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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/1208-0.txt b/1208-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2d60548 --- /dev/null +++ b/1208-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5425 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1208 *** + +SOUTH SEA TALES + +By Jack London + + + +CONTENTS + +The House of Mapuhi + +The Whale Tooth + +Mauki + +“Yah! Yah! Yah!” + +The Heathen + +The Terrible Solomons + +The Inevitable White Man + +The Seed of McCoy + + + + +THE HOUSE OF MAPUHI + +Despite the heavy clumsiness of her lines, the Aorai handled easily in +the light breeze, and her captain ran her well in before he hove to just +outside the suck of the surf. The atoll of Hikueru lay low on the water, +a circle of pounded coral sand a hundred yards wide, twenty miles in +circumference, and from three to five feet above high-water mark. On the +bottom of the huge and glassy lagoon was much pearl shell, and from the +deck of the schooner, across the slender ring of the atoll, the divers +could be seen at work. But the lagoon had no entrance for even a trading +schooner. With a favoring breeze cutters could win in through the +tortuous and shallow channel, but the schooners lay off and on outside +and sent in their small boats. + +The Aorai swung out a boat smartly, into which sprang half a dozen +brown-skinned sailors clad only in scarlet loincloths. They took the +oars, while in the stern sheets, at the steering sweep, stood a young +man garbed in the tropic white that marks the European. The golden +strain of Polynesia betrayed itself in the sun-gilt of his fair skin +and cast up golden sheens and lights through the glimmering blue of his +eyes. Raoul he was, Alexandre Raoul, youngest son of Marie Raoul, +the wealthy quarter-caste, who owned and managed half a dozen trading +schooners similar to the Aorai. Across an eddy just outside the +entrance, and in and through and over a boiling tide-rip, the boat +fought its way to the mirrored calm of the lagoon. Young Raoul leaped +out upon the white sand and shook hands with a tall native. The man's +chest and shoulders were magnificent, but the stump of a right arm, +beyond the flesh of which the age-whitened bone projected several +inches, attested the encounter with a shark that had put an end to his +diving days and made him a fawner and an intriguer for small favors. + +“Have you heard, Alec?” were his first words. “Mapuhi has found a +pearl--such a pearl. Never was there one like it ever fished up in +Hikueru, nor in all the Paumotus, nor in all the world. Buy it from him. +He has it now. And remember that I told you first. He is a fool and you +can get it cheap. Have you any tobacco?” + +Straight up the beach to a shack under a pandanus tree Raoul headed. +He was his mother's supercargo, and his business was to comb all the +Paumotus for the wealth of copra, shell, and pearls that they yielded +up. + +He was a young supercargo, it was his second voyage in such capacity, +and he suffered much secret worry from his lack of experience in pricing +pearls. But when Mapuhi exposed the pearl to his sight he managed to +suppress the startle it gave him, and to maintain a careless, commercial +expression on his face. For the pearl had struck him a blow. It was +large as a pigeon egg, a perfect sphere, of a whiteness that reflected +opalescent lights from all colors about it. It was alive. Never had +he seen anything like it. When Mapuhi dropped it into his hand he was +surprised by the weight of it. That showed that it was a good pearl. He +examined it closely, through a pocket magnifying glass. It was without +flaw or blemish. The purity of it seemed almost to melt into the +atmosphere out of his hand. In the shade it was softly luminous, +gleaming like a tender moon. So translucently white was it, that when +he dropped it into a glass of water he had difficulty in finding it. So +straight and swiftly had it sunk to the bottom that he knew its weight +was excellent. + +“Well, what do you want for it?” he asked, with a fine assumption of +nonchalance. + +“I want--” Mapuhi began, and behind him, framing his own dark face, the +dark faces of two women and a girl nodded concurrence in what he wanted. +Their heads were bent forward, they were animated by a suppressed +eagerness, their eyes flashed avariciously. + +“I want a house,” Mapuhi went on. “It must have a roof of galvanized +iron and an octagon-drop-clock. It must be six fathoms long with a porch +all around. A big room must be in the centre, with a round table in the +middle of it and the octagon-drop-clock on the wall. There must be four +bedrooms, two on each side of the big room, and in each bedroom must be +an iron bed, two chairs, and a washstand. And back of the house must be +a kitchen, a good kitchen, with pots and pans and a stove. And you must +build the house on my island, which is Fakarava.” + +“Is that all?” Raoul asked incredulously. + +“There must be a sewing machine,” spoke up Tefara, Mapuhi's wife. + +“Not forgetting the octagon-drop-clock,” added Nauri, Mapuhi's mother. + +“Yes, that is all,” said Mapuhi. + +Young Raoul laughed. He laughed long and heartily. But while he laughed +he secretly performed problems in mental arithmetic. He had never built +a house in his life, and his notions concerning house building were +hazy. While he laughed, he calculated the cost of the voyage to Tahiti +for materials, of the materials themselves, of the voyage back again +to Fakarava, and the cost of landing the materials and of building the +house. It would come to four thousand French dollars, allowing a margin +for safety--four thousand French dollars were equivalent to twenty +thousand francs. It was impossible. How was he to know the value of such +a pearl? Twenty thousand francs was a lot of money--and of his mother's +money at that. + +“Mapuhi,” he said, “you are a big fool. Set a money price.” + +But Mapuhi shook his head, and the three heads behind him shook with +his. + +“I want the house,” he said. “It must be six fathoms long with a porch +all around--” + +“Yes, yes,” Raoul interrupted. “I know all about your house, but it +won't do. I'll give you a thousand Chili dollars.” + +The four heads chorused a silent negative. + +“And a hundred Chili dollars in trade.” + +“I want the house,” Mapuhi began. + +“What good will the house do you?” Raoul demanded. “The first hurricane +that comes along will wash it away. You ought to know.” + +“Captain Raffy says it looks like a hurricane right now.” + +“Not on Fakarava,” said Mapuhi. “The land is much higher there. On this +island, yes. Any hurricane can sweep Hikueru. I will have the house on +Fakarava. It must be six fathoms long with a porch all around--” + +And Raoul listened again to the tale of the house. Several hours he +spent in the endeavor to hammer the house obsession out of Mapuhi's +mind; but Mapuhi's mother and wife, and Ngakura, Mapuhi's daughter, +bolstered him in his resolve for the house. Through the open doorway, +while he listened for the twentieth time to the detailed description of +the house that was wanted, Raoul saw his schooner's second boat draw up +on the beach. The sailors rested on the oars, advertising haste to be +gone. The first mate of the Aorai sprang ashore, exchanged a word with +the one-armed native, then hurried toward Raoul. The day grew suddenly +dark, as a squall obscured the face of the sun. Across the lagoon Raoul +could see approaching the ominous line of the puff of wind. + +“Captain Raffy says you've got to get to hell outa here,” was the mate's +greeting. “If there's any shell, we've got to run the risk of +picking it up later on--so he says. The barometer's dropped to +twenty-nine-seventy.” + +The gust of wind struck the pandanus tree overhead and tore through the +palms beyond, flinging half a dozen ripe cocoanuts with heavy thuds to +the ground. Then came the rain out of the distance, advancing with the +roar of a gale of wind and causing the water of the lagoon to smoke in +driven windrows. The sharp rattle of the first drops was on the leaves +when Raoul sprang to his feet. + +“A thousand Chili dollars, cash down, Mapuhi,” he said. “And two hundred +Chili dollars in trade.” + +“I want a house--” the other began. + +“Mapuhi!” Raoul yelled, in order to make himself heard. “You are a +fool!” + +He flung out of the house, and, side by side with the mate, fought his +way down the beach toward the boat. They could not see the boat. The +tropic rain sheeted about them so that they could see only the beach +under their feet and the spiteful little waves from the lagoon that +snapped and bit at the sand. A figure appeared through the deluge. It +was Huru-Huru, the man with the one arm. + +“Did you get the pearl?” he yelled in Raoul's ear. + +“Mapuhi is a fool!” was the answering yell, and the next moment they +were lost to each other in the descending water. + +Half an hour later, Huru-Huru, watching from the seaward side of the +atoll, saw the two boats hoisted in and the Aorai pointing her nose +out to sea. And near her, just come in from the sea on the wings of the +squall, he saw another schooner hove to and dropping a boat into the +water. He knew her. It was the OROHENA, owned by Toriki, the half-caste +trader, who served as his own supercargo and who doubtlessly was even +then in the stern sheets of the boat. Huru-Huru chuckled. He knew that +Mapuhi owed Toriki for trade goods advanced the year before. + +The squall had passed. The hot sun was blazing down, and the lagoon was +once more a mirror. But the air was sticky like mucilage, and the weight +of it seemed to burden the lungs and make breathing difficult. + +“Have you heard the news, Toriki?” Huru-Huru asked. “Mapuhi has found +a pearl. Never was there a pearl like it ever fished up in Hikueru, nor +anywhere in the Paumotus, nor anywhere in all the world. Mapuhi is a +fool. Besides, he owes you money. Remember that I told you first. Have +you any tobacco?” + +And to the grass shack of Mapuhi went Toriki. He was a masterful man, +withal a fairly stupid one. Carelessly he glanced at the wonderful +pearl--glanced for a moment only; and carelessly he dropped it into his +pocket. + +“You are lucky,” he said. “It is a nice pearl. I will give you credit on +the books.” + +“I want a house,” Mapuhi began, in consternation. “It must be six +fathoms--” + +“Six fathoms your grandmother!” was the trader's retort. “You want to +pay up your debts, that's what you want. You owed me twelve hundred +dollars Chili. Very well; you owe them no longer. The amount is squared. +Besides, I will give you credit for two hundred Chili. If, when I get +to Tahiti, the pearl sells well, I will give you credit for another +hundred--that will make three hundred. But mind, only if the pearl sells +well. I may even lose money on it.” + +Mapuhi folded his arms in sorrow and sat with bowed head. He had been +robbed of his pearl. In place of the house, he had paid a debt. There +was nothing to show for the pearl. + +“You are a fool,” said Tefara. + +“You are a fool,” said Nauri, his mother. “Why did you let the pearl +into his hand?” + +“What was I to do?” Mapuhi protested. “I owed him the money. He knew I +had the pearl. You heard him yourself ask to see it. I had not told him. +He knew. Somebody else told him. And I owed him the money.” + +“Mapuhi is a fool,” mimicked Ngakura. + +She was twelve years old and did not know any better. Mapuhi relieved +his feelings by sending her reeling from a box on the ear; while Tefara +and Nauri burst into tears and continued to upbraid him after the manner +of women. + +Huru-Huru, watching on the beach, saw a third schooner that he knew +heave to outside the entrance and drop a boat. It was the Hira, well +named, for she was owned by Levy, the German Jew, the greatest pearl +buyer of them all, and, as was well known, Hira was the Tahitian god of +fishermen and thieves. + +“Have you heard the news?” Huru-Huru asked, as Levy, a fat man with +massive asymmetrical features, stepped out upon the beach. “Mapuhi has +found a pearl. There was never a pearl like it in Hikueru, in all the +Paumotus, in all the world. Mapuhi is a fool. He has sold it to Toriki +for fourteen hundred Chili--I listened outside and heard. Toriki is +likewise a fool. You can buy it from him cheap. Remember that I told you +first. Have you any tobacco?” + +“Where is Toriki?” + +“In the house of Captain Lynch, drinking absinthe. He has been there an +hour.” + +And while Levy and Toriki drank absinthe and chaffered over the pearl, +Huru-Huru listened and heard the stupendous price of twenty-five +thousand francs agreed upon. + +It was at this time that both the OROHENA and the Hira, running in close +to the shore, began firing guns and signalling frantically. The three +men stepped outside in time to see the two schooners go hastily about +and head off shore, dropping mainsails and flying jibs on the run in +the teeth of the squall that heeled them far over on the whitened water. +Then the rain blotted them out. + +“They'll be back after it's over,” said Toriki. “We'd better be getting +out of here.” + +“I reckon the glass has fallen some more,” said Captain Lynch. + +He was a white-bearded sea-captain, too old for service, who had learned +that the only way to live on comfortable terms with his asthma was on +Hikueru. He went inside to look at the barometer. + +“Great God!” they heard him exclaim, and rushed in to join him at +staring at a dial, which marked twenty-nine-twenty. + +Again they came out, this time anxiously to consult sea and sky. +The squall had cleared away, but the sky remained overcast. The two +schooners, under all sail and joined by a third, could be seen making +back. A veer in the wind induced them to slack off sheets, and five +minutes afterward a sudden veer from the opposite quarter caught all +three schooners aback, and those on shore could see the boom-tackles +being slacked away or cast off on the jump. The sound of the surf was +loud, hollow, and menacing, and a heavy swell was setting in. A terrible +sheet of lightning burst before their eyes, illuminating the dark day, +and the thunder rolled wildly about them. + +Toriki and Levy broke into a run for their boats, the latter ambling +along like a panic-stricken hippopotamus. As their two boats swept out +the entrance, they passed the boat of the Aorai coming in. In the stern +sheets, encouraging the rowers, was Raoul. Unable to shake the vision of +the pearl from his mind, he was returning to accept Mapuhi's price of a +house. + +He landed on the beach in the midst of a driving thunder squall that was +so dense that he collided with Huru-Huru before he saw him. + +“Too late,” yelled Huru-Huru. “Mapuhi sold it to Toriki for fourteen +hundred Chili, and Toriki sold it to Levy for twenty-five thousand +francs. And Levy will sell it in France for a hundred thousand francs. +Have you any tobacco?” + +Raoul felt relieved. His troubles about the pearl were over. He need not +worry any more, even if he had not got the pearl. But he did not believe +Huru-Huru. Mapuhi might well have sold it for fourteen hundred Chili, +but that Levy, who knew pearls, should have paid twenty-five thousand +francs was too wide a stretch. Raoul decided to interview Captain Lynch +on the subject, but when he arrived at that ancient mariner's house, he +found him looking wide-eyed at the barometer. + +“What do you read it?” Captain Lynch asked anxiously, rubbing his +spectacles and staring again at the instrument. + +“Twenty-nine-ten,” said Raoul. “I have never seen it so low before.” + +“I should say not!” snorted the captain. “Fifty years boy and man on all +the seas, and I've never seen it go down to that. Listen!” + +They stood for a moment, while the surf rumbled and shook the house. +Then they went outside. The squall had passed. They could see the +Aorai lying becalmed a mile away and pitching and tossing madly in +the tremendous seas that rolled in stately procession down out of the +northeast and flung themselves furiously upon the coral shore. One of +the sailors from the boat pointed at the mouth of the passage and shook +his head. Raoul looked and saw a white anarchy of foam and surge. + +“I guess I'll stay with you tonight, Captain,” he said; then turned to +the sailor and told him to haul the boat out and to find shelter for +himself and fellows. + +“Twenty-nine flat,” Captain Lynch reported, coming out from another look +at the barometer, a chair in his hand. + +He sat down and stared at the spectacle of the sea. The sun came out, +increasing the sultriness of the day, while the dead calm still held. +The seas continued to increase in magnitude. + +“What makes that sea is what gets me,” Raoul muttered petulantly. + +“There is no wind, yet look at it, look at that fellow there!” + +Miles in length, carrying tens of thousands of tons in weight, its +impact shook the frail atoll like an earthquake. Captain Lynch was +startled. + +“Gracious!” he bellowed, half rising from his chair, then sinking back. + +“But there is no wind,” Raoul persisted. “I could understand it if there +was wind along with it.” + +“You'll get the wind soon enough without worryin' for it,” was the grim +reply. + +The two men sat on in silence. The sweat stood out on their skin in +myriads of tiny drops that ran together, forming blotches of moisture, +which, in turn, coalesced into rivulets that dripped to the ground. They +panted for breath, the old man's efforts being especially painful. A +sea swept up the beach, licking around the trunks of the cocoanuts and +subsiding almost at their feet. + +“Way past high water mark,” Captain Lynch remarked; “and I've been here +eleven years.” He looked at his watch. “It is three o'clock.” + +A man and woman, at their heels a motley following of brats and curs, +trailed disconsolately by. They came to a halt beyond the house, and, +after much irresolution, sat down in the sand. A few minutes later +another family trailed in from the opposite direction, the men and women +carrying a heterogeneous assortment of possessions. And soon several +hundred persons of all ages and sexes were congregated about the +captain's dwelling. He called to one new arrival, a woman with a nursing +babe in her arms, and in answer received the information that her house +had just been swept into the lagoon. + +This was the highest spot of land in miles, and already, in many places +on either hand, the great seas were making a clean breach of the slender +ring of the atoll and surging into the lagoon. Twenty miles around +stretched the ring of the atoll, and in no place was it more than fifty +fathoms wide. It was the height of the diving season, and from all the +islands around, even as far as Tahiti, the natives had gathered. + +“There are twelve hundred men, women, and children here,” said Captain +Lynch. “I wonder how many will be here tomorrow morning.” + +“But why don't it blow?--that's what I want to know,” Raoul demanded. + +“Don't worry, young man, don't worry; you'll get your troubles fast +enough.” + +Even as Captain Lynch spoke, a great watery mass smote the atoll. + +The sea water churned about them three inches deep under the chairs. A +low wail of fear went up from the many women. The children, with clasped +hands, stared at the immense rollers and cried piteously. Chickens and +cats, wading perturbedly in the water, as by common consent, with flight +and scramble took refuge on the roof of the captain's house. A Paumotan, +with a litter of new-born puppies in a basket, climbed into a cocoanut +tree and twenty feet above the ground made the basket fast. The mother +floundered about in the water beneath, whining and yelping. + +And still the sun shone brightly and the dead calm continued. They sat +and watched the seas and the insane pitching of the Aorai. Captain Lynch +gazed at the huge mountains of water sweeping in until he could gaze +no more. He covered his face with his hands to shut out the sight; then +went into the house. + +“Twenty-eight-sixty,” he said quietly when he returned. + +In his arm was a coil of small rope. He cut it into two-fathom lengths, +giving one to Raoul and, retaining one for himself, distributed the +remainder among the women with the advice to pick out a tree and climb. + +A light air began to blow out of the northeast, and the fan of it on +his cheek seemed to cheer Raoul up. He could see the Aorai trimming her +sheets and heading off shore, and he regretted that he was not on her. +She would get away at any rate, but as for the atoll--A sea breached +across, almost sweeping him off his feet, and he selected a tree. Then +he remembered the barometer and ran back to the house. He encountered +Captain Lynch on the same errand and together they went in. + +“Twenty-eight-twenty,” said the old mariner. “It's going to be fair hell +around here--what was that?” + +The air seemed filled with the rush of something. The house quivered and +vibrated, and they heard the thrumming of a mighty note of sound. The +windows rattled. Two panes crashed; a draught of wind tore in, striking +them and making them stagger. The door opposite banged shut, shattering +the latch. The white door knob crumbled in fragments to the floor. +The room's walls bulged like a gas balloon in the process of sudden +inflation. Then came a new sound like the rattle of musketry, as the +spray from a sea struck the wall of the house. Captain Lynch looked +at his watch. It was four o'clock. He put on a coat of pilot cloth, +unhooked the barometer, and stowed it away in a capacious pocket. +Again a sea struck the house, with a heavy thud, and the light building +tilted, twisted, quarter around on its foundation, and sank down, its +floor at an angle of ten degrees. + +Raoul went out first. The wind caught him and whirled him away. He noted +that it had hauled around to the east. With a great effort he threw +himself on the sand, crouching and holding his own. Captain Lynch, +driven like a wisp of straw, sprawled over him. Two of the Aorai's +sailors, leaving a cocoanut tree to which they had been clinging, came +to their aid, leaning against the wind at impossible angles and fighting +and clawing every inch of the way. + +The old man's joints were stiff and he could not climb, so the sailors, +by means of short ends of rope tied together, hoisted him up the trunk, +a few feet at a time, till they could make him fast, at the top of the +tree, fifty feet from the ground. Raoul passed his length of rope +around the base of an adjacent tree and stood looking on. The wind was +frightful. He had never dreamed it could blow so hard. A sea breached +across the atoll, wetting him to the knees ere it subsided into the +lagoon. The sun had disappeared, and a lead-colored twilight settled +down. A few drops of rain, driving horizontally, struck him. The impact +was like that of leaden pellets. A splash of salt spray struck his face. +It was like the slap of a man's hand. His cheeks stung, and involuntary +tears of pain were in his smarting eyes. Several hundred natives had +taken to the trees, and he could have laughed at the bunches of human +fruit clustering in the tops. Then, being Tahitian-born, he doubled his +body at the waist, clasped the trunk of his tree with his hands, pressed +the soles of his feet against the near surface of the trunk, and began +to walk up the tree. At the top he found two women, two children, and a +man. One little girl clasped a housecat in her arms. + +From his eyrie he waved his hand to Captain Lynch, and that doughty +patriarch waved back. Raoul was appalled at the sky. It had approached +much nearer--in fact, it seemed just over his head; and it had turned +from lead to black. Many people were still on the ground grouped about +the bases of the trees and holding on. Several such clusters were +praying, and in one the Mormon missionary was exhorting. A weird sound, +rhythmical, faint as the faintest chirp of a far cricket, enduring but +for a moment, but in the moment suggesting to him vaguely the thought +of heaven and celestial music, came to his ear. He glanced about him and +saw, at the base of another tree, a large cluster of people holding on +by ropes and by one another. He could see their faces working and their +lips moving in unison. No sound came to him, but he knew that they were +singing hymns. + +Still the wind continued to blow harder. By no conscious process could +he measure it, for it had long since passed beyond all his experience of +wind; but he knew somehow, nevertheless, that it was blowing harder. Not +far away a tree was uprooted, flinging its load of human beings to +the ground. A sea washed across the strip of sand, and they were gone. +Things were happening quickly. He saw a brown shoulder and a black head +silhouetted against the churning white of the lagoon. The next +instant that, too, had vanished. Other trees were going, falling and +criss-crossing like matches. He was amazed at the power of the wind. His +own tree was swaying perilously, one woman was wailing and clutching the +little girl, who in turn still hung on to the cat. + +The man, holding the other child, touched Raoul's arm and pointed. He +looked and saw the Mormon church careering drunkenly a hundred feet +away. It had been torn from its foundations, and wind and sea were +heaving and shoving it toward the lagoon. A frightful wall of water +caught it, tilted it, and flung it against half a dozen cocoanut trees. +The bunches of human fruit fell like ripe cocoanuts. The subsiding wave +showed them on the ground, some lying motionless, others squirming and +writhing. They reminded him strangely of ants. He was not shocked. +He had risen above horror. Quite as a matter of course he noted the +succeeding wave sweep the sand clean of the human wreckage. A third +wave, more colossal than any he had yet seen, hurled the church into +the lagoon, where it floated off into the obscurity to leeward, +half-submerged, reminding him for all the world of a Noah's ark. + +He looked for Captain Lynch's house, and was surprised to find it gone. +Things certainly were happening quickly. He noticed that many of the +people in the trees that still held had descended to the ground. The +wind had yet again increased. His own tree showed that. It no longer +swayed or bent over and back. Instead, it remained practically +stationary, curved in a rigid angle from the wind and merely vibrating. +But the vibration was sickening. It was like that of a tuning-fork or +the tongue of a jew's-harp. It was the rapidity of the vibration that +made it so bad. Even though its roots held, it could not stand the +strain for long. Something would have to break. + +Ah, there was one that had gone. He had not seen it go, but there it +stood, the remnant, broken off half-way up the trunk. One did not know +what happened unless he saw it. The mere crashing of trees and wails +of human despair occupied no place in that mighty volume of sound. He +chanced to be looking in Captain Lynch's direction when it happened. He +saw the trunk of the tree, half-way up, splinter and part without +noise. The head of the tree, with three sailors of the Aorai and the old +captain sailed off over the lagoon. It did not fall to the ground, but +drove through the air like a piece of chaff. For a hundred yards he +followed its flight, when it struck the water. He strained his eyes, and +was sure that he saw Captain Lynch wave farewell. + +Raoul did not wait for anything more. He touched the native and made +signs to descend to the ground. The man was willing, but his women were +paralyzed from terror, and he elected to remain with them. Raoul passed +his rope around the tree and slid down. A rush of salt water went over +his head. He held his breath and clung desperately to the rope. The +water subsided, and in the shelter of the trunk he breathed once more. +He fastened the rope more securely, and then was put under by another +sea. One of the women slid down and joined him, the native remaining by +the other woman, the two children, and the cat. + +The supercargo had noticed how the groups clinging at the bases of the +other trees continually diminished. Now he saw the process work out +alongside him. It required all his strength to hold on, and the woman +who had joined him was growing weaker. Each time he emerged from a sea +he was surprised to find himself still there, and next, surprised to +find the woman still there. At last he emerged to find himself alone. +He looked up. The top of the tree had gone as well. At half its original +height, a splintered end vibrated. He was safe. The roots still held, +while the tree had been shorn of its windage. He began to climb up. He +was so weak that he went slowly, and sea after sea caught him before he +was above them. Then he tied himself to the trunk and stiffened his soul +to face the night and he knew not what. + +He felt very lonely in the darkness. At times it seemed to him that it +was the end of the world and that he was the last one left alive. Still +the wind increased. Hour after hour it increased. By what he calculated +was eleven o'clock, the wind had become unbelievable. It was a horrible, +monstrous thing, a screaming fury, a wall that smote and passed on but +that continued to smite and pass on--a wall without end. It seemed to +him that he had become light and ethereal; that it was he that was in +motion; that he was being driven with inconceivable velocity through +unending solidness. The wind was no longer air in motion. It had become +substantial as water or quicksilver. He had a feeling that he could +reach into it and tear it out in chunks as one might do with the meat in +the carcass of a steer; that he could seize hold of the wind and hang on +to it as a man might hang on to the face of a cliff. + +The wind strangled him. He could not face it and breathe, for it rushed +in through his mouth and nostrils, distending his lungs like bladders. +At such moments it seemed to him that his body was being packed and +swollen with solid earth. Only by pressing his lips to the trunk of the +tree could he breathe. Also, the ceaseless impact of the wind exhausted +him. Body and brain became wearied. He no longer observed, no +longer thought, and was but semiconscious. One idea constituted +his consciousness: SO THIS WAS A HURRICANE. That one idea persisted +irregularly. It was like a feeble flame that flickered occasionally. +From a state of stupor he would return to it--SO THIS WAS A HURRICANE. +Then he would go off into another stupor. + +The height of the hurricane endured from eleven at night till three in +the morning, and it was at eleven that the tree in which clung Mapuhi +and his women snapped off. Mapuhi rose to the surface of the lagoon, +still clutching his daughter Ngakura. Only a South Sea islander could +have lived in such a driving smother. The pandanus tree, to which he +attached himself, turned over and over in the froth and churn; and it +was only by holding on at times and waiting, and at other times shifting +his grips rapidly, that he was able to get his head and Ngakura's to the +surface at intervals sufficiently near together to keep the breath in +them. But the air was mostly water, what with flying spray and sheeted +rain that poured along at right angles to the perpendicular. + +It was ten miles across the lagoon to the farther ring of sand. Here, +tossing tree trunks, timbers, wrecks of cutters, and wreckage of houses, +killed nine out of ten of the miserable beings who survived the passage +of the lagoon. Half-drowned, exhausted, they were hurled into this mad +mortar of the elements and battered into formless flesh. But Mapuhi was +fortunate. His chance was the one in ten; it fell to him by the freakage +of fate. He emerged upon the sand, bleeding from a score of wounds. + +Ngakura's left arm was broken; the fingers of her right hand were +crushed; and cheek and forehead were laid open to the bone. He clutched +a tree that yet stood, and clung on, holding the girl and sobbing for +air, while the waters of the lagoon washed by knee-high and at times +waist-high. + +At three in the morning the backbone of the hurricane broke. By five no +more than a stiff breeze was blowing. And by six it was dead calm and +the sun was shining. The sea had gone down. On the yet restless edge of +the lagoon, Mapuhi saw the broken bodies of those that had failed in the +landing. Undoubtedly Tefara and Nauri were among them. He went along the +beach examining them, and came upon his wife, lying half in and half out +of the water. He sat down and wept, making harsh animal noises after the +manner of primitive grief. Then she stirred uneasily, and groaned. He +looked more closely. Not only was she alive, but she was uninjured. She +was merely sleeping. Hers also had been the one chance in ten. + +Of the twelve hundred alive the night before but three hundred remained. +The Mormon missionary and a gendarme made the census. The lagoon was +cluttered with corpses. Not a house nor a hut was standing. In the whole +atoll not two stones remained one upon another. One in fifty of the +cocoanut palms still stood, and they were wrecks, while on not one of +them remained a single nut. + +There was no fresh water. The shallow wells that caught the surface +seepage of the rain were filled with salt. Out of the lagoon a few +soaked bags of flour were recovered. The survivors cut the hearts out of +the fallen cocoanut trees and ate them. Here and there they crawled +into tiny hutches, made by hollowing out the sand and covering over with +fragments of metal roofing. The missionary made a crude still, but he +could not distill water for three hundred persons. By the end of the +second day, Raoul, taking a bath in the lagoon, discovered that his +thirst was somewhat relieved. He cried out the news, and thereupon three +hundred men, women, and children could have been seen, standing up to +their necks in the lagoon and trying to drink water in through their +skins. Their dead floated about them, or were stepped upon where they +still lay upon the bottom. On the third day the people buried their dead +and sat down to wait for the rescue steamers. + +In the meantime, Nauri, torn from her family by the hurricane, had been +swept away on an adventure of her own. Clinging to a rough plank that +wounded and bruised her and that filled her body with splinters, she +was thrown clear over the atoll and carried away to sea. Here, under the +amazing buffets of mountains of water, she lost her plank. She was an +old woman nearly sixty; but she was Paumotan-born, and she had never +been out of sight of the sea in her life. Swimming in the darkness, +strangling, suffocating, fighting for air, she was struck a heavy blow +on the shoulder by a cocoanut. On the instant her plan was formed, +and she seized the nut. In the next hour she captured seven more. Tied +together, they formed a life-buoy that preserved her life while at the +same time it threatened to pound her to a jelly. She was a fat woman, +and she bruised easily; but she had had experience of hurricanes, and +while she prayed to her shark god for protection from sharks, she waited +for the wind to break. But at three o'clock she was in such a stupor +that she did not know. Nor did she know at six o'clock when the dead +calm settled down. She was shocked into consciousness when she was +thrown upon the sand. She dug in with raw and bleeding hands and feet +and clawed against the backwash until she was beyond the reach of the +waves. + +She knew where she was. This land could be no other than the tiny islet +of Takokota. It had no lagoon. No one lived upon it. + +Hikueru was fifteen miles away. She could not see Hikueru, but she +knew that it lay to the south. The days went by, and she lived on the +cocoanuts that had kept her afloat. They supplied her with drinking +water and with food. But she did not drink all she wanted, nor eat all +she wanted. Rescue was problematical. She saw the smoke of the rescue +steamers on the horizon, but what steamer could be expected to come to +lonely, uninhabited Takokota? + +From the first she was tormented by corpses. The sea persisted in +flinging them upon her bit of sand, and she persisted, until her +strength failed, in thrusting them back into the sea where the sharks +tore at them and devoured them. When her strength failed, the bodies +festooned her beach with ghastly horror, and she withdrew from them as +far as she could, which was not far. + +By the tenth day her last cocoanut was gone, and she was shrivelling +from thirst. She dragged herself along the sand, looking for cocoanuts. +It was strange that so many bodies floated up, and no nuts. Surely, +there were more cocoanuts afloat than dead men! She gave up at last, and +lay exhausted. The end had come. Nothing remained but to wait for death. + +Coming out of a stupor, she became slowly aware that she was gazing at a +patch of sandy-red hair on the head of a corpse. The sea flung the body +toward her, then drew it back. It turned over, and she saw that it had +no face. Yet there was something familiar about that patch of +sandy-red hair. An hour passed. She did not exert herself to make the +identification. She was waiting to die, and it mattered little to her +what man that thing of horror once might have been. + +But at the end of the hour she sat up slowly and stared at the corpse. +An unusually large wave had thrown it beyond the reach of the lesser +waves. Yes, she was right; that patch of red hair could belong to but +one man in the Paumotus. It was Levy, the German Jew, the man who had +bought the pearl and carried it away on the Hira. Well, one thing was +evident: The Hira had been lost. The pearl buyer's god of fishermen and +thieves had gone back on him. + +She crawled down to the dead man. His shirt had been torn away, and she +could see the leather money belt about his waist. She held her breath +and tugged at the buckles. They gave easier than she had expected, and +she crawled hurriedly away across the sand, dragging the belt after her. +Pocket after pocket she unbuckled in the belt and found empty. Where +could he have put it? In the last pocket of all she found it, the first +and only pearl he had bought on the voyage. She crawled a few feet +farther, to escape the pestilence of the belt, and examined the pearl. +It was the one Mapuhi had found and been robbed of by Toriki. She +weighed it in her hand and rolled it back and forth caressingly. But in +it she saw no intrinsic beauty. What she did see was the house Mapuhi +and Tefara and she had builded so carefully in their minds. Each time +she looked at the pearl she saw the house in all its details, including +the octagon-drop-clock on the wall. That was something to live for. + +She tore a strip from her ahu and tied the pearl securely about her +neck. Then she went on along the beach, panting and groaning, but +resolutely seeking for cocoanuts. Quickly she found one, and, as she +glanced around, a second. She broke one, drinking its water, which was +mildewy, and eating the last particle of the meat. A little later she +found a shattered dugout. Its outrigger was gone, but she was hopeful, +and, before the day was out, she found the outrigger. Every find was an +augury. The pearl was a talisman. Late in the afternoon she saw a wooden +box floating low in the water. When she dragged it out on the beach its +contents rattled, and inside she found ten tins of salmon. She opened +one by hammering it on the canoe. When a leak was started, she drained +the tin. After that she spent several hours in extracting the salmon, +hammering and squeezing it out a morsel at a time. + +Eight days longer she waited for rescue. In the meantime she fastened +the outrigger back on the canoe, using for lashings all the cocoanut +fibre she could find, and also what remained of her ahu. The canoe was +badly cracked, and she could not make it water-tight; but a calabash +made from a cocoanut she stored on board for a bailer. She was hard put +for a paddle. With a piece of tin she sawed off all her hair close to +the scalp. Out of the hair she braided a cord; and by means of the cord +she lashed a three-foot piece of broom handle to a board from the salmon +case. + +She gnawed wedges with her teeth and with them wedged the lashing. + +On the eighteenth day, at midnight, she launched the canoe through the +surf and started back for Hikueru. She was an old woman. Hardship had +stripped her fat from her till scarcely more than bones and skin and a +few stringy muscles remained. The canoe was large and should have been +paddled by three strong men. + +But she did it alone, with a make-shift paddle. Also, the canoe leaked +badly, and one-third of her time was devoted to bailing. By clear +daylight she looked vainly for Hikueru. Astern, Takokota had sunk +beneath the sea rim. The sun blazed down on her nakedness, compelling +her body to surrender its moisture. Two tins of salmon were left, and in +the course of the day she battered holes in them and drained the liquid. +She had no time to waste in extracting the meat. A current was setting +to the westward, she made westing whether she made southing or not. + +In the early afternoon, standing upright in the canoe, she sighted +Hikueru. Its wealth of cocoanut palms was gone. Only here and there, at +wide intervals, could she see the ragged remnants of trees. The sight +cheered her. She was nearer than she had thought. The current was +setting her to the westward. She bore up against it and paddled on. The +wedges in the paddle lashing worked loose, and she lost much time, at +frequent intervals, in driving them tight. Then there was the bailing. +One hour in three she had to cease paddling in order to bail. And all +the time she drifted to the westward. + +By sunset Hikueru bore southeast from her, three miles away. There was +a full moon, and by eight o'clock the land was due east and two miles +away. She struggled on for another hour, but the land was as far away as +ever. She was in the main grip of the current; the canoe was too large; +the paddle was too inadequate; and too much of her time and strength +was wasted in bailing. Besides, she was very weak and growing weaker. +Despite her efforts, the canoe was drifting off to the westward. + +She breathed a prayer to her shark god, slipped over the side, and began +to swim. She was actually refreshed by the water, and quickly left the +canoe astern. At the end of an hour the land was perceptibly nearer. +Then came her fright. Right before her eyes, not twenty feet away, a +large fin cut the water. She swam steadily toward it, and slowly it +glided away, curving off toward the right and circling around her. She +kept her eyes on the fin and swam on. When the fin disappeared, she +lay face downward in the water and watched. When the fin reappeared she +resumed her swimming. The monster was lazy--she could see that. Without +doubt he had been well fed since the hurricane. Had he been very hungry, +she knew he would not have hesitated from making a dash for her. He was +fifteen feet long, and one bite, she knew, could cut her in half. + +But she did not have any time to waste on him. Whether she swam or not, +the current drew away from the land just the same. A half hour went +by, and the shark began to grow bolder. Seeing no harm in her he drew +closer, in narrowing circles, cocking his eyes at her impudently as +he slid past. Sooner or later, she knew well enough, he would get up +sufficient courage to dash at her. She resolved to play first. It was a +desperate act she meditated. She was an old woman, alone in the sea and +weak from starvation and hardship; and yet she, in the face of this sea +tiger, must anticipate his dash by herself dashing