We continued our march for many hours, and just as we came to the
end of a long bit of forest, the Notus came rushing back on to us in
great confusion. We soon learned the reason. At the end of a grassy
stretch of country was a village surrounded by a thick grove of coconut
and betel-nut palms, and some of the enemy's scouts had been seen,
and we heard their distant war-cry, a prolonged "ooh-h-h, ah-h-h,"
which was particularly thrilling, uttered as it was by great numbers of
voices. The Notus all huddled together, then replied in like language,
but their cry did not seem to possess the same defiant ring as that
of the Doboduras.
We three took off our helmets and crouched down with the police just
inside the forest, with our rifles ready for the expected rush of
the enemy, having sent the Notus out into the open, hoping thereby
to draw the enemy after them. We meant then to give them a lesson,
make some captures, and come to terms with their chief. Two or three
times the Notus came rushing back, and I fully expected to see the
Doboduras at their heels, but they were evidently aware that the
Notus were not alone, and all I could see was the distant village
and palm-trees shimmering in the quivering heated air, and the heads
of the Dobodura warriors crowned with feather head-dresses bobbing
about amid the tall grass, while ever and anon their distant war-cry
floated over the grassy plain.
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