbles, and
chunks of coral-rock. And the seventy-five lusty cannibals clung
stoically to their tree-perches, enduring the rain of missiles and
snarling down promises of vengeance.
"There'll be wars for forty years on Malaita on account of this," Sheldon
laughed. "But I always fancy old Telepasse will never again attempt to
rush a plantation.
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