Gordon walked with Bradley, Jr., in advance. Stedman and old
Tom Bradley followed close behind, with the two shot-guns, and
the presents in a basket.

"Are these Hillmen used to guns?" asked Gordon. Stedman said
no, they were not.

"This shot-gun of mine is the only one on the island," he
explained, "and we never came near enough them before to do
anything with it. It only carries a hundred yards. The
Opekians never make any show of resistance. They are quite
content if the Hillmen satisfy themselves with the outlying
huts, as long as they leave them and the town alone; so they
seldom come to close quarters."

The four men walked on for half an hour or so in silence,
peering eagerly on every side; but it was not until they had
left the woods and marched out into the level stretch of
grassy country that they came upon the enemy. The Hillmen
were about forty in number, and were as savage and ugly-looking
giants as any in a picture-book. They had captured a
dozen cows and goats, and were driving them on before them, as
they advanced farther upon the village. When they saw the
four men, they gave a mixed chorus of cries and yells, and
some of them stopped, and others ran forward, shaking their
spears, and shooting their broad arrows into the ground before
them. A tall, gray-bearded, muscular old man, with a skirt of
feathers about him, and necklaces of bones and animals' claws
around his bare chest, ran in front of them, and seemed to be
trying to make them approach more slowly.