We must seem to justify that fear. As the three Kia Kias draw near to us we beckon to them and, pointing to the barang, tell them sternly in Malay, to carry it up out of reach of the tide. The middle one draws himself up proudly at this and again points to the wreck of the _Nautilus_, saying, “_Uhumen!_” Again we indicate the barang and order it carried up the beach. The others in the grass have risen now and are watching intently but in silence the action of their chiefs.
The first rule in dealing with the native is never to allow him to disobey the orders of a white man, and we have given an order. It must be carried out. Once more we command them to move the barang, stepping close to the middle chief, who seems to be in authority. He refuses for them all. The time for action has come. He receives a forceful blow on the point of his jaw; without a sound he goes down. His six-foot body stretches out full-length on the sand, lies quiet for the moment; then, his senses slowly returning, he rises painfully and, cowering before us, goes to the pile of barang, selects the lightest of the pieces, carries it to a spot we designate, and deposits it there. Then he turns to the others and calls to them to come and assist him with the work.
We do not understand the meaning of his words and as a precautionary measure draw our Colt “forty-fives,” ready for an emergency. The automatics can speak a rapid language. Spears and war-clubs are not much of a match for them. We know the natives will not stand against firearms. At the first bark of the heavy pistols they would disappear into the jungle, never to return.
Moh seems to have vanished and we turn to look for him. There he is, standing so close behind us that he is like our shadow. His face is positively green. Poor devil! he is scared speechless! With the safe stowage of our equipment we stop to consider for a moment. The spot we are now on is well above the reach of the tide and will make an admirable camp site. It is far enough from the thick-growing cocoanuts to render us safe from surprise attack. We decide to pitch the tents here.
Since our first show of authority the natives have withdrawn to a discreet distance and are seated cross-legged in the sand, intently watching our preparations for camp-making. They are chattering volubly among themselves, though whether in anger or not, we cannot tell. Among our boxes we come to a carton of coarse shag tobacco which has been broken open and the idea comes that it might not be amiss to make them a little present as a sort of friendship offering.