"'Oh! men of the upper coast,' he said, 'you are more numerous
than we are; your tribe is larger, your endurance greater. We are
growing hungry, we are growing less in numbers. Our captives--your
women and children and old men--have lessened, too, our stores of
food. If you refuse our terms we will yet fight to the finish.
To-morrow we will kill all our captives before your eyes, for we can
feed them no longer, or you can have your wives, your mothers, your
fathers, your children, by giving us for each and every one of them
one of your best and bravest young warriors, who will consent to
suffer death in their stead. Speak! You have your choice.'

"In the northern canoes scores and scores of young warriors leapt
to their feet. The air was filled with glad cries, with exultant
shouts. The whole world seemed to ring with the voices of those
young men who called loudly, with glorious courage:

"'Take me, but give me back my old father.'

"'Take me, but spare to my tribe my little sister.'

"'Take me, but release my wife and boy-baby.'

"So the compact was made. Two hundred heroic, magnificent young men
paddled up to the island, broke through the fortifying circle of
canoes, and stepped ashore. They flaunted their eagle plumes with
the spirit and boldness of young gods. Their shoulders were erect,
their step was firm, their hearts strong. Into their canoes they
crowded the two hundred captives. Once more their women sobbed,
their old men muttered, their children wailed, but those young