STUMP was not proud of his exploit. The lads saw that he trembled violently, and his face showed that his nerves were unstrung.
“It was my life or his,” he said sorrowfully. “Klinger had put me in charge of the store when he was arrested. During the fight on the Siumu road I was inside the store. Scott and several natives came from the bush and made me go with them. I was afraid to refuse. They led me away. Some time later our party was attacked by the Panu men. They did not attack Captain Scott, who held me by the arm and told me he’d blow my head off if I ran away. When the Kataafa men were running away Scott saw that we must run too. He beat and kicked me to make me go faster. I had been wounded in the left arm.” Here Stump showed his bandaged arm. “The wound hurt me and made me desperate. By this time we were surrounded by Panu men. I appealed to them for help, but they only laughed. One man, however, came to me and handed me a gun. Scott did not see what was done; he was dragging me along toward the retreating Kataafa men.
“The next thing I knew,” Stump declared, a strong fit of trembling seizing him at the thought, “I had stuck the muzzle of the gun close to his neck and pulled the trigger. He let go his hold of me and I ran. I heard the shouts and laughter of the natives behind me.”
“I reckon you won’t be hung for it,” O’Neil said consolingly. “The killing of that scoundrel and pirate is probably the most useful thing for humanity you’ve ever done, Stump. Now I advise you to dig out on the next steamer and go home.”
The defenders of Ukula at last were able to relax in a measure their vigilance. The Kataafa warriors had been badly shattered, and further attacks were not likely until they could replenish their store of ammunition. The arrest of Klinger blocked one source of supply. Many thousands of rounds fitting the enemy’s rifles had been found by the allied sailors after a search of the Kapuan firm’s store. Kataafa had probably counted upon the capture of Ukula long enough to restock his expended ammunition.
The midshipmen dined that evening with the Lees. Alice was eager to hear the gruesome details of the fighting and was greatly surprised when the lads declared that neither they nor O’Neil had been wounded.
“How could you help being?” she asked doubtingly. “The air all afternoon was full of lead. We all hid behind furniture stacked up like a fort up-stairs. The house was hit, you know, lots of times.”
“Where’s Avao?” Phil asked; he had not seen her for several days.
“She was with her father in the trenches,” Alice replied, admiration in her eyes. “She was here an hour ago and told us all about the fight.”
“Yes,” Miss Lee added smiling upon her enthusiastic sister, “Alice was restrained from being on the scene only by force. Father and I had all we could do to keep her at home.”
After dinner Admiral Spotts and Commander Tazewell came in to confer with Mr. Lee.
“I have just found out,” the admiral said, “that the Herzovinian war-ship brought a refusal of annexation to Kataafa, and Count Rosen was informed that he must act in concert with other nations to prevent bloodshed. The count returns to-morrow in the mail steamer for Australia.”
At daylight the next morning Lieutenant Gant led his entire native regiment over the road taken by the small force some days before. The enemy was not encountered until they arrived at the Vaileli plantation. There a few shots were exchanged, but the Kataafa men were not in force and quickly scattered into the bush. The advance guard under Tuamana pursued them and returned after a half hour’s chase with several native heads, and besides carrying the body of a white man, who had been shot and killed fleeing with the Kataafa men. It was the missing marine orderly, Schultz.
The regiment returned over the same road recently traversed by the ill-fated party. The midshipmen and O’Neil sought for the Colt gun. Childers had dismounted the breech mechanism during that disastrous battle and brought it to the beach with him upon his retreat. The gun had been taken away by the Kataafa warriors, although they were unable to use it. No signs of bodies or arms were found; the victors had carried away all spoils of their vanquished enemy.
When the expedition reached Ukula, the mail steamer from San Francisco was in port. The admiral, the war-ship captains and the three consuls had held a meeting to discuss the instructions received in the mail from their respective governments.
“A commission has been appointed to finally decide the fate of Kapua,” Commander Tazewell told the lads as they joined him after turning over their native company to its native chief. “We are sending word to Kataafa declaring a truce. He has retired with all his warriors to Saluafata. Klinger will carry the message and the mail steamer is to wait until he returns. Klinger has agreed to leave the islands. He and Count Rosen go together.”
The midshipmen were delighted. The war had ceased to be exciting. They felt that the useless killing of natives should stop. It had gone too far already. With Rosen, Klinger and Scott out of the way, a peaceful settlement would be possible.
They told the captain of the death of his unfaithful orderly and of burying him at Vaileli.
Commander Tazewell was thoughtful for several minutes. “Poor fellow,” he said. “I suppose he could not withstand the golden bribe offered him.”
Kataafa sent in word that he agreed to suspend hostilities and would remain in Saluafata, ten miles away from Ukula.
The mail steamer departed, carrying with it the two men who had overreached themselves in their patriotic endeavor to bring Kapua under the control of their own nation.
The American and English sailors and the natives loyal to Panu meanwhile garrisoned and preserved order in Ukula and over the surrounding country.
Stump was rewarded and sent home on a mail steamer, promising to look up his folks and turn over a new leaf.
One day, several weeks after the last fight, another American war-ship came to anchor in the harbor of Ukula. On board were three great commissioners of the treaty powers.
Two days later Phil and Sydney said good-bye to their friends in Ukula. The war-ships “Sitka” and “Sacramento” were under orders to return to the United States.
As the two war-ships lifted their anchors, many canoes filled with natives hung in the quiet water about them. The sweet plaintive air of the Kapuan farewell song floated up to the ears of the midshipmen, really sorry to leave behind those for whom they had formed a strong bond of friendship.
Some days later the midshipmen dined in the cabin with Commander Tazewell.
“What has Herzovinia gained in Kapua after all the years of stirring up uncertainty and strife?” Sydney asked earnestly.
“Her policy has been to prove to the other nations that the islands are not worth the trouble to govern them,” the commander answered. “She has proved that the three nation control cannot be carried on with peace. She has lost her own sailors in fighting rebels and we have lost ours.
“She still persists in her desire for the islands. England and America are almost on the point of giving up the struggle. You will find,” he added, “that Herzovinia will be given most if not all of Kapua by the commission now working for a settlement there.”
The midshipmen remembered this accurate summing up when a month or so later the decision of the commission was given out to the world.
“Know what you want, and always keep wanting it and trying to get it; it’s a cinch that you can’t miss it,” was O’Neil’s moral, derived from his Kapuan experiences.