was busy arguing and persuading the woolly-headed cannibals to
come and labor on the Queensland plantations Otoo kept watch. And
often and often his low voice warned me of suspicious actions and
impending treachery. Sometimes it was the quick shot from his
rifle, knocking a nigger over, that was the first warning I
received. And in my rush to the boat his hand was always there to
jerk me flying aboard.

Once, I remember, on Santa Anna, the boat grounded just as the
trouble began. The covering boat was dashing to our assistance,
but the several score of savages would have wiped us out before
it arrived. Otoo took a flying leap ashore, dug both hands into
the trade goods, and scattered tobacco, beads, tomahawks, knives,
and calicoes in all directions. This was too much for the woolly
heads. While they scrambled for the treasures, the boat was
shoved clear and we were aboard and forty feet away. And I got
thirty recruits off that very beach in the next four hours.

The particular instance I have in mind was on Malaita, the most
savage island in the easterly Solomons. The natives had been
remarkably friendly; and how were we to know that the whole
village had been taking up a collection for over two years with
which to buy a white man's head? The beggars are all
head-hunters, and they especially esteem that of a white man. The
fellow who captured the head would receive the whole collection.
As I say, they appeared very friendly, and this day I was fully a
hundred yards down the beach from the boat. Otoo had cautioned
me, and, as usual when I did not heed him, I came to grief. The
first thing I knew a cloud of spears sailed out of the mangrove
swamp at me. At least a dozen were sticking into me. I started to