Life and death to Tamate and his friends hung in the balance, for they were three people unarmed, and here were dark savage warriors in hundreds.  Everything depended on his choosing just the right moment for going into the midst of these people.  So he watched them closely, knitting his shaggy eyebrows together as he measured their state of mind by their actions.  He was the Scout of Christ in Papua, and he must be watchful and note all those things that escape most men but mean so much to trained eyes.  Tamate seemed to have a strange gift that made him able, even where other men could tell nothing, to say exactly when it was, and when it was not, possible to go among a wild, untouched tribe.

Now the bewildered Ialan savages had grown quieter.  Tamate called to the engineer to drive ahead once more.  Slowly the launch forged her way through the running waters and drew nearer and nearer to the centre of Iala.

There on either side stood the houses in long rows stretching up the river, and on the banks hundreds of men stood silent and as still as trees.  Their canoes lay half in and half out of the water ready for instant launching.  In each canoe stood its crew erect and waiting.  All the women and children had been sent away, for these men were out to fight.  They did not know whether this strange house upon the water with the smoke coming from its chimney was the work of gods or devils.  Still they stood there to face the strange thing and, if need be, to fight.

Brown Iko stood in the bows of the Miro; near him stood Tamate.  Then the engine stopped and the anchor was dropped overboard.  The savages stood motionless.  Not a weapon could be seen.  The engineer, hearing the anchor-chain rattle through the hole, blew the steam-whistle in simple high spirits.  As the shriek of the whistle echoed under the arches of the trees, with the swiftness of lightning the Ialan warriors swung their long bows from behind their bodies.  Without stooping each caught up an arrow that stood between his toes and with one movement fixed it and pulled the bamboo strings of their black bows till the notch of the arrows touched their ears.  A hundred arrows were aimed at the hearts of Tamate and Mr. and Mrs. Abel.

Swiftly Iko stood upon the bulwark of the Miro, and shouted just one word at the top of his voice.  It was the Ialan word for “Peace.”  And again he shouted it, and yet again “Peace, Peace!”

Then he cried out “Pouta!"[41] It was the name of the chief of these savages.  They had but to let the arrows from their bows and all would have been over.  There was silence.  What order would Pouta give?

Then from the bank on their right came the sound of an answering voice.  In a flash every arrow was taken from its bow, and again not a weapon was to be seen.

Iko then called out again to Pouta, and Tamate told Iko what he was to say to his friend, the savage chief.  For some minutes the conversation went on.  At last Iko came to the point of asking for a canoe to take them ashore.