at him. She swam on, +waiting her chance. At last he passed languidly by, barely eight feet +away. She rushed at him suddenly, feigning that she was attacking him. +He gave a wild flirt of his tail as he fled away, and his sandpaper +hide, striking her, took off her skin from elbow to shoulder. He swam +rapidly, in a widening circle, and at last disappeared. + +In the hole in the sand, covered over by fragments of metal roofing, +Mapuhi and Tefara lay disputing. + +“If you had done as I said,” charged Tefara, for the thousandth time, +“and hidden the pearl and told no one, you would have it now.” + +“But Huru-Huru was with me when I opened the shell--have I not told you +so times and times and times without end?” + +“And now we shall have no house. Raoul told me today that if you had not +sold the pearl to Toriki--” + +“I did not sell it. Toriki robbed me.” + +“--that if you had not sold the pearl, he would give you five thousand +French dollars, which is ten thousand Chili.” + +“He has been talking to his mother,” Mapuhi explained. “She has an eye +for a pearl.” + +“And now the pearl is lost,” Tefara complained. + +“It paid my debt with Toriki. That is twelve hundred I have made, +anyway.” + +“Toriki is dead,” she cried. “They have heard no word of his schooner. +She was lost along with the Aorai and the Hira. Will Toriki pay you the +three hundred credit he promised? No, because Toriki is dead. And had +you found no pearl, would you today owe Toriki the twelve hundred? No, +because Toriki is dead, and you cannot pay dead men.” + +“But Levy did not pay Toriki,” Mapuhi said. “He gave him a piece of +paper that was good for the money in Papeete; and now Levy is dead and +cannot pay; and Toriki is dead and the paper lost with him, and the +pearl is lost with Levy. You are right, Tefara. I have lost the pearl, +and got nothing for it. Now let us sleep.” + +He held up his hand suddenly and listened. From without came a noise, +as of one who breathed heavily and with pain. A hand fumbled against the +mat that served for a door. + +“Who is there?” Mapuhi cried. + +“Nauri,” came the answer. “Can you tell me where is my son, Mapuhi?” + +Tefara screamed and gripped her husband's arm. + +“A ghost!” she chattered. “A ghost!” + +Mapuhi's face was a ghastly yellow. He clung weakly to his wife. + +“Good woman,” he said in faltering tones, striving to disguise his vice, +“I know your son well. He is living on the east side of the lagoon.” + +From without came the sound of a sigh. Mapuhi began to feel elated. He +had fooled the ghost. + +“But where do you come from, old woman?” he asked. + +“From the sea,” was the dejected answer. + +“I knew it! I knew it!” screamed Tefara, rocking to and fro. + +“Since when has Tefara bedded in a strange house?” came Nauri's voice +through the matting. + +Mapuhi looked fear and reproach at his wife. It was her voice that had +betrayed them. + +“And since when has Mapuhi, my son, denied his old mother?” the voice +went on. + +“No, no, I have not--Mapuhi has not denied you,” he cried. “I am not +Mapuhi. He is on the east end of the lagoon, I tell you.” + +Ngakura sat up in bed and began to cry. The matting started to shake. + +“What are you doing?” Mapuhi demanded. + +“I am coming in,” said the voice of Nauri. + +One end of the matting lifted. Tefara tried to dive under the blankets, +but Mapuhi held on to her. He had to hold on to something. Together, +struggling with each other, with shivering bodies and chattering teeth, +they gazed with protruding eyes at the lifting mat. They saw Nauri, +dripping with sea water, without her ahu, creep in. They rolled over +backward from her and fought for Ngakura's blanket with which to cover +their heads. + +“You might give your old mother a drink of water,” the ghost said +plaintively. + +“Give her a drink of water,” Tefara commanded in a shaking voice. + +“Give her a drink of water,” Mapuhi passed on the command to Ngakura. + +And together they kicked out Ngakura from under the blanket. A minute +later, peeping, Mapuhi saw the ghost drinking. When it reached out +a shaking hand and laid it on his, he felt the weight of it and was +convinced that it was no ghost. Then he emerged, dragging Tefara after +him, and in a few minutes all were listening to Nauri's tale. And when +she told of Levy, and dropped the pearl into Tefara's hand, even she was +reconciled to the reality of her mother-in-law. + +“In the morning,” said Tefara, “you will sell the pearl to Raoul for +five thousand French.” + +“The house?” objected Nauri. + +“He will build the house,” Tefara answered. “He ways it will cost four +thousand French. Also will he give one thousand French in credit, which +is two thousand Chili.” + +“And it will be six fathoms long?” Nauri queried. + +“Ay,” answered Mapuhi, “six fathoms.” + +“And in the middle room will be the octagon-drop-clock?” + +“Ay, and the round table as well.” + +“Then give me something to eat, for I am hungry,” said Nauri, +complacently. “And after that we will sleep, for I am weary. And +tomorrow we will have more talk about the house before we sell the +pearl. It will be better if we take the thousand French in cash. Money +is ever better than credit in buying goods from the traders.” + + + + +THE WHALE TOOTH + +It was in the early days in Fiji, when John Starhurst arose in the +mission house at Rewa Village and announced his intention of carrying +the gospel throughout all Viti Levu. Now Viti Levu means the “Great +Land,” it being the largest island in a group composed of many large +islands, to say nothing of hundreds of small ones. Here and there on +the coasts, living by most precarious tenure, was a sprinkling of +missionaries, traders, bêche-de-mer fishers, and whaleship deserters. +The smoke of the hot ovens arose under their windows, and the bodies of +the slain were dragged by their doors on the way to the feasting. + +The Lotu, or the Worship, was progressing slowly, and, often, in +crablike fashion. Chiefs, who announced themselves Christians and +were welcomed into the body of the chapel, had a distressing habit of +backsliding in order to partake of the flesh of some favorite enemy. Eat +or be eaten had been the law of the land; and eat or be eaten promised +to remain the law of the land for a long time to come. There were +chiefs, such as Tanoa, Tuiveikoso, and Tuikilakila, who had literally +eaten hundreds of their fellow men. But among these gluttons Ra +Undreundre ranked highest. Ra Undreundre lived at Takiraki. He kept a +register of his gustatory exploits. A row of stones outside his house +marked the bodies he had eaten. This row was two hundred and thirty +paces long, and the stones in it numbered eight hundred and seventy-two. +Each stone represented a body. The row of stones might have been longer, +had not Ra Undreundre unfortunately received a spear in the small of his +back in a bush skirmish on Somo Somo and been served up on the table of +Naungavuli, whose mediocre string of stones numbered only forty-eight. + +The hard-worked, fever-stricken missionaries stuck doggedly to their +task, at times despairing, and looking forward for some special +manifestation, some outburst of Pentecostal fire that would bring a +glorious harvest of souls. But cannibal Fiji had remained obdurate. The +frizzle-headed man-eaters were loath to leave their fleshpots so long as +the harvest of human carcases was plentiful. Sometimes, when the harvest +was too plentiful, they imposed on the missionaries by letting the word +slip out that on such a day there would be a killing and a barbecue. +Promptly the missionaries would buy the lives of the victims with stick +tobacco, fathoms of calico, and quarts of trade beads. Natheless the +chiefs drove a handsome trade in thus disposing of their surplus live +meat. Also, they could always go out and catch more. + +It was at this juncture that John Starhurst proclaimed that he would +carry the Gospel from coast to coast of the Great Land, and that he +would begin by penetrating the mountain fastnesses of the headwaters of +the Rewa River. His words were received with consternation. + +The native teachers wept softly. His two fellow missionaries strove to +dissuade him. The King of Rewa warned him that the mountain dwellers +would surely kai-kai him--kai-kai meaning “to eat”--and that he, the +King of Rewa, having become Lotu, would be put to the necessity of going +to war with the mountain dwellers. That he could not conquer them he +was perfectly aware. That they might come down the river and sack Rewa +Village he was likewise perfectly aware. But what was he to do? If John +Starhurst persisted in going out and being eaten, there would be a war +that would cost hundreds of lives. + +Later in the day a deputation of Rewa chiefs waited upon John Starhurst. +He heard them patiently, and argued patiently with them, though he +abated not a whit from his purpose. To his fellow missionaries he +explained that he was not bent upon martyrdom; that the call had come +for him to carry the Gospel into Viti Levu, and that he was merely +obeying the Lord's wish. + +To the traders who came and objected most strenuously of all, he said: +“Your objections are valueless. They consist merely of the damage that +may be done your businesses. You are interested in making money, but +I am interested in saving souls. The heathen of this dark land must be +saved.” + +John Starhurst was not a fanatic. He would have been the first man to +deny the imputation. He was eminently sane and practical. + +He was sure that his mission would result in good, and he had +private visions of igniting the Pentecostal spark in the souls of the +mountaineers and of inaugurating a revival that would sweep down out of +the mountains and across the length and breadth of the Great Land from +sea to sea and to the isles in the midst of the sea. There were no +wild lights in his mild gray eyes, but only calm resolution and an +unfaltering trust in the Higher Power that was guiding him. + +One man only he found who approved of his project, and that was Ra Vatu, +who secretly encouraged him and offered to lend him guides to the first +foothills. John Starhurst, in turn, was greatly pleased by Ra Vatu's +conduct. From an incorrigible heathen, with a heart as black as his +practices, Ra Vatu was beginning to emanate light. He even spoke of +becoming Lotu. True, three years before he had expressed a similar +intention, and would have entered the church had not John Starhurst +entered objection to his bringing his four wives along with him. Ra +Vatu had had economic and ethical objections to monogamy. Besides, the +missionary's hair-splitting objection had offended him; and, to prove +that he was a free agent and a man of honor, he had swung his huge war +club over Starhurst's head. Starhurst had escaped by rushing in under +the club and holding on to him until help arrived. But all that was now +forgiven and forgotten. Ra Vatu was coming into the church, not merely +as a converted heathen, but as a converted polygamist as well. He was +only waiting, he assured Starhurst, until his oldest wife, who was very +sick, should die. + +John Starhurst journeyed up the sluggish Rewa in one of Ra Vatu's +canoes. This canoe was to carry him for two days, when, the head of +navigation reached, it would return. Far in the distance, lifted +into the sky, could be seen the great smoky mountains that marked the +backbone of the Great Land. All day John Starhurst gazed at them with +eager yearning. + +Sometimes he prayed silently. At other times he was joined in prayer by +Narau, a native teacher, who for seven years had been Lotu, ever since +the day he had been saved from the hot oven by Dr. James Ellery Brown +at the trifling expense of one hundred sticks of tobacco, two cotton +blankets, and a large bottle of painkiller. At the last moment, after +twenty hours of solitary supplication and prayer, Narau's ears had +heard the call to go forth with John Starhurst on the mission to the +mountains. + +“Master, I will surely go with thee,” he had announced. + +John Starhurst had hailed him with sober delight. Truly, the Lord was +with him thus to spur on so broken-spirited a creature as Narau. + +“I am indeed without spirit, the weakest of the Lord's vessels,” Narau +explained, the first day in the canoe. + +“You should have faith, stronger faith,” the missionary chided him. + +Another canoe journeyed up the Rewa that day. But it journeyed an +hour astern, and it took care not to be seen. This canoe was also the +property of Ra Vatu. In it was Erirola, Ra Vatu's first cousin and +trusted henchman; and in the small basket that never left his hand was +a whale tooth. It was a magnificent tooth, fully six inches long, +beautifully proportioned, the ivory turned yellow and purple with age. +This tooth was likewise the property of Ra Vatu; and in Fiji, when such +a tooth goes forth, things usually happen. For this is the virtue of +the whale tooth: Whoever accepts it cannot refuse the request that may +accompany it or follow it. The request may be anything from a human life +to a tribal alliance, and no Fijian is so dead to honor as to deny the +request when once the tooth has been accepted. Sometimes the request +hangs fire, or the fulfilment is delayed, with untoward consequences. + +High up the Rewa, at the village of a chief, Mongondro by name, John +Starhurst rested at the end of the second day of the journey. In the +morning, attended by Narau, he expected to start on foot for the smoky +mountains that were now green and velvety with nearness. Mongondro was +a sweet-tempered, mild-mannered little old chief, short-sighted +and afflicted with elephantiasis, and no longer inclined toward the +turbulence of war. He received the missionary with warm hospitality, +gave him food from his own table, and even discussed religious matters +with him. Mongondro was of an inquiring bent of mind, and pleased +John Starhurst greatly by asking him to account for the existence and +beginning of things. When the missionary had finished his summary of +the Creation according to Genesis, he saw that Mongondro was deeply +affected. The little old chief smoked silently for some time. Then he +took the pipe from his mouth and shook his head sadly. + +“It cannot be,” he said. “I, Mongondro, in my youth, was a good workman +with the adze. Yet three months did it take me to make a canoe--a small +canoe, a very small canoe. And you say that all this land and water was +made by one man--” + +“Nay, was made by one God, the only true God,” the missionary +interrupted. + +“It is the same thing,” Mongondro went on, “that all the land and all +the water, the trees, the fish, and bush and mountains, the sun, the +moon, and the stars, were made in six days! No, no. I tell you that in +my youth I was an able man, yet did it require me three months for one +small canoe. It is a story to frighten children with; but no man can +believe it.” + +“I am a man,” the missionary said. + +“True, you are a man. But it is not given to my dark understanding to +know what you believe.” + +“I tell you, I do believe that everything was made in six days.” + +“So you say, so you say,” the old cannibal murmured soothingly. + +It was not until after John Starhurst and Narau had gone off to bed +that Erirola crept into the chief's house, and, after diplomatic speech, +handed the whale tooth to Mongondro. + +The old chief held the tooth in his hands for a long time. It was a +beautiful tooth, and he yearned for it. Also, he divined the request +that must accompany it. “No, no; whale teeth were beautiful,” and +his mouth watered for it, but he passed it back to Erirola with many +apologies. + + ***** + +In the early dawn John Starhurst was afoot, striding along the bush +trail in his big leather boots, at his heels the faithful Narau, himself +at the heels of a naked guide lent him by Mongondro to show the way to +the next village, which was reached by midday. Here a new guide showed +the way. A mile in the rear plodded Erirola, the whale tooth in the +basket slung on his shoulder. For two days more he brought up the +missionary's rear, offering the tooth to the village chiefs. But village +after village refused the tooth. It followed so quickly the missionary's +advent that they divined the request that would be made, and would have +none of it. + +They were getting deep into the mountains, and Erirola took a secret +trail, cut in ahead of the missionary, and reached the stronghold of the +Buli of Gatoka. Now the Buli was unaware of John Starhurst's imminent +arrival. Also, the tooth was beautiful--an extraordinary specimen, while +the coloring of it was of the rarest order. The tooth was presented +publicly. The Buli of Gatoka, seated on his best mat, surrounded by his +chief men, three busy fly-brushers at his back, deigned to receive from +the hand of his herald the whale tooth presented by Ra Vatu and carried +into the mountains by his cousin, Erirola. A clapping of hands went up +at the acceptance of the present, the assembled headman, heralds, and +fly-brushers crying aloud in chorus: + +“A! woi! woi! woi! A! woi! woi! woi! A tabua levu! woi! woi! A mudua, +mudua, mudua!' + +“Soon will come a man, a white man,” Erirola began, after the proper +pause. “He is a missionary man, and he will come today. Ra Vatu is +pleased to desire his boots. He wishes to present them to his good +friend, Mongondro, and it is in his mind to send them with the feet +along in them, for Mongondro is an old man and his teeth are not good. +Be sure, O Buli, that the feet go along in the boots. As for the rest of +him, it may stop here.” + +The delight in the whale tooth faded out of the Buli's eyes, and he +glanced about him dubiously. Yet had he already accepted the tooth. + +“A little thing like a missionary does not matter,” Erirola prompted. + +“No, a little thing like a missionary does not matter,” the Buli +answered, himself again. “Mongondro shall have the boots. Go, you young +men, some three or four of you, and meet the missionary on the trail. Be +sure you bring back the boots as well.” + +“It is too late,” said Erirola. “Listen! He comes now.” + +Breaking through the thicket of brush, John Starhurst, with Narau close +on his heels, strode upon the scene. The famous boots, having filled in +wading the stream, squirted fine jets of water at every step. Starhurst +looked about him with flashing eyes. Upborne by an unwavering trust, +untouched by doubt or fear, he exulted in all he saw. He knew that +since the beginning of time he was the first white man ever to tread the +mountain stronghold of Gatoka. + +The grass houses clung to the steep mountain side or overhung the +rushing Rewa. On either side towered a mighty precipice. At the best, +three hours of sunlight penetrated that narrow gorge. No cocoanuts +nor bananas were to be seen, though dense, tropic vegetation overran +everything, dripping in airy festoons from the sheer lips of the +precipices and running riot in all the crannied ledges. At the far end +of the gorge the Rewa leaped eight hundred feet in a single span, while +the atmosphere of the rock fortress pulsed to the rhythmic thunder of +the fall. + +From the Buli's house, John Starhurst saw emerging the Buli and his +followers. + +“I bring you good tidings,” was the missionary's greeting. + +“Who has sent you?” the Buli rejoined quietly. + +“God.” + +“It is a new name in Viti Levu,” the Buli grinned. “Of what islands, +villages, or passes may he be chief?” + +“He is the chief over all islands, all villages, all passes,” John +Starhurst answered solemnly. “He is the Lord over heaven and earth, and +I am come to bring His word to you.” + +“Has he sent whale teeth?” was the insolent query. + +“No, but more precious than whale teeth is the--” + +“It is the custom, between chiefs, to send whale teeth,” the Buli +interrupted. + +“Your chief is either a niggard, or you are a fool, to come empty-handed +into the mountains. Behold, a more generous than you is before you.” + +So saying, he showed the whale tooth he had received from Erirola. + +Narau groaned. + +“It is the whale tooth of Ra Vatu,” he whispered to Starhurst. “I know +it well. Now are we undone.” + +“A gracious thing,” the missionary answered, passing his hand through +his long beard and adjusting his glasses. “Ra Vatu has arranged that we +should be well received.” + +But Narau groaned again, and backed away from the heels he had dogged so +faithfully. + +“Ra Vatu is soon to become Lotu,” Starhurst explained, “and I have come +bringing the Lotu to you.” + +“I want none of your Lotu,” said the Buli, proudly. “And it is in my +mind that you will be clubbed this day.” + +The Buli nodded to one of his big mountaineers, who stepped forward, +swinging a club. Narau bolted into the nearest house, seeking to hide +among the woman and mats; but John Starhurst sprang in under the club +and threw his arms around his executioner's neck. From this point of +vantage he proceeded to argue. He was arguing for his life, and he knew +it; but he was neither excited nor afraid. + +“It would be an evil thing for you to kill me,” he told the man. “I have +done you no wrong, nor have I done the Buli wrong.” + +So well did he cling to the neck of the one man that they dared not +strike with their clubs. And he continued to cling and to dispute for +his life with those who clamored for his death. + +“I am John Starhurst,” he went on calmly. “I have labored in Fiji for +three years, and I have done it for no profit. I am here among you for +good. Why should any man kill me? To kill me will not profit any man.” + +The Buli stole a look at the whale tooth. He was well paid for the deed. + +The missionary was surrounded by a mass of naked savages, all struggling +to get at him. The death song, which is the song of the oven, was +raised, and his expostulations could no longer be heard. But so +cunningly did he twine and wreathe his body about his captor's that the +death blow could not be struck. Erirola smiled, and the Buli grew angry. + +“Away with you!” he cried. “A nice story to go back to the coast--a +dozen of you and one missionary, without weapons, weak as a woman, +overcoming all of you.” + +“Wait, O Buli,” John Starhurst called out from the thick of the scuffle, +“and I will overcome even you. For my weapons are Truth and Right, and +no man can withstand them.” + +“Come to me, then,” the Buli answered, “for my weapon is only a poor +miserable club, and, as you say, it cannot withstand you.” + +The group separated from him, and John Starhurst stood alone, facing the +Buli, who was leaning on an enormous, knotted warclub. + +“Come to me, missionary man, and overcome me,” the Buli challenged. + +“Even so will I come to you and overcome you,” John Starhurst made +answer, first wiping his spectacles and settling them properly, then +beginning his advance. + +The Buli raised the club and waited. + +“In the first place, my death will profit you nothing,” began the +argument. + +“I leave the answer to my club,” was the Buli's reply. + +And to every point he made the same reply, at the same time watching the +missionary closely in order to forestall that cunning run-in under the +lifted club. Then, and for the first time, John Starhurst knew that his +death was at hand. He made no attempt to run in. Bareheaded, he stood in +the sun and prayed aloud--the mysterious figure of the inevitable white +man, who, with Bible, bullet, or rum bottle, has confronted the amazed +savage in his every stronghold. Even so stood John Starhurst in the rock +fortress of the Buli of Gatoka. + +“Forgive them, for they know not what they do,” he prayed. “O Lord! Have +mercy upon Fiji. Have compassion for Fiji. O Jehovah, hear us for His +sake, Thy Son, whom Thou didst give that through Him all men might also +become Thy children. From Thee we came, and our mind is that to Thee +we may return. The land is dark, O Lord, the land is dark. But Thou art +mighty to save. Reach out Thy hand, O Lord, and save Fiji, poor cannibal +Fiji.” + +The Buli grew impatient. + +“Now will I answer thee,” he muttered, at the same time swinging his +club with both hands. + +Narau, hiding among the women and the mats, heard the impact of the +blow and shuddered. Then the death song arose, and he knew his beloved +missionary's body was being dragged to the oven as he heard the words: + +“Drag me gently. Drag me gently.” + +“For I am the champion of my land.” + +“Give thanks! Give thanks! Give thanks!” + +Next, a single voice arose out of the din, asking: + +“Where is the brave man?” + +A hundred voices bellowed the answer: + +“Gone to be dragged into the oven and cooked.” + +“Where is the coward?” the single voice demanded. + +“Gone to report!” the hundred voices bellowed back. “Gone to report! +Gone to report!” + +Narau groaned in anguish of spirit. The words of the old song were true. +He was the coward, and nothing remained to him but to go and report. + + + + +MAUKI + +He weighed one hundred and ten pounds. His hair was kinky and negroid, +and he was black. He was peculiarly black. He was neither blue-black nor +purple-black, but plum-black. His name was Mauki, and he was the son +of a chief. He had three tambos. Tambo is Melanesian for taboo, and +is first cousin to that Polynesian word. Mauki's three tambos were +as follows: First, he must never shake hands with a woman, nor have a +woman's hand touch him or any of his personal belongings; secondly, he +must never eat clams nor any food from a fire in which clams had been +cooked; thirdly, he must never touch a crocodile, nor travel in a canoe +that carried any part of a crocodile even if as large as a tooth. + +Of a different black were his teeth, which were deep black, or, perhaps +better, LAMP-black. They had been made so in a single night, by his +mother, who had compressed about them a powdered mineral which was +dug from the landslide back of Port Adams. Port Adams is a salt-water +village on Malaita, and Malaita is the most savage island in the +Solomons--so savage that no traders or planters have yet gained a +foothold on it; while, from the time of the earliest bêche-de-mer +fishers and sandalwood traders down to the latest labor recruiters +equipped with automatic rifles and gasolene engines, scores of white +adventurers have been passed out by tomahawks and soft-nosed Snider +bullets. So Malaita remains today, in the twentieth century, the +stamping ground of the labor recruiters, who farm its coasts for +laborers who engage and contract themselves to toil on the plantations +of the neighboring and more civilized islands for a wage of thirty +dollars a year. The natives of those neighboring and more civilized +islands have themselves become too civilized to work on plantations. + +Mauki's ears were pierced, not in one place, nor two places, but in a +couple of dozen places. In one of the smaller holes he carried a clay +pipe. The larger holes were too large for such use. The bowl of the pipe +would have fallen through. In fact, in the largest hole in each ear +he habitually wore round wooden plugs that were an even four inches in +diameter. Roughly speaking, the circumference of said holes was twelve +and one-half inches. Mauki was catholic in his tastes. In the various +smaller holes he carried such things as empty rifle cartridges, +horseshoe nails, copper screws, pieces of string, braids of sennit, +strips of green leaf, and, in the cool of the day, scarlet hibiscus +flowers. From which it will be seen that pockets were not necessary to +his well-being. Besides, pockets were impossible, for his only wearing +apparel consisted of a piece of calico several inches wide. A pocket +knife he wore in his hair, the blade snapped down on a kinky lock. His +most prized possession was the handle of a china cup, which he suspended +from a ring of turtle-shell, which, in turn, was passed through the +partition-cartilage of his nose. + +But in spite of embellishments, Mauki had a nice face. It was really +a pretty face, viewed by any standard, and for a Melanesian it was a +remarkably good-looking face. Its one fault was its lack of strength. It +was softly effeminate, almost girlish. The features were small, regular, +and delicate. The chin was weak, and the mouth was weak. There was no +strength nor character in the jaws, forehead, and nose. In the eyes only +could be caught any hint of the unknown quantities that were so large a +part of his make-up and that other persons could not understand. These +unknown quantities were pluck, pertinacity, fearlessness, imagination, +and cunning; and when they found expression in some consistent and +striking action, those about him were astounded. + +Mauki's father was chief over the village at Port Adams, and thus, by +birth a salt-water man, Mauki was half amphibian. He knew the way of the +fishes and oysters, and the reef was an open book to him. Canoes, also, +he knew. He learned to swim when he was a year old. At seven years he +could hold his breath a full minute and swim straight down to bottom +through thirty feet of water. And at seven years he was stolen by +the bushmen, who cannot even swim and who are afraid of salt water. +Thereafter Mauki saw the sea only from a distance, through rifts in the +jungle and from open spaces on the high mountain sides. He became the +slave of old Fanfoa, head chief over a score of scattered bush-villages +on the range-lips of Malaita, the smoke of which, on calm mornings, +is about the only evidence the seafaring white men have of the teeming +interior population. For the whites do not penetrate Malaita. They tried +it once, in the days when the search was on for gold, but they always +left their heads behind to grin from the smoky rafters of the bushmen's +huts. + +When Mauki was a young man of seventeen, Fanfoa got out of tobacco. He +got dreadfully out of tobacco. It was hard times in all his villages. +He had been guilty of a mistake. Suo was a harbor so small that a large +schooner could not swing at anchor in it. It was surrounded by mangroves +that overhung the deep water. It was a trap, and into the trap sailed +two white men in a small ketch. They were after recruits, and they +possessed much tobacco and trade goods, to say nothing of three rifles +and plenty of ammunition. Now there were no salt-water men living at +Suo, and it was there that the bushmen could come down to the sea. The +ketch did a splendid traffic. It signed on twenty recruits the first +day. Even old Fanfoa signed on. And that same day the score of new +recruits chopped off the two white men's head, killed the boat's crew, +and burned the ketch. Thereafter, and for three months, there was +tobacco and trade goods in plenty and to spare in all the bush villages. +Then came the man-of-war that threw shells for miles into the hills, +frightening the people out of their villages and into the deeper bush. +Next the man-of-war sent landing parties ashore. The villages were all +burned, along with the tobacco and trade stuff. + +The cocoanuts and bananas were chopped down, the taro gardens uprooted, +and the pigs and chickens killed. + +It taught Fanfoa a lesson, but in the meantime he was out of tobacco. +Also, his young men were too frightened to sign on with the recruiting +vessels. That was why Fanfoa ordered his slave, Mauki, to be carried +down and signed on for half a case of tobacco advance, along with +knives, axes, calico, and beads, which he would pay for with his toil +on the plantations. Mauki was sorely frightened when they brought him on +board the schooner. He was a lamb led to the slaughter. White men were +ferocious creatures. They had to be, or else they would not make a +practice of venturing along the Malaita coast and into all harbors, two +on a schooner, when each schooner carried from fifteen to twenty blacks +as boat's crew, and often as high as sixty or seventy black recruits. In +addition to this, there was always the danger of the shore population, +the sudden attack and the cutting off of the schooner and all hands. +Truly, white men must be terrible. Besides, they were possessed of such +devil-devils--rifles that shot very rapidly many times, things of iron +and brass that made the schooners go when there was no wind, and boxes +that talked and laughed just as men talked and laughed. + +Ay, and he had heard of one white man whose particular devil-devil was +so powerful that he could take out all his teeth and put them back at +will. + +Down into the cabin they took Mauki. On deck, the one white man kept +guard with two revolvers in his belt. In the cabin the other white man +sat with a book before him, in which he inscribed strange marks and +lines. He looked at Mauki as though he had been a pig or a fowl, glanced +under the hollows of his arms, and wrote in the book. Then he held out +the writing stick and Mauki just barely touched it with his hand, in so +doing pledging himself to toil for three years on the plantations of the +Moongleam Soap Company. It was not explained to him that the will of +the ferocious white men would be used to enforce the pledge, and that, +behind all, for the same use, was all the power and all the warships of +Great Britain. + +Other blacks there were on board, from unheard-of far places, and when +the white man spoke to them, they tore the long feather from Mauki's +hair, cut that same hair short, and wrapped about his waist a lava-lava +of bright yellow calico. + +After many days on the schooner, and after beholding more land and +islands than he had ever dreamed of, he was landed on New Georgia, and +put to work in the field clearing jungle and cutting cane grass. For the +first time he knew what work was. Even as a slave to Fanfoa he had not +worked like this. And he did not like work. It was up at dawn and in at +dark, on two meals a day. And the food was tiresome. For weeks at a time +they were given nothing but sweet potatoes to eat, and for weeks at +a time it would be nothing but rice. He cut out the cocoanut from the +shells day after day; and for long days and weeks he fed the fires +that smoked the copra, till his eyes got sore and he was set to +felling trees. He was a good axe-man, and later he was put in the +bridge-building gang. Once, he was punished by being put in the +road-building gang. At times he served as boat's crew in the whale +boats, when they brought in copra from distant beaches or when the white +men went out to dynamite fish. + +Among other things he learned beche-de-mer English, with which he could +talk with all white men, and with all recruits who otherwise would have +talked in a thousand different dialects. Also, he learned certain things +about the white men, principally that they kept their word. If they told +a boy he was going to receive a stick of tobacco, he got it. If they +told a boy they would knock seven bells out of him if he did a certain +thing, when he did that thing, seven bells invariably were knocked out +of him. Mauki did not know what seven bells were, but they occurred +in beche-de-mer, and he imagined them to be the blood and teeth that +sometimes accompanied the process of knocking out seven bells. One other +thing he learned: no boy was struck or punished unless he did wrong. +Even when the white men were drunk, as they were frequently, they never +struck unless a rule had been broken. + +Mauki did not like the plantation. He hated work, and he was the son +of a chief. Furthermore, it was ten years since he had been stolen from +Port Adams by Fanfoa, and he was homesick. He was even homesick for the +slavery under Fanfoa. So he ran away. He struck back into the bush, with +the idea of working southward to the beach and stealing a canoe in which +to go home to Port Adams. + +But the fever got him, and he was captured and brought back more dead +than alive. + +A second time he ran away, in the company of two Malaita boys. They got +down the coast twenty miles, and were hidden in the hut of a Malaita +freeman, who dwelt in that village. But in the dead of night two white +men came, who were not afraid of all the village people and who knocked +seven bells out of the three runaways, tied them like pigs, and +tossed them into the whale boat. But the man in whose house they had +hidden--seven times seven bells must have been knocked out of him from +the way the hair, skin, and teeth flew, and he was discouraged for the +rest of his natural life from harboring runaway laborers. + +For a year Mauki toiled on. Then he was made a house-boy, and had good +food and easy times, with light work in keeping the house clean and +serving the white men with whiskey and beer at all hours of the day and +most hours of the night. He liked it, but he liked Port Adams more. He +had two years longer to serve, but two years were too long for him in +the throes of homesickness. He had grown wiser with his year of service, +and, being now a house-boy, he had opportunity. He had the cleaning of +the rifles, and he knew where the key to the store room was hung. He +planned to escape, and one night ten Malaita boys and one boy from San +Cristoval sneaked from the barracks and dragged one of the whale boats +down to the beach. It was Mauki who supplied the key that opened the +padlock on the boat, and it was Mauki who equipped the boat with a dozen +Winchesters, an immense amount of ammunition, a case of dynamite with +detonators and fuse, and ten cases of tobacco. + +The northwest monsoon was blowing, and they fled south in the night +time, hiding by day on detached and uninhabited islets, or dragging +their whale boat into the bush on the large islands. Thus they gained +Guadalcanar, skirted halfway along it, and crossed the Indispensable +Straits to Florida Island. It was here that they killed the San +Cristoval boy, saving his head and cooking and eating the rest of him. +The Malaita coast was only twenty miles away, but the last night a +strong current and baffling winds prevented them from gaining across. +Daylight found them still several miles from their goal. But daylight +brought a cutter, in which were two white men, who were not afraid of +eleven Malaita men armed with twelve rifles. Mauki and his companions +were carried back to Tulagi, where lived the great white master of all +the white men. And the great white master held a court, after which, +one by one, the runaways were tied up and given twenty lashes each, +and sentenced to a fine of fifteen dollars. They were sent back to New +Georgia, where the white men knocked seven bells out of them all around +and put them to work. But Mauki was no longer house-boy. He was put in +the road-making gang. The fine of fifteen dollars had been paid by the +white men from whom he had run away, and he was told that he would have +to work it out, which meant six months' additional toil. Further, his +share of the stolen tobacco earned him another year of toil. + +Port Adams was now three years and a half away, so he stole a canoe one +night, hid on the islets in Manning Straits, passed through the +Straits, and began working along the eastern coast of Ysabel, only to +be captured, two-thirds of the way along, by the white men on Meringe +Lagoon. After a week, he escaped from them and took to the bush. There +were no bush natives on Ysabel, only salt-water men, who were all +Christians. The white men put up a reward of five-hundred sticks of +tobacco, and every time Mauki ventured down to the sea to steal a canoe +he was chased by the salt-water men. Four months of this passed, when, +the reward having been raised to a thousand sticks, he was caught and +sent back to New Georgia and the road-building gang. Now a thousand +sticks are worth fifty dollars, and Mauki had to pay the reward himself, +which required a year and eight months' labor. So Port Adams was now +five years away. + +His homesickness was greater than ever, and it did not appeal to him to +settle down and be good, work out his four years, and go home. The +next time, he was caught in the very act of running away. His case was +brought before Mr. Haveby, the island manager of the Moongleam Soap +Company, who adjudged him an incorrigible. The Company had plantations +on the Santa Cruz Islands, hundreds of miles across the sea, and there +it sent its Solomon Islands' incorrigibles. And there Mauki was sent, +though he never arrived. The schooner stopped at Santa Anna, and in the +night Mauki swam ashore, where he stole two rifles and a case of tobacco +from the trader and got away in a canoe to Cristoval. Malaita was now to +the north, fifty or sixty miles away. But when he attempted the passage, +he was caught by a light gale and driven back to Santa Anna, where +the trader clapped him in irons and held him against the return of the +schooner from Santa Cruz. The two rifles the trader recovered, but the +case of tobacco was charged up to Mauki at the rate of another year. The +sum of years he now owed the Company was six. + +On the way back to New Georgia, the schooner dropped anchor in Marau +Sound, which lies at the southeastern extremity of Guadalcanar. Mauki +swam ashore with handcuffs on his wrists and got away to the bush. The +schooner went on, but the Moongleam trader ashore offered a thousand +sticks, and to him Mauki was brought by the bushmen with a year and +eight months tacked on to his account. Again, and before the schooner +called in, he got away, this time in a whale boat accompanied by a case +of the trader's tobacco. But a northwest gale wrecked him upon Ugi, +where the Christian natives stole his tobacco and turned him over to the +Moongleam trader who resided there. The tobacco the natives stole meant +another year for him, and the tale was now eight years and a half. + +“We'll send him to Lord Howe,” said Mr. Haveby. “Bunster is there, and +we'll let them settle it between them. It will be a case, I imagine, of +Mauki getting Bunster, or Bunster getting Mauki, and good riddance in +either event.” + +If one leaves Meringe Lagoon, on Ysabel, and steers a course due north, +magnetic, at the end of one hundred and fifty miles he will lift the +pounded coral beaches of Lord Howe above the sea. Lord Howe is a ring of +land some one hundred and fifty miles in circumference, several hundred +yards wide at its widest, and towering in places to a height of ten feet +above sea level. Inside this ring of sand is a mighty lagoon studded +with coral patches. Lord Howe belongs to the Solomons neither +geographically nor ethnologically. It is an atoll, while the Solomons +are high islands; and its people and language are Polynesian, while the +inhabitants of the Solomons are Melanesian. + +Lord Howe has been populated by the westward Polynesian drift which +continues to this day, big outrigger canoes being washed upon its +beaches by the southeast trade. That there has been a slight Melanesian +drift in the period of the northwest monsoon, is also evident. + +Nobody ever comes to Lord Howe, or Ontong-Java as it is sometimes +called. Thomas Cook & Son do not sell tickets to it, and tourists do not +dream of its existence. Not even a white missionary has landed on its +shore. Its five thousand natives are as peaceable as they are primitive. +Yet they were not always peaceable. The Sailing Directions speak of +them as hostile and treacherous. But the men who compile the Sailing +Directions have never heard of the change that was worked in the hearts +of the inhabitants, who, not many years ago, cut off a big bark and +killed all hands with the exception of the second mate. The survivor +carried the news to his brothers. The captains of three trading +schooners returned with him to Lord Howe. They sailed their vessels +right into the lagoon and proceeded to preach the white man's gospel +that only white men shall kill white men and that the lesser breeds must +keep hands off. The schooners