Carlos was taken aback, and he made a guttural exclamation of surprise.
"Do you dress like that when you are at home?" he asked of Colonel
James.
"I do," replied the colonel majestically.
"Then I bow down before you," said the chief, kneeling down and
touching the ground with his forehead three times. "But," he added, as
he rose to his feet, "you have not yet proved that we are brothers.
Where are your tattoo-marks? Look at mine!"
"Sam, strip," whispered Cleary, and Sam tore off his coat and shirt,
displaying the masterpieces of the artistic boatswain. A cry of
admiration went up from the assembled savages. Carlos rushed at
him, threw his arms about his neck, and rubbed his nose violently
against his.
"For heaven's sake, save me, Cleary!" cried Sam. "My nose will be worse
than Saunder's, and Marian is prejudiced against damaged noses."
Cleary thought it best not to interfere, and finally the chief grew
tired of this exercise. He hardly paid any attention while Cleary
showed the modest tattoo-marks on his arms, and Colonel James exhibited
equally insignificant symbols on his, for he, too, had been tattooed in
his youth. He was too much engrossed in Sam's red hair and his
variegated cuticle.
"Here is the picture of the water-ordeal which you forgot to look at,"
said Cleary, as he collected the photographs. "This is my friend again
with his head in the water and his legs stretched out in supplication
to the god of the temple.
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