Other heads, thoroughly sun-dried and smoke-cured, were found in
abundance, but, with two exceptions, they were the heads of blacks. So
this was the manner of hunting that went on in the dark and evil forest,
Sheldon thought, as he regarded them. The atmosphere of the place was
sickening, yet he could not forbear to pause before one of Binu Charley's
finds.
"Me savvee black Mary, me savvee white Mary," quoth Binu Charley. "Me no
savvee that fella Mary. What name belong him?"
Sheldon looked. Ancient and withered, blackened by many years of the
smoke of the devil-devil house, nevertheless the shrunken, mummy-like
face was unmistakably Chinese. How it had come there was the mystery. It
was a woman's head, and he had never heard of a Chinese woman in the
history of the Solomons. From the ears hung two-inch-long ear-rings, and
at Sheldon's direction the Binu man rubbed away the accretions of smoke
and dirt, and from under his fingers appeared the polished green of jade,
the sheen of pearl, and the warm red of Oriental gold. The other head,
equally ancient, was a white man's, as the heavy blond moustache, twisted
and askew on the shrivelled upper lip, gave sufficient advertisement; and
Sheldon wondered what forgotten beche-de-mer fisherman or sandalwood
trader had gone to furnish that ghastly trophy.
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