sailed up and down the lagoon, harrying +and destroying. There was no escape from the narrow sand-circle, no +bush to which to flee. The men were shot down at sight, and there was +no avoiding being sighted. The villages were burned, the canoes smashed, +the chickens and pigs killed, and the precious cocoanut trees chopped +down. For a month this continued, when the schooner sailed away; but the +fear of the white man had been seared into the souls of the islanders +and never again were they rash enough to harm one. + +Max Bunster was the one white man on Lord Howe, trading in the pay of +the ubiquitous Moongleam Soap Company. And the Company billeted him +on Lord Howe, because, next to getting rid of him, it was the most +out-of-the-way place to be found. That the Company did not get rid of +him was due to the difficulty of finding another man to take his place. +He was a strapping big German, with something wrong in his brain. +Semi-madness would be a charitable statement of his condition. He was +a bully and a coward, and a thrice-bigger savage than any savage on the +island. + +Being a coward, his brutality was of the cowardly order. When he +first went into the Company's employ, he was stationed on Savo. When a +consumptive colonial was sent to take his place, he beat him up with his +fists and sent him off a wreck in the schooner that brought him. + +Mr. Haveby next selected a young Yorkshire giant to relieve Bunster. The +Yorkshire man had a reputation as a bruiser and preferred fighting to +eating. But Bunster wouldn't fight. He was a regular little lamb--for +ten days, at the end of which time the Yorkshire man was prostrated by a +combined attack of dysentery and fever. Then Bunster went for him, among +other things getting him down and jumping on him a score or so of times. +Afraid of what would happen when his victim recovered. Bunster fled away +in a cutter to Guvutu, where he signalized himself by beating up a young +Englishman already crippled by a Boer bullet through both hips. + +Then it was that Mr. Haveby sent Bunster to Lord Howe, the falling-off +place. He celebrated his landing by mopping up half a case of gin and by +thrashing the elderly and wheezy mate of the schooner which had brought +him. When the schooner departed, he called the kanakas down to the beach +and challenged them to throw him in a wrestling bout, promising a case +of tobacco to the one who succeeded. Three kanakas he threw, but was +promptly thrown by a fourth, who, instead of receiving the tobacco, got +a bullet through his lungs. + +And so began Bunster's reign on Lord Howe. Three thousand people lived +in the principal village; but it was deserted, even in broad day, when +he passed through. Men, women, and children fled before him. Even the +dogs and pigs got out of the way, while the king was not above hiding +under a mat. The two prime ministers lived in terror of Bunster, who +never discussed any moot subject, but struck out with his fists instead. + +And to Lord Howe came Mauki, to toil for Bunster for eight long years +and a half. There was no escaping from Lord Howe. For better or worse, +Bunster and he were tied together. Bunster weighed two hundred pounds. +Mauki weighed one hundred and ten. Bunster was a degenerate brute. But +Mauki was a primitive savage. While both had wills and ways of their +own. + +Mauki had no idea of the sort of master he was to work for. He had had +no warnings, and he had concluded as a matter of course that Bunster +would be like other white men, a drinker of much whiskey, a ruler and a +lawgiver who always kept his word and who never struck a boy undeserved. +Bunster had the advantage. He knew all about Mauki, and gloated over the +coming into possession of him. The last cook was suffering from a broken +arm and a dislocated shoulder, so Bunster made Mauki cook and general +house-boy. + +And Mauki soon learned that there were white men and white men. On the +very day the schooner departed he was ordered to buy a chicken from +Samisee, the native Tongan missionary. But Samisee had sailed across +the lagoon and would not be back for three days. Mauki returned with +the information. He climbed the steep stairway (the house stood on piles +twelve feet above the sand), and entered the living room to report. +The trader demanded the chicken. Mauki opened his mouth to explain the +missionary's absence. But Bunster did not care for explanations. He +struck out with his fist. The blow caught Mauki on the mouth and lifted +him into the air. Clear through the doorway he flew, across the narrow +veranda, breaking the top railing, and down to the ground. + +His lips were a contused, shapeless mass, and his mouth was full of +blood and broken teeth. + +“That'll teach you that back talk don't go with me,” the trader shouted, +purple with rage, peering down at him over the broken railing. + +Mauki had never met a white man like this, and he resolved to walk small +and never offend. He saw the boat boys knocked about, and one of +them put in irons for three days with nothing to eat for the crime of +breaking a rowlock while pulling. Then, too, he heard the gossip of the +village and learned why Bunster had taken a third wife--by force, as was +well known. The first and second wives lay in the graveyard, under the +white coral sand, with slabs of coral rock at head and feet. They had +died, it was said, from beatings he had given them. The third wife was +certainly ill-used, as Mauki could see for himself. + +But there was no way by which to avoid offending the white man who +seemed offended with life. When Mauki kept silent, he was struck and +called a sullen brute. When he spoke, he was struck for giving back +talk. When he was grave, Bunster accused him of plotting and gave him a +thrashing in advance; and when he strove to be cheerful and to smile, +he was charged with sneering at his lord and master and given a taste of +stick. Bunster was a devil. + +The village would have done for him, had it not remembered the lesson +of the three schooners. It might have done for him anyway, if there had +been a bush to which to flee. As it was, the murder of the white men, +of any white man, would bring a man-of-war that would kill the offenders +and chop down the precious cocoanut trees. Then there were the boat +boys, with minds fully made up to drown him by accident at the first +opportunity to capsize the cutter. Only Bunster saw to it that the boat +did not capsize. + +Mauki was of a different breed, and escape being impossible while +Bunster lived, he was resolved to get the white man. The trouble was +that he could never find a chance. Bunster was always on guard. Day +and night his revolvers were ready to hand. He permitted nobody to pass +behind his back, as Mauki learned after having been knocked down several +times. Bunster knew that he had more to fear from the good-natured, even +sweet-faced, Malaita boy than from the entire population of Lord Howe; +and it gave added zest to the programme of torment he was carrying out. +And Mauki walked small, accepted his punishments, and waited. + +All other white men had respected his tambos, but not so Bunster. + +Mauki's weekly allowance of tobacco was two sticks. Bunster passed them +to his woman and ordered Mauki to receive them from her hand. But this +could not be, and Mauki went without his tobacco. In the same way he was +made to miss many a meal, and to go hungry many a day. He was ordered to +make chowder out of the big clams that grew in the lagoon. This he could +not do, for clams were tambo. Six times in succession he refused to +touch the clams, and six times he was knocked senseless. Bunster knew +that the boy would die first, but called his refusal mutiny, and would +have killed him had there been another cook to take his place. + +One of the trader's favorite tricks was to catch Mauki's kinky locks and +bat his head against the wall. Another trick was to catch Mauki unawares +and thrust the live end of a cigar against his flesh. This Bunster +called vaccination, and Mauki was vaccinated a number of times a week. +Once, in a rage, Bunster ripped the cup handle from Mauki's nose, +tearing the hole clear out of the cartilage. + +“Oh, what a mug!” was his comment, when he surveyed the damage he had +wrought. + +The skin of a shark is like sandpaper, but the skin of a ray fish is +like a rasp. In the South Seas the natives use it as a wood file in +smoothing down canoes and paddles. Bunster had a mitten made of ray fish +skin. The first time he tried it on Mauki, with one sweep of the hand +it fetched the skin off his back from neck to armpit. Bunster was +delighted. He gave his wife a taste of the mitten, and tried it out +thoroughly on the boat boys. The prime ministers came in for a stroke +each, and they had to grin and take it for a joke. + +“Laugh, damn you, laugh!” was the cue he gave. + +Mauki came in for the largest share of the mitten. Never a day passed +without a caress from it. There were times when the loss of so much +cuticle kept him awake at night, and often the half-healed surface +was raked raw afresh by the facetious Mr. Bunster. Mauki continued his +patient wait, secure in the knowledge that sooner or later his time +would come. And he knew just what he was going to do, down to the +smallest detail, when the time did come. + +One morning Bunster got up in a mood for knocking seven bells out of +the universe. He began on Mauki, and wound up on Mauki, in the interval +knocking down his wife and hammering all the boat boys. At breakfast he +called the coffee slops and threw the scalding contents of the cup into +Mauki's face. By ten o'clock Bunster was shivering with ague, and half +an hour later he was burning with fever. It was no ordinary attack. It +quickly became pernicious, and developed into black-water fever. The +days passed, and he grew weaker and weaker, never leaving his bed. Mauki +waited and watched, the while his skin grew intact once more. He ordered +the boys to beach the cutter, scrub her bottom, and give her a general +overhauling. They thought the order emanated from Bunster, and they +obeyed. But Bunster at the time was lying unconscious and giving no +orders. This was Mauki's chance, but still he waited. + +When the worst was past, and Bunster lay convalescent and conscious, but +weak as a baby, Mauki packed his few trinkets, including the china +cup handle, into his trade box. Then he went over to the village and +interviewed the king and his two prime ministers. + +“This fella Bunster, him good fella you like too much?” he asked. + +They explained in one voice that they liked the trader not at all. The +ministers poured forth a recital of all the indignities and wrongs +that had been heaped upon them. The king broke down and wept. Mauki +interrupted rudely. + +“You savve me--me big fella marster my country. You no like 'm this +fella white marster. Me no like 'm. Plenty good you put hundred +cocoanut, two hundred cocoanut, three hundred cocoanut along cutter. +Him finish, you go sleep 'm good fella. Altogether kanaka sleep m good +fella. Bime by big fella noise along house, you no savve hear 'm that +fella noise. You altogether sleep strong fella too much.” + +In like manner Mauki interviewed the boat boys. Then he ordered +Bunster's wife to return to her family house. Had she refused, he would +have been in a quandary, for his tambo would not have permitted him to +lay hands on her. + +The house deserted, he entered the sleeping room, where the trader lay +in a doze. Mauki first removed the revolvers, then placed the ray fish +mitten on his hand. Bunster's first warning was a stroke of the mitten +that removed the skin the full length of his nose. + +“Good fella, eh?” Mauki grinned, between two strokes, one of which swept +the forehead bare and the other of which cleaned off one side of his +face. “Laugh, damn you, laugh.” + +Mauki did his work throughly, and the kanakas, hiding in their houses, +heard the “big fella noise” that Bunster made and continued to make for +an hour or more. + +When Mauki was done, he carried the boat compass and all the rifles and +ammunition down to the cutter, which he proceeded to ballast with cases +of tobacco. It was while engaged in this that a hideous, skinless thing +came out of the house and ran screaming down the beach till it fell in +the sand and mowed and gibbered under the scorching sun. Mauki looked +toward it and hesitated. Then he went over and removed the head, which +he wrapped in a mat and stowed in the stern locker of the cutter. + +So soundly did the kanakas sleep through that long hot day that they +did not see the cutter run out through the passage and head south, +close-hauled on the southeast trade. Nor was the cutter ever sighted on +that long tack to the shores of Ysabel, and during the tedious head-beat +from there to Malaita. He landed at Port Adams with a wealth of rifles +and tobacco such as no one man had ever possessed before. But he did +not stop there. He had taken a white man's head, and only the bush could +shelter him. So back he went to the bush villages, where he shot old +Fanfoa and half a dozen of the chief men, and made himself the chief +over all the villages. When his father died, Mauki's brother ruled +in Port Adams, and joined together, salt-water men and bushmen, the +resulting combination was the strongest of the ten score fighting tribes +of Malaita. + +More than his fear of the British government was Mauki's fear of the +all-powerful Moongleam Soap Company; and one day a message came up +to him in the bush, reminding him that he owed the Company eight and +one-half years of labor. He sent back a favorable answer, and then +appeared the inevitable white man, the captain of the schooner, the +only white man during Mauki's reign, who ventured the bush and came out +alive. This man not only came out, but he brought with him seven hundred +and fifty dollars in gold sovereigns--the money price of eight years +and a half of labor plus the cost price of certain rifles and cases of +tobacco. + +Mauki no longer weighs one hundred and ten pounds. His stomach is +three times its former girth, and he has four wives. He has many +other things--rifles and revolvers, the handle of a china cup, and an +excellent collection of bushmen's heads. But more precious than the +entire collection is another head, perfectly dried and cured, with sandy +hair and a yellowish beard, which is kept wrapped in the finest of fibre +lava-lavas. When Mauki goes to war with villages beyond his realm, +he invariably gets out this head, and alone in his grass palace, +contemplates it long and solemnly. At such times the hush of death falls +on the village, and not even a pickaninny dares make a noise. The +head is esteemed the most powerful devil-devil on Malaita, and to the +possession of it is ascribed all of Mauki's greatness. + + + + +“YAH! YAH! YAH!” + +He was a whiskey-guzzling Scotchman, and he downed his whiskey neat, +beginning with his first tot punctually at six in the morning, and +thereafter repeating it at regular intervals throughout the day till +bedtime, which was usually midnight. He slept but five hours out of the +twenty-four, and for the remaining nineteen hours he was quietly and +decently drunk. During the eight weeks I spent with him on Oolong Atoll, +I never saw him draw a sober breath. In fact, his sleep was so short +that he never had time to sober up. It was the most beautiful and +orderly perennial drunk I have ever observed. + +McAllister was his name. He was an old man, and very shaky on his pins. +His hand trembled as with a palsy, especially noticeable when he poured +his whiskey, though I never knew him to spill a drop. He had been +twenty-eight years in Melanesia, ranging from German New Guinea to the +German Solomons, and so thoroughly had he become identified with that +portion of the world, that he habitually spoke in that bastard lingo +called “bech-de-mer.” Thus, in conversation with me, SUN HE COME UP +meant sunrise; KAI-KAI HE STOP meant that dinner was served; and BELLY +BELONG ME WALK ABOUT meant that he was sick at his stomach. He was +a small man, and a withered one, burned inside and outside by ardent +spirits and ardent sun. He was a cinder, a bit of a clinker of a man, a +little animated clinker, not yet quite cold, that moved stiffly and by +starts and jerks like an automaton. A gust of wind would have blown him +away. He weighed ninety pounds. + +But the immense thing about him was the power with which he ruled. +Oolong Atoll was one hundred and forty miles in circumference. One +steered by compass course in its lagoon. It was populated by five +thousand Polynesians, all strapping men and women, many of them standing +six feet in height and weighing a couple of hundred pounds. Oolong was +two hundred and fifty miles from the nearest land. Twice a year a +little schooner called to collect copra. The one white man on Oolong was +McAllister, petty trader and unintermittent guzzler; and he ruled Oolong +and its six thousand savages with an iron hand. He said come, and they +came, go, and they went. They never questioned his will nor judgment. +He was cantankerous as only an aged Scotchman can be, and interfered +continually in their personal affairs. When Nugu, the king's daughter, +wanted to marry Haunau from the other end of the atoll, her father said +yes; but McAllister said no, and the marriage never came off. When the +king wanted to buy a certain islet in the lagoon from the chief priest, +McAllister said no. The king was in debt to the Company to the tune of +180,000 cocoanuts, and until that was paid he was not to spend a single +cocoanut on anything else. + +And yet the king and his people did not love McAllister. In truth, they +hated him horribly, and, to my knowledge, the whole population, with the +priests at the head, tried vainly for three months to pray him to death. +The devil-devils they sent after him were awe-inspiring, but since +McAllister did not believe in devil-devils, they were without power over +him. With drunken Scotchmen all signs fail. They gathered up scraps of +food which had touched his lips, an empty whiskey bottle, a cocoanut +from which he had drunk, and even his spittle, and performed all kinds +of deviltries over them. But McAllister lived on. His health was superb. +He never caught fever; nor coughs nor colds; dysentery passed him by; +and the malignant ulcers and vile skin diseases that attack blacks and +whites alike in that climate never fastened upon him. He must have been +so saturated with alcohol as to defy the lodgment of germs. I used to +imagine them falling to the ground in showers of microscopic cinders as +fast as they entered his whiskey-sodden aura. No one loved him, not even +germs, while he loved only whiskey, and still he lived. + +I was puzzled. I could not understand six thousand natives putting up +with that withered shrimp of a tyrant. It was a miracle that he had not +died suddenly long since. Unlike the cowardly Melanesians, the people +were high-stomached and warlike. In the big graveyard, at head and feet +of the graves, were relics of past sanguinary history--blubber-spades, +rusty old bayonets and cutlasses, copper bolts, rudder-irons, harpoons, +bomb guns, bricks that could have come from nowhere but a whaler's +trying-out furnace, and old brass pieces of the sixteenth century that +verified the traditions of the early Spanish navigators. Ship after +ship had come to grief on Oolong. Not thirty years before, the whaler +BLENNERDALE, running into the lagoon for repair, had been cut off with +all hands. In similar fashion had the crew of the GASKET, a sandalwood +trader, perished. There was a big French bark, the TOULON, becalmed off +the atoll, which the islanders boarded after a sharp tussle and wrecked +in the Lipau Passage, the captain and a handful of sailors escaping in +the longboat. Then there were the Spanish pieces, which told of the +loss of one of the early explorers. All this, of the vessels named, is +a matter of history, and is to be found in the SOUTH PACIFIC SAILING +DIRECTORY. But that there was other history, unwritten, I was yet to +learn. In the meantime I puzzled why six thousand primitive savages let +one degenerate Scotch despot live. + +One hot afternoon McAllister and I sat on the veranda looking out over +the lagoon, with all its wonder of jeweled colors. At our backs, across +the hundred yards of palm-studded sand, the outer surf roared on the +reef. It was dreadfully warm. We were in four degree south latitude and +the sun was directly overhead, having crossed the Line a few days before +on its journey south. There was no wind--not even a catspaw. The season +of the southeast trade was drawing to an early close, and the northwest +monsoon had not yet begun to blow. + +“They can't dance worth a damn,” said McAllister. + +I had happened to mention that the Polynesian dances were superior to +the Papuan, and this McAllister had denied, for no other reason than +his cantankerousness. But it was too hot to argue, and I said nothing. +Besides, I had never seen the Oolong people dance. + +“I'll prove it to you,” he announced, beckoning to the black New Hanover +boy, a labor recruit, who served as cook and general house servant. +“Hey, you, boy, you tell 'm one fella king come along me.” + +The boy departed, and back came the prime minister, perturbed, ill at +ease, and garrulous with apologetic explanation. In short, the king +slept, and was not to be disturbed. + +“King he plenty strong fella sleep,” was his final sentence. + +McAllister was in such a rage that the prime minister incontinently +fled, to return with the king himself. They were a magnificent pair, +the king especially, who must have been all of six feet three inches in +height. His features had the eagle-like quality that is so frequently +found in those of the North American Indian. He had been molded and born +to rule. His eyes flashed as he listened, but right meekly he obeyed +McAllister's command to fetch a couple of hundred of the best dancers, +male and female, in the village. And dance they did, for two mortal +hours, under that broiling sun. They did not love him for it, and little +he cared, in the end dismissing them with abuse and sneers. + +The abject servility of those magnificent savages was terrifying. How +could it be? What was the secret of his rule? More and more I puzzled +as the days went by, and though I observed perpetual examples of his +undisputed sovereignty, never a clew was there as to how it was. + +One day I happened to speak of my disappointment in failing to trade for +a beautiful pair of orange cowries. The pair was worth five pounds +in Sydney if it was worth a cent. I had offered two hundred sticks +of tobacco to the owner, who had held out for three hundred. When I +casually mentioned the situation, McAllister immediately sent for the +man, took the shells from him, and turned them over to me. Fifty sticks +were all he permitted me to pay for them. The man accepted the tobacco +and seemed overjoyed at getting off so easily. As for me, I resolved to +keep a bridle on my tongue in the future. And still I mulled over the +secret of McAllister's power. I even went to the extent of asking +him directly, but all he did was to cock one eye, look wise, and take +another drink. + +One night I was out fishing in the lagoon with Oti, the man who had +been mulcted of the cowries. Privily, I had made up to him an additional +hundred and fifty sticks, and he had come to regard me with a respect +that was almost veneration, which was curious, seeing that he was an old +man, twice my age at least. + +“What name you fella kanaka all the same pickaninny?” I began on him. +“This fella trader he one fella. You fella kanaka plenty fella too +much. You fella kanaka just like 'm dog--plenty fright along that fella +trader. He no eat you, fella. He no get 'm teeth along him. What name +you too much fright?” + +“S'pose plenty fella kanaka kill 'm?” he asked. + +“He die,” I retorted. “You fella kanaka kill 'm plenty fella white man +long time before. What name you fright this fella white man?” + +“Yes, we kill 'm plenty,” was his answer. “My word! Any amount! Long +time before. One time, me young fella too much, one big fella ship he +stop outside. Wind he no blow. Plenty fella kanaka we get 'm canoe, +plenty fella canoe, we go catch 'm that fella ship. My word--we catch 'm +big fella fight. Two, three white men shoot like hell. We no fright. +We come alongside, we go up side, plenty fella, maybe I think fifty-ten +(five hundred). One fella white Mary (woman) belong that fella ship. +Never before I see 'm white Mary. Bime by plenty white man finish. One +fella skipper he no die. Five fella, six fella white man no die. Skipper +he sing out. Some fella white man he fight. Some fella white man he +lower away boat. After that, all together over the side they go. Skipper +he sling white Mary down. After that they washee (row) strong fella +plenty too much. Father belong me, that time he strong fella. He throw +'m one fella spear. That fella spear he go in one side that white Mary. +He no stop. My word, he go out other side that fella Mary. She finish. +Me no fright. Plenty kanaka too much no fright.” + +Old Oti's pride had been touched, for he suddenly stripped down his +lava-lava and showed me the unmistakable scar of a bullet. Before I +could speak, his line ran out suddenly. He checked it and attempted to +haul in, but found that the fish had run around a coral branch. Casting +a look of reproach at me for having beguiled him from his watchfulness, +he went over the side, feet first, turning over after he got under and +following his line down to bottom. The water was ten fathoms. I leaned +over and watched the play of his feet, growing dim and dimmer, as they +stirred the wan phosphorescence into ghostly fires. Ten fathoms--sixty +feet--it was nothing to him, an old man, compared with the value of a +hook and line. After what seemed five minutes, though it could not have +been more than a minute, I saw him flaming whitely upward. He broke +surface and dropped a ten pound rock cod into the canoe, the line and +hook intact, the latter still fast in the fish's mouth. + +“It may be,” I said remorselessly. “You no fright long ago. You plenty +fright now along that fella trader.” + +“Yes, plenty fright,” he confessed, with an air of dismissing the +subject. For half an hour we pulled up our lines and flung them out in +silence. Then small fish-sharks began to bite, and after losing a hook +apiece, we hauled in and waited for the sharks to go their way. + +“I speak you true,” Oti broke into speech, “then you savve we fright +now.” + +I lighted up my pipe and waited, and the story that Oti told me in +atrocious bech-de-mer I here turn into proper English. Otherwise, in +spirit and order of narrative, the tale is as it fell from Oti's lips. + +“It was after that that we were very proud. We had fought many times +with the strange white men who live upon the sea, and always we had +beaten them. A few of us were killed, but what was that compared with +the stores of wealth of a thousand thousand kinds that we found on the +ships? And then one day, maybe twenty years ago, or twenty-five, there +came a schooner right through the passage and into the lagoon. It was a +large schooner with three masts. She had five white men and maybe forty +boat's crew, black fellows from New Guinea and New Britain; and she +had come to fish beche-de-mer. She lay at anchor across the lagoon from +here, at Pauloo, and her boats scattered out everywhere, making camps +on the beaches where they cured the beche-de-mer. This made them weak +by dividing them, for those who fished here and those on the schooner at +Pauloo were fifty miles apart, and there were others farther away still. + +“Our king and headmen held council, and I was one in the canoe that +paddled all afternoon and all night across the lagoon, bringing word +to the people of Pauloo that in the morning we would attack the fishing +camps at the one time and that it was for them to take the schooner. We +who brought the word were tired with the paddling, but we took part +in the attack. On the schooner were two white men, the skipper and the +second mate, with half a dozen black boys. The skipper with three boys +we caught on shore and killed, but first eight of us the skipper killed +with his two revolvers. We fought close together, you see, at hand +grapples. + +“The noise of our fighting told the mate what was happening, and he put +food and water and a sail in the small dingy, which was so small that +it was no more than twelve feet long. We came down upon the schooner, a +thousand men, covering the lagoon with our canoes. Also, we were blowing +conch shells, singing war songs, and striking the sides of the canoes +with our paddles. What chance had one white man and three black boys +against us? No chance at all, and the mate knew it. + +“White men are hell. I have watched them much, and I am an old man now, +and I understand at last why the white men have taken to themselves all +the islands in the sea. It is because they are hell. Here are you in +the canoe with me. You are hardly more than a boy. You are not wise, +for each day I tell you many things you do not know. When I was a little +pickaninny, I knew more about fish and the ways of fish than you know +now. I am an old man, but I swim down to the bottom of the lagoon, and +you cannot follow me. What are you good for, anyway? I do not know, +except to fight. I have never seen you fight, yet I know that you are +like your brothers and that you will fight like hell. Also, you are a +fool, like your brothers. You do not know when you are beaten. You will +fight until you die, and then it will be too late to know that you are +beaten. + +“Now behold what this mate did. As we came down upon him, covering the +sea and blowing our conches, he put off from the schooner in the small +boat, along with the three black boys, and rowed for the passage. There +again he was a fool, for no wise man would put out to sea in so small +a boat. The sides of it were not four inches above the water. Twenty +canoes went after him, filled with two hundred young men. We paddled +five fathoms while his black boys were rowing one fathom. He had no +chance, but he was a fool. He stood up in the boat with a rifle, and he +shot many times. He was not a good shot, but as we drew close many of us +were wounded and killed. But still he had no chance. + +“I remember that all the time he was smoking a cigar. When we were forty +feet away and coming fast, he dropped the rifle, lighted a stick of +dynamite with the cigar, and threw it at us. He lighted another and +another, and threw them at us very rapidly, many of them. I know now +that he must have split the ends of the fuses and stuck in match heads, +because they lighted so quickly. Also, the fuses were very short. +Sometimes the dynamite sticks went off in the air, but most of them went +off in the canoes. And each time they went off in a canoe, that canoe +was finished. Of the twenty canoes, the half were smashed to pieces. The +canoe I was in was so smashed, and likewise the two men who sat next +to me. The dynamite fell between them. The other canoes turned and ran +away. Then that mate yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' at us. Also he went at us +again with his rifle, so that many were killed through the back as they +fled away. And all the time the black boys in the boat went on rowing. +You see, I told you true, that mate was hell. + +“Nor was that all. Before he left the schooner, he set her on fire, +and fixed up all the powder and dynamite so that it would go off at one +time. There were hundreds of us on board, trying to put out the fire, +heaving up water from overside, when the schooner blew up. So that all +we had fought for was lost to us, besides many more of us being killed. +Sometimes, even now, in my old age, I have bad dreams in which I hear +that mate yell, Yah! Yah! Yah!' In a voice of thunder he yells, Yah! +Yah! Yah!' But all those in the fishing camps were killed. + +“The mate went out of the passage in his little boat, and that was the +end of him we made sure, for how could so small a boat, with four men in +it, live on the ocean? A month went by, and then, one morning, between +two rain squalls, a schooner sailed in through our passage and dropped +anchor before the village. The king and the headmen made big talk, and +it was agreed that we would take the schooner in two or three days. In +the meantime, as it was our custom always to appear friendly, we went +off to her in canoes, bringing strings of cocoanuts, fowls, and pigs, to +trade. But when we were alongside, many canoes of us, the men on board +began to shoot us with rifles, and as we paddled away I saw the mate who +had gone to sea in the little boat spring upon the rail and dance and +yell, Yah! Yah! Yah!' + +“That afternoon they landed from the schooner in three small boats +filled with white men. They went right through the village, shooting +every man they saw. Also they shot the fowls and pigs. We who were not +killed got away in canoes and paddled out into the lagoon. Looking back, +we could see all the houses on fire. Late in the afternoon we saw many +canoes coming from Nihi, which is the village near the Nihi Passage in +the northeast. They were all that were left, and like us their village +had been burned by a second schooner that had come through Nihi Passage. + +“We stood on in the darkness to the westward for Pauloo, but in the +middle of the night we heard women wailing and then we ran into a big +fleet of canoes. They were all that were left of Pauloo, which likewise +was in ashes, for a third schooner had come in through the Pauloo +Passage. You see, that mate, with his black boys, had not been drowned. +He had made the Solomon Islands, and there told his brothers of what we +had done in Oolong. And all his brothers had said they would come and +punish us, and there they were in the three schooners, and our three +villages were wiped out. + +“And what was there for us to do? In the morning the two schooners from +windward sailed down upon us in the middle of the lagoon. The trade wind +was blowing fresh, and by scores of canoes they ran us down. And the +rifles never ceased talking. We scattered like flying fish before the +bonita, and there were so many of us that we escaped by thousands, this +way and that, to the islands on the rim of the atoll. + +“And thereafter the schooners hunted us up and down the lagoon. In the +nighttime we slipped past them. But the next day, or in two days or +three days, the schooners would be coming back, hunting us toward +the other end of the lagoon. And so it went. We no longer counted nor +remembered our dead. True, we were many and they were few. But what +could we do? I was in one of the twenty canoes filled with men who were +not afraid to die. We attacked the smallest schooner. They shot us down +in heaps. They threw dynamite into the canoes, and when the dynamite +gave out, they threw hot water down upon us. And the rifles never ceased +talking. And those whose canoes were smashed were shot as they swam +away. And the mate danced up and down upon the cabin top and yelled, +'Yah! Yah! Yah!'” + +“Every house on every smallest island was burned. Not a pig nor a fowl +was left alive. Our wells were defiled with the bodies of the slain, or +else heaped high with coral rock. We were twenty-five thousand on Oolong +before the three schooners came. Today we are five thousand. After the +schooners left, we were but three thousand, as you shall see. + +“At last the three schooners grew tired of chasing us back and forth. So +they went, the three of them, to Nihi, in the northeast. And then they +drove us steadily to the west. Their nine boats were in the water as +well. They beat up every island as they moved along. They drove us, +drove us, drove us day by day. And every night the three schooners and +the nine boats made a chain of watchfulness that stretched across the +lagoon from rim to rim, so that we could not escape back. + +“They could not drive us forever that way, for the lagoon was only so +large, and at last all of us that yet lived were driven upon the last +sand bank to the west. Beyond lay the open sea. There were ten thousand +of us, and we covered the sand bank from the lagoon edge to the pounding +surf on the other side. No one could lie down. There was no room. We +stood hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder. Two days they kept us there, +and the mate would climb up in the rigging to mock us and yell, Yah! +Yah! Yah!' till we were well sorry that we had ever harmed him or his +schooner a month before. We had no food, and we stood on our feet two +days and nights. The little babies died, and the old and weak died, +and the wounded died. And worst of all, we had no water to quench our +thirst, and for two days the sun beat down on us, and there was no +shade. Many men and women waded out into the ocean and were drowned, the +surf casting their bodies back on the beach. And there came a pest of +flies. Some men swam to the sides of the schooners, but they were shot +to the last one. And we that lived were very sorry that in our pride we +tried to take the schooner with the three masts that came to fish for +beche-de-mer. + +“On the morning of the third day came the skippers of the three +schooners and that mate in a small boat. They carried rifles, all of +them, and revolvers, and they made talk. It was only that they were +weary of killing us that they had stopped, they told us. And we told +them that we were sorry, that never again would we harm a white man, and +in token of our submission we poured sand upon our heads. And all the +women and children set up a great wailing for water, so that for some +time no man could make himself heard. Then we were told our punishment. +We must fill the three schooners with copra and beche-de-mer. And we +agreed, for we wanted water, and our hearts were broken, and we knew +that we were children at fighting when we fought with white men who +fight like hell. And when all the talk was finished, the mate stood up +and mocked us, and yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' After that we paddled away in +our canoes and sought water. + +“And for weeks we toiled at catching beche-de-mer and curing it, in +gathering the cocoanuts and turning them into copra. By day and night +the smoke rose in clouds from all the beaches of all the islands of +Oolong as we paid the penalty of our wrongdoing. For in those days of +death it was burned clearly on all our brains that it was very wrong to +harm a white man. + +“By and by, the schooners full of copra and beche-de-mer and our trees +empty of cocoanuts, the three skippers and that mate called us all +together for a big talk. And they said they were very glad that we had +learned our lesson, and we said for the ten-thousandth time that we were +sorry and that we would not do it again. Also, we poured sand upon our +heads. Then the skippers said that it was all very well, but just to +show us that they did not forget us, they would send a devil-devil that +we would never forget and that we would always remember any time we +might feel like harming a white man. After that the mate mocked us +one more time and yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' Then six of our men, whom we +thought long dead, were put ashore from one of the schooners, and the +schooners hoisted their sails and ran out through the passage for the +Solomons. + +“The six men who were put ashore were the first to catch the devil-devil +the skippers sent back after us.” + +“A great sickness came,” I interrupted, for I recognized the trick. +The schooner had had measles on board, and the six prisoners had been +deliberately exposed to it. + +“Yes, a great sickness,” Oti went on. “It was a powerful devil-devil. +The oldest man had never heard of the like. Those of our priests that +yet lived we killed because they could not overcome the devil-devil. +The sickness spread. I have said that there were ten thousand of us +that stood hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder on the sandbank. When the +sickness left us, there were three thousand yet alive. Also, having made +all our cocoanuts into copra, there was a famine. + +“That fella trader,” Oti concluded, “he like 'm that much dirt. He like +'m clam he die KAI-KAI (meat) he stop, stink 'm any amount. He like 'm +one fella dog, one sick fella dog plenty fleas stop along him. We no +fright along that fella trader. We fright because he white man. We savve +plenty too much no good kill white man. That one fella sick dog trader +he plenty brother stop along him, white men like 'm you fight like hell. +We no fright that damn trader. Some time he made kanaka plenty cross +along him and kanaka want 'm kill m, kanaka he think devil-devil and +kanaka he hear that fella mate sing out, Yah! Yah! Yah!' and kanaka no +kill 'm.” + +Oti baited his hook with a piece of squid, which he tore with his teeth +from the live and squirming monster, and hook and bait sank in white +flames to the bottom. + +“Shark walk about he finish,” he said. “I think we catch 'm plenty fella +fish.” + +His line jerked savagely. He pulled it in rapidly, hand under hand, and +landed a big gasping rock cod in the bottom of the canoe. + +“Sun he come up, I make 'm that dam fella trader one present big fella +fish,” said Oti. + + + + +THE HEATHEN + +I met him first in a hurricane; and though we had gone through the +hurricane on the same schooner, it was not until the schooner had gone +to pieces under us that I first laid eyes on him. Without doubt I +had seen him with the rest of the kanaka crew on board, but I had not +consciously been aware of his existence, for the Petite Jeanne was +rather overcrowded. In addition to her eight or ten kanaka seamen, her +white captain, mate, and supercargo, and her six cabin passengers, +she sailed from Rangiroa with something like eighty-five deck +passengers--Paumotans and Tahitians, men, women, and children each with +a trade box, to say nothing of sleeping mats, blankets, and clothes +bundles. + +The pearling season in the Paumotus was over, and all hands were +returning to Tahiti. The six of us cabin passengers were pearl buyers. +Two were Americans, one was Ah Choon (the whitest Chinese I have ever +known), one was a German, one was a Polish Jew, and I completed the half +dozen. + +It had been a prosperous season. Not one of us had cause for complaint, +nor one of the eighty-five deck passengers either. All had done well, +and all were looking forward to a rest-off and a good time in Papeete. + +Of course, the Petite Jeanne was overloaded. She was only seventy tons, +and she had no right to carry a tithe of the mob she had on board. +Beneath her hatches she was crammed and jammed with pearl shell and +copra. Even the trade room was packed full with shell. It was a miracle +that the sailors could work her. There was no moving about the decks. +They simply climbed back and forth along the rails. + +In the night time they walked upon the sleepers, who carpeted the deck, +I'll swear, two deep. Oh! And there were pigs and chickens on deck, and +sacks of yams, while every conceivable place was festooned with strings +of drinking cocoanuts and bunches of bananas. On both sides, between the +fore and main shrouds, guys had been stretched, just low enough for +the foreboom to swing clear; and from each of these guys at least fifty +bunches of bananas were suspended. + +It promised to be a messy passage, even if we did make it in the two +or three days that would have been required if the southeast trades had +been blowing fresh. But they weren't blowing fresh. After the first +five hours the trade died away in a dozen or so gasping fans. The calm +continued all that night and the next day--one of those glaring, glassy, +calms, when the very thought of opening one's eyes to look at it is +sufficient to cause a headache. + +The second day a man died--an Easter Islander, one of the best divers +that season in the lagoon. Smallpox--that is what it was; though how +smallpox could come on board, when there had been no known cases ashore +when we left Rangiroa, is beyond me. There it was, though--smallpox, a +man dead, and three others down on their backs. + +There was nothing to be done. We could not segregate the sick, nor could +we care for them. We were packed like sardines. There was nothing to do +but rot and die--that is, there was nothing to do after the night that +followed the first death. On that night, the mate, the supercargo, the +Polish Jew, and four native divers sneaked away in the large whale boat. +They were never heard of again. In the morning the captain promptly +scuttled the remaining boats, and there we were. + +That day there were two deaths; the following day three; then it +jumped to eight. It was curious to see how we took it. The natives, +for instance, fell into a condition of dumb, stolid fear. The +captain--Oudouse, his name was, a Frenchman--became very nervous and +voluble. He actually got the twitches. He was a large fleshy man, +weighing at least two hundred pounds, and he quickly became a faithful +representation of a quivering jelly-mountain of fat. + +The German, the two Americans, and myself bought up all the Scotch +whiskey, and proceeded to stay drunk. The theory was beautiful--namely, +if we kept ourselves soaked in alcohol, every smallpox germ that came +into contact with us would immediately be scorched to a cinder. And the +theory worked, though I must confess that neither Captain Oudouse nor Ah +Choon were attacked by the disease either. The Frenchman did not drink +at all, while Ah Choon restricted himself to one drink daily. + +It was a pretty time. The sun, going into northern declination, was +straight overhead. There was no wind, except for frequent squalls, which +blew fiercely for from five minutes to half an hour, and wound up by +deluging us with rain. After each squall, the awful sun would come out, +drawing clouds of steam from the soaked decks. + +The steam was not nice. It was the vapor of death, freighted with +millions and millions of germs. We always took another drink when we saw +it going up from the dead and dying, and usually we took two or three +more drinks, mixing them exceptionally stiff. Also, we made it a rule +to take an additional several each time they hove the dead over to the +sharks that swarmed about us. + +We had a week of it, and then the whiskey gave out. It is just as well, +or I shouldn't be alive now. It took a sober man to pull through what +followed, as you will agree when I mention the little fact that only two +men did pull through. The other man was the heathen--at least, that was +what I heard Captain Oudouse call him at the moment I first became aware +of the heathen's existence. But to come back. + +It was at the end of the week, with the whiskey gone, and the pearl +buyers sober, that I happened to glance at the barometer that hung in +the cabin companionway. Its normal register in the Paumotus was 29.90, +and it was quite customary to see it vacillate between 29.85 and 30.00, +or even 30.05; but to see it as I saw it, down to 29.62, was sufficient +to sober the most drunken pearl buyer that ever incinerated smallpox +microbes in Scotch whiskey. + +I called Captain Oudouse's attention to it, only to be informed that he +had watched it going down for several hours. There was little to do, but +that little he did very well, considering the circumstances. He took +off the light sails, shortened right down to storm canvas, spread life +lines, and waited for the wind. His mistake lay in what he did after the +wind came. He hove to on the port tack, which was the right thing to do +south of the Equator, if--and there was the rub--IF one were NOT in the +direct path of the hurricane. + +We were in the direct path. I could see that by the steady increase of +the wind and the equally steady fall of the barometer. I wanted him +to turn and run with the wind on the port quarter until the barometer +ceased falling, and then to heave to. We argued till he was reduced to +hysteria, but budge he would not. The worst of it was that I could not +get the rest of the pearl buyers to back me up. Who was I, anyway, to +know more about the sea and its ways than a properly qualified captain? +was what was in their minds, I knew. + +Of course, the sea rose with the wind frightfully; and I shall never +forget the first three seas the Petite Jeanne shipped. She had fallen +off, as vessels do at times when hove to, and the first sea made a clean +breach. The life lines were only for the strong and well, and little +good were they even for them when the women and children, the bananas +and cocoanuts, the pigs and trade boxes, the sick and the dying, were +swept along in a solid, screeching, groaning mass. + +The second sea filled the Petite Jeanne's decks flush with the rails; +and, as her stern sank down and her bow tossed skyward, all the +miserable dunnage of life and luggage poured aft. It was a human +torrent. They came head first, feet first, sidewise, rolling over and +over, twisting, squirming, writhing, and crumpling up. Now and again +one caught a grip on a stanchion or a rope; but the weight of the bodies +behind tore such grips loose. + +One man I noticed fetch up, head on and square on, with the starboard +bitt. His head cracked like an egg. I saw what was coming, sprang on top +of the cabin, and from there into the mainsail itself. Ah Choon and one +of the Americans tried to follow me, but I was one jump ahead of them. +The American was swept away and over the stern like a piece of chaff. +Ah Choon caught a spoke of the wheel, and swung in behind it. But a +strapping Raratonga vahine (woman)--she must have weighed two hundred +and fifty--brought up against him, and got an arm around his neck. He +clutched the kanaka steersman with his other hand; and just at that +moment the schooner flung down to starboard. + +The rush of bodies and sea that was coming along the port runway between +the cabin and the rail turned abruptly and poured to starboard. Away +they went--vahine, Ah Choon, and steersman; and I swear I saw Ah Choon +grin at me with philosophic resignation as he cleared the rail and went +under. + +The third sea--the biggest of the three--did not do so much damage. By +the time it arrived nearly everybody was in the rigging. On deck perhaps +a dozen gasping, half-drowned, and half-stunned wretches were rolling +about or attempting to crawl into safety. They went by the board, as +did the wreckage of the two remaining boats. The other pearl buyers and +myself, between seas, managed to get about fifteen women and children +into the cabin, and battened down. Little good it did the poor creatures +in the end. + +Wind? Out of all my experience I could not have believed it possible +for the wind to blow as it did. There is no describing it. How can one +describe a nightmare? It was the same way with that wind. It tore the +clothes off our bodies. I say TORE THEM OFF, and I mean it. I am not +asking you to believe it. I am merely telling something that I saw and +felt. There are times when I do not believe it myself. I went through +it, and that is enough. One could not face that wind and live. It was +a monstrous thing, and the most monstrous thing about it was that it +increased and continued to increase. + +Imagine countless millions and billions of tons of sand. Imagine this +sand tearing along at ninety, a hundred, a hundred and twenty, or +any other number of miles per hour. Imagine, further, this sand to be +invisible, impalpable, yet to retain all the weight and density of sand. +Do all this, and you may get a vague inkling of what that wind was like. + +Perhaps sand is not the right comparison. Consider it mud, invisible, +impalpable, but heavy as mud. Nay, it goes beyond that. Consider every +molecule of air to be a mudbank in itself. Then try to imagine the +multitudinous impact of mudbanks. No; it is beyond me. Language may +be adequate to express the ordinary conditions of life, but it cannot +possibly express any of the conditions of so enormous a blast of wind. +It would have been better had I stuck by my original intention of not +attempting a description. + +I will say this much: The sea, which had risen at first, was beaten down +by that wind. More: it seemed as if the whole ocean had been sucked up +in the maw of the hurricane, and hurled on through that portion of space +which previously had been occupied by the air. + +Of course, our canvas had gone long before. But Captain Oudouse had +on the Petite Jeanne something I had never before seen on a South Sea +schooner--a sea anchor. It was a conical canvas bag, the mouth of +which was kept open by a huge loop of iron. The sea anchor was bridled +something like a kite, so that it bit into the water as a kite bites +into the air, but with a difference. The sea anchor remained just under +the surface of the ocean in a perpendicular position. A long line, in +turn, connected it with the schooner. As a result, the Petite Jeanne +rode bow on to the wind and to what sea there was. + +The situation really would have been favorable had we not been in the +path of the storm. True, the wind itself tore our canvas out of the +gaskets, jerked out our topmasts, and made a raffle of our running gear, +but still we would have come through nicely had we not been square in +front of the advancing storm center. That was what fixed us. I was in a +state of stunned, numbed, paralyzed collapse from enduring the impact of +the wind, and I think I was just about ready to give up and die when the +center smote us. The blow we received was an absolute lull. There was +not a breath of air. The effect on one was sickening. + +Remember that for hours we had been at terrific muscular tension, +withstanding the awful pressure of that wind. And then, suddenly, +the pressure was removed. I know that I felt as though I was about +to expand, to fly apart in all directions. It seemed as if every atom +composing my body was repelling every other atom and was on the verge of +rushing off irresistibly into space. But that lasted only for a moment. +Destruction was upon us. + +In the absence of the wind and pressure the sea rose. It jumped, it +leaped, it soared straight toward the clouds. Remember, from every point +of the compass that inconceivable wind was blowing in toward the center +of calm. The result was that the seas sprang up from every point of +the compass. There was no wind to check them. They popped up like corks +released from the bottom of a pail of water. There was no system to +them, no stability. They were hollow, maniacal seas. They were eighty +feet high at the least. They were not seas at all. They resembled no sea +a man had ever seen. + +They were splashes, monstrous splashes--that is all. Splashes that were +eighty feet high. Eighty! They were more than eighty. They went over our +mastheads. They were spouts, explosions. They were drunken. They fell +anywhere, anyhow. They jostled one another; they collided. They rushed +together and collapsed upon one another, or fell apart like a thousand +waterfalls all at once. It was no ocean any man had ever dreamed of, +that hurricane center. It was confusion thrice confounded. It was +anarchy. It was a hell pit of sea water gone mad. + +The Petite Jeanne? I don't know. The heathen told me afterwards that +he did not know. She was literally torn apart, ripped wide open, beaten +into a pulp, smashed into kindling wood, annihilated. When I came to I +was in the water, swimming automatically, though I was about two-thirds +drowned. How I got there I had no recollection. I remembered seeing the +Petite Jeanne fly to pieces at what must have been the instant that my +own consciousness was buffeted out of me. But there I was, with nothing +to do but make the best of it, and in that best there was little +promise. The wind was blowing again, the sea was much smaller and more +regular, and I knew that I had passed through the center. Fortunately, +there were no sharks about. The hurricane had dissipated the ravenous +horde that had surrounded the death ship and fed off the dead. + +It was about midday when the Petite Jeanne went to pieces, and it must +have been two hours afterwards when I picked up with one of her hatch +covers. Thick rain was driving at the time; and it was the merest chance +that flung me and the hatch cover together. A short length of line was +trailing from the rope handle; and I knew that I was good for a day, +at least, if the sharks did not return. Three hours later, possibly +a little longer, sticking close to the cover, and with closed eyes, +concentrating my whole soul upon the task of breathing in enough air to +keep me going and at the same time of avoiding breathing in enough water +to drown me, it seemed to me that I heard voices. The rain had ceased, +and wind and sea were easing marvelously. Not twenty feet away from me, +on another hatch cover were Captain Oudouse and the heathen. They were +fighting over the possession of the cover--at least, the Frenchman was. +“Paien noir!” I heard him scream, and at the same time I saw him kick +the kanaka. + +Now, Captain Oudouse had lost all his clothes, except his shoes, and +they were heavy brogans. It was a cruel blow, for it caught the heathen +on the mouth and the point of the chin, half stunning him. I looked for +him to retaliate, but he contented himself with swimming about forlornly +a safe ten feet away. Whenever a fling of the sea threw him closer, the +Frenchman, hanging on with his hands, kicked out at him with both feet. +Also, at the moment of delivering each kick, he called the kanaka a +black heathen. + +“For two centimes I'd come over there and drown you, you white beast!” I +yelled. + +The only reason I did not go was that I felt too tired. The very thought +of the effort to swim over was nauseating. So I called to the kanaka to +come to me, and proceeded to share the hatch cover with him. Otoo, he +told me his name was (pronounced o-to-o ); also, he told me that he +was a native of Bora Bora, the most westerly of the Society Group. As +I learned afterward, he had got the hatch cover first, and, after some +time, encountering Captain Oudouse, had offered to share it with him, +and had been kicked off for his pains. + +And that was how Otoo and I first came together. He was no fighter. +He was all sweetness and gentleness, a love creature, though he stood +nearly six feet tall and was muscled like a gladiator. He was no +fighter, but he was also no coward. He had the heart of a lion; and in +the years that followed I have seen him run risks that I would never +dream of taking. What I mean is that while he was no fighter, and while +he always avoided precipitating a row, he never ran away from trouble +when it started. And it was “Ware shoal!” when once Otoo went into +action. I shall never forget what he did to Bill King. It occurred +in German Samoa. Bill King was hailed the champion heavyweight of the +American Navy. He was a big brute of a man, a veritable gorilla, one of +those hard-hitting, rough-housing chaps, and clever with his fists as +well. He picked the quarrel, and he kicked Otoo twice and struck him +once before Otoo felt it to be necessary to fight. I don't think it +lasted four minutes, at the end of which time Bill King was the unhappy +possessor of four broken ribs, a broken forearm, and a dislocated +shoulder blade. Otoo knew nothing of scientific boxing. He was merely a +manhandler; and Bill King was something like three months in recovering +from the bit of manhandling he received that afternoon on Apia beach. + +But I am running ahead of my yarn. We shared the hatch cover between us. +We took turn and turn about, one lying flat on the cover and resting, +while the other, submerged to the neck, merely held on with his hands. +For two days and nights, spell and spell, on the cover and in the water, +we drifted over the ocean. Towards the last I was delirious most of the +time; and there were times, too, when I heard Otoo babbling and raving +in his native tongue. Our continuous immersion prevented us from dying +of thirst, though the sea water and the sunshine gave us the prettiest +imaginable combination of salt pickle and sunburn. + +In the end, Otoo saved my life; for I came to lying on the beach twenty +feet from the water, sheltered from the sun by a couple of cocoanut +leaves. No one but Otoo could have dragged me there and stuck up the +leaves for shade. He was lying beside me. I went off again; and the next +time I came round, it was cool and starry night, and Otoo was pressing a +drinking cocoanut to my lips. + +We were the sole survivors of the Petite Jeanne. Captain Oudouse must +have succumbed to exhaustion, for several days later his hatch cover +drifted ashore without him. Otoo and I lived with the natives of the +atoll for a week, when we were rescued by the French cruiser and taken +to Tahiti. In the meantime, however, we had performed the ceremony of +exchanging names. In the South Seas such a ceremony binds two men closer +together than blood brothership. The initiative had been mine; and Otoo +was rapturously delighted when I suggested it. + +“It is well,” he said, in Tahitian. “For we have been mates together for +two days on the lips of Death.” + +“But death stuttered,” I smiled. + +“It was a brave deed you did, master,” he replied, “and Death was not +vile enough to speak.” + +“Why do you 'master' me?” I demanded, with a show of hurt feelings. +“We have exchanged names. To you I am Otoo. To me you are Charley. And +between you and me, forever and forever, you shall be Charley, and I +shall be Otoo. It is the way of the custom. And when we die, if it does +happen that we live again somewhere beyond the stars and the sky, still +shall you be Charley to me, and I Otoo to you.” + +“Yes, master,” he answered, his eyes luminous and soft with joy. + +“There you go!” I cried indignantly. + +“What does it matter what my lips utter?” he argued. “They are only my +lips. But I shall think Otoo always. Whenever I think of myself, I shall +think of you. Whenever men call me by name, I shall think of you. And +beyond the sky and beyond the stars, always and forever, you shall be +Otoo to me. Is it well, master?” + +I hid my smile, and answered that it was well. + +We parted at Papeete. I remained ashore to recuperate; and he went on +in a cutter to his own island, Bora Bora. Six weeks later he was back. +I was surprised, for he had told me of his wife, and said that he was +returning to her, and would give over sailing on far voyages. + +“Where do you go, master?” he asked, after our first greetings. + +I shrugged my shoulders. It was a hard question. + +“All the world,” was my answer--“all the world, all the sea, and all the +islands that are in the sea.” + +“I will go with you,” he said simply. “My wife is dead.” + +I never had a brother; but from what I have seen of other men's +brothers, I doubt if any man ever had a brother that was to him what +Otoo was to me. He was brother and father and mother as well. And this +I know: I lived a straighter and better man because of Otoo. I cared +little for other men, but I had to live straight in Otoo's eyes. Because +of him I dared not tarnish myself. He made me his ideal, compounding +me, I fear, chiefly out of his own love and worship and there were times +when I stood close to the steep pitch of hell, and would have taken +the plunge had not the thought of Otoo restrained me. His pride in me +entered into me, until it became one of the major rules in my personal +code to do nothing that would diminish that pride of his. + +Naturally, I did not learn right away what his feelings were toward me. +He never criticized, never censured; and slowly the exalted place I held +in his eyes dawned upon me, and slowly I grew to comprehend the hurt I +could inflict upon him by being anything less than my best. + +For seventeen years we were together; for seventeen years he was at +my shoulder, watching while I slept, nursing me through fever and +wounds--ay, and receiving wounds in fighting for me. He signed on the +same ships with me; and together we ranged the Pacific from Hawaii to +Sydney Head, and from Torres Straits to the Galapagos. We blackbirded +from the New Hebrides and the Line Islands over to the westward clear +through the Louisades, New Britain, New Ireland, and New Hanover. We +were wrecked three times--in the Gilberts, in the Santa Cruz group, and +in the Fijis. And we traded and salved wherever a dollar promised in +the way of pearl and pearl shell, copra, beche-de-mer, hawkbill turtle +shell, and stranded wrecks. + +It began in Papeete, immediately after his announcement that he was +going with me over all the sea, and the islands in the midst thereof. +There was a club in those days in Papeete, where the pearlers, traders, +captains, and riffraff of South Sea adventurers forgathered. The play +ran high, and the drink ran high; and I am very much afraid that I kept +later hours than were becoming or proper. No matter what the hour was +when I left the club, there was Otoo waiting to see me safely home. + +At first I smiled; next I chided him. Then I told him flatly that I +stood in need of no wet-nursing. After that I did not see him when +I came out of the club. Quite by accident, a week or so later, I +discovered that he still saw me home, lurking across the street among +the shadows of the mango trees. What could I do? I know what I did do. + +Insensibly I began to keep better hours. On wet and stormy nights, in +the thick of the folly and the fun, the thought would persist in coming +to me of Otoo keeping his dreary vigil under the dripping mangoes. +Truly, he made a better man of me. Yet he was not strait-laced. And he +knew nothing of common Christian morality. All the people on Bora +Bora were Christians; but he was a heathen, the only unbeliever on the +island, a gross materialist, who believed that when he died he was dead. +He believed merely in fair play and square dealing. Petty meanness, in +his code, was almost as serious as wanton homicide; and I do believe +that he respected a murderer more than a man given to small practices. + +Concerning me, personally, he objected to my doing anything that was +hurtful to me. Gambling was all right. He was an ardent gambler himself. +But late hours, he explained, were bad for one's health. He had seen men +who did not take care of themselves die of fever. He was no teetotaler, +and welcomed a stiff nip any time when it was wet work in the boats. On +the other hand, he believed in liquor in moderation. He had seen many +men killed or disgraced by square-face or Scotch. + +Otoo had my welfare always at heart. He thought ahead for me, weighed my +plans, and took a greater interest in them than I did myself. At first, +when I was unaware of this interest of his in my affairs, he had to +divine my intentions, as, for instance, at Papeete, when I contemplated +going partners with a knavish fellow-countryman on a guano venture. I +did not know he was a knave. Nor did any white man in Papeete. Neither +did Otoo know, but he saw how thick we were getting, and found out for +me, and without my asking him. Native sailors from the ends of the seas +knock about on the beach in Tahiti; and Otoo, suspicious merely, +went among them till he had gathered sufficient data to justify his +suspicions. Oh, it was a nice history, that of Randolph Waters. I +couldn't believe it when Otoo first narrated it; but when I sheeted it +home to Waters he gave in without a murmur, and got away on the first +steamer to Aukland. + +At first, I am free to confess, I couldn't help resenting Otoo's poking +his nose into my business. But I knew that he was wholly unselfish; and +soon I had to acknowledge his wisdom and discretion. He had his +eyes open always to my main chance, and he was both keen-sighted and +far-sighted. In time he became my counselor, until he knew more of my +business than I did myself. He really had my interest at heart more than +I did. Mine was the magnificent carelessness of youth, for I preferred +romance to dollars, and adventure to a comfortable billet with all night +in. So it was well that I had some one to look out for me. I know that +if it had not been for Otoo, I should not be here today. + +Of numerous instances, let me give one. I had had some experience in +blackbirding before I went pearling in the Paumotus. Otoo and I were on +the beach in Samoa--we really were on the beach and hard aground--when +my chance came to go as recruiter on a blackbird brig. Otoo signed on +before the mast; and for the next half-dozen years, in as many ships, we +knocked about the wildest portions of Melanesia. Otoo saw to it that he +always pulled stroke-oar in my boat. Our custom in recruiting labor was +to land the recruiter on the beach. The covering boat always lay on its +oars several hundred feet off shore, while the recruiter's boat, also +lying on its oars, kept afloat on the edge of the beach. When I landed +with my trade goods, leaving my steering sweep apeak, Otoo left his +stroke position and came into the stern sheets, where a Winchester lay +ready to hand under a flap of canvas. The boat's crew was also armed, +the Sniders concealed under canvas flaps that ran the length of the +gunwales. + +While I was busy arguing and persuading the woolly-headed cannibals to +come and labor on the Queensland plantations Otoo kept watch. And often +and often his low voice warned me of suspicious actions and impending +treachery. Sometimes it was the quick shot from his rifle, knocking a +nigger over, that was the first warning I received. And in my rush to +the boat his hand was always there to jerk me flying aboard. Once, I +remember, on SANTA ANNA, the boat grounded just as the trouble began. +The covering boat was dashing to our assistance, but the several score +of savages would have wiped us out before it arrived. Otoo took a flying +leap ashore, dug both hands into the trade goods, and scattered tobacco, +beads, tomahawks, knives, and calicoes in all directions. + +This was too much for the woolly-heads. While they scrambled for the +treasures, the boat was shoved clear, and we were aboard and forty feet +away. And I got thirty recruits off that very beach in the next four +hours. + +The particular instance I have in mind was on Malaita, the most savage +island in the easterly Solomons. The natives had been remarkably +friendly; and how were we to know that the whole village had been taking +up a collection for over two years with which to buy a white man's head? +The beggars are all head-hunters, and they especially esteem a white +man's head. The fellow who captured the head would receive the whole +collection. As I say, they appeared very friendly; and on this day I was +fully a hundred yards down the beach from the boat. Otoo had cautioned +me; and, as usual when I did not heed him, I came to grief. + +The first I knew, a cloud of spears sailed out of the mangrove swamp +at me. At least a dozen were sticking into me. I started to run, +but tripped over one that was fast in my calf, and went down. The +woolly-heads made a run for me, each with a long-handled, fantail +tomahawk with which to hack off my head. They were so eager for the +prize that they got in one another's way. In the confusion, I avoided +several hacks by throwing myself right and left on the sand. + +Then Otoo arrived--Otoo the manhandler. In some way he had got hold of a +heavy war club, and at close quarters it was a far more efficient weapon +than a rifle. He was right in the thick of them, so that they could +not spear him, while their tomahawks seemed worse than useless. He was +fighting for me, and he was in a true Berserker rage. The way he handled +that club was amazing. + +Their skulls squashed like overripe oranges. It was not until he had +driven them back, picked me up in his arms, and started to run, that +he received his first wounds. He arrived in the boat with four spear +thrusts, got his Winchester, and with it got a man for every shot. Then +we pulled aboard the schooner, and doctored up. + +Seventeen years we were together. He made me. I should today be a +supercargo, a recruiter, or a memory, if it had not been for him. + +“You spend your money, and you go out and get more,” he said one day. +“It is easy to get money now. But when you get old, your money will be +spent, and you will not be able to go out and get more. I know, master. +I have studied the way of white men. On the beaches are many old men +who were young once, and who could get money just like you. Now they are +old, and they have nothing, and they wait about for the young men like +you to come ashore and buy drinks for them. + +“The black boy is a slave on the plantations. He gets twenty dollars a +year. He works hard. The overseer does not work hard. He rides a horse +and watches the black boy work. He gets twelve hundred dollars a year. +I am a sailor on the schooner. I get fifteen dollars a month. That +is because I am a good sailor. I work hard. The captain has a double +awning, and drinks beer out of long bottles. I have never seen him haul +a rope or pull an oar. He gets one hundred and fifty dollars a month. +I am a sailor. He is a navigator. Master, I think it would be very good +for you to know navigation.” + +Otoo spurred me on to it. He sailed with me as second mate on my first +schooner, and he was far prouder of my command than I was myself. Later +on it was: + +“The captain is well paid, master; but the ship is in his keeping, +and he is never free from the burden. It is the owner who is better +paid--the owner who sits ashore with many servants and turns his money +over.” + +“True, but a schooner costs five thousand dollars--an old schooner at +that,” I objected. “I should be an old man before I saved five thousand +dollars.” + +“There be short ways for white men to make money,” he went on, pointing +ashore at the cocoanut-fringed beach. + +We were in the Solomons at the time, picking up a cargo of ivory nuts +along the east coast of Guadalcanar. + +“Between this river mouth and the next it is two miles,” he said. + +“The flat land runs far back. It is worth nothing now. Next year--who +knows?--or the year after, men will pay much money for that land. The +anchorage is good. Big steamers can lie close up. You can buy the land +four miles deep from the old chief for ten thousand sticks of tobacco, +ten bottles of square-face, and a Snider, which will cost you, maybe, +one hundred dollars. Then you place the deed with the commissioner; and +the next year, or the year after, you sell and become the owner of a +ship.” + +I followed his lead, and his words came true, though in three years, +instead of two. Next came the grasslands deal on Guadalcanar--twenty +thousand acres, on a governmental nine hundred and ninety-nine years' +lease at a nominal sum. I owned the lease for precisely ninety days, +when I sold it to a company for half a fortune. Always it was Otoo who +looked ahead and saw the opportunity. He was responsible for the +salving of the Doncaster--bought in at auction for a hundred pounds, and +clearing three thousand after every expense was paid. He led me into the +Savaii plantation and the cocoa venture on Upolu. + +We did not go seafaring so much as in the old days. I was too well off. +I married, and my standard of living rose; but Otoo remained the same +old-time Otoo, moving about the house or trailing through the office, +his wooden pipe in his mouth, a shilling undershirt on his back, and a +four-shilling lava-lava about his loins. I could not get him to spend +money. There was no way of repaying him except with love, and God knows +he got that in full measure from all of us. The children worshipped +him; and if he had been spoilable, my wife would surely have been his +undoing. + +The children! He really was the one who showed them the way of their +feet in the world practical. He began by teaching them to walk. He sat +up with them when they were sick. One by one, when they were scarcely +toddlers, he took them down to the lagoon, and made them into +amphibians. He taught them more than I ever knew of the habits of fish +and the ways of catching them. In the bush it was the same thing. At +seven, Tom knew more woodcraft than I ever dreamed existed. At six, Mary +went over the Sliding Rock without a quiver, and I have seen strong men +balk at that feat. And when Frank had just turned six he could bring up +shillings from the bottom in three fathoms. + +“My people in Bora Bora do not like heathen--they are all Christians; +and I do not like Bora Bora Christians,” he said one day, when I, with +the idea of getting him to spend some of the money that was rightfully +his, had been trying to persuade him to make a visit to his own island +in one of our schooners--a special voyage which I had hoped to make a +record breaker in the matter of prodigal expense. + +I say one of OUR schooners, though legally at the time they belonged to +me. I struggled long with him to enter into partnership. + +“We have been partners from the day the Petite Jeanne went down,” + he said at last. “But if your heart so wishes, then shall we become +partners by the law. I have no work to do, yet are my expenses large. I +drink and eat and smoke in plenty--it costs much, I know. I do not pay +for the playing of billiards, for I play on your table; but still the +money goes. Fishing on the reef is only a rich man's pleasure. It is +shocking, the cost of hooks and cotton line. Yes; it is necessary that +we be partners by the law. I need the money. I shall get it from the +head clerk in the office.” + +So the papers were made out and recorded. A year later I was compelled +to complain. + +“Charley,” said I, “you are a wicked old fraud, a miserly skinflint, +a miserable land crab. Behold, your share for the year in all our +partnership has been thousands of dollars. The head clerk has given me +this paper. It says that in the year you have drawn just eighty-seven +dollars and twenty cents.” + +“Is there any owing me?” he asked anxiously. + +“I tell you thousands and thousands,” I answered. + +His face brightened, as with an immense relief. + +“It is well,” he said. “See that the head clerk keeps good account +of it. When I want it, I shall want it, and there must not be a cent +missing. + +“If there is,” he added fiercely, after a pause, “it must come out of +the clerk's wages.” + +And all the time, as I afterwards learned, his will, drawn up by +Carruthers, and making me sole beneficiary, lay in the American consul's +safe. + +But the end came, as the end must come to all human associations. + +It occurred in the Solomons, where our wildest work had been done in the +wild young days, and where we were once more--principally on a holiday, +incidentally to look after our holdings on Florida Island and to look +over the pearling possibilities of the Mboli Pass. We were lying at +Savo, having run in to trade for curios. + +Now, Savo is alive with sharks. The custom of the woolly-heads of +burying their dead in the sea did not tend to discourage the sharks from +making the adjacent waters a hangout. It was my luck to be coming aboard +in a tiny, overloaded, native canoe, when the thing capsized. There +were four woolly-heads and myself in it, or rather, hanging to it. The +schooner was a hundred yards away. + +I was just hailing for a boat when one of the woolly-heads began to +scream. Holding on to the end of the canoe, both he and that portion of +the canoe were dragged under several times. Then he loosed his clutch +and disappeared. A shark had got him. + +The three remaining niggers tried to climb out of the water upon the +bottom of the canoe. I yelled and cursed and struck at the nearest with +my fist, but it was no use. They were in a blind funk. The canoe could +barely have supported one of them. Under the three it upended and rolled +sidewise, throwing them back into the water. + +I abandoned the canoe and started to swim toward the schooner, expecting +to be picked up by the boat before I got there. One of the niggers +elected to come with me, and we swam along silently, side by side, now +and again putting our faces into the water and peering about for sharks. +The screams of the man who stayed by the canoe informed us that he was +taken. I was peering into the water when I saw a big shark pass directly +beneath me. He was fully sixteen feet in length. I saw the whole thing. +He got the woolly-head by the middle, and away he went, the poor devil, +head, shoulders, and arms out of the water all the time, screeching in +a heart-rending way. He was carried along in this fashion for several +hundred feet, when he was dragged beneath the surface. + +I swam doggedly on, hoping that that was the last unattached shark. +But there was another. Whether it was one that had attacked the natives +earlier, or whether it was one that had made a good meal elsewhere, I do +not know. At any rate, he was not in such haste as the others. I could +not swim so rapidly now, for a large part of my effort was devoted to +keeping track of him. I was watching him when he made his first attack. +By good luck I got both hands on his nose, and, though his momentum +nearly shoved me under, I managed to keep him off. He veered clear, +and began circling about again. A second time I escaped him by the same +manoeuvre. The third rush was a miss on both sides. He sheered at the +moment my hands should have landed on his nose, but his sandpaper hide +(I had on a sleeveless undershirt) scraped the skin off one arm from +elbow to shoulder. + +By this time I was played out, and gave up hope. The schooner was still +two hundred feet away. My face was in the water, and I was watching him +manoeuvre for another attempt, when I saw a brown body pass between us. +It was Otoo. + +“Swim for the schooner, master!” he said. And he spoke gayly, as though +the affair was a mere lark. “I know sharks. The shark is my brother.” + +I obeyed, swimming slowly on, while Otoo swam about me, keeping always +between me and the shark, foiling his rushes and encouraging me. + +“The davit tackle carried away, and they are rigging the falls,” he +explained, a minute or so later, and then went under to head off another +attack. + +By the time the schooner was thirty feet away I was about done for. I +could scarcely move. They were heaving lines at us from on board, but +they continually fell short. The shark, finding that it was receiving no +hurt, had become bolder. Several times it nearly got me, but each time +Otoo was there just the moment before it was too late. Of course, Otoo +could have saved himself any time. But he stuck by me. + +“Good-by, Charley! I'm finished!” I just managed to gasp. + +I knew that the end had come, and that the next moment I should throw up +my hands and go down. + +But Otoo laughed in my face, saying: + +“I will show you a new trick. I will make that shark feel sick!” + +He dropped in behind me, where the shark was preparing to come at me. + +“A little more to the left!” he next called out. “There is a line there +on the water. To the left, master--to the left!” + +I changed my course and struck out blindly. I was by that time barely +conscious. As my hand closed on the line I heard an exclamation from on +board. I turned and looked. There was no sign of Otoo. The next instant +he broke surface. Both hands were off at the wrist, the stumps spouting +blood. + +“Otoo!” he called softly. And I could see in his gaze the love that +thrilled in his voice. + +Then, and then only, at the very last of all our years, he called me by +that name. + +“Good-by, Otoo!” he called. + +Then he was dragged under, and I was hauled aboard, where I fainted in +the captain's arms. + +And so passed Otoo, who saved me and made me a man, and who saved me in +the end. We met in the maw of a hurricane, and parted in the maw of +a shark, with seventeen intervening years of comradeship, the like of +which I dare to assert has never befallen two men, the one brown and the +other white. If Jehovah be from His high place watching every sparrow +fall, not least in His kingdom shall be Otoo, the one heathen of Bora +Bora. + + + + +THE TERRIBLE SOLOMONS + +There is no gainsaying that the Solomons are a hard-bitten bunch of +islands. On the other hand, there are worse places in the world. But to +the new chum who has no constitutional understanding of men and life in +the rough, the Solomons may indeed prove terrible. + +It is true that fever and dysentery are perpetually on the walk-about, +that loathsome skin diseases abound, that the air is saturated with a +poison that bites into every pore, cut, or abrasion and plants malignant +ulcers, and that many strong men who escape dying there return as wrecks +to their own countries. It is also true that the natives of the Solomons +are a wild lot, with a hearty appetite for human flesh and a fad for +collecting human heads. Their highest instinct of sportsmanship is to +catch a man with his back turned and to smite him a cunning blow with a +tomahawk that severs the spinal column at the base of the brain. It is +equally true that on some islands, such as Malaita, the profit and loss +account of social intercourse is calculated in homicides. Heads are a +medium of exchange, and white heads are extremely valuable. Very often a +dozen villages make a jack-pot, which they fatten moon by moon, against +the time when some brave warrior presents a white man's head, fresh and +gory, and claims the pot. + +All the foregoing is quite true, and yet there are white men who have +lived in the Solomons a score of years and who feel homesick when they +go away from them. A man needs only to be careful--and lucky--to live +a long time in the Solomons; but he must also be of the right sort. +He must have the hallmark of the inevitable white man stamped upon his +soul. He must be inevitable. He must have a certain grand carelessness +of odds, a certain colossal self-satisfaction, and a racial egotism that +convinces him that one white is better than a thousand niggers every +day in the week, and that on Sunday he is able to clean out two +thousand niggers. For such are the things that have made the white man +inevitable. Oh, and one other thing--the white man who wishes to be +inevitable, must not merely despise the lesser breeds and think a lot +of himself; he must also fail to be too long on imagination. He must not +understand too well the instincts, customs, and mental processes of the +blacks, the yellows, and the browns; for it is not in such fashion that +the white race has tramped its royal road around the world. + +Bertie Arkwright was not inevitable. He was too sensitive, too finely +strung, and he possessed too much imagination. The world was too much +with him. He projected himself too quiveringly into his environment. +Therefore, the last place in the world for him to come was the Solomons. +He did not come, expecting to stay. A five weeks' stop-over between +steamers, he decided, would satisfy the call of the primitive he felt +thrumming the strings of his being. At least, so he told the lady +tourists on the MAKEMBO, though in different terms; and they worshipped +him as a hero, for they were lady tourists and they would know only +the safety of the steamer's deck as she threaded her way