A Head-Hunter Hunted 
IROFUFULI was one of a large band of savages who lived 
but a few years ago in a village far up on the hills of their 
island home in the Solomon group. They were head-hunters, 
and each sought to kill as many of his fellow beings as pos- 
sible. In their heathen savagery they believed that their 
power and importance were greatly increased by their ex- 
cessive killing. And thus they were until a mission school 
was established on their island near the seashore. 
After a time some of these fierce men left their mountain 
home and came down to the coast to attend the mission 
school. Others of their number were killed, and at last 
only a few were left to carry on the cruel business of head- 
hunting. Two of these strove in “ghastly competition” to 
kill the greatest number of their fellow men in a given time. 
They each kept sticks on which they cut a fresh notch every 
time they killed any one. They were feared and hated by 
all, and month by month the notches on their sticks became 
more numerous. 
One day Irofufuli, one of those two brutal fellows, was 
returning home. In front of him walked his wife, her bas- 
ket on her back. Just behind him walked his eldest boy, 
when his enemies who had been waiting for him, fired upon 
him from an ambuscade. Their shot took effect, and he fell 
as one dead. In great alarm his wife picked up his gun and 
fled for her life. His enemies, too, thinking him dead, left 
him where he fell, and running after his son, killed him with 
their knives. 
But Irofufuli was not dead. The shot before which he 
had fallen had lodged in his right arm, and as soon as his 
foes had gone, he scrambled to his feet and hid in the bush. 
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