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The ball passed through the chest of Makoi. Then four men picked up the body and carried it into a house. Probyn laid down the musket and motioned again to Niabong. She handed him a hatchet and blunt chisel. Tahori smiled pleasantly, and, drawing the little boy to him, patted his head. Then, at a sign from him, a woman brought Niabong a shell of sweet toddy.
The chief sat cross-legged and watched Probyn opening the tierce of tobacco. Niabong locked the box again and sat upon it. "Who are you?" said Tahori, still caressing the boy, to the white man's wife. "Niabong. But my tongue twists with your talk here. By-and-by I shall understand it." "True. He is a great man, thy man," said the chief, nodding at Probyn. "A great man, truly.
The other natives fell back. Niabong, Probyn's wife, set her boy on his feet, put her hand in her bosom and drew out a key, with which she opened the chest. She threw back the lid, fixed her black eyes on Probyn, and waited. Probyn, holding the musket in his left hand, mused a moment. Then he asked: "Whose man is he?" "Mine," said Tahori; "he is from Oaitupu, and my bondman." "Hath he a wife?"
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