through the +Solomons. + +There was another man on board, of whom the ladies took no notice. He +was a little shriveled wisp of a man, with a withered skin the color of +mahogany. His name on the passenger list does not matter, but his other +name, Captain Malu, was a name for niggers to conjure with, and to +scare naughty pickaninnies to righteousness from New Hanover to the +New Hebrides. He had farmed savages and savagery, and from fever and +hardship, the crack of Sniders and the lash of the overseers, had +wrested five millions of money in the form of bêche-de-mer, sandalwood, +pearl-shell and turtle-shell, ivory nuts and copra, grasslands, trading +stations, and plantations. Captain Malu's little finger, which was +broken, had more inevitableness in it than Bertie Arkwright's whole +carcass. But then, the lady tourists had nothing by which to judge save +appearances, and Bertie certainly was a fine-looking man. + +Bertie talked with Captain Malu in the smoking room, confiding to him +his intention of seeing life red and bleeding in the Solomons. Captain +Malu agreed that the intention was ambitious and honorable. It was not +until several days later that he became interested in Bertie, when that +young adventurer insisted on showing him an automatic 44-caliber pistol. +Bertie explained the mechanism and demonstrated by slipping a loaded +magazine up the hollow butt. + +“It is so simple,” he said. He shot the outer barrel back along the +inner one. “That loads it and cocks it, you see. And then all I have to +do is pull the trigger, eight times, as fast as I can quiver my finger. +See that safety clutch. That's what I like about it. It is safe. It is +positively fool-proof.” He slipped out the magazine. “You see how safe +it is.” + +As he held it in his hand, the muzzle came in line with Captain Malu's +stomach. Captain Malu's blue eyes looked at it unswervingly. + +“Would you mind pointing it in some other direction?” he asked. + +“It's perfectly safe,” Bertie assured him. “I withdrew the magazine. +It's not loaded now, you know.” + +“A gun is always loaded.” + +“But this one isn't.” + +“Turn it away just the same.” + +Captain Malu's voice was flat and metallic and low, but his eyes never +left the muzzle until the line of it was drawn past him and away from +him. + +“I'll bet a fiver it isn't loaded,” Bertie proposed warmly. + +The other shook his head. + +“Then I'll show you.” + +Bertie started to put the muzzle to his own temple with the evident +intention of pulling the trigger. + +“Just a second,” Captain Malu said quietly, reaching out his hand. “Let +me look at it.” + +He pointed it seaward and pulled the trigger. A heavy explosion +followed, instantaneous with the sharp click of the mechanism that +flipped a hot and smoking cartridge sidewise along the deck. + +Bertie's jaw dropped in amazement. + +“I slipped the barrel back once, didn't I?” he explained. “It was silly +of me, I must say.” + +He giggled flabbily, and sat down in a steamer chair. The blood had +ebbed from his face, exposing dark circles under his eyes. His hands +were trembling and unable to guide the shaking cigarette to his lips. +The world was too much with him, and he saw himself with dripping brains +prone upon the deck. + +“Really,” he said, “... really.” + +“It's a pretty weapon,” said Captain Malu, returning the automatic to +him. + +The Commissioner was on board the Makembo, returning from Sydney, and by +his permission a stop was made at Ugi to land a missionary. And at Ugi +lay the ketch ARLA, Captain Hansen, skipper. Now the Arla was one of +many vessels owned by Captain Malu, and it was at his suggestion and +by his invitation that Bertie went aboard the Arla as guest for a four +days' recruiting cruise on the coast of Malaita. Thereafter the ARLA +would drop him at Reminge Plantation (also owned by Captain Malu), where +Bertie could remain for a week, and then be sent over to Tulagi, the +seat of government, where he would become the Commissioner's guest. +Captain Malu was responsible for two other suggestions, which given, he +disappears from this narrative. One was to Captain Hansen, the other +to Mr. Harriwell, manager of Reminge Plantation. Both suggestions were +similar in tenor, namely, to give Mr. Bertram Arkwright an insight into +the rawness and redness of life in the Solomons. Also, it is whispered +that Captain Malu mentioned that a case of Scotch would be +coincidental with any particularly gorgeous insight Mr. Arkwright might +receive............. + +“Yes, Swartz always was too pig-headed. You see, he took four of his +boat's crew to Tulagi to be flogged--officially, you know--then started +back with them in the whaleboat. It was pretty squally, and the boat +capsized just outside. Swartz was the only one drowned. Of course, it +was an accident.” + +“Was it? Really?” Bertie asked, only half-interested, staring hard at +the black man at the wheel. + +Ugi had dropped astern, and the ARLA was sliding along through a summer +sea toward the wooded ranges of Malaita. The helmsman who so attracted +Bertie's eyes sported a ten penny nail, stuck skewerwise through his +nose. About his neck was a string of pants buttons. Thrust through holes +in his ears were a can opener, the broken handle of a toothbrush, a clay +pipe, the brass wheel of an alarm clock, and several Winchester rifle +cartridges. + +On his chest, suspended from around his neck hung the half of a china +plate. Some forty similarly appareled blacks lay about the deck, fifteen +of which were boat's crew, the remainder being fresh labor recruits. + +“Of course it was an accident,” spoke up the ARLA'S mate, Jacobs, +a slender, dark-eyed man who looked more a professor than a sailor. +“Johnny Bedip nearly had the same kind of accident. He was bringing back +several from a flogging, when they capsized him. But he knew how to swim +as well as they, and two of them were drowned. He used a boat stretcher +and a revolver. Of course it was an accident.” + +“Quite common, them accidents,” remarked the skipper. “You see that man +at the wheel, Mr. Arkwright? He's a man eater. Six months ago, he and +the rest of the boat's crew drowned the then captain of the ARLA. They +did it on deck, sir, right aft there by the mizzen-traveler.” + +“The deck was in a shocking state,” said the mate. + +“Do I understand--?” Bertie began. + +“Yes, just that,” said Captain Hansen. “It was an accidental drowning.” + +“But on deck--?” + +“Just so. I don't mind telling you, in confidence, of course, that they +used an axe.” + +“This present crew of yours?” + +Captain Hansen nodded. + +“The other skipper always was too careless,” explained the mate. “He but +just turned his back, when they let him have it.” + +“We haven't any show down here,” was the skipper's complaint. “The +government protects a nigger against a white every time. You can't shoot +first. You've got to give the nigger first shot, or else the government +calls it murder and you go to Fiji. That's why there's so many drowning +accidents.” + +Dinner was called, and Bertie and the skipper went below, leaving the +mate to watch on deck. + +“Keep an eye out for that black devil, Auiki,” was the skipper's parting +caution. “I haven't liked his looks for several days.” + +“Right O,” said the mate. + +Dinner was part way along, and the skipper was in the middle of his +story of the cutting out of the Scottish Chiefs. + +“Yes,” he was saying, “she was the finest vessel on the coast. But when +she missed stays, and before ever she hit the reef, the canoes started +for her. There were five white men, a crew of twenty Santa Cruz boys +and Samoans, and only the supercargo escaped. Besides, there were sixty +recruits. They were all kai-kai'd. Kai-kai?--oh, I beg your pardon. +I mean they were eaten. Then there was the James Edwards, a +dandy-rigged--” + +But at that moment there was a sharp oath from the mate on deck and a +chorus of savage cries. A revolver went off three times, and then was +heard a loud splash. Captain Hansen had sprung up the companionway on +the instant, and Bertie's eyes had been fascinated by a glimpse of him +drawing his revolver as he sprang. + +Bertie went up more circumspectly, hesitating before he put his head +above the companionway slide. But nothing happened. The mate was +shaking with excitement, his revolver in his hand. Once he startled, and +half-jumped around, as if danger threatened his back. + +“One of the natives fell overboard,” he was saying, in a queer tense +voice. “He couldn't swim.” + +“Who was it?” the skipper demanded. + +“Auiki,” was the answer. + +“But I say, you know, I heard shots,” Bertie said, in trembling +eagerness, for he scented adventure, and adventure that was happily over +with. + +The mate whirled upon him, snarling: + +“It's a damned lie. There ain't been a shot fired. The nigger fell +overboard.” + +Captain Hansen regarded Bertie with unblinking, lack-luster eyes. + +“I--I thought--” Bertie was beginning. + +“Shots?” said Captain Hansen, dreamily. “Shots? Did you hear any shots, +Mr. Jacobs?” + +“Not a shot,” replied Mr. Jacobs. + +The skipper looked at his guest triumphantly, and said: + +“Evidently an accident. Let us go down, Mr. Arkwright, and finish +dinner.” + +Bertie slept that night in the captain's cabin, a tiny stateroom off the +main cabin. The for'ard bulkhead was decorated with a stand of rifles. +Over the bunk were three more rifles. Under the bunk was a big drawer, +which, when he pulled it out, he found filled with ammunition, dynamite, +and several boxes of detonators. He elected to take the settee on the +opposite side. Lying conspicuously on the small table, was the Arla's +log. Bertie did not know that it had been especially prepared for the +occasion by Captain Malu, and he read therein how on September 21, two +boat's crew had fallen overboard and been drowned. Bertie read between +the lines and knew better. He read how the Arla's whale boat had +been bushwhacked at Su'u and had lost three men; of how the skipper +discovered the cook stewing human flesh on the galley fire--flesh +purchased by the boat's crew ashore in Fui; of how an accidental +discharge of dynamite, while signaling, had killed another boat's crew; +of night attacks; ports fled from between the dawns; attacks by bushmen +in mangrove swamps and by fleets of salt-water men in the larger +passages. One item that occurred with monotonous frequency was death by +dysentery. He noticed with alarm that two white men had so died--guests, +like himself, on the Arla. + +“I say, you know,” Bertie said next day to Captain Hansen. “I've been +glancing through your log.” + +The skipper displayed quick vexation that the log had been left lying +about. + +“And all that dysentery, you know, that's all rot, just like the +accidental drownings,” Bertie continued. “What does dysentery really +stand for?” + +The skipper openly admired his guest's acumen, stiffened himself to make +indignant denial, then gracefully surrendered. + +“You see, it's like this, Mr. Arkwright. These islands have got a bad +enough name as it is. It's getting harder every day to sign on white +men. Suppose a man is killed. The company has to pay through the nose +for another man to take the job. But if the man merely dies of sickness, +it's all right. The new chums don't mind disease. What they draw the +line at is being murdered. I thought the skipper of the Arla had died of +dysentery when I took his billet. Then it was too late. I'd signed the +contract.” + +“Besides,” said Mr. Jacobs, “there's altogether too many accidental +drownings anyway. It don't look right. It's the fault of the government. +A white man hasn't a chance to defend himself from the niggers.” + +“Yes, look at the Princess and that Yankee mate,” the skipper took up +the tale. “She carried five white men besides a government agent. The +captain, the agent, and the supercargo were ashore in the two boats. +They were killed to the last man. The mate and boson, with about fifteen +of the crew--Samoans and Tongans--were on board. A crowd of niggers came +off from shore. First thing the mate knew, the boson and the crew were +killed in the first rush. The mate grabbed three cartridge belts and two +Winchesters and skinned up to the cross-trees. He was the sole survivor, +and you can't blame him for being mad. He pumped one rifle till it got +so hot he couldn't hold it, then he pumped the other. The deck was black +with niggers. He cleaned them out. He dropped them as they went over the +rail, and he dropped them as fast as they picked up their paddles. Then +they jumped into the water and started to swim for it, and being mad, he +got half a dozen more. And what did he get for it?” + +“Seven years in Fiji,” snapped the mate. + +“The government said he wasn't justified in shooting after they'd taken +to the water,” the skipper explained. + +“And that's why they die of dysentery nowadays,” the mate added. + +“Just fancy,” said Bertie, as he felt a longing for the cruise to be +over. + +Later on in the day he interviewed the black who had been pointed out +to him as a cannibal. This fellow's name was Sumasai. He had spent three +years on a Queensland plantation. He had been to Samoa, and Fiji, and +Sydney; and as a boat's crew had been on recruiting schooners through +New Britain, New Ireland, New Guinea, and the Admiralties. Also, he was +a wag, and he had taken a line on his skipper's conduct. Yes, he had +eaten many men. How many? He could not remember the tally. Yes, white +men, too; they were very good, unless they were sick. He had once eaten +a sick one. + +“My word!” he cried, at the recollection. “Me sick plenty along him. My +belly walk about too much.” + +Bertie shuddered, and asked about heads. Yes, Sumasai had several hidden +ashore, in good condition, sun-dried, and smoke-cured. One was of the +captain of a schooner. It had long whiskers. He would sell it for +two quid. Black men's heads he would sell for one quid. He had some +pickaninny heads, in poor condition, that he would let go for ten bob. + +Five minutes afterward, Bertie found himself sitting on the +companionway-slide alongside a black with a horrible skin disease. He +sheered off, and on inquiry was told that it was leprosy. He hurried +below and washed himself with antiseptic soap. He took many antiseptic +washes in the course of the day, for every native on board was afflicted +with malignant ulcers of one sort or another. + +As the Arla drew in to an anchorage in the midst of mangrove swamps, +a double row of barbed wire was stretched around above her rail. That +looked like business, and when Bertie saw the shore canoes alongside, +armed with spears, bows and arrows, and Sniders, he wished more +earnestly than ever that the cruise was over. + +That evening the natives were slow in leaving the ship at sundown. A +number of them checked the mate when he ordered them ashore. “Never +mind, I'll fix them,” said Captain Hansen, diving below. + +When he came back, he showed Bertie a stick of dynamite attached to a +fish hook. Now it happens that a paper-wrapped bottle of chlorodyne with +a piece of harmless fuse projecting can fool anybody. It fooled Bertie, +and it fooled the natives. When Captain Hansen lighted the fuse and +hooked the fish hook into the tail end of a native's loin cloth, that +native was smitten with so an ardent a desire for the shore that he +forgot to shed the loin cloth. He started for'ard, the fuse sizzling and +spluttering at his rear, the natives in his path taking headers over the +barbed wire at every jump. Bertie was horror-stricken. So was Captain +Hansen. He had forgotten his twenty-five recruits, on each of which he +had paid thirty shillings advance. They went over the side along with +the shore-dwelling folk and followed by him who trailed the sizzling +chlorodyne bottle. + +Bertie did not see the bottle go off; but the mate opportunely +discharging a stick of real dynamite aft where it would harm nobody, +Bertie would have sworn in any admiralty court to a nigger blown to +flinders. The flight of the twenty-five recruits had actually cost the +Arla forty pounds, and, since they had taken to the bush, there was no +hope of recovering them. The skipper and his mate proceeded to drown +their sorrow in cold tea. + +The cold tea was in whiskey bottles, so Bertie did not know it was cold +tea they were mopping up. All he knew was that the two men got very +drunk and argued eloquently and at length as to whether the exploded +nigger should be reported as a case of dysentery or as an accidental +drowning. When they snored off to sleep, he was the only white man left, +and he kept a perilous watch till dawn, in fear of an attack from shore +and an uprising of the crew. + +Three more days the Arla spent on the coast, and three more nights the +skipper and the mate drank overfondly of cold tea, leaving Bertie +to keep the watch. They knew he could be depended upon, while he was +equally certain that if he lived, he would report their drunken conduct +to Captain Malu. Then the Arla dropped anchor at Reminge Plantation, on +Guadalcanar, and Bertie landed on the beach with a sigh of relief and +shook hands with the manager. Mr. Harriwell was ready for him. + +“Now you mustn't be alarmed if some of our fellows seem downcast,” Mr. +Harriwell said, having drawn him aside in confidence. “There's been talk +of an outbreak, and two or three suspicious signs I'm willing to admit, +but personally I think it's all poppycock.” + +“How--how many blacks have you on the plantation?” Bertie asked, with a +sinking heart. + +“We're working four hundred just now,” replied Mr. Harriwell, +cheerfully; “but the three of us, with you, of course, and the skipper +and mate of the Arla, can handle them all right.” + +Bertie turned to meet one McTavish, the storekeeper, who scarcely +acknowledged the introduction, such was his eagerness to present his +resignation. + +“It being that I'm a married man, Mr. Harriwell, I can't very well +afford to remain on longer. Trouble is working up, as plain as the +nose on your face. The niggers are going to break out, and there'll be +another Hohono horror here.” + +“What's a Hohono horror?” Bertie asked, after the storekeeper had been +persuaded to remain until the end of the month. + +“Oh, he means Hohono Plantation, on Ysabel,” said the manager. “The +niggers killed the five white men ashore, captured the schooner, killed +the captain and mate, and escaped in a body to Malaita. But I always +said they were careless on Hohono. They won't catch us napping here. +Come along, Mr. Arkwright, and see our view from the veranda.” + +Bertie was too busy wondering how he could get away to Tulagi to the +Commissioner's house, to see much of the view. He was still wondering, +when a rifle exploded very near to him, behind his back. At the same +moment his arm was nearly dislocated, so eagerly did Mr. Harriwell drag +him indoors. + +“I say, old man, that was a close shave,” said the manager, pawing him +over to see if he had been hit. “I can't tell you how sorry I am. But it +was broad daylight, and I never dreamed.” + +Bertie was beginning to turn pale. + +“They got the other manager that way,” McTavish vouchsafed. “And a +dashed fine chap he was. Blew his brains out all over the veranda. You +noticed that dark stain there between the steps and the door?” + +Bertie was ripe for the cocktail which Mr. Harriwell pitched in and +compounded for him; but before he could drink it, a man in riding +trousers and puttees entered. + +“What's the matter now?” the manager asked, after one look at the +newcomer's face. “Is the river up again?” + +“River be blowed--it's the niggers. Stepped out of the cane grass, not +a dozen feet away, and whopped at me. It was a Snider, and he shot from +the hip. Now what I want to know is where'd he get that Snider?--Oh, I +beg pardon. Glad to know you, Mr. Arkwright.” + +“Mr. Brown is my assistant,” explained Mr. Harriwell. “And now let's +have that drink.” + +“But where'd he get that Snider?” Mr. Brown insisted. “I always objected +to keeping those guns on the premises.” + +“They're still there,” Mr. Harriwell said, with a show of heat. + +Mr. Brown smiled incredulously. + +“Come along and see,” said the manager. + +Bertie joined the procession into the office, where Mr. Harriwell +pointed triumphantly at a big packing case in a dusty corner. + +“Well, then where did the beggar get that Snider?” harped Mr. Brown. + +But just then McTavish lifted the packing case. The manager started, +then tore off the lid. The case was empty. They gazed at one another in +horrified silence. Harriwell drooped wearily. + +Then McVeigh cursed. + +“What I contended all along--the house-boys are not to be trusted.” + +“It does look serious,” Harriwell admitted, “but we'll come through it +all right. What the sanguinary niggers need is a shaking up. Will you +gentlemen please bring your rifles to dinner, and will you, Mr. Brown, +kindly prepare forty or fifty sticks of dynamite. Make the fuses good +and short. We'll give them a lesson. And now, gentlemen, dinner is +served.” + +One thing that Bertie detested was rice and curry, so it happened that +he alone partook of an inviting omelet. He had quite finished his plate, +when Harriwell helped himself to the omelet. One mouthful he tasted, +then spat out vociferously. + +“That's the second time,” McTavish announced ominously. + +Harriwell was still hawking and spitting. + +“Second time, what?” Bertie quavered. + +“Poison,” was the answer. “That cook will be hanged yet.” + +“That's the way the bookkeeper went out at Cape March,” Brown spoke up. +“Died horribly. They said on the Jessie that they heard him screaming +three miles away.” + +“I'll put the cook in irons,” sputtered Harriwell. “Fortunately we +discovered it in time.” + +Bertie sat paralyzed. There was no color in his face. He attempted to +speak, but only an inarticulate gurgle resulted. All eyed him anxiously. + +“Don't say it, don't say it,” McTavish cried in a tense voice. + +“Yes, I ate it, plenty of it, a whole plateful!” Bertie cried +explosively, like a diver suddenly regaining breath. + +The awful silence continued half a minute longer, and he read his fate +in their eyes. + +“Maybe it wasn't poison after all,” said Harriwell, dismally. + +“Call in the cook,” said Brown. + +In came the cook, a grinning black boy, nose-spiked and ear-plugged. + +“Here, you, Wi-wi, what name that?” Harriwell bellowed, pointing +accusingly at the omelet. + +Wi-wi was very naturally frightened and embarrassed. + +“Him good fella kai-kai,” he murmured apologetically. + +“Make him eat it,” suggested McTavish. “That's a proper test.” + +Harriwell filled a spoon with the stuff and jumped for the cook, who +fled in panic. + +“That settles it,” was Brown's solemn pronouncement. “He won't eat it.” + +“Mr. Brown, will you please go and put the irons on him?” Harriwell +turned cheerfully to Bertie. “It's all right, old man, the Commissioner +will deal with him, and if you die, depend upon it, he will be hanged.” + +“Don't think the government'll do it,” objected McTavish. + +“But gentlemen, gentlemen,” Bertie cried. “In the meantime think of me.” + +Harriwell shrugged his shoulders pityingly. + +“Sorry, old man, but it's a native poison, and there are no known +antidotes for native poisons. Try and compose yourself and if--” + +Two sharp reports of a rifle from without, interrupted the discourse, +and Brown, entering, reloaded his rifle and sat down to table. + +“The cook's dead,” he said. “Fever. A rather sudden attack.” + +“I was just telling Mr. Arkwright that there are no antidotes for native +poisons--” + +“Except gin,” said Brown. + +Harriwell called himself an absent-minded idiot and rushed for the gin +bottle. + +“Neat, man, neat,” he warned Bertie, who gulped down a tumbler +two-thirds full of the raw spirits, and coughed and choked from the +angry bite of it till the tears ran down his cheeks. + +Harriwell took his pulse and temperature, made a show of looking out for +him, and doubted that the omelet had been poisoned. Brown and McTavish +also doubted; but Bertie discerned an insincere ring in their voices. +His appetite had left him, and he took his own pulse stealthily under +the table. There was no question but what it was increasing, but he +failed to ascribe it to the gin he had taken. McTavish, rifle in hand, +went out on the veranda to reconnoiter. + +“They're massing up at the cook-house,” was his report. “And they've no +end of Sniders. My idea is to sneak around on the other side and take +them in flank. Strike the first blow, you know. Will you come along, +Brown?” + +Harriwell ate on steadily, while Bertie discovered that his pulse had +leaped up five beats. Nevertheless, he could not help jumping when the +rifles began to go off. Above the scattering of Sniders could be +heard the pumping of Brown's and McTavish's Winchesters--all against a +background of demoniacal screeching and yelling. + +“They've got them on the run,” Harriwell remarked, as voices and +gunshots faded away in the distance. + +Scarcely were Brown and McTavish back at the table when the latter +reconnoitered. + +“They've got dynamite,” he said. + +“Then let's charge them with dynamite,” Harriwell proposed. + +Thrusting half a dozen sticks each into their pockets and equipping +themselves with lighted cigars, they started for the door. And just then +it happened. They blamed McTavish for it afterward, and he admitted +that the charge had been a trifle excessive. But at any rate it went +off under the house, which lifted up cornerwise and settled back on +its foundations. Half the china on the table was shattered, while the +eight-day clock stopped. Yelling for vengeance, the three men rushed out +into the night, and the bombardment began. + +When they returned, there was no Bertie. He had dragged himself away +to the office, barricaded himself in, and sunk upon the floor in a +gin-soaked nightmare, wherein he died a thousand deaths while the +valorous fight went on around him. In the morning, sick and headachey +from the gin, he crawled out to find the sun still in the sky and God +presumable in heaven, for his hosts were alive and uninjured. + +Harriwell pressed him to stay on longer, but Bertie insisted on sailing +immediately on the Arla for Tulagi, where, until the following steamer +day, he stuck close by the Commissioner's house. There were lady +tourists on the outgoing steamer, and Bertie was again a hero, while +Captain Malu, as usual, passed unnoticed. But Captain Malu sent back +from Sydney two cases of the best Scotch whiskey on the market, for he +was not able to make up his mind as to whether it was Captain Hansen or +Mr Harriwell who had given Bertie Arkwright the more gorgeous insight +into life in the Solomons. + + + + +THE INEVITABLE WHITE MAN + +“The black will never understand the white, nor the white the black, as +long as black is black and white is white.” + +So said Captain Woodward. We sat in the parlor of Charley Roberts' pub +in Apia, drinking long Abu Hameds compounded and shared with us by the +aforesaid Charley Roberts, who claimed the recipe direct from Stevens, +famous for having invented the Abu Hamed at a time when he was spurred +on by Nile thirst--the Stevens who was responsible for “With Kitchener +to Kartoun,” and who passed out at the siege of Ladysmith. + +Captain Woodward, short and squat, elderly, burned by forty years of +tropic sun, and with the most beautiful liquid brown eyes I ever saw in +a man, spoke from a vast experience. The crisscross of scars on his bald +pate bespoke a tomahawk intimacy with the black, and of equal intimacy +was the advertisement, front and rear, on the right side of his neck, +where an arrow had at one time entered and been pulled clean through. As +he explained, he had been in a hurry on that occasion--the arrow impeded +his running--and he felt that he could not take the time to break off +the head and pull out the shaft the way it had come in. At the present +moment he was commander of the SAVAII, the big steamer that recruited +labor from the westward for the German plantations on Samoa. + +“Half the trouble is the stupidity of the whites,” said Roberts, +pausing to take a swig from his glass and to curse the Samoan bar-boy +in affectionate terms. “If the white man would lay himself out a bit +to understand the workings of the black man's mind, most of the messes +would be avoided.” + +“I've seen a few who claimed they understood niggers,” Captain Woodward +retorted, “and I always took notice that they were the first to be +kai-kai'd (eaten). Look at the missionaries in New Guinea and the New +Hebrides--the martyr isle of Erromanga and all the rest. Look at the +Austrian expedition that was cut to pieces in the Solomons, in the bush +of Guadalcanar. And look at the traders themselves, with a score of +years' experience, making their brag that no nigger would ever get them, +and whose heads to this day are ornamenting the rafters of the canoe +houses. There was old Johnny Simons--twenty-six years on the raw edges +of Melanesia, swore he knew the niggers like a book and that they'd +never do for him, and he passed out at Marovo Lagoon, New Georgia, had +his head sawed off by a black Mary (woman) and an old nigger with only +one leg, having left the other leg in the mouth of a shark while diving +for dynamited fish. There was Billy Watts, horrible reputation as +a nigger killer, a man to scare the devil. I remember lying at Cape +Little, New Ireland you know, when the niggers stole half a case of +trade-tobacco--cost him about three dollars and a half. In retaliation +he turned out, shot six niggers, smashed up their war canoes and burned +two villages. And it was at Cape Little, four years afterward, that +he was jumped along with fifty Buku boys he had with him fishing +bêche-de-mer. In five minutes they were all dead, with the exception of +three boys who got away in a canoe. Don't talk to me about understanding +the nigger. The white man's mission is to farm the world, and it's a +big enough job cut out for him. What time has he got left to understand +niggers anyway?” + +“Just so,” said Roberts. “And somehow it doesn't seem necessary, after +all, to understand the niggers. In direct proportion to the white man's +stupidity is his success in farming the world--” + +“And putting the fear of God into the nigger's heart,” Captain Woodward +blurted out. “Perhaps you're right, Roberts. Perhaps it's his stupidity +that makes him succeed, and surely one phase of his stupidity is his +inability to understand the niggers. But there's one thing sure, the +white has to run the niggers whether he understands them or not. It's +inevitable. It's fate.” + +“And of course the white man is inevitable--it's the niggers' fate,” + Roberts broke in. “Tell the white man there's pearl shell in some lagoon +infested by ten-thousand howling cannibals, and he'll head there all by +his lonely, with half a dozen kanaka divers and a tin alarm clock for +chronometer, all packed like sardines on a commodious, five-ton ketch. +Whisper that there's a gold strike at the North Pole, and that same +inevitable white-skinned creature will set out at once, armed with pick +and shovel, a side of bacon, and the latest patent rocker--and what's +more, he'll get there. Tip it off to him that there's diamonds on the +red-hot ramparts of hell, and Mr. White Man will storm the ramparts +and set old Satan himself to pick-and-shovel work. That's what comes of +being stupid and inevitable.” + +“But I wonder what the black man must think of the--the inevitableness,” + I said. + +Captain Woodward broke into quiet laughter. His eyes had a reminiscent +gleam. + +“I'm just wondering what the niggers of Malu thought and still must be +thinking of the one inevitable white man we had on board when we visited +them in the DUCHESS,” he explained. + +Roberts mixed three more Abu Hameds. + +“That was twenty years ago. Saxtorph was his name. He was certainly the +most stupid man I ever saw, but he was as inevitable as death. There was +only one thing that chap could do, and that was shoot. I remember the +first time I ran into him--right here in Apia, twenty years ago. That +was before your time, Roberts. I was sleeping at Dutch Henry's hotel, +down where the market is now. Ever heard of him? He made a tidy stake +smuggling arms in to the rebels, sold out his hotel, and was killed in +Sydney just six weeks afterward in a saloon row. + +“But Saxtorph. One night I'd just got to sleep, when a couple of cats +began to sing in the courtyard. It was out of bed and up window, water +jug in hand. But just then I heard the window of the next room go up. +Two shots were fired, and the window was closed. I fail to impress you +with the celerity of the transaction. Ten seconds at the outside. Up +went the window, bang bang went the revolver, and down went the window. +Whoever it was, he had never stopped to see the effect of his shots. He +knew. Do you follow me?--he KNEW. There was no more cat concert, and in +the morning there lay the two offenders, stone dead. It was marvelous +to me. It still is marvelous. First, it was starlight, and Saxtorph shot +without drawing a bead; next, he shot so rapidly that the two reports +were like a double report; and finally, he knew he had hit his marks +without looking to see. + +“Two days afterward he came on board to see me. I was mate, then, on +the Duchess, a whacking big one-hundred-and fifty-ton schooner, a +blackbirder. And let me tell you that blackbirders were blackbirders in +those days. There weren't any government protection for US, either. It +was rough work, give and take, if we were finished, and nothing said, +and we ran niggers from every south sea island they didn't kick us off +from. Well, Saxtorph came on board, John Saxtorph was the name he gave. +He was a sandy little man, hair sandy, complexion sandy, and eyes sandy, +too. Nothing striking about him. His soul was as neutral as his color +scheme. He said he was strapped and wanted to ship on board. Would go +cabin boy, cook, supercargo, or common sailor. Didn't know anything +about any of the billets, but said that he was willing to learn. I +didn't want him, but his shooting had so impressed me that I took him as +common sailor, wages three pounds per month. + +“He was willing to learn all right, I'll say that much. But he was +constitutionally unable to learn anything. He could no more box the +compass than I could mix drinks like Roberts here. And as for steering, +he gave me my first gray hairs. I never dared risk him at the wheel when +we were running in a big sea, while full-and-by and close-and-by were +insoluble mysteries. Couldn't ever tell the difference between a sheet +and a tackle, simply couldn't. The fore-throat-jig and the jib-jig were +all one to him. Tell him to slack off the mainsheet, and before you know +it, he'd drop the peak. He fell overboard three times, and he couldn't +swim. But he was always cheerful, never seasick, and he was the most +willing man I ever knew. He was an uncommunicative soul. Never talked +about himself. His history, so far as we were concerned, began the day +he signed on the DUCHESS. Where he learned to shoot, the stars alone can +tell. He was a Yankee--that much we knew from the twang in his speech. +And that was all we ever did know. + +“And now we begin to get to the point. We had bad luck in the New +Hebrides, only fourteen boys for five weeks, and we ran up before the +southeast for the Solomons. Malaita, then as now, was good recruiting +ground, and we ran into Malu, on the northwestern corner. There's a +shore reef and an outer reef, and a mighty nervous anchorage; but we +made it all right and fired off our dynamite as a signal to the niggers +to come down and be recruited. In three days we got not a boy. The +niggers came off to us in their canoes by hundreds, but they only +laughed when we showed them beads and calico and hatchets and talked of +the delights of plantation work in Samoa. + +“On the fourth day there came a change. Fifty-odd boys signed on and +were billeted in the main-hold, with the freedom of the deck, of course. +And of course, looking back, this wholesale signing on was suspicious, +but at the time we thought some powerful chief had removed the ban +against recruiting. The morning of the fifth day our two boats went +ashore as usual--one to cover the other, you know, in case of trouble. +And, as usual, the fifty niggers on board were on deck, loafing, +talking, smoking, and sleeping. Saxtorph and myself, along with four +other sailors, were all that were left on board. The two boats were +manned with Gilbert Islanders. In the one were the captain, the +supercargo, and the recruiter. In the other, which was the covering boat +and which lay off shore a hundred yards, was the second mate. Both boats +were well-armed, though trouble was little expected. + +“Four of the sailors, including Saxtorph, were scraping the poop rail. +The fifth sailor, rifle in hand, was standing guard by the water-tank +just for'ard of the mainmast. I was for'ard, putting in the finishing +licks on a new jaw for the fore-gaff. I was just reaching for my pipe +where I had laid it down, when I heard a shot from shore. I straightened +up to look. Something struck me on the back of the head, partially +stunning me and knocking me to the deck. My first thought was that +something had carried away aloft; but even as I went down, and before +I struck the deck, I heard the devil's own tattoo of rifles from the +boats, and twisting sidewise, I caught a glimpse of the sailor who +was standing guard. Two big niggers were holding his arms, and a third +nigger from behind was braining him with a tomahawk. + +“I can see it now, the water-tank, the mainmast, the gang hanging on to +him, the hatchet descending on the back of his head, and all under the +blazing sunlight. I was fascinated by that growing vision of death. +The tomahawk seemed to take a horribly long time to come down. I saw it +land, and the man's legs give under him as he crumpled. The niggers held +him up by sheer strength while he was hacked a couple of times more. +Then I got two more hacks on the head and decided that I was dead. So +did the brute that was hacking me. I was too helpless to move, and I lay +there and watched them removing the sentry's head. I must say they did +it slick enough. They were old hands at the business. + +“The rifle firing from the boats had ceased, and I made no doubt that +they were finished off and that the end had come to everything. It was +only a matter of moments when they would return for my head. They were +evidently taking the heads from the sailors aft. Heads are valuable on +Malaita, especially white heads. They have the place of honor in the +canoe houses of the salt-water natives. What particular decorative +effect the bushmen get out of them I didn't know, but they prize them +just as much as the salt-water crowd. + +“I had a dim notion of escaping, and I crawled on hands and knees to +the winch, where I managed to drag myself to my feet. From there I +could look aft and see three heads on top the cabin--the heads of three +sailors I had given orders to for months. The niggers saw me standing, +and started for me. I reached for my revolver, and found they had taken +it. I can't say that I was scared. I've been near to death several +times, but it never seemed easier than right then. I was half-stunned, +and nothing seemed to matter. + +“The leading nigger had armed himself with a cleaver from the galley, +and he grimaced like an ape as he prepared to slice me down. But the +slice was never made. He went down on the deck all of a heap, and I saw +the blood gush from his mouth. In a dim way I heard a rifle go off and +continue to go off. Nigger after nigger went down. My senses began to +clear, and I noted that there was never a miss. Every time that the +rifle went off a nigger dropped. I sat down on deck beside the winch and +looked up. Perched in the crosstrees was Saxtorph. How he had managed +it I can't imagine, for he had carried up with him two Winchesters and +I don't know how many bandoliers of ammunition; and he was now doing the +one only thing in this world that he was fitted to do. + +“I've seen shooting and slaughter, but I never saw anything like that. +I sat by the winch and watched the show. I was weak and faint, and it +seemed to be all a dream. Bang, bang, bang, bang, went his rifle, and +thud, thud, thud, thud, went the niggers to the deck. It was amazing to +see them go down. After their first rush to get me, when about a dozen +had dropped, they seemed paralyzed; but he never left off pumping his +gun. By this time canoes and the two boats arrived from shore, armed +with Sniders, and with Winchesters which they had captured in the boats. +The fusillade they let loose on Saxtorph was tremendous. Luckily for him +the niggers are only good at close range. They are not used to putting +the gun to their shoulders. They wait until they are right on top of +a man, and then they shoot from the hip. When his rifle got too hot, +Saxtorph changed off. That had been his idea when he carried two rifles +up with him. + +“The astounding thing was the rapidity of his fire. Also, he never +made a miss. If ever anything was inevitable, that man was. It was the +swiftness of it that made the slaughter so appalling. The niggers did +not have time to think. When they did manage to think, they went over +the side in a rush, capsizing the canoes of course. Saxtorph never let +up. The water was covered with them, and plump, plump, plump, he dropped +his bullets into them. Not a single miss, and I could hear distinctly +the thud of every bullet as it buried in human flesh. + +“The niggers spread out and headed for the shore, swimming. The water +was carpeted with bobbing heads, and I stood up, as in a dream, and +watched it all--the bobbing heads and the heads that ceased to bob. Some +of the long shots were magnificent. Only one man reached the beach, but +as he stood up to wade ashore, Saxtorph got him. It was beautiful. And +when a couple of niggers ran down to drag him out of the water, Saxtorph +got them, too. + +“I thought everything was over then, when I heard the rifle go off +again. A nigger had come out of the cabin companion on the run for the +rail and gone down in the middle of it. The cabin must have been full +of them. I counted twenty. They came up one at a time and jumped for the +rail. But they never got there. It reminded me of trapshooting. A black +body would pop out of the companion, bang would go Saxtorph's rifle, and +down would go the black body. Of course, those below did not know what +was happening on deck, so they continued to pop out until the last one +was finished off. + +“Saxtorph waited a while to make sure, and then came down on deck. He +and I were all that were left of the DUCHESS'S complement, and I was +pretty well to the bad, while he was helpless now that the shooting was +over. Under my direction he washed out my scalp wounds and sewed them +up. A big drink of whiskey braced me to make an effort to get out. There +was nothing else to do. All the rest were dead. We tried to get up sail, +Saxtorph hoisting and I holding the turn. He was once more the stupid +lubber. He couldn't hoist worth a cent, and when I fell in a faint, it +looked all up with us. + +“When I came to, Saxtorph was sitting helplessly on the rail, waiting to +ask me what he should do. I told him to overhaul the wounded and see if +there were any able to crawl. He gathered together six. One, I remember, +had a broken leg; but Saxtorph said his arms were all right. I lay +in the shade, brushing the flies off and directing operations, while +Saxtorph bossed his hospital gang. I'll be blessed if he didn't make +those poor niggers heave at every rope on the pin-rails before he found +the halyards. One of them let go the rope in the midst of the hoisting +and slipped down to the deck dead; but Saxtorph hammered the others and +made them stick by the job. When the fore and main were up, I told him +to knock the shackle out of the anchor chain and let her go. I had had +myself helped aft to the wheel, where I was going to make a shift at +steering. I can't guess how he did it, but instead of knocking the +shackle out, down went the second anchor, and there we were doubly +moored. + +“In the end he managed to knock both shackles out and raise the staysail +and jib, and the Duchess filled away for the entrance. Our decks were a +spectacle. Dead and dying niggers were everywhere. They were wedged away +some of them in the most inconceivable places. The cabin was full of +them where they had crawled off the deck and cashed in. I put Saxtorph +and his graveyard gang to work heaving them overside, and over they +went, the living and the dead. The sharks had fat pickings that day. +Of course our four murdered sailors went the same way. Their heads, +however, we put in a sack with weights, so that by no chance should they +drift on the beach and fall into the hands of the niggers. + +“Our five prisoners I decided to use as crew, but they decided +otherwise. They watched their opportunity and went over the side. +Saxtorph got two in mid-air with his revolver, and would have shot the +other three in the water if I hadn't stopped him. I was sick of the +slaughter, you see, and besides, they'd helped work the schooner out. +But it was mercy thrown away, for the sharks got the three of them. + +“I had brain fever or something after we got clear of the land. Anyway, +the DUCHESS lay hove to for three weeks, when I pulled myself together +and we jogged on with her to Sydney. Anyway those niggers of Malu +learned the everlasting lesson that it is not good to monkey with a +white man. In their case, Saxtorph was certainly inevitable.” + +Charley Roberts emitted a long whistle and said: + +“Well I should say so. But whatever became of Saxtorph?” + +“He drifted into seal hunting and became a crackerjack. For six years he +was high line of both the Victoria and San Francisco fleets. The seventh +year his schooner was seized in Bering Sea by a Russian cruiser, and all +hands, so the talk went, were slammed into the Siberian salt mines. At +least I've never heard of him since.” + +“Farming the world,” Roberts muttered. “Farming the world. Well here's +to them. Somebody's got to do it--farm the world, I mean.” + +Captain Woodward rubbed the criss-crosses on his bald head. + +“I've done my share of it,” he said. “Forty years now. This will be my +last trip. Then I'm going home to stay.” + +“I'll wager the wine you don't,” Roberts challenged. “You'll die in the +harness, not at home.” + +Captain Woodward promptly accepted the bet, but personally I think +Charley Roberts has the best of it. + + + + +THE SEED OF McCOY + +The Pyrenees, her iron sides pressed low in the water by her cargo of +wheat, rolled sluggishly, and made it easy for the man who was climbing +aboard from out a tiny outrigger canoe. As his eyes came level with the +rail, so that he could see inboard, it seemed to him that he saw a dim, +almost indiscernible haze. It was more like an illusion, like a blurring +film that had spread abruptly over his eyes. He felt an inclination to +brush it away, and the same instant he thought that he was growing old +and that it was time to send to San Francisco for a pair of spectacles. + +As he came over the rail he cast a glance aloft at the tall masts, and, +next, at the pumps. They were not working. There seemed nothing the +matter with the big ship, and he wondered why she had hoisted the signal +of distress. He thought of his happy islanders, and hoped it was not +disease. Perhaps the ship was short of water or provisions. He shook +hands with the captain whose gaunt face and care-worn eyes made no +secret of the trouble, whatever it was. At the same moment the newcomer +was aware of a faint, indefinable smell. It seemed like that of burnt +bread, but different. + +He glanced curiously about him. Twenty feet away a weary-faced sailor +was calking the deck. As his eyes lingered on the man, he saw suddenly +arise from under his hands a faint spiral of haze that curled and +twisted and was gone. By now he had reached the deck. His bare feet were +pervaded by a dull warmth that quickly penetrated the thick calluses. +He knew now the nature of the ship's distress. His eyes roved swiftly +forward, where the full crew of weary-faced sailors regarded him +eagerly. The glance from his liquid brown eyes swept over them like a +benediction, soothing them, rapping them about as in the mantle of a +great peace. “How long has she been afire, Captain?” he asked in a voice +so gentle and unperturbed that it was as the cooing of a dove. + +At first the captain felt the peace and content of it stealing in upon +him; then the consciousness of all that he had gone through and was +going through smote him, and he was resentful. By what right did this +ragged beachcomber, in dungaree trousers and a cotton shirt, suggest +such a thing as peace and content to him and his overwrought, exhausted +soul? The captain did not reason this; it was the unconscious process of +emotion that caused his resentment. + +“Fifteen days,” he answered shortly. “Who are you?” + +“My name is McCoy,” came the answer in tones that breathed tenderness +and compassion. + +“I mean, are you the pilot?” + +McCoy passed the benediction of his gaze over the tall, heavy-shouldered +man with the haggard, unshaven face who had joined the captain. + +“I am as much a pilot as anybody,” was McCoy's answer. “We are all +pilots here, Captain, and I know every inch of these waters.” + +But the captain was impatient. + +“What I want is some of the authorities. I want to talk with them, and +blame quick.” + +“Then I'll do just as well.” + +Again that insidious suggestion of peace, and his ship a raging +furnace beneath his feet! The captain's eyebrows lifted impatiently and +nervously, and his fist clenched as if he were about to strike a blow +with it. + +“Who in hell are you?” he demanded. + +“I am the chief magistrate,” was the reply in a voice that was still the +softest and gentlest imaginable. + +The tall, heavy-shouldered man broke out in a harsh laugh that was +partly amusement, but mostly hysterical. Both he and the captain +regarded McCoy with incredulity and amazement. That this barefooted +beachcomber should possess such high-sounding dignity was inconceivable. +His cotton shirt, unbuttoned, exposed a grizzled chest and the fact that +there was no undershirt beneath. + +A worn straw hat failed to hide the ragged gray hair. Halfway down his +chest descended an untrimmed patriarchal beard. In any slop shop, two +shillings would have outfitted him complete as he stood before them. + +“Any relation to the McCoy of the Bounty?” the captain asked. + +“He was my great-grandfather.” + +“Oh,” the captain said, then bethought himself. “My name is Davenport, +and this is my first mate, Mr. Konig.” + +They shook hands. + +“And now to business.” The captain spoke quickly, the urgency of a great +haste pressing his speech. “We've been on fire for over two weeks. +She's ready to break all hell loose any moment. That's why I held for +Pitcairn. I want to beach her, or scuttle her, and save the hull.” + +“Then you made a mistake, Captain,” said McCoy. “You should have slacked +away for Mangareva. There's a beautiful beach there, in a lagoon where +the water is like a mill pond.” + +“But we're here, ain't we?” the first mate demanded. “That's the point. +We're here, and we've got to do something.” + +McCoy shook his head kindly. + +“You can do nothing here. There is no beach. There isn't even +anchorage.” + +“Gammon!” said the mate. “Gammon!” he repeated loudly, as the captain +signaled him to be more soft spoken. “You can't tell me that sort of +stuff. Where d'ye keep your own boats, hey--your schooner, or cutter, or +whatever you have? Hey? Answer me that.” + +McCoy smiled as gently as he spoke. His smile was a caress, an embrace +that surrounded the tired mate and sought to draw him into the quietude +and rest of McCoy's tranquil soul. + +“We have no schooner or cutter,” he replied. “And we carry our canoes to +the top of the cliff.” + +“You've got to show me,” snorted the mate. “How d'ye get around to the +other islands, heh? Tell me that.” + +“We don't get around. As governor of Pitcairn, I sometimes go. When +I was younger, I was away a great deal--sometimes on the trading +schooners, but mostly on the missionary brig. But she's gone now, and we +depend on passing vessels. Sometimes we have had as high as six calls in +one year. At other times, a year, and even longer, has gone by without +one passing ship. Yours is the first in seven months.” + +“And you mean to tell me--” the mate began. + +But Captain Davenport interfered. + +“Enough of this. We're losing time. What is to be done, Mr. McCoy?” + +The old man turned his brown eyes, sweet as a woman's, shoreward, and +both captain and mate followed his gaze around from the lonely rock of +Pitcairn to the crew clustering forward and waiting anxiously for the +announcement of a decision. McCoy did not hurry. He thought smoothly and +slowly, step by step, with the certitude of a mind that was never vexed +or outraged by life. + +“The wind is light now,” he said finally. “There is a heavy current +setting to the westward.” + +“That's what made us fetch to leeward,” the captain interrupted, +desiring to vindicate his seamanship. + +“Yes, that is what fetched you to leeward,” McCoy went on. “Well, you +can't work up against this current today. And if you did, there is no +beach. Your ship will be a total loss.” + +He paused, and captain and mate looked despair at each other. + +“But I will tell you what you can do. The breeze will freshen tonight +around midnight--see those tails of clouds and that thickness to +windward, beyond the point there? That's where she'll come from, out of +the southeast, hard. It is three hundred miles to Mangareva. Square away +for it. There is a beautiful bed for your ship there.” + +The mate shook his head. + +“Come in to the cabin, and we'll look at the chart,” said the captain. + +McCoy found a stifling, poisonous atmosphere in the pent cabin. Stray +waftures of invisible gases bit his eyes and made them sting. The deck +was hotter, almost unbearably hot to his bare feet. The sweat poured +out of his body. He looked almost with apprehension about him. This +malignant, internal heat was astounding. It was a marvel that the cabin +did not burst into flames. He had a feeling as if of being in a huge +bake oven where the heat might at any moment increase tremendously and +shrivel him up like a blade of grass. + +As he lifted one foot and rubbed the hot sole against the leg of his +trousers, the mate laughed in a savage, snarling fashion. + +“The anteroom of hell,” he said. “Hell herself is right down there under +your feet.” + +“It's hot!” McCoy cried involuntarily, mopping his face with a bandana +handkerchief. + +“Here's Mangareva,” the captain said, bending over the table and +pointing to a black speck in the midst of the white blankness of the +chart. “And here, in between, is another island. Why not run for that?” + +McCoy did not look at the chart. + +“That's Crescent Island,” he answered. “It is uninhabited, and it +is only two or three feet above water. Lagoon, but no entrance. No, +Mangareva is the nearest place for your purpose.” + +“Mangareva it is, then,” said Captain Davenport, interrupting the mate's +growling objection. “Call the crew aft, Mr. Konig.” + +The sailors obeyed, shuffling wearily along the deck and painfully +endeavoring to make haste. Exhaustion was evident in every movement. The +cook came out of his galley to hear, and the cabin boy hung about near +him. + +When Captain Davenport had explained the situation and announced his +intention of running for Mangareva, an uproar broke out. Against a +background of throaty rumbling arose inarticulate cries of rage, with +here and there a distinct curse, or word, or phrase. A shrill Cockney +voice soared and dominated for a moment, crying: “Gawd! After bein' in +ell for fifteen days--an' now e wants us to sail this floatin' ell to +sea again?” + +The captain could not control them, but McCoy's gentle presence seemed +to rebuke and calm them, and the muttering and cursing died away, until +the full crew, save here and there an anxious face directed at the +captain, yearned dumbly toward the green clad peaks and beetling coast +of Pitcairn. + +Soft as a spring zephyr was the voice of McCoy: + +“Captain, I thought I heard some of them say they were starving.” + +“Ay,” was the answer, “and so we are. I've had a sea biscuit and a +spoonful of salmon in the last two days. We're on whack. You see, when +we discovered the fire, we battened down immediately to suffocate the +fire. And then we found how little food there was in the pantry. But it +was too late. We didn't dare break out the lazarette. Hungry? I'm just +as hungry as they are.” + +He spoke to the men again, and again the throat rumbling and cursing +arose, their faces convulsed and animal-like with rage. The second and +third mates had joined the captain, standing behind him at the break of +the poop. Their faces were set and expressionless; they seemed bored, +more than anything else, by this mutiny of the crew. Captain Davenport +glanced questioningly at his first mate, and that person merely shrugged +his shoulders in token of his helplessness. + +“You see,” the captain said to McCoy, “you can't compel sailors to leave +the safe land and go to sea on a burning vessel. She has been their +floating coffin for over two weeks now. They are worked out, and starved +out, and they've got enough of her. We'll beat up for Pitcairn.” + +But the wind was light, the Pyrenees' bottom was foul, and she could not +beat up against the strong westerly current. At the end of two hours she +had lost three miles. The sailors worked eagerly, as if by main strength +they could compel the PYRENEES against the adverse elements. But +steadily, port tack and starboard tack, she sagged off to the westward. +The captain paced restlessly up and down, pausing occasionally to survey +the vagrant smoke wisps and to trace them back to the portions of the +deck from which they sprang. The carpenter was engaged constantly in +attempting to locate such places, and, when he succeeded, in calking +them tighter and tighter. + +“Well, what do you think?” the captain finally asked McCoy, who was +watching the carpenter with all a child's interest and curiosity in his +eyes. + +McCoy looked shoreward, where the land was disappearing in the +thickening haze. + +“I think it would be better to square away for Mangareva. With that +breeze that is coming, you'll be there tomorrow evening.” + +“But what if the fire breaks out? It is liable to do it any moment.” + +“Have your boats ready in the falls. The same breeze will carry your +boats to Mangareva if the ship burns out from under.” + +Captain Davenport debated for a moment, and then McCoy heard the +question he had not wanted to hear, but which he knew was surely coming. + +“I have no chart of Mangareva. On the general chart it is only a fly +speck. I would not know where to look for the entrance into the lagoon. +Will you come along and pilot her in for me?” + +McCoy's serenity was unbroken. + +“Yes, Captain,” he said, with the same quiet unconcern with which +he would have accepted an invitation to dinner; “I'll go with you to +Mangareva.” + +Again the crew was called aft, and the captain spoke to them from the +break of the poop. + +“We've tried to work her up, but you see how we've lost ground. She's +setting off in a two-knot current. This gentleman is the Honorable +McCoy, Chief Magistrate and Governor of Pitcairn Island. He will +come along with us to Mangareva. So you see the situation is not so +dangerous. He would not make such an offer if he thought he was going +to lose his life. Besides, whatever risk there is, if he of his own free +will come on board and take it, we can do no less. What do you say for +Mangareva?” + +This time there was no uproar. McCoy's presence, the surety and calm +that seemed to radiate from him, had had its effect. They conferred with +one another in low voices. There was little urging. They were virtually +unanimous, and they shoved the Cockney out as their spokesman. That +worthy was overwhelmed with consciousness of the heroism of himself and +his mates, and with flashing eyes he cried: + +“By Gawd! If 'e will, we will!” + +The crew mumbled its assent and started forward. + +“One moment, Captain,” McCoy said, as the other was turning to give +orders to the mate. “I must go ashore first.” + +Mr. Konig was thunderstruck, staring at McCoy as if he were a madman. + +“Go ashore!” the captain cried. “What for? It will take you three hours +to get there in your canoe.” + +McCoy measured the distance of the land away, and nodded. + +“Yes, it is six now. I won't get ashore till nine. The people cannot be +assembled earlier than ten. As the breeze freshens up tonight, you +can begin to work up against it, and pick me up at daylight tomorrow +morning.” + +“In the name of reason and common sense,” the captain burst forth, “what +do you want to assemble the people for? Don't you realize that my ship +is burning beneath me?” + +McCoy was as placid as a summer sea, and the other's anger produced not +the slightest ripple upon it. + +“Yes, Captain,” he cooed in his dove-like voice. “I do realize that your +ship is burning. That is why I am going with you to Mangareva. But I +must get permission to go with you. It is our custom. It is an important +matter when the governor leaves the island. The people's interests +are at stake, and so they have the right to vote their permission or +refusal. But they will give it, I know that.” + +“Are you sure?” + +“Quite sure.” + +“Then if you know they will give it, why bother with getting it? Think +of the delay--a whole night.” + +“It is our custom,” was the imperturbable reply. “Also, I am the +governor, and I must make arrangements for the conduct of the island +during my absence.” + +“But it is only a twenty-four hour run to Mangareva,” the captain +objected. “Suppose it took you six times that long to return to +windward; that would bring you back by the end of a week.” + +McCoy smiled his large, benevolent smile. + +“Very few vessels come to Pitcairn, and when they do, they are usually +from San Francisco or from around the Horn. I shall be fortunate if I +get back in six months. I may be away a year, and I may have to go to +San Francisco in order to find a vessel that will bring me back. My +father once left Pitcairn to be gone three months, and two years passed +before he could get back. Then, too, you are short of food. If you have +to take to the boats, and the weather comes up bad, you may be days in +reaching land. I can bring off two canoe loads of food in the morning. +Dried bananas will be best. As the breeze freshens, you beat up against +it. The nearer you are, the bigger loads I can bring off. Goodby.” + +He held out his hand. The captain shook it, and was reluctant to let go. +He seemed to cling to it as a drowning sailor clings to a life buoy. + +“How do I know you will come back in the morning?” he asked. + +“Yes, that's it!” cried the mate. “How do we know but what he's skinning +out to save his own hide?” + +McCoy did not speak. He looked at them sweetly and benignantly, and +it seemed to them that they received a message from his tremendous +certitude of soul. + +The captain released his hand, and, with a last sweeping glance that +embraced the crew in its benediction, McCoy went over the rail and +descended into his canoe. + +The wind freshened, and the Pyrenees, despite the foulness of her +bottom, won half a dozen miles away from the westerly current. At +daylight, with Pitcairn three miles to windward, Captain Davenport made +out two canoes coming off to him. Again McCoy clambered up the side and +dropped over the rail to the hot deck. He was followed by many packages +of dried bananas, each package wrapped in dry leaves. + +“Now, Captain,” he said, “swing the yards and drive for dear life. You +see, I am no navigator,” he explained a few minutes later, as he +stood by the captain aft, the latter with gaze wandering from aloft to +overside as he estimated the Pyrenees' speed. “You must fetch her to +Mangareva. When you have picked up the land, then I will pilot her in. +What do you think she is making?” + +“Eleven,” Captain Davenport answered, with a final glance at the water +rushing past. + +“Eleven. Let me see, if she keeps up that gait, we'll sight Mangareva +between eight and nine o'clock tomorrow morning. I'll have her on the +beach by ten or by eleven at latest. And then your troubles will be all +over.” + +It almost seemed to the captain that the blissful moment had already +arrived, such was the persuasive convincingness of McCoy. + +Captain Davenport had been under the fearful strain of navigating his +burning ship for over two weeks, and he was beginning to feel that he +had had enough. + +A heavier flaw of wind struck the back of his neck and whistled by his +ears. He measured the weight of it, and looked quickly overside. + +“The wind is making all the time,” he announced. “The old girl's +doing nearer twelve than eleven right now. If this keeps up, we'll be +shortening down tonight.” + +All day the Pyrenees, carrying her load of living fire, tore across the +foaming sea. By nightfall, royals and topgallantsails were in, and she +flew on into the darkness, with great, crested seas roaring after her. +The auspicious wind had had its effect, and fore and aft a visible +brightening was apparent. In the second dog-watch some careless soul +started a song, and by eight bells the whole crew was singing. + +Captain Davenport had his blankets brought up and spread on top the +house. + +“I've forgotten what sleep is,” he explained to McCoy. “I'm all in. But +give me a call at any time you think necessary.” + +At three in the morning he was aroused by a gentle tugging at his arm. +He sat up quickly, bracing himself against the skylight, stupid yet from +his heavy sleep. The wind was thrumming its war song in the rigging, and +a wild sea was buffeting the PYRENEES. Amidships she was wallowing first +one rail under and then the other, flooding the waist more often than +not. McCoy was shouting something he could not hear. He reached out, +clutched the other by the shoulder, and drew him close so that his own +ear was close to the other's lips. + +“It's three o'clock,” came McCoy's voice, still retaining its dovelike +quality, but curiously muffled, as if from a long way off. “We've +run two hundred and fifty. Crescent Island is only thirty miles away, +somewhere there dead ahead. There's no lights on it. If we keep running, +we'll pile up, and lose ourselves as well as the ship.” + +“What d' ye think--heave to?” + +“Yes; heave to till daylight. It will only put us back four hours.” + +So the Pyrenees, with her cargo of fire, was hove to, bitting the teeth +of the gale and fighting and smashing the pounding seas. She was a +shell, filled with a conflagration, and on the outside of the shell, +clinging precariously, the little motes of men, by pull and haul, helped +her in the battle. + +“It is most unusual, this gale,” McCoy told the captain, in the lee of +the cabin. “By rights there should be no gale at this time of the year. +But everything about the weather has been unusual. There has been a +stoppage of the trades, and now it's howling right out of the trade +quarter.” He waved his hand into the darkness, as if his vision could +dimly penetrate for hundreds of miles. “It is off to the westward. There +is something big making off there somewhere--a hurricane or something. +We're lucky to be so far to the eastward. But this is only a little +blow,” he added. “It can't last. I can tell you that much.” + +By daylight the gale had eased down to normal. But daylight revealed +a new danger. It had come on thick. The sea was covered by a fog, or, +rather, by a pearly mist that was fog-like in density, in so far as it +obstructed vision, but that was no more than a film on the sea, for the +sun shot it through and filled it with a glowing radiance. + +The deck of the Pyrenees was making more smoke than on the preceding +day, and the cheerfulness of officers and crew had vanished. In the lee +of the galley the cabin boy could be heard whimpering. It was his first +voyage, and the fear of death was at his heart. The captain wandered +about like a lost soul, nervously chewing his mustache, scowling, unable +to make up his mind what to do. + +“What do you think?” he asked, pausing by the side of McCoy, who was +making a breakfast off fried bananas and a mug of water. + +McCoy finished the last banana, drained the mug, and looked slowly +around. In his eyes was a smile of tenderness as he said: + +“Well, Captain, we might as well drive as burn. Your decks are not going +to hold out forever. They are hotter this morning. You haven't a pair of +shoes I can wear? It is getting uncomfortable for my bare feet.” + +The Pyrenees shipped two heavy seas as she was swung off and put once +more before it, and the first mate expressed a desire to have all that +water down in the hold, if only it could be introduced without taking +off the hatches. McCoy ducked his head into the binnacle and watched the +course set. + +“I'd hold her up some more, Captain,” he said. “She's been making drift +when hove to.” + +“I've set it to a point higher already,” was the answer. “Isn't that +enough?” + +“I'd make it two points, Captain. This bit of a blow kicked that +westerly current ahead faster than you imagine.” + +Captain Davenport compromised on a point and a half, and then went +aloft, accompanied by McCoy and the first mate, to keep a lookout for +land. Sail had been made, so that the Pyrenees was doing ten knots. The +following sea was dying down rapidly. There was no break in the pearly +fog, and by ten o'clock Captain Davenport was growing nervous. All hands +were at their stations, ready, at the first warning of land ahead, to +spring like fiends to the task of bringing the Pyrenees up on the wind. +That land ahead, a surf-washed outer reef, would be perilously close +when it revealed itself in such a fog. + +Another hour passed. The three watchers aloft stared intently into the +pearly radiance. “What if we miss Mangareva?” Captain Davenport asked +abruptly. + +McCoy, without shifting his gaze, answered softly: + +“Why, let her drive, captain. That is all we can do. All the Paumotus +are before us. We can drive for a thousand miles through reefs and +atolls. We are bound to fetch up somewhere.” + +“Then drive it is.” Captain Davenport evidenced his intention of +descending to the deck. “We've missed Mangareva. God knows where +the next land is. I wish I'd held her up that other half-point,” he +confessed a moment later. “This cursed current plays the devil with a +navigator.” + +“The old navigators called the Paumotus the Dangerous Archipelago,” + McCoy said, when they had regained the poop. “This very current was +partly responsible for that name.” + +“I was talking with a sailor chap in Sydney, once,” said Mr. Konig. +“He'd been trading in the Paumotus. He told me insurance was eighteen +per cent. Is that right?” + +McCoy smiled and nodded. + +“Except that they don't insure,” he explained. “The owners write off +twenty per cent of the cost of their schooners each year.” + +“My God!” Captain Davenport groaned. “That makes the life of a schooner +only five years!” He shook his head sadly, murmuring, “Bad waters! Bad +waters!” + +Again they went into the cabin to consult the big general chart; but the +poisonous vapors drove them coughing and gasping on deck. + +“Here is Moerenhout Island,” Captain Davenport pointed it out on the +chart, which he had spread on the house. “It can't be more than a +hundred miles to leeward.” + +“A hundred and ten.” McCoy shook his head doubtfully. “It might be done, +but it is very difficult. I might beach her, and then again I might put +her on the reef. A bad place, a very bad place.” + +“We'll take the chance,” was Captain Davenport's decision, as he set +about working out the course. + +Sail was shortened early in the afternoon, to avoid running past in +the night; and in the second dog-watch the crew manifested its regained +cheerfulness. Land was so very near, and their troubles would be over in +the morning. + +But morning broke clear, with a blazing tropic sun. The southeast trade +had swung around to the eastward, and was driving the PYRENEES through +the water at an eight-knot clip. Captain Davenport worked up his dead +reckoning, allowing generously for drift, and announced Moerenhout +Island to be not more than ten miles off. The Pyrenees sailed the +ten miles; she sailed ten miles more; and the lookouts at the three +mastheads saw naught but the naked, sun-washed sea. + +“But the land is there, I tell you,” Captain Davenport shouted to them +from the poop. + +McCoy smiled soothingly, but the captain glared about him like a madman, +fetched his sextant, and took a chronometer sight. + +“I knew I was right,” he almost shouted, when he had worked up the +observation. “Twenty-one, fifty-five, south; one-thirty-six, two, west. +There you are. We're eight miles to windward yet. What did you make it +out, Mr. Konig?” + +The first mate glanced at his own figures, and said in a low voice: + +“Twenty-one, fifty-five all right; but my longitude's one-thirty-six, +forty-eight. That puts us considerably to leeward--” + +But Captain Davenport ignored his figures with so contemptuous a silence +as to make Mr. Konig grit his teeth and curse savagely under his breath. + +“Keep her off,” the captain ordered the man at the wheel. “Three +points--steady there, as she goes!” + +Then he returned to his figures and worked them over. The sweat poured +from his face. He chewed his mustache, his lips, and his pencil, staring +at the figures as a man might at a ghost. Suddenly, with a fierce, +muscular outburst, he crumpled the scribbled paper in his fist and +crushed it under foot. Mr. Konig grinned vindictively and turned away, +while Captain Davenport leaned against the cabin and for half an +hour spoke no word, contenting himself with gazing to leeward with an +expression of musing hopelessness on his face. + +“Mr. McCoy,” he broke silence abruptly. “The chart indicates a group +of islands, but not how many, off there to the north'ard, or +nor'-nor'westward, about forty miles--the Acteon Islands. What about +them?” + +“There are four, all low,” McCoy answered. “First to the southeast is +Matuerui--no people, no entrance to the lagoon. Then comes Tenarunga. +There used to be about a dozen people there, but they may be all gone +now. Anyway, there is no entrance for a ship--only a boat entrance, +with a fathom of water. Vehauga and Teua-raro are the other two. No +entrances, no people, very low. There is no bed for the Pyrenees in that +group. She would be a total wreck.” + +“Listen to that!” Captain Davenport was frantic. “No people! No +entrances! What in the devil are islands good for? + +“Well, then,” he barked suddenly, like an excited terrier, “the chart +gives a whole mess of islands off to the nor'west. What about them? What +one has an entrance where I can lay my ship?” + +McCoy calmly considered. He did not refer to the chart. All these +islands, reefs, shoals, lagoons, entrances, and distances were marked +on the chart of his memory. He knew them as the city dweller knows his +buildings, streets, and alleys. + +“Papakena and Vanavana are off there to the westward, or +west-nor'westward a hundred miles and a bit more,” he said. “One is +uninhabited, and I heard that the people on the other had gone off to +Cadmus Island. Anyway, neither lagoon has an entrance. Ahunui is another +hundred miles on to the nor'west. No entrance, no people.” + +“Well, forty miles beyond them are two islands?” Captain Davenport +queried, raising his head from the chart. + +McCoy shook his head. + +“Paros and Manuhungi--no entrances, no people. Nengo-Nengo is forty +miles beyond them, in turn, and it has no people and no entrance. But +there is Hao Island. It is just the place. The lagoon is thirty miles +long and five miles wide. There are plenty of people. You can usually +find water. And any ship in the world can go through the entrance.” + +He ceased and gazed solicitously at Captain Davenport, who, bending over +the chart with a pair of dividers in hand, had just emitted a low groan. + +“Is there any lagoon with an entrance anywhere nearer than Hao Island?” + he asked. + +“No, Captain; that is the nearest.” + +“Well, it's three hundred and forty miles.” Captain Davenport was +speaking very slowly, with decision. “I won't risk the responsibility of +all these lives. I'll wreck her on the Acteons. And she's a good ship, +too,” he added regretfully, after altering the course, this time making +more allowance than ever for the westerly current. + +An hour later the sky was overcast. The southeast trade still held, but +the ocean was a checker board of squalls. + +“We'll be there by one o'clock,” Captain Davenport announced +confidently. “By two o'clock at the outside. McCoy, you put her ashore +on the one where the people are.” + +The sun did not appear again, nor, at one o'clock, was any land to be +seen. Captain Davenport looked astern at the Pyrenees' canting wake. + +“Good Lord!” he cried. “An easterly current? Look at that!” + +Mr. Konig was incredulous. McCoy was noncommittal, though he said that +in the Paumotus there was no reason why it should not be an easterly +current. A few minutes later a squall robbed the Pyrenees temporarily of +all her wind, and she was left rolling heavily in the trough. + +“Where's that deep lead? Over with it, you there!” Captain Davenport +held the lead line and watched it sag off to the northeast. “There, look +at that! Take hold of it for yourself.” + +McCoy and the mate tried it, and felt the line thrumming and vibrating +savagely to the grip of the tidal stream. + +“A four-knot current,” said Mr. Konig. + +“An easterly current instead of a westerly,” said Captain “Davenport, +glaring accusingly at McCoy, as if to cast the blame for it upon him. + +“That is one of the reasons, Captain, for insurance being eighteen per +cent in these waters,” McCoy answered cheerfully. “You can never tell. +The currents are always changing. There was a man who wrote books, I +forget his name, in the yacht Casco. He missed Takaroa by thirty miles +and fetched Tikei, all because of the shifting currents. You are up to +windward now, and you'd better keep off a few points.” + +“But how much has this current set me?” the captain demanded irately. +“How am I to know how much to keep off?” + +“I don't know, Captain,” McCoy said with great gentleness. + +The wind returned, and the PYRENEES, her deck smoking and shimmering in +the bright gray light, ran off dead to leeward. Then she worked back, +port tack and starboard tack, crisscrossing her track, combing the sea +for the Acteon Islands, which the masthead lookouts failed to sight. + +Captain Davenport was beside himself. His rage took the form of sullen +silence, and he spent the afternoon in pacing the poop or leaning +against the weather shrouds. At nightfall, without even consulting +McCoy, he squared away and headed into the northwest. Mr. Konig, +surreptitiously consulting chart and binnacle, and McCoy, openly and +innocently consulting the binnacle, knew that they were running for Hao +Island. By midnight the squalls ceased, and the stars came out. Captain +Davenport was cheered by the promise of a clear day. + +“I'll get an observation in the morning,” he told McCoy, “though what +my latitude is, is a puzzler. But I'll use the Sumner method, and settle +that. Do you know the Sumner line?” + +And thereupon he explained it in detail to McCoy. + +The day proved clear, the trade blew steadily out of the east, and the +Pyrenees just as steadily logged her nine knots. Both the captain and +mate worked out the position on a Sumner line, and agreed, and at noon +agreed again, and verified the morning sights by the noon sights. + +“Another twenty-four hours and we'll be there,” Captain Davenport +assured McCoy. “It's a miracle the way the old girl's decks hold out. +But they can't last. They can't last. Look at them smoke, more and +more every day. Yet it was a tight deck to begin with, fresh-calked in +Frisco. I was surprised when the fire first broke out and we battened +down. Look at that!” + +He broke off to gaze with dropped jaw at a spiral of smoke that coiled +and twisted in the lee of the mizzenmast twenty feet above the deck. + +“Now, how did that get there?” he demanded indignantly. + +Beneath it there was no smoke. Crawling up from the deck, sheltered from +the wind by the mast, by some freak it took form and visibility at that +height. It writhed away from the mast, and for a moment overhung the +captain like some threatening portent. The next moment the wind whisked +it away, and the captain's jaw returned to place. + +“As I was saying, when we first battened down, I was surprised. It was +a tight deck, yet it leaked smoke like a sieve. And we've calked and +calked ever since. There must be tremendous pressure underneath to drive +so much smoke through.” + +That afternoon the sky became overcast again, and squally, drizzly +weather set in. The wind shifted back and forth between southeast and +northeast, and at midnight the Pyrenees was caught aback by a sharp +squall from the southwest, from which point the wind continued to blow +intermittently. + +“We won't make Hao until ten or eleven,” Captain Davenport complained +at seven in the morning, when the fleeting promise of the sun had been +erased by hazy cloud masses in the eastern sky. And the next moment he +was plaintively demanding, “And what are the currents doing?” + +Lookouts at the mastheads could report no land, and the day passed in +drizzling calms and violent squalls. By nightfall a heavy sea began +to make from the west. The barometer had fallen to 29.50. There was no +wind, and still the ominous sea continued to increase. Soon the +Pyrenees was rolling madly in the huge waves that marched in an unending +procession from out of the darkness of the west. Sail was shortened as +fast as both watches could work, and, when the tired crew had finished, +its grumbling and complaining voices, peculiarly animal-like and +menacing, could be heard in the darkness. Once the starboard watch was +called aft to lash down and make secure, and the men openly advertised +their sullenness and unwillingness. Every slow movement was a protest +and a threat. The atmosphere was moist and sticky like mucilage, and in +the absence of wind all hands seemed to pant and gasp for air. The sweat +stood out on faces and bare arms, and Captain Davenport for one, his +face more gaunt and care-worn than ever, and his eyes troubled and +staring, was oppressed by a feeling of impending calamity. + +“It's off to the westward,” McCoy said encouragingly. “At worst, we'll +be only on the edge of it.” + +But Captain Davenport refused to be comforted, and by the light of a +lantern read up the chapter in his Epitome that related to the strategy +of shipmasters in cyclonic storms. From somewhere amidships the silence +was broken by a low whimpering from the cabin boy. + +“Oh, shut up!” Captain Davenport yelled suddenly and with such force as +to startle every man on board and to frighten the offender into a wild +wail of terror. + +“Mr. Konig,” the captain said in a voice that trembled with rage and +nerves, “will you kindly step for'ard and stop that brat's mouth with a +deck mop?” + +But it was McCoy who went forward, and in a few minutes had the boy +comforted and asleep. + +Shortly before daybreak the first breath of air began to move from out +the southeast, increasing swiftly to a stiff and stiffer breeze. All +hands were on deck waiting for what might be behind it. “We're all +right now, Captain,” said McCoy, standing close to his shoulder. “The +hurricane is to the west'ard, and we are south of it. This breeze is the +in-suck. It won't blow any harder. You can begin to put sail on her.” + +“But what's the good? Where shall I sail? This is the second day without +observations, and we should have sighted Hao Island yesterday morning. +Which way does it bear, north, south, east, or what? Tell me that, and +I'll make sail in a jiffy.” + +“I am no navigator, Captain,” McCoy said in his mild way. + +“I used to think I was one,” was the retort, “before I got into these +Paumotus.” + +At midday the cry of “Breakers ahead!” was heard from the lookout. The +Pyrenees was kept off, and sail after sail was loosed and sheeted home. +The Pyrenees was sliding through the water and fighting a current that +threatened to set her down upon the breakers. Officers and men were +working like mad, cook and cabin boy, Captain Davenport himself, and +McCoy all lending a hand. It was a close shave. It was a low shoal, a +bleak and perilous place over which the seas broke unceasingly, where no +man could live, and on which not even sea birds could rest. The PYRENEES +was swept within a hundred yards of it before the wind carried her +clear, and at this moment the panting crew, its work done, burst out +in a torrent of curses upon the head of McCoy--of McCoy who had come on +board, and proposed the run to Mangareva, and lured them all away from +the safety of Pitcairn Island to certain destruction in this baffling +and terrible stretch of sea. But McCoy's tranquil soul was undisturbed. +He smiled at them with simple and gracious benevolence, and, somehow, +the exalted goodness of him seemed to penetrate to their dark and somber +souls, shaming them, and from very shame stilling the curses vibrating +in their throats. + +“Bad waters! Bad waters!” Captain Davenport was murmuring as his ship +forged clear; but he broke off abruptly to gaze at the shoal which +should have been dead astern, but which was already on the PYRENEES' +weather-quarter and working up rapidly to windward. + +He sat down and buried his face in his hands. And the first mate saw, +and McCoy saw, and the crew saw, what he had seen. South of the shoal +an easterly current had set them down upon it; north of the shoal an +equally swift westerly current had clutched the ship and was sweeping +her away. + +“I've heard of these Paumotus before,” the captain groaned, lifting +his blanched face from his hands. “Captain Moyendale told me about them +after losing his ship on them. And I laughed at him behind his back. God +forgive me, I laughed at him. What shoal is that?” he broke off, to ask +McCoy. + +“I don't know, Captain.” + +“Why don't you know?” + +“Because I never saw it before, and because I have never heard of it. I +do know that it is not charted. These waters have never been thoroughly +surveyed.” + +“Then you don't know where we are?” + +“No more than you do,” McCoy said gently. + +At four in the afternoon cocoanut trees were sighted, apparently growing +out of the water. A little later the low land of an atoll was raised +above the sea. + +“I know where we are now, Captain.” McCoy lowered the glasses from his +eyes. “That's Resolution Island. We are forty miles beyond Hao Island, +and the wind is in our teeth.” + +“Get ready to beach her then. Where's the entrance?” + +“There's only a canoe passage. But now that we know where we are, we can +run for Barclay de Tolley. It is only one hundred and twenty miles +from here, due nor'-nor'west. With this breeze we can be there by nine +o'clock tomorrow morning.” + +Captain Davenport consulted the chart and debated with himself. + +“If we wreck her here,” McCoy added, “we'd have to make the run to +Barclay de Tolley in the boats just the same.” + +The captain gave his orders, and once more the Pyrenees swung off for +another run across the inhospitable sea. + +And the middle of the next afternoon saw despair and mutiny on her +smoking deck. The current had accelerated, the wind had slackened, and +the Pyrenees had sagged off to the west. The lookout sighted Barclay de +Tolley to the eastward, barely visible from the masthead, and vainly and +for hours the PYRENEES tried to beat up to it. Ever, like a mirage, the +cocoanut trees hovered on the horizon, visible only from the masthead. +From the deck they were hidden by the bulge of the world. + +Again Captain Davenport consulted McCoy and the chart. Makemo lay +seventy-five miles to the southwest. Its lagoon was thirty miles long, +and its entrance was excellent. When Captain Davenport gave his orders, +the crew refused duty. They announced that they had had enough of hell +fire under their feet. There was the land. What if the ship could not +make it? They could make it in the boats. Let her burn, then. Their +lives amounted to something to them. They had served faithfully the +ship, now they were going to serve themselves. + +They sprang to the boats, brushing the second and third mates out of the +way, and proceeded to swing the boats out and to prepare to lower away. +Captain Davenport and the first mate, revolvers in hand, were advancing +to the break of the poop, when McCoy, who had climbed on top of the +cabin, began to speak. + +He spoke to the sailors, and at the first sound of his dovelike, +cooing voice they paused to hear. He extended to them his own ineffable +serenity and peace. His soft voice and simple thoughts flowed out +to them in a magic stream, soothing them against their wills. Long +forgotten things came back to them, and some remembered lullaby songs of +childhood and the content and rest of the mother's arm at the end of the +day. There was no more trouble, no more danger, no more irk, in all +the world. Everything was as it should be, and it was only a matter of +course that they should turn their backs upon the land and put to sea +once more with hell fire hot beneath their feet. + +McCoy spoke simply; but it was not what he spoke. It was his personality +that spoke more eloquently than any word he could utter. It was an +alchemy of soul occultly subtile and profoundly deep--a mysterious +emanation of the spirit, seductive, sweetly humble, and terribly +imperious. It was illumination in the dark crypts of their souls, a +compulsion of purity and gentleness vastly greater than that which +resided in the shining, death-spitting revolvers of the officers. + +The men wavered reluctantly where they stood, and those who had loosed +the turns made them fast again. Then one, and then another, and then all +of them, began to sidle awkwardly away. + +McCoy's face was beaming with childlike pleasure as he descended from +the top of the cabin. There was no trouble. For that matter there had +been no trouble averted. There never had been any trouble, for there was +no place for such in the blissful world in which he lived. + +“You hypnotized em,” Mr. Konig grinned at him, speaking in a low voice. + +“Those boys are good,” was the answer. “Their hearts are good. They have +had a hard time, and they have worked hard, and they will work hard to +the end.” + +Mr. Konig had not time to reply. His voice was ringing out orders, the +sailors were springing to obey, and the PYRENEES was paying slowly off +from the wind until her bow should point in the direction of Makemo. + +The wind was very light, and after sundown almost ceased. It was +insufferably warm, and fore and aft men sought vainly to sleep. The deck +was too hot to lie upon, and poisonous vapors, oozing through the seams, +crept like evil spirits over the ship, stealing into the nostrils and +windpipes of the unwary and causing fits of sneezing and coughing. +The stars blinked lazily in the dim vault overhead; and the full moon, +rising in the east, touched with its light the myriads of wisps and +threads and spidery films of smoke that intertwined and writhed and +twisted along the deck, over the rails, and up the masts and shrouds. + +“Tell me,” Captain Davenport said, rubbing his smarting eyes, “what +happened with that BOUNTY crowd after they reached Pitcairn? The account +I read said they burnt the Bounty, and that they were not discovered +until many years later. But what happened in the meantime? I've always +been curious to know. They were men with their necks in the rope. There +were some native men, too. And then there were women. That made it look +like trouble right from the jump.” + +“There was trouble,” McCoy answered. “They were bad men. They quarreled +about the women right away. One of the mutineers, Williams, lost his +wife. All the women were Tahitian women. His wife fell from the cliffs +when hunting sea birds. Then he took the wife of one of the native men +away from him. All the native men were made very angry by this, and they +killed off nearly all the mutineers. Then the mutineers that escaped +killed off all the native men. The women helped. And the natives killed +each other. Everybody killed everybody. They were terrible men. + +“Timiti was killed by two other natives while they were combing his hair +in friendship. The white men had sent them to do it. Then the white +men killed them. The wife of Tullaloo killed him in a cave because she +wanted a white man for husband. They were very wicked. God had hidden +His face from them. At the end of two years all the native men were +murdered, and all the white men except four. They were Young, John +Adams, McCoy, who was my great-grandfather, and Quintal. He was a very +bad man, too. Once, just because his wife did not catch enough fish for +him, he bit off her ear.” + +“They were a bad lot!” Mr. Konig exclaimed. + +“Yes, they were very bad,” McCoy agreed and went on serenely cooing of +the blood and lust of his iniquitous ancestry. “My great-grandfather +escaped murder in order to die by his own hand. He made a still and +manufactured alcohol from the roots of the ti-plant. Quintal was his +chum, and they got drunk together all the time. At last McCoy got +delirium tremens, tied a rock to his neck, and jumped into the sea. + +“Quintal's wife, the one whose ear he bit off, also got killed by +falling from the cliffs. Then Quintal went to Young and demanded his +wife, and went to Adams and demanded his wife. Adams and Young were +afraid of Quintal. They knew he would kill them. So they killed him, +the two of them together, with a hatchet. Then Young died. And that was +about all the trouble they had.” + +“I should say so,” Captain Davenport snorted. “There was nobody left to +kill.” + +“You see, God had hidden His face,” McCoy said. + +By morning no more than a faint air was blowing from the eastward, and, +unable to make appreciable southing by it, Captain Davenport hauled up +full-and-by on the port track. He was afraid of that terrible westerly +current which had cheated him out of so many ports of refuge. All day +the calm continued, and all night, while the sailors, on a short ration +of dried banana, were grumbling. Also, they were growing weak and +complaining of stomach pains caused by the straight banana diet. All day +the current swept the PYRENEES to the westward, while there was no wind +to bear her south. In the middle of the first dogwatch, cocoanut trees +were sighted due south, their tufted heads rising above the water and +marking the low-lying atoll beneath. + +“That is Taenga Island,” McCoy said. “We need a breeze tonight, or else +we'll miss Makemo.” + +“What's become of the southeast trade?” the captain demanded. “Why don't +it blow? What's the matter?” + +“It is the evaporation from the big lagoons--there are so many of them,” + McCoy explained. “The evaporation upsets the whole system of trades. It +even causes the wind to back up and blow gales from the southwest. This +is the Dangerous Archipelago, Captain.” + +Captain Davenport faced the old man, opened his mouth, and was about to +curse, but paused and refrained. McCoy's presence was a rebuke to +the blasphemies that stirred in his brain and trembled in his larynx. +McCoy's influence had been growing during the many days they had been +together. Captain Davenport was an autocrat of the sea, fearing no man, +never bridling his tongue, and now he found himself unable to curse in +the presence of this old man with the feminine brown eyes and the +voice of a dove. When he realized this, Captain Davenport experienced a +distinct shock. This old man was merely the seed of McCoy, of McCoy +of the BOUNTY, the mutineer fleeing from the hemp that waited him in +England, the McCoy who was a power for evil in the early days of blood +and lust and violent death on Pitcairn Island. + +Captain Davenport was not religious, yet in that moment he felt a mad +impulse to cast himself at the other's feet--and to say he knew not +what. It was an emotion that so deeply stirred him, rather than +a coherent thought, and he was aware in some vague way of his own +unworthiness and smallness in the presence of this other man who +possessed the simplicity of a child and the gentleness of a woman. + +Of course he could not so humble himself before the eyes of his officers +and men. And yet the anger that had prompted the blasphemy still raged +in him. He suddenly smote the cabin with his clenched hand and cried: + +“Look here, old man, I won't be beaten. These Paumotus have cheated and +tricked me and made a fool of me. I refuse to be beaten. I am going +to drive this ship, and drive and drive and drive clear through the +Paumotus to China but what I find a bed for her. If every man deserts, +I'll stay by her. I'll show the Paumotus. They can't fool me. She's a +good girl, and I'll stick by her as long as there's a plank to stand on. +You hear me?” + +“And I'll stay with you, Captain,” McCoy said. + +During the night, light, baffling airs blew out of the south, and +the frantic captain, with his cargo of fire, watched and measured his +westward drift and went off by himself at times to curse softly so that +McCoy should not hear. + +Daylight showed more palms growing out of the water to the south. + +“That's the leeward point of Makemo,” McCoy said. “Katiu is only a few +miles to the west. We may make that.” + +But the current, sucking between the two islands, swept them to the +northwest, and at one in the afternoon they saw the palms of Katiu rise +above the sea and sink back into the sea again. + +A few minutes later, just as the captain had discovered that a new +current from the northeast had gripped the Pyrenees, the masthead +lookouts raised cocoanut palms in the northwest. + +“It is Raraka,” said McCoy. “We won't make it without wind. The current +is drawing us down to the southwest. But we must watch out. A few miles +farther on a current flows north and turns in a circle to the northwest. +This will sweep us away from Fakarava, and Fakarava is the place for the +Pyrenees to find her bed.” + +“They can sweep all they da--all they well please,” Captain Davenport +remarked with heat. “We'll find a bed for her somewhere just the same.” + +But the situation on the Pyrenees was reaching a culmination. The deck +was so hot that it seemed an increase of a few degrees would cause it to +burst into flames. In many places even the heavy-soled shoes of the +men were no protection, and they were compelled to step lively to avoid +scorching their feet. The smoke had increased and grown more acrid. +Every man on board was suffering from inflamed eyes, and they coughed +and strangled like a crew of tuberculosis patients. In the afternoon the +boats were swung out and equipped. The last several packages of dried +bananas were stored in them, as well as the instruments of the officers. +Captain Davenport even put the chronometer into the longboat, fearing +the blowing up of the deck at any moment. + +All night this apprehension weighed heavily on all, and in the first +morning light, with hollow eyes and ghastly faces, they stared at one +another as if in surprise that the Pyrenees still held together and that +they still were alive. + +Walking rapidly at times, and even occasionally breaking into an +undignified hop-skip-and-run, Captain Davenport inspected his ship's +deck. + +“It is a matter of hours now, if not of minutes,” he announced on his +return to the poop. + +The cry of land came down from the masthead. From the deck the land was +invisible, and McCoy went aloft, while the captain took advantage of the +opportunity to curse some of the bitterness out of his heart. But +the cursing was suddenly stopped by a dark line on the water which he +sighted to the northeast. It was not a squall, but a regular breeze--the +disrupted trade wind, eight points out of its direction but resuming +business once more. + +“Hold her up, Captain,” McCoy said as soon as he reached the poop. +“That's the easterly point of Fakarava, and we'll go in through the +passage full-tilt, the wind abeam, and every sail drawing.” + +At the end of an hour, the cocoanut trees and the low-lying land +were visible from the deck. The feeling that the end of the PYRENEES' +resistance was imminent weighed heavily on everybody. Captain Davenport +had the three boats lowered and dropped short astern, a man in each +to keep them apart. The Pyrenees closely skirted the shore, the +surf-whitened atoll a bare two cable lengths away. + +And a minute later the land parted, exposing a narrow passage and the +lagoon beyond, a great mirror, thirty miles in length and a third as +broad. + +“Now, Captain.” + +For the last time the yards of the Pyrenees swung around as she obeyed +the wheel and headed into the passage. The turns had scarcely been made, +and nothing had been coiled down, when the men and mates swept back to +the poop in panic terror. Nothing had happened, yet they averred that +something was going to happen. They could not tell why. They merely +knew that it was about to happen. McCoy started forward to take up +his position on the bow in order to con the vessel in; but the captain +gripped his arm and whirled him around. + +“Do it from here,” he said. “That deck's not safe. What's the matter?” + he demanded the next instant. “We're standing still.” + +McCoy smiled. + +“You are bucking a seven-knot current, Captain,” he said. “That is the +way the full ebb runs out of this passage.” + +At the end of another hour the Pyrenees had scarcely gained her length, +but the wind freshened and she began to forge ahead. + +“Better get into the boats, some of you,” Captain Davenport commanded. + +His voice was still ringing, and the men were just beginning to move in +obedience, when the amidship deck of the Pyrenees, in a mass of flame +and smoke, was flung upward into the sails and rigging, part of it +remaining there and the rest falling into the sea. The wind being abeam, +was what had saved the men crowded aft. They made a blind rush to gain +the boats, but McCoy's voice, carrying its convincing message of vast +calm and endless time, stopped them. + +“Take it easy,” he was saying. “Everything is all right. Pass that boy +down somebody, please.” + +The man at the wheel had forsaken it in a funk, and Captain Davenport +had leaped and caught the spokes in time to prevent the ship from yawing +in the current and going ashore. + +“Better take charge of the boats,” he said to Mr. Konig. “Tow one of +them short, right under the quarter.... When I go over, it'll be on the +jump.” + +Mr. Konig hesitated, then went over the rail and lowered himself into +the boat. + +“Keep her off half a point, Captain.” + +Captain Davenport gave a start. He had thought he had the ship to +himself. + +“Ay, ay; half a point it is,” he answered. + +Amidships the Pyrenees was an open flaming furnace, out of which +poured an immense volume of smoke which rose high above the masts and +completely hid the forward part of the ship. McCoy, in the shelter of +the mizzen-shrouds, continued his difficult task of conning the ship +through the intricate channel. The fire was working aft along the deck +from the seat of explosion, while the soaring tower of canvas on the +mainmast went up and vanished in a sheet of flame. Forward, though they +could not see them, they knew that the head-sails were still drawing. + +“If only she don't burn all her canvas off before she makes inside,” the +captain groaned. + +“She'll make it,” McCoy assured him with supreme confidence. “There is +plenty of time. She is bound to make it. And once inside, we'll put her +before it; that will keep the smoke away from us and hold back the fire +from working aft.” + +A tongue of flame sprang up the mizzen, reached hungrily for the lowest +tier of canvas, missed it, and vanished. From aloft a burning shred of +rope stuff fell square on the back of Captain Davenport's neck. He acted +with the celerity of one stung by a bee as he reached up and brushed the +offending fire from his skin. + +“How is she heading, Captain?” + +“Nor'west by west.” + +“Keep her west-nor-west.” + +Captain Davenport put the wheel up and steadied her. + +“West by north, Captain.” + +“West by north she is.” + +“And now west.” + +Slowly, point by point, as she entered the lagoon, the PYRENEES +described the circle that put her before the wind; and point by point, +with all the calm certitude of a thousand years of time to spare, McCoy +chanted the changing course. + +“Another point, Captain.” + +“A point it is.” + +Captain Davenport whirled several spokes over, suddenly reversing and +coming back one to check her. + +“Steady.” + +“Steady she is--right on it.” + +Despite the fact that the wind was now astern, the heat was so intense +that Captain Davenport was compelled to steal sidelong glances into the +binnacle, letting go the wheel now with one hand, now with the other, to +rub or shield his blistering cheeks. + +McCoy's beard was crinkling and shriveling and the smell of it, strong +in the other's nostrils, compelled him to look toward McCoy with sudden +solicitude. Captain Davenport was letting go the spokes alternately with +his hands in order to rub their blistering backs against his trousers. +Every sail on the mizzenmast vanished in a rush of flame, compelling the +two men to crouch and shield their faces. + +“Now,” said McCoy, stealing a glance ahead at the low shore, “four +points up, Captain, and let her drive.” + +Shreds and patches of burning rope and canvas were falling about them +and upon them. The tarry smoke from a smouldering piece of rope at the +captain's feet set him off into a violent coughing fit, during which he +still clung to the spokes. + +The Pyrenees struck, her bow lifted and she ground ahead gently to a +stop. A shower of burning fragments, dislodged by the shock, fell about +them. The ship moved ahead again and struck a second time. She crushed +the fragile coral under her keel, drove on, and struck a third time. + +“Hard over,” said McCoy. “Hard over?” he questioned gently, a minute +later. + +“She won't answer,” was the reply. + +“All right. She is swinging around.” McCoy peered over the side. “Soft, +white sand. Couldn't ask better. A beautiful bed.” + +As the Pyrenees swung around her stern away from the wind, a fearful +blast of smoke and flame poured aft. Captain Davenport deserted the +wheel in blistering agony. He reached the painter of the boat that lay +under the quarter, then looked for McCoy, who was standing aside to let +him go down. + +“You first,” the captain cried, gripping him by the shoulder and almost +throwing him over the rail. But the flame and smoke were too terrible, +and he followed hard after McCoy, both men wriggling on the rope and +sliding down into the boat together. A sailor in the bow, without +waiting for orders, slashed the painter through with his sheath knife. +The oars, poised in readiness, bit into the water, and the boat shot +away. + +“A beautiful bed, Captain,” McCoy murmured, looking back. + +“Ay, a beautiful bed, and all thanks to you,” was the answer. + +The three boats pulled away for the white beach of pounded coral, beyond +which, on the edge of a cocoanut grove, could be seen a half dozen grass +houses and a score or more of excited natives, gazing wide-eyed at the +conflagration that had come to land. + +The boats grounded and they stepped out on the white beach. + +“And now,” said McCoy, “I must see about getting back to Pitcairn.” + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of South Sea Tales, by Jack London + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1208 *** diff --git a/1208-h/1208-h.htm b/1208-h/1208-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..641da49 --- /dev/null +++ b/1208-h/1208-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6381 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <title> + South Sea Tales, by Jack London + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1208 ***</div> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + SOUTH SEA TALES + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Jack London + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> THE HOUSE OF MAPUHI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> THE WHALE TOOTH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> MAUKI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> “YAH! YAH! YAH!” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> THE HEATHEN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> THE TERRIBLE SOLOMONS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> THE INEVITABLE WHITE MAN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> THE SEED OF McCOY </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + THE HOUSE OF MAPUHI + </h2> + <p> + Despite the heavy clumsiness of her lines, the Aorai handled easily in the + light breeze, and her captain ran her well in before he hove to just + outside the suck of the surf. The atoll of Hikueru lay low on the water, a + circle of pounded coral sand a hundred yards wide, twenty miles in + circumference, and from three to five feet above high-water mark. On the + bottom of the huge and glassy lagoon was much pearl shell, and from the + deck of the schooner, across the slender ring of the atoll, the divers + could be seen at work. But the lagoon had no entrance for even a trading + schooner. With a favoring breeze cutters could win in through the tortuous + and shallow channel, but the schooners lay off and on outside and sent in + their small boats. + </p> + <p> + The Aorai swung out a boat smartly, into which sprang half a dozen + brown-skinned sailors clad only in scarlet loincloths. They took the oars, + while in the stern sheets, at the steering sweep, stood a young man garbed + in the tropic white that marks the European. The golden strain of + Polynesia betrayed itself in the sun-gilt of his fair skin and cast up + golden sheens and lights through the glimmering blue of his eyes. Raoul he + was, Alexandre Raoul, youngest son of Marie Raoul, the wealthy + quarter-caste, who owned and managed half a dozen trading schooners + similar to the Aorai. Across an eddy just outside the entrance, and in and + through and over a boiling tide-rip, the boat fought its way to the + mirrored calm of the lagoon. Young Raoul leaped out upon the white sand + and shook hands with a tall native. The man's chest and shoulders were + magnificent, but the stump of a right arm, beyond the flesh of which the + age-whitened bone projected several inches, attested the encounter with a + shark that had put an end to his diving days and made him a fawner and an + intriguer for small favors. + </p> + <p> + “Have you heard, Alec?” were his first words. “Mapuhi has found a pearl—such + a pearl. Never was there one like it ever fished up in Hikueru, nor in all + the Paumotus, nor in all the world. Buy it from him. He has it now. And + remember that I told you first. He is a fool and you can get it cheap. + Have you any tobacco?” + </p> + <p> + Straight up the beach to a shack under a pandanus tree Raoul headed. He + was his mother's supercargo, and his business was to comb all the Paumotus + for the wealth of copra, shell, and pearls that they yielded up. + </p> + <p> + He was a young supercargo, it was his second voyage in such capacity, and + he suffered much secret worry from his lack of experience in pricing + pearls. But when Mapuhi exposed the pearl to his sight he managed to + suppress the startle it gave him, and to maintain a careless, commercial + expression on his face. For the pearl had struck him a blow. It was large + as a pigeon egg, a perfect sphere, of a whiteness that reflected + opalescent lights from all colors about it. It was alive. Never had he + seen anything like it. When Mapuhi dropped it into his hand he was + surprised by the weight of it. That showed that it was a good pearl. He + examined it closely, through a pocket magnifying glass. It was without + flaw or blemish. The purity of it seemed almost to melt into the + atmosphere out of his hand. In the shade it was softly luminous, gleaming + like a tender moon. So translucently white was it, that when he dropped it + into a glass of water he had difficulty in finding it. So straight and + swiftly had it sunk to the bottom that he knew its weight was excellent. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what do you want for it?” he asked, with a fine assumption of + nonchalance. + </p> + <p> + “I want—” Mapuhi began, and behind him, framing his own dark face, + the dark faces of two women and a girl nodded concurrence in what he + wanted. Their heads were bent forward, they were animated by a suppressed + eagerness, their eyes flashed avariciously. + </p> + <p> + “I want a house,” Mapuhi went on. “It must have a roof of galvanized iron + and an octagon-drop-clock. It must be six fathoms long with a porch all + around. A big room must be in the centre, with a round table in the middle + of it and the octagon-drop-clock on the wall. There must be four bedrooms, + two on each side of the big room, and in each bedroom must be an iron bed, + two chairs, and a washstand. And back of the house must be a kitchen, a + good kitchen, with pots and pans and a stove. And you must build the house + on my island, which is Fakarava.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that all?” Raoul asked incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “There must be a sewing machine,” spoke up Tefara, Mapuhi's wife. + </p> + <p> + “Not forgetting the octagon-drop-clock,” added Nauri, Mapuhi's mother. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is all,” said Mapuhi. + </p> + <p> + Young Raoul laughed. He laughed long and heartily. But while he laughed he + secretly performed problems in mental arithmetic. He had never built a + house in his life, and his notions concerning house building were hazy. + While he laughed, he calculated the cost of the voyage to Tahiti for + materials, of the materials themselves, of the voyage back again to + Fakarava, and the cost of landing the materials and of building the house. + It would come to four thousand French dollars, allowing a margin for + safety—four thousand French dollars were equivalent to twenty + thousand francs. It was impossible. How was he to know the value of such a + pearl? Twenty thousand francs was a lot of money—and of his mother's + money at that. + </p> + <p> + “Mapuhi,” he said, “you are a big fool. Set a money price.” + </p> + <p> + But Mapuhi shook his head, and the three heads behind him shook with his. + </p> + <p> + “I want the house,” he said. “It must be six fathoms long with a porch all + around—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” Raoul interrupted. “I know all about your house, but it won't + do. I'll give you a thousand Chili dollars.” + </p> + <p> + The four heads chorused a silent negative. + </p> + <p> + “And a hundred Chili dollars in trade.” + </p> + <p> + “I want the house,” Mapuhi began. + </p> + <p> + “What good will the house do you?” Raoul demanded. “The first hurricane + that comes along will wash it away. You ought to know.” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Raffy says it looks like a hurricane right now.” + </p> + <p> + “Not on Fakarava,” said Mapuhi. “The land is much higher there. On this + island, yes. Any hurricane can sweep Hikueru. I will have the house on + Fakarava. It must be six fathoms long with a porch all around—” + </p> + <p> + And Raoul listened again to the tale of the house. Several hours he spent + in the endeavor to hammer the house obsession out of Mapuhi's mind; but + Mapuhi's mother and wife, and Ngakura, Mapuhi's daughter, bolstered him in + his resolve for the house. Through the open doorway, while he listened for + the twentieth time to the detailed description of the house that was + wanted, Raoul saw his schooner's second boat draw up on the beach. The + sailors rested on the oars, advertising haste to be gone. The first mate + of the Aorai sprang ashore, exchanged a word with the one-armed native, + then hurried toward Raoul. The day grew suddenly dark, as a squall + obscured the face of the sun. Across the lagoon Raoul could see + approaching the ominous line of the puff of wind. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Raffy says you've got to get to hell outa here,” was the mate's + greeting. “If there's any shell, we've got to run the risk of picking it + up later on—so he says. The barometer's dropped to + twenty-nine-seventy.” + </p> + <p> + The gust of wind struck the pandanus tree overhead and tore through the + palms beyond, flinging half a dozen ripe cocoanuts with heavy thuds to the + ground. Then came the rain out of the distance, advancing with the roar of + a gale of wind and causing the water of the lagoon to smoke in driven + windrows. The sharp rattle of the first drops was on the leaves when Raoul + sprang to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “A thousand Chili dollars, cash down, Mapuhi,” he said. “And two hundred + Chili dollars in trade.” + </p> + <p> + “I want a house—” the other began. + </p> + <p> + “Mapuhi!” Raoul yelled, in order to make himself heard. “You are a fool!” + </p> + <p> + He flung out of the house, and, side by side with the mate, fought his way + down the beach toward the boat. They could not see the boat. The tropic + rain sheeted about them so that they could see only the beach under their + feet and the spiteful little waves from the lagoon that snapped and bit at + the sand. A figure appeared through the deluge. It was Huru-Huru, the man + with the one arm. + </p> + <p> + “Did you get the pearl?” he yelled in Raoul's ear. + </p> + <p> + “Mapuhi is a fool!” was the answering yell, and the next moment they were + lost to each other in the descending water. + </p> + <p> + Half an hour later, Huru-Huru, watching from the seaward side of the + atoll, saw the two boats hoisted in and the Aorai pointing her nose out to + sea. And near her, just come in from the sea on the wings of the squall, + he saw another schooner hove to and dropping a boat into the water. He + knew her. It was the OROHENA, owned by Toriki, the half-caste trader, who + served as his own supercargo and who doubtlessly was even then in the + stern sheets of the boat. Huru-Huru chuckled. He knew that Mapuhi owed + Toriki for trade goods advanced the year before. + </p> + <p> + The squall had passed. The hot sun was blazing down, and the lagoon was + once more a mirror. But the air was sticky like mucilage, and the weight + of it seemed to burden the lungs and make breathing difficult. + </p> + <p> + “Have you heard the news, Toriki?” Huru-Huru asked. “Mapuhi has found a + pearl. Never was there a pearl like it ever fished up in Hikueru, nor + anywhere in the Paumotus, nor anywhere in all the world. Mapuhi is a fool. + Besides, he owes you money. Remember that I told you first. Have you any + tobacco?” + </p> + <p> + And to the grass shack of Mapuhi went Toriki. He was a masterful man, + withal a fairly stupid one. Carelessly he glanced at the wonderful pearl—glanced + for a moment only; and carelessly he dropped it into his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “You are lucky,” he said. “It is a nice pearl. I will give you credit on + the books.” + </p> + <p> + “I want a house,” Mapuhi began, in consternation. “It must be six fathoms—” + </p> + <p> + “Six fathoms your grandmother!” was the trader's retort. “You want to pay + up your debts, that's what you want. You owed me twelve hundred dollars + Chili. Very well; you owe them no longer. The amount is squared. Besides, + I will give you credit for two hundred Chili. If, when I get to Tahiti, + the pearl sells well, I will give you credit for another hundred—that + will make three hundred. But mind, only if the pearl sells well. I may + even lose money on it.” + </p> + <p> + Mapuhi folded his arms in sorrow and sat with bowed head. He had been + robbed of his pearl. In place of the house, he had paid a debt. There was + nothing to show for the pearl. + </p> + <p> + “You are a fool,” said Tefara. + </p> + <p> + “You are a fool,” said Nauri, his mother. “Why did you let the pearl into + his hand?” + </p> + <p> + “What was I to do?” Mapuhi protested. “I owed him the money. He knew I had + the pearl. You heard him yourself ask to see it. I had not told him. He + knew. Somebody else told him. And I owed him the money.” + </p> + <p> + “Mapuhi is a fool,” mimicked Ngakura. + </p> + <p> + She was twelve years old and did not know any better. Mapuhi relieved his + feelings by sending her reeling from a box on the ear; while Tefara and + Nauri burst into tears and continued to upbraid him after the manner of + women. + </p> + <p> + Huru-Huru, watching on the beach, saw a third schooner that he knew heave + to outside the entrance and drop a boat. It was the Hira, well named, for + she was owned by Levy, the German Jew, the greatest pearl buyer of them + all, and, as was well known, Hira was the Tahitian god of fishermen and + thieves. + </p> + <p> + “Have you heard the news?” Huru-Huru asked, as Levy, a fat man with + massive asymmetrical features, stepped out upon the beach. “Mapuhi has + found a pearl. There was never a pearl like it in Hikueru, in all the + Paumotus, in all the world. Mapuhi is a fool. He has sold it to Toriki for + fourteen hundred Chili—I listened outside and heard. Toriki is + likewise a fool. You can buy it from him cheap. Remember that I told you + first. Have you any tobacco?” + </p> + <p> + “Where is Toriki?” + </p> + <p> + “In the house of Captain Lynch, drinking absinthe. He has been there an + hour.” + </p> + <p> + And while Levy and Toriki drank absinthe and chaffered over the pearl, + Huru-Huru listened and heard the stupendous price of twenty-five thousand + francs agreed upon. + </p> + <p> + It was at this time that both the OROHENA and the Hira, running in close + to the shore, began firing guns and signalling frantically. The three men + stepped outside in time to see the two schooners go hastily about and head + off shore, dropping mainsails and flying jibs on the run in the teeth of + the squall that heeled them far over on the whitened water. Then the rain + blotted them out. + </p> + <p> + “They'll be back after it's over,” said Toriki. “We'd better be getting + out of here.” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon the glass has fallen some more,” said Captain Lynch. + </p> + <p> + He was a white-bearded sea-captain, too old for service, who had learned + that the only way to live on comfortable terms with his asthma was on + Hikueru. He went inside to look at the barometer. + </p> + <p> + “Great God!” they heard him exclaim, and rushed in to join him at staring + at a dial, which marked twenty-nine-twenty. + </p> + <p> + Again they came out, this time anxiously to consult sea and sky. The + squall had cleared away, but the sky remained overcast. The two schooners, + under all sail and joined by a third, could be seen making back. A veer in + the wind induced them to slack off sheets, and five minutes afterward a + sudden veer from the opposite quarter caught all three schooners aback, + and those on shore could see the boom-tackles being slacked away or cast + off on the jump. The sound of the surf was loud, hollow, and menacing, and + a heavy swell was setting in. A terrible sheet of lightning burst before + their eyes, illuminating the dark day, and the thunder rolled wildly about + them. + </p> + <p> + Toriki and Levy broke into a run for their boats, the latter ambling along + like a panic-stricken hippopotamus. As their two boats swept out the + entrance, they passed the boat of the Aorai coming in. In the stern + sheets, encouraging the rowers, was Raoul. Unable to shake the vision of + the pearl from his mind, he was returning to accept Mapuhi's price of a + house. + </p> + <p> + He landed on the beach in the midst of a driving thunder squall that was + so dense that he collided with Huru-Huru before he saw him. + </p> + <p> + “Too late,” yelled Huru-Huru. “Mapuhi sold it to Toriki for fourteen + hundred Chili, and Toriki sold it to Levy for twenty-five thousand francs. + And Levy will sell it in France for a hundred thousand francs. Have you + any tobacco?” + </p> + <p> + Raoul felt relieved. His troubles about the pearl were over. He need not + worry any more, even if he had not got the pearl. But he did not believe + Huru-Huru. Mapuhi might well have sold it for fourteen hundred Chili, but + that Levy, who knew pearls, should have paid twenty-five thousand francs + was too wide a stretch. Raoul decided to interview Captain Lynch on the + subject, but when he arrived at that ancient mariner's house, he found him + looking wide-eyed at the barometer. + </p> + <p> + “What do you read it?” Captain Lynch asked anxiously, rubbing his + spectacles and staring again at the instrument. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-nine-ten,” said Raoul. “I have never seen it so low before.” + </p> + <p> + “I should say not!” snorted the captain. “Fifty years boy and man on all + the seas, and I've never seen it go down to that. Listen!” + </p> + <p> + They stood for a moment, while the surf rumbled and shook the house. Then + they went outside. The squall had passed. They could see the Aorai lying + becalmed a mile away and pitching and tossing madly in the tremendous seas + that rolled in stately procession down out of the northeast and flung + themselves furiously upon the coral shore. One of the sailors from the + boat pointed at the mouth of the passage and shook his head. Raoul looked + and saw a white anarchy of foam and surge. + </p> + <p> + “I guess I'll stay with you tonight, Captain,” he said; then turned to the + sailor and told him to haul the boat out and to find shelter for himself + and fellows. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-nine flat,” Captain Lynch reported, coming out from another look + at the barometer, a chair in his hand. + </p> + <p> + He sat down and stared at the spectacle of the sea. The sun came out, + increasing the sultriness of the day, while the dead calm still held. The + seas continued to increase in magnitude. + </p> + <p> + “What makes that sea is what gets me,” Raoul muttered petulantly. + </p> + <p> + “There is no wind, yet look at it, look at that fellow there!” + </p> + <p> + Miles in length, carrying tens of thousands of tons in weight, its impact + shook the frail atoll like an earthquake. Captain Lynch was startled. + </p> + <p> + “Gracious!” he bellowed, half rising from his chair, then sinking back. + </p> + <p> + “But there is no wind,” Raoul persisted. “I could understand it if there + was wind along with it.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll get the wind soon enough without worryin' for it,” was the grim + reply. + </p> + <p> + The two men sat on in silence. The sweat stood out on their skin in + myriads of tiny drops that ran together, forming blotches of moisture, + which, in turn, coalesced into rivulets that dripped to the ground. They + panted for breath, the old man's efforts being especially painful. A sea + swept up the beach, licking around the trunks of the cocoanuts and + subsiding almost at their feet. + </p> + <p> + “Way past high water mark,” Captain Lynch remarked; “and I've been here + eleven years.” He looked at his watch. “It is three o'clock.” + </p> + <p> + A man and woman, at their heels a motley following of brats and curs, + trailed disconsolately by. They came to a halt beyond the house, and, + after much irresolution, sat down in the sand. A few minutes later another + family trailed in from the opposite direction, the men and women carrying + a heterogeneous assortment of possessions. And soon several hundred + persons of all ages and sexes were congregated about the captain's + dwelling. He called to one new arrival, a woman with a nursing babe in her + arms, and in answer received the information that her house had just been + swept into the lagoon. + </p> + <p> + This was the highest spot of land in miles, and already, in many places on + either hand, the great seas were making a clean breach of the slender ring + of the atoll and surging into the lagoon. Twenty miles around stretched + the ring of the atoll, and in no place was it more than fifty fathoms + wide. It was the height of the diving season, and from all the islands + around, even as far as Tahiti, the natives had gathered. + </p> + <p> + “There are twelve hundred men, women, and children here,” said Captain + Lynch. “I wonder how many will be here tomorrow morning.” + </p> + <p> + “But why don't it blow?—that's what I want to know,” Raoul demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Don't worry, young man, don't worry; you'll get your troubles fast + enough.” + </p> + <p> + Even as Captain Lynch spoke, a great watery mass smote the atoll. + </p> + <p> + The sea water churned about them three inches deep under the chairs. A low + wail of fear went up from the many women. The children, with clasped + hands, stared at the immense rollers and cried piteously. Chickens and + cats, wading perturbedly in the water, as by common consent, with flight + and scramble took refuge on the roof of the captain's house. A Paumotan, + with a litter of new-born puppies in a basket, climbed into a cocoanut + tree and twenty feet above the ground made the basket fast. The mother + floundered about in the water beneath, whining and yelping. + </p> + <p> + And still the sun shone brightly and the dead calm continued. They sat and + watched the seas and the insane pitching of the Aorai. Captain Lynch gazed + at the huge mountains of water sweeping in until he could gaze no more. He + covered his face with his hands to shut out the sight; then went into the + house. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-eight-sixty,” he said quietly when he returned. + </p> + <p> + In his arm was a coil of small rope. He cut it into two-fathom lengths, + giving one to Raoul and, retaining one for himself, distributed the + remainder among the women with the advice to pick out a tree and climb. + </p> + <p> + A light air began to blow out of the northeast, and the fan of it on his + cheek seemed to cheer Raoul up. He could see the Aorai trimming her sheets + and heading off shore, and he regretted that he was not on her. She would + get away at any rate, but as for the atoll—A sea breached across, + almost sweeping him off his feet, and he selected a tree. Then he + remembered the barometer and ran back to the house. He encountered Captain + Lynch on the same errand and together they went in. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-eight-twenty,” said the old mariner. “It's going to be fair hell + around here—what was that?” + </p> + <p> + The air seemed filled with the rush of something. The house quivered and + vibrated, and they heard the thrumming of a mighty note of sound. The + windows rattled. Two panes crashed; a draught of wind tore in, striking + them and making them stagger. The door opposite banged shut, shattering + the latch. The white door knob crumbled in fragments to the floor. The + room's walls bulged like a gas balloon in the process of sudden inflation. + Then came a new sound like the rattle of musketry, as the spray from a sea + struck the wall of the house. Captain Lynch looked at his watch. It was + four o'clock. He put on a coat of pilot cloth, unhooked the barometer, and + stowed it away in a capacious pocket. Again a sea struck the house, with a + heavy thud, and the light building tilted, twisted, quarter around on its + foundation, and sank down, its floor at an angle of ten degrees. + </p> + <p> + Raoul went out first. The wind caught him and whirled him away. He noted + that it had hauled around to the east. With a great effort he threw + himself on the sand, crouching and holding his own. Captain Lynch, driven + like a wisp of straw, sprawled over him. Two of the Aorai's sailors, + leaving a cocoanut tree to which they had been clinging, came to their + aid, leaning against the wind at impossible angles and fighting and + clawing every inch of the way. + </p> + <p> + The old man's joints were stiff and he could not climb, so the sailors, by + means of short ends of rope tied together, hoisted him up the trunk, a few + feet at a time, till they could make him fast, at the top of the tree, + fifty feet from the ground. Raoul passed his length of rope around the + base of an adjacent tree and stood looking on. The wind was frightful. He + had never dreamed it could blow so hard. A sea breached across the atoll, + wetting him to the knees ere it subsided into the lagoon. The sun had + disappeared, and a lead-colored twilight settled down. A few drops of + rain, driving horizontally, struck him. The impact was like that of leaden + pellets. A splash of salt spray struck his face. It was like the slap of a + man's hand. His cheeks stung, and involuntary tears of pain were in his + smarting eyes. Several hundred natives had taken to the trees, and he + could have laughed at the bunches of human fruit clustering in the tops. + Then, being Tahitian-born, he doubled his body at the waist, clasped the + trunk of his tree with his hands, pressed the soles of his feet against + the near surface of the trunk, and began to walk up the tree. At the top + he found two women, two children, and a man. One little girl clasped a + housecat in her arms. + </p> + <p> + From his eyrie he waved his hand to Captain Lynch, and that doughty + patriarch waved back. Raoul was appalled at the sky. It had approached + much nearer—in fact, it seemed just over his head; and it had turned + from lead to black. Many people were still on the ground grouped about the + bases of the trees and holding on. Several such clusters were praying, and + in one the Mormon missionary was exhorting. A weird sound, rhythmical, + faint as the faintest chirp of a far cricket, enduring but for a moment, + but in the moment suggesting to him vaguely the thought of heaven and + celestial music, came to his ear. He glanced about him and saw, at the + base of another tree, a large cluster of people holding on by ropes and by + one another. He could see their faces working and their lips moving in + unison. No sound came to him, but he knew that they were singing hymns. + </p> + <p> + Still the wind continued to blow harder. By no conscious process could he + measure it, for it had long since passed beyond all his experience of + wind; but he knew somehow, nevertheless, that it was blowing harder. Not + far away a tree was uprooted, flinging its load of human beings to the + ground. A sea washed across the strip of sand, and they were gone. Things + were happening quickly. He saw a brown shoulder and a black head + silhouetted against the churning white of the lagoon. The next instant + that, too, had vanished. Other trees were going, falling and + criss-crossing like matches. He was amazed at the power of the wind. His + own tree was swaying perilously, one woman was wailing and clutching the + little girl, who in turn still hung on to the cat. + </p> + <p> + The man, holding the other child, touched Raoul's arm and pointed. He + looked and saw the Mormon church careering drunkenly a hundred feet away. + It had been torn from its foundations, and wind and sea were heaving and + shoving it toward the lagoon. A frightful wall of water caught it, tilted + it, and flung it against half a dozen cocoanut trees. The bunches of human + fruit fell like ripe cocoanuts. The subsiding wave showed them on the + ground, some lying motionless, others squirming and writhing. They + reminded him strangely of ants. He was not shocked. He had risen above + horror. Quite as a matter of course he noted the succeeding wave sweep the + sand clean of the human wreckage. A third wave, more colossal than any he + had yet seen, hurled the church into the lagoon, where it floated off into + the obscurity to leeward, half-submerged, reminding him for all the world + of a Noah's ark. + </p> + <p> + He looked for Captain Lynch's house, and was surprised to find it gone. + Things certainly were happening quickly. He noticed that many of the + people in the trees that still held had descended to the ground. The wind + had yet again increased. His own tree showed that. It no longer swayed or + bent over and back. Instead, it remained practically stationary, curved in + a rigid angle from the wind and merely vibrating. But the vibration was + sickening. It was like that of a tuning-fork or the tongue of a + jew's-harp. It was the rapidity of the vibration that made it so bad. Even + though its roots held, it could not stand the strain for long. Something + would have to break. + </p> + <p> + Ah, there was one that had gone. He had not seen it go, but there it + stood, the remnant, broken off half-way up the trunk. One did not know + what happened unless he saw it. The mere crashing of trees and wails of + human despair occupied no place in that mighty volume of sound. He chanced + to be looking in Captain Lynch's direction when it happened. He saw the + trunk of the tree, half-way up, splinter and part without noise. The head + of the tree, with three sailors of the Aorai and the old captain sailed + off over the lagoon. It did not fall to the ground, but drove through the + air like a piece of chaff. For a hundred yards he followed its flight, + when it struck the water. He strained his eyes, and was sure that he saw + Captain Lynch wave farewell. + </p> + <p> + Raoul did not wait for anything more. He touched the native and made signs + to descend to the ground. The man was willing, but his women were + paralyzed from terror, and he elected to remain with them. Raoul passed + his rope around the tree and slid down. A rush of salt water went over his + head. He held his breath and clung desperately to the rope. The water + subsided, and in the shelter of the trunk he breathed once more. He + fastened the rope more securely, and then was put under by another sea. + One of the women slid down and joined him, the native remaining by the + other woman, the two children, and the cat. + </p> + <p> + The supercargo had noticed how the groups clinging at the bases of the + other trees continually diminished. Now he saw the process work out + alongside him. It required all his strength to hold on, and the woman who + had joined him was growing weaker. Each time he emerged from a sea he was + surprised to find himself still there, and next, surprised to find the + woman still there. At last he emerged to find himself alone. He looked up. + The top of the tree had gone as well. At half its original height, a + splintered end vibrated. He was safe. The roots still held, while the tree + had been shorn of its windage. He began to climb up. He was so weak that + he went slowly, and sea after sea caught him before he was above them. + Then he tied himself to the trunk and stiffened his soul to face the night + and he knew not what. + </p> + <p> + He felt very lonely in the darkness. At times it seemed to him that it was + the end of the world and that he was the last one left alive. Still the + wind increased. Hour after hour it increased. By what he calculated was + eleven o'clock, the wind had become unbelievable. It was a horrible, + monstrous thing, a screaming fury, a wall that smote and passed on but + that continued to smite and pass on—a wall without end. It seemed to + him that he had become light and ethereal; that it was he that was in + motion; that he was being driven with inconceivable velocity through + unending solidness. The wind was no longer air in motion. It had become + substantial as water or quicksilver. He had a feeling that he could reach + into it and tear it out in chunks as one might do with the meat in the + carcass of a steer; that he could seize hold of the wind and hang on to it + as a man might hang on to the face of a cliff. + </p> + <p> + The wind strangled him. He could not face it and breathe, for it rushed in + through his mouth and nostrils, distending his lungs like bladders. At + such moments it seemed to him that his body was being packed and swollen + with solid earth. Only by pressing his lips to the trunk of the tree could + he breathe. Also, the ceaseless impact of the wind exhausted him. Body and + brain became wearied. He no longer observed, no longer thought, and was + but semiconscious. One idea constituted his consciousness: SO THIS WAS A + HURRICANE. That one idea persisted irregularly. It was like a feeble flame + that flickered occasionally. From a state of stupor he would return to it—SO + THIS WAS A HURRICANE. Then he would go off into another stupor. + </p> + <p> + The height of the hurricane endured from eleven at night till three in the + morning, and it was at eleven that the tree in which clung Mapuhi and his + women snapped off. Mapuhi rose to the surface of the lagoon, still + clutching his daughter Ngakura. Only a South Sea islander could have lived + in such a driving smother. The pandanus tree, to which he attached + himself, turned over and over in the froth and churn; and it was only by + holding on at times and waiting, and at other times shifting his grips + rapidly, that he was able to get his head and Ngakura's to the surface at + intervals sufficiently near together to keep the breath in them. But the + air was mostly water, what with flying spray and sheeted rain that poured + along at right angles to the perpendicular. + </p> + <p> + It was ten miles across the lagoon to the farther ring of sand. Here, + tossing tree trunks, timbers, wrecks of cutters, and wreckage of houses, + killed nine out of ten of the miserable beings who survived the passage of + the lagoon. Half-drowned, exhausted, they were hurled into this mad mortar + of the elements and battered into formless flesh. But Mapuhi was + fortunate. His chance was the one in ten; it fell to him by the freakage + of fate. He emerged upon the sand, bleeding from a score of wounds. + </p> + <p> + Ngakura's left arm was broken; the fingers of her right hand were crushed; + and cheek and forehead were laid open to the bone. He clutched a tree that + yet stood, and clung on, holding the girl and sobbing for air, while the + waters of the lagoon washed by knee-high and at times waist-high. + </p> + <p> + At three in the morning the backbone of the hurricane broke. By five no + more than a stiff breeze was blowing. And by six it was dead calm and the + sun was shining. The sea had gone down. On the yet restless edge of the + lagoon, Mapuhi saw the broken bodies of those that had failed in the + landing. Undoubtedly Tefara and Nauri were among them. He went along the + beach examining them, and came upon his wife, lying half in and half out + of the water. He sat down and wept, making harsh animal noises after the + manner of primitive grief. Then she stirred uneasily, and groaned. He + looked more closely. Not only was she alive, but she was uninjured. She + was merely sleeping. Hers also had been the one chance in ten. + </p> + <p> + Of the twelve hundred alive the night before but three hundred remained. + The Mormon missionary and a gendarme made the census. The lagoon was + cluttered with corpses. Not a house nor a hut was standing. In the whole + atoll not two stones remained one upon another. One in fifty of the + cocoanut palms still stood, and they were wrecks, while on not one of them + remained a single nut. + </p> + <p> + There was no fresh water. The shallow wells that caught the surface + seepage of the rain were filled with salt. Out of the lagoon a few soaked + bags of flour were recovered. The survivors cut the hearts out of the + fallen cocoanut trees and ate them. Here and there they crawled into tiny + hutches, made by hollowing out the sand and covering over with fragments + of metal roofing. The missionary made a crude still, but he could not + distill water for three hundred persons. By the end of the second day, + Raoul, taking a bath in the lagoon, discovered that his thirst was + somewhat relieved. He cried out the news, and thereupon three hundred men, + women, and children could have been seen, standing up to their necks in + the lagoon and trying to drink water in through their skins. Their dead + floated about them, or were stepped upon where they still lay upon the + bottom. On the third day the people buried their dead and sat down to wait + for the rescue steamers. + </p> + <p> + In the meantime, Nauri, torn from her family by the hurricane, had been + swept away on an adventure of her own. Clinging to a rough plank that + wounded and bruised her and that filled her body with splinters, she was + thrown clear over the atoll and carried away to sea. Here, under the + amazing buffets of mountains of water, she lost her plank. She was an old + woman nearly sixty; but she was Paumotan-born, and she had never been out + of sight of the sea in her life. Swimming in the darkness, strangling, + suffocating, fighting for air, she was struck a heavy blow on the shoulder + by a cocoanut. On the instant her plan was formed, and she seized the nut. + In the next hour she captured seven more. Tied together, they formed a + life-buoy that preserved her life while at the same time it threatened to + pound her to a jelly. She was a fat woman, and she bruised easily; but she + had had experience of hurricanes, and while she prayed to her shark god + for protection from sharks, she waited for the wind to break. But at three + o'clock she was in such a stupor that she did not know. Nor did she know + at six o'clock when the dead calm settled down. She was shocked into + consciousness when she was thrown upon the sand. She dug in with raw and + bleeding hands and feet and clawed against the backwash until she was + beyond the reach of the waves. + </p> + <p> + She knew where she was. This land could be no other than the tiny islet of + Takokota. It had no lagoon. No one lived upon it. + </p> + <p> + Hikueru was fifteen miles away. She could not see Hikueru, but she knew + that it lay to the south. The days went by, and she lived on the cocoanuts + that had kept her afloat. They supplied her with drinking water and with + food. But she did not drink all she wanted, nor eat all she wanted. Rescue + was problematical. She saw the smoke of the rescue steamers on the + horizon, but what steamer could be expected to come to lonely, uninhabited + Takokota? + </p> + <p> + From the first she was tormented by corpses. The sea persisted in flinging + them upon her bit of sand, and she persisted, until her strength failed, + in thrusting them back into the sea where the sharks tore at them and + devoured them. When her strength failed, the bodies festooned her beach + with ghastly horror, and she withdrew from them as far as she could, which + was not far. + </p> + <p> + By the tenth day her last cocoanut was gone, and she was shrivelling from + thirst. She dragged herself along the sand, looking for cocoanuts. It was + strange that so many bodies floated up, and no nuts. Surely, there were + more cocoanuts afloat than dead men! She gave up at last, and lay + exhausted. The end had come. Nothing remained but to wait for death. + </p> + <p> + Coming out of a stupor, she became slowly aware that she was gazing at a + patch of sandy-red hair on the head of a corpse. The sea flung the body + toward her, then drew it back. It turned over, and she saw that it had no + face. Yet there was something familiar about that patch of sandy-red hair. + An hour passed. She did not exert herself to make the identification. She + was waiting to die, and it mattered little to her what man that thing of + horror once might have been. + </p> + <p> + But at the end of the hour she sat up slowly and stared at the corpse. An + unusually large wave had thrown it beyond the reach of the lesser waves. + Yes, she was right; that patch of red hair could belong to but one man in + the Paumotus. It was Levy, the German Jew, the man who had bought the + pearl and carried it away on the Hira. Well, one thing was evident: The + Hira had been lost. The pearl buyer's god of fishermen and thieves had + gone back on him. + </p> + <p> + She crawled down to the dead man. His shirt had been torn away, and she + could see the leather money belt about his waist. She held her breath and + tugged at the buckles. They gave easier than she had expected, and she + crawled hurriedly away across the sand, dragging the belt after her. + Pocket after pocket she unbuckled in the belt and found empty. Where could + he have put it? In the last pocket of all she found it, the first and only + pearl he had bought on the voyage. She crawled a few feet farther, to + escape the pestilence of the belt, and examined the pearl. It was the one + Mapuhi had found and been robbed of by Toriki. She weighed it in her hand + and rolled it back and forth caressingly. But in it she saw no intrinsic + beauty. What she did see was the house Mapuhi and Tefara and she had + builded so carefully in their minds. Each time she looked at the pearl she + saw the house in all its details, including the octagon-drop-clock on the + wall. That was something to live for. + </p> + <p> + She tore a strip from her ahu and tied the pearl securely about her neck. + Then she went on along the beach, panting and groaning, but resolutely + seeking for cocoanuts. Quickly she found one, and, as she glanced around, + a second. She broke one, drinking its water, which was mildewy, and eating + the last particle of the meat. A little later she found a shattered + dugout. Its outrigger was gone, but she was hopeful, and, before the day + was out, she found the outrigger. Every find was an augury. The pearl was + a talisman. Late in the afternoon she saw a wooden box floating low in the + water. When she dragged it out on the beach its contents rattled, and + inside she found ten tins of salmon. She opened one by hammering it on the + canoe. When a leak was started, she drained the tin. After that she spent + several hours in extracting the salmon, hammering and squeezing it out a + morsel at a time. + </p> + <p> + Eight days longer she waited for rescue. In the meantime she fastened the + outrigger back on the canoe, using for lashings all the cocoanut fibre she + could find, and also what remained of her ahu. The canoe was badly + cracked, and she could not make it water-tight; but a calabash made from a + cocoanut she stored on board for a bailer. She was hard put for a paddle. + With a piece of tin she sawed off all her hair close to the scalp. Out of + the hair she braided a cord; and by means of the cord she lashed a + three-foot piece of broom handle to a board from the salmon case. + </p> + <p> + She gnawed wedges with her teeth and with them wedged the lashing. + </p> + <p> + On the eighteenth day, at midnight, she launched the canoe through the + surf and started back for Hikueru. She was an old woman. Hardship had + stripped her fat from her till scarcely more than bones and skin and a few + stringy muscles remained. The canoe was large and should have been paddled + by three strong men. + </p> + <p> + But she did it alone, with a make-shift paddle. Also, the canoe leaked + badly, and one-third of her time was devoted to bailing. By clear daylight + she looked vainly for Hikueru. Astern, Takokota had sunk beneath the sea + rim. The sun blazed down on her nakedness, compelling her body to + surrender its moisture. Two tins of salmon were left, and in the course of + the day she battered holes in them and drained the liquid. She had no time + to waste in extracting the meat. A current was setting to the westward, + she made westing whether she made southing or not. + </p> + <p> + In the early afternoon, standing upright in the canoe, she sighted + Hikueru. Its wealth of cocoanut palms was gone. Only here and there, at + wide intervals, could she see the ragged remnants of trees. The sight + cheered her. She was nearer than she had thought. The current was setting + her to the westward. She bore up against it and paddled on. The wedges in + the paddle lashing worked loose, and she lost much time, at frequent + intervals, in driving them tight. Then there was the bailing. One hour in + three she had to cease paddling in order to bail. And all the time she + drifted to the westward. + </p> + <p> + By sunset Hikueru bore southeast from her, three miles away. There was a + full moon, and by eight o'clock the land was due east and two miles away. + She struggled on for another hour, but the land was as far away as ever. + She was in the main grip of the current; the canoe was too large; the + paddle was too inadequate; and too much of her time and strength was + wasted in bailing. Besides, she was very weak and growing weaker. Despite + her efforts, the canoe was drifting off to the westward. + </p> + <p> + She breathed a prayer to her shark god, slipped over the side, and began + to swim. She was actually refreshed by the water, and quickly left the + canoe astern. At the end of an hour the land was perceptibly nearer. Then + came her fright. Right before her eyes, not twenty feet away, a large fin + cut the water. She swam steadily toward it, and slowly it glided away, + curving off toward the right and circling around her. She kept her eyes on + the fin and swam on. When the fin disappeared, she lay face downward in + the water and watched. When the fin reappeared she resumed her swimming. + The monster was lazy—she could see that. Without doubt he had been + well fed since the hurricane. Had he been very hungry, she knew he would + not have hesitated from making a dash for her. He was fifteen feet long, + and one bite, she knew, could cut her in half. + </p> + <p> + But she did not have any time to waste on him. Whether she swam or not, + the current drew away from the land just the same. A half hour went by, + and the shark began to grow bolder. Seeing no harm in her he drew closer, + in narrowing circles, cocking his eyes at her impudently as he slid past. + Sooner or later, she knew well enough, he would get up sufficient courage + to dash at her. She resolved to play first. It was a desperate act she + meditated. She was an old woman, alone in the sea and weak from starvation + and hardship; and yet she, in the face of this sea tiger, must anticipate + his dash by herself dashing at him. She swam on, waiting her chance. At + last he passed languidly by, barely eight feet away. She rushed at him + suddenly, feigning that she was attacking him. He gave a wild flirt of his + tail as he fled away, and his sandpaper hide, striking her, took off her + skin from elbow to shoulder. He swam rapidly, in a widening circle, and at + last disappeared. + </p> + <p> + In the hole in the sand, covered over by fragments of metal roofing, + Mapuhi and Tefara lay disputing. + </p> + <p> + “If you had done as I said,” charged Tefara, for the thousandth time, “and + hidden the pearl and told no one, you would have it now.” + </p> + <p> + “But Huru-Huru was with me when I opened the shell—have I not told + you so times and times and times without end?” + </p> + <p> + “And now we shall have no house. Raoul told me today that if you had not + sold the pearl to Toriki—” + </p> + <p> + “I did not sell it. Toriki robbed me.” + </p> + <p> + “—that if you had not sold the pearl, he would give you five + thousand French dollars, which is ten thousand Chili.” + </p> + <p> + “He has been talking to his mother,” Mapuhi explained. “She has an eye for + a pearl.” + </p> + <p> + “And now the pearl is lost,” Tefara complained. + </p> + <p> + “It paid my debt with Toriki. That is twelve hundred I have made, anyway.” + </p> + <p> + “Toriki is dead,” she cried. “They have heard no word of his schooner. She + was lost along with the Aorai and the Hira. Will Toriki pay you the three + hundred credit he promised? No, because Toriki is dead. And had you found + no pearl, would you today owe Toriki the twelve hundred? No, because + Toriki is dead, and you cannot pay dead men.” + </p> + <p> + “But Levy did not pay Toriki,” Mapuhi said. “He gave him a piece of paper + that was good for the money in Papeete; and now Levy is dead and cannot + pay; and Toriki is dead and the paper lost with him, and the pearl is lost + with Levy. You are right, Tefara. I have lost the pearl, and got nothing + for it. Now let us sleep.” + </p> + <p> + He held up his hand suddenly and listened. From without came a noise, as + of one who breathed heavily and with pain. A hand fumbled against the mat + that served for a door. + </p> + <p> + “Who is there?” Mapuhi cried. + </p> + <p> + “Nauri,” came the answer. “Can you tell me where is my son, Mapuhi?” + </p> + <p> + Tefara screamed and gripped her husband's arm. + </p> + <p> + “A ghost!” she chattered. “A ghost!” + </p> + <p> + Mapuhi's face was a ghastly yellow. He clung weakly to his wife. + </p> + <p> + “Good woman,” he said in faltering tones, striving to disguise his vice, + “I know your son well. He is living on the east side of the lagoon.” + </p> + <p> + From without came the sound of a sigh. Mapuhi began to feel elated. He had + fooled the ghost. + </p> + <p> + “But where do you come from, old woman?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “From the sea,” was the dejected answer. + </p> + <p> + “I knew it! I knew it!” screamed Tefara, rocking to and fro. + </p> + <p> + “Since when has Tefara bedded in a strange house?” came Nauri's voice + through the matting. + </p> + <p> + Mapuhi looked fear and reproach at his wife. It was her voice that had + betrayed them. + </p> + <p> + “And since when has Mapuhi, my son, denied his old mother?” the voice went + on. + </p> + <p> + “No, no, I have not—Mapuhi has not denied you,” he cried. “I am not + Mapuhi. He is on the east end of the lagoon, I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + Ngakura sat up in bed and began to cry. The matting started to shake. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing?” Mapuhi demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I am coming in,” said the voice of Nauri. + </p> + <p> + One end of the matting lifted. Tefara tried to dive under the blankets, + but Mapuhi held on to her. He had to hold on to something. Together, + struggling with each other, with shivering bodies and chattering teeth, + they gazed with protruding eyes at the lifting mat. They saw Nauri, + dripping with sea water, without her ahu, creep in. They rolled over + backward from her and fought for Ngakura's blanket with which to cover + their heads. + </p> + <p> + “You might give your old mother a drink of water,” the ghost said + plaintively. + </p> + <p> + “Give her a drink of water,” Tefara commanded in a shaking voice. + </p> + <p> + “Give her a drink of water,” Mapuhi passed on the command to Ngakura. + </p> + <p> + And together they kicked out Ngakura from under the blanket. A minute + later, peeping, Mapuhi saw the ghost drinking. When it reached out a + shaking hand and laid it on his, he felt the weight of it and was + convinced that it was no ghost. Then he emerged, dragging Tefara after + him, and in a few minutes all were listening to Nauri's tale. And when she + told of Levy, and dropped the pearl into Tefara's hand, even she was + reconciled to the reality of her mother-in-law. + </p> + <p> + “In the morning,” said Tefara, “you will sell the pearl to Raoul for five + thousand French.” + </p> + <p> + “The house?” objected Nauri. + </p> + <p> + “He will build the house,” Tefara answered. “He ways it will cost four + thousand French. Also will he give one thousand French in credit, which is + two thousand Chili.” + </p> + <p> + “And it will be six fathoms long?” Nauri queried. + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” answered Mapuhi, “six fathoms.” + </p> + <p> + “And in the middle room will be the octagon-drop-clock?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, and the round table as well.” + </p> + <p> + “Then give me something to eat, for I am hungry,” said Nauri, + complacently. “And after that we will sleep, for I am weary. And tomorrow + we will have more talk about the house before we sell the pearl. It will + be better if we take the thousand French in cash. Money is ever better + than credit in buying goods from the traders.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE WHALE TOOTH + </h2> + <p> + It was in the early days in Fiji, when John Starhurst arose in the mission + house at Rewa Village and announced his intention of carrying the gospel + throughout all Viti Levu. Now Viti Levu means the “Great Land,” it being + the largest island in a group composed of many large islands, to say + nothing of hundreds of small ones. Here and there on the coasts, living by + most precarious tenure, was a sprinkling of missionaries, traders, + bêche-de-mer fishers, and whaleship deserters. The smoke of the hot ovens + arose under their windows, and the bodies of the slain were dragged by + their doors on the way to the feasting. + </p> + <p> + The Lotu, or the Worship, was progressing slowly, and, often, in crablike + fashion. Chiefs, who announced themselves Christians and were welcomed + into the body of the chapel, had a distressing habit of backsliding in + order to partake of the flesh of some favorite enemy. Eat or be eaten had + been the law of the land; and eat or be eaten promised to remain the law + of the land for a long time to come. There were chiefs, such as Tanoa, + Tuiveikoso, and Tuikilakila, who had literally eaten hundreds of their + fellow men. But among these gluttons Ra Undreundre ranked highest. Ra + Undreundre lived at Takiraki. He kept a register of his gustatory + exploits. A row of stones outside his house marked the bodies he had + eaten. This row was two hundred and thirty paces long, and the stones in + it numbered eight hundred and seventy-two. Each stone represented a body. + The row of stones might have been longer, had not Ra Undreundre + unfortunately received a spear in the small of his back in a bush skirmish + on Somo Somo and been served up on the table of Naungavuli, whose mediocre + string of stones numbered only forty-eight. + </p> + <p> + The hard-worked, fever-stricken missionaries stuck doggedly to their task, + at times despairing, and looking forward for some special manifestation, + some outburst of Pentecostal fire that would bring a glorious harvest of + souls. But cannibal Fiji had remained obdurate. The frizzle-headed + man-eaters were loath to leave their fleshpots so long as the harvest of + human carcases was plentiful. Sometimes, when the harvest was too + plentiful, they imposed on the missionaries by letting the word slip out + that on such a day there would be a killing and a barbecue. Promptly the + missionaries would buy the lives of the victims with stick tobacco, + fathoms of calico, and quarts of trade beads. Natheless the chiefs drove a + handsome trade in thus disposing of their surplus live meat. Also, they + could always go out and catch more. + </p> + <p> + It was at this juncture that John Starhurst proclaimed that he would carry + the Gospel from coast to coast of the Great Land, and that he would begin + by penetrating the mountain fastnesses of the headwaters of the Rewa + River. His words were received with consternation. + </p> + <p> + The native teachers wept softly. His two fellow missionaries strove to + dissuade him. The King of Rewa warned him that the mountain dwellers would + surely kai-kai him—kai-kai meaning “to eat”—and that he, the + King of Rewa, having become Lotu, would be put to the necessity of going + to war with the mountain dwellers. That he could not conquer them he was + perfectly aware. That they might come down the river and sack Rewa Village + he was likewise perfectly aware. But what was he to do? If John Starhurst + persisted in going out and being eaten, there would be a war that would + cost hundreds of lives. + </p> + <p> + Later in the day a deputation of Rewa chiefs waited upon John Starhurst. + He heard them patiently, and argued patiently with them, though he abated + not a whit from his purpose. To his fellow missionaries he explained that + he was not bent upon martyrdom; that the call had come for him to carry + the Gospel into Viti Levu, and that he was merely obeying the Lord's wish. + </p> + <p> + To the traders who came and objected most strenuously of all, he said: + “Your objections are valueless. They consist merely of the damage that may + be done your businesses. You are interested in making money, but I am + interested in saving souls. The heathen of this dark land must be saved.” + </p> + <p> + John Starhurst was not a fanatic. He would have been the first man to deny + the imputation. He was eminently sane and practical. + </p> + <p> + He was sure that his mission would result in good, and he had private + visions of igniting the Pentecostal spark in the souls of the mountaineers + and of inaugurating a revival that would sweep down out of the mountains + and across the length and breadth of the Great Land from sea to sea and to + the isles in the midst of the sea. There were no wild lights in his mild + gray eyes, but only calm resolution and an unfaltering trust in the Higher + Power that was guiding him. + </p> + <p> + One man only he found who approved of his project, and that was Ra Vatu, + who secretly encouraged him and offered to lend him guides to the first + foothills. John Starhurst, in turn, was greatly pleased by Ra Vatu's + conduct. From an incorrigible heathen, with a heart as black as his + practices, Ra Vatu was beginning to emanate light. He even spoke of + becoming Lotu. True, three years before he had expressed a similar + intention, and would have entered the church had not John Starhurst + entered objection to his bringing his four wives along with him. Ra Vatu + had had economic and ethical objections to monogamy. Besides, the + missionary's hair-splitting objection had offended him; and, to prove that + he was a free agent and a man of honor, he had swung his huge war club + over Starhurst's head. Starhurst had escaped by rushing in under the club + and holding on to him until help arrived. But all that was now forgiven + and forgotten. Ra Vatu was coming into the church, not merely as a + converted heathen, but as a converted polygamist as well. He was only + waiting, he assured Starhurst, until his oldest wife, who was very sick, + should die. + </p> + <p> + John Starhurst journeyed up the sluggish Rewa in one of Ra Vatu's canoes. + This canoe was to carry him for two days, when, the head of navigation + reached, it would return. Far in the distance, lifted into the sky, could + be seen the great smoky mountains that marked the backbone of the Great + Land. All day John Starhurst gazed at them with eager yearning. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes he prayed silently. At other times he was joined in prayer by + Narau, a native teacher, who for seven years had been Lotu, ever since the + day he had been saved from the hot oven by Dr. James Ellery Brown at the + trifling expense of one hundred sticks of tobacco, two cotton blankets, + and a large bottle of painkiller. At the last moment, after twenty hours + of solitary supplication and prayer, Narau's ears had heard the call to go + forth with John Starhurst on the mission to the mountains. + </p> + <p> + “Master, I will surely go with thee,” he had announced. + </p> + <p> + John Starhurst had hailed him with sober delight. Truly, the Lord was with + him thus to spur on so broken-spirited a creature as Narau. + </p> + <p> + “I am indeed without spirit, the weakest of the Lord's vessels,” Narau + explained, the first day in the canoe. + </p> + <p> + “You should have faith, stronger faith,” the missionary chided him. + </p> + <p> + Another canoe journeyed up the Rewa that day. But it journeyed an hour + astern, and it took care not to be seen. This canoe was also the property + of Ra Vatu. In it was Erirola, Ra Vatu's first cousin and trusted + henchman; and in the small basket that never left his hand was a whale + tooth. It was a magnificent tooth, fully six inches long, beautifully + proportioned, the ivory turned yellow and purple with age. This tooth was + likewise the property of Ra Vatu; and in Fiji, when such a tooth goes + forth, things usually happen. For this is the virtue of the whale tooth: + Whoever accepts it cannot refuse the request that may accompany it or + follow it. The request may be anything from a human life to a tribal + alliance, and no Fijian is so dead to honor as to deny the request when + once the tooth has been accepted. Sometimes the request hangs fire, or the + fulfilment is delayed, with untoward consequences. + </p> + <p> + High up the Rewa, at the village of a chief, Mongondro by name, John + Starhurst rested at the end of the second day of the journey. In the + morning, attended by Narau, he expected to start on foot for the smoky + mountains that were now green and velvety with nearness. Mongondro was a + sweet-tempered, mild-mannered little old chief, short-sighted and + afflicted with elephantiasis, and no longer inclined toward the turbulence + of war. He received the missionary with warm hospitality, gave him food + from his own table, and even discussed religious matters with him. + Mongondro was of an inquiring bent of mind, and pleased John Starhurst + greatly by asking him to account for the existence and beginning of + things. When the missionary had finished his summary of the Creation + according to Genesis, he saw that Mongondro was deeply affected. The + little old chief smoked silently for some time. Then he took the pipe from + his mouth and shook his head sadly. + </p> + <p> + “It cannot be,” he said. “I, Mongondro, in my youth, was a good workman + with the adze. Yet three months did it take me to make a canoe—a + small canoe, a very small canoe. And you say that all this land and water + was made by one man—” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, was made by one God, the only true God,” the missionary interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “It is the same thing,” Mongondro went on, “that all the land and all the + water, the trees, the fish, and bush and mountains, the sun, the moon, and + the stars, were made in six days! No, no. I tell you that in my youth I + was an able man, yet did it require me three months for one small canoe. + It is a story to frighten children with; but no man can believe it.” + </p> + <p> + “I am a man,” the missionary said. + </p> + <p> + “True, you are a man. But it is not given to my dark understanding to know + what you believe.” + </p> + <p> + “I tell you, I do believe that everything was made in six days.” + </p> + <p> + “So you say, so you say,” the old cannibal murmured soothingly. + </p> + <p> + It was not until after John Starhurst and Narau had gone off to bed that + Erirola crept into the chief's house, and, after diplomatic speech, handed + the whale tooth to Mongondro. + </p> + <p> + The old chief held the tooth in his hands for a long time. It was a + beautiful tooth, and he yearned for it. Also, he divined the request that + must accompany it. “No, no; whale teeth were beautiful,” and his mouth + watered for it, but he passed it back to Erirola with many apologies. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + In the early dawn John Starhurst was afoot, striding along the bush trail + in his big leather boots, at his heels the faithful Narau, himself at the + heels of a naked guide lent him by Mongondro to show the way to the next + village, which was reached by midday. Here a new guide showed the way. A + mile in the rear plodded Erirola, the whale tooth in the basket slung on + his shoulder. For two days more he brought up the missionary's rear, + offering the tooth to the village chiefs. But village after village + refused the tooth. It followed so quickly the missionary's advent that + they divined the request that would be made, and would have none of it. + </p> + <p> + They were getting deep into the mountains, and Erirola took a secret + trail, cut in ahead of the missionary, and reached the stronghold of the + Buli of Gatoka. Now the Buli was unaware of John Starhurst's imminent + arrival. Also, the tooth was beautiful—an extraordinary specimen, + while the coloring of it was of the rarest order. The tooth was presented + publicly. The Buli of Gatoka, seated on his best mat, surrounded by his + chief men, three busy fly-brushers at his back, deigned to receive from + the hand of his herald the whale tooth presented by Ra Vatu and carried + into the mountains by his cousin, Erirola. A clapping of hands went up at + the acceptance of the present, the assembled headman, heralds, and + fly-brushers crying aloud in chorus: + </p> + <p> + “A! woi! woi! woi! A! woi! woi! woi! A tabua levu! woi! woi! A mudua, + mudua, mudua!' + </p> + <p> + “Soon will come a man, a white man,” Erirola began, after the proper + pause. “He is a missionary man, and he will come today. Ra Vatu is pleased + to desire his boots. He wishes to present them to his good friend, + Mongondro, and it is in his mind to send them with the feet along in them, + for Mongondro is an old man and his teeth are not good. Be sure, O Buli, + that the feet go along in the boots. As for the rest of him, it may stop + here.” + </p> + <p> + The delight in the whale tooth faded out of the Buli's eyes, and he + glanced about him dubiously. Yet had he already accepted the tooth. + </p> + <p> + “A little thing like a missionary does not matter,” Erirola prompted. + </p> + <p> + “No, a little thing like a missionary does not matter,” the Buli answered, + himself again. “Mongondro shall have the boots. Go, you young men, some + three or four of you, and meet the missionary on the trail. Be sure you + bring back the boots as well.” + </p> + <p> + “It is too late,” said Erirola. “Listen! He comes now.” + </p> + <p> + Breaking through the thicket of brush, John Starhurst, with Narau close on + his heels, strode upon the scene. The famous boots, having filled in + wading the stream, squirted fine jets of water at every step. Starhurst + looked about him with flashing eyes. Upborne by an unwavering trust, + untouched by doubt or fear, he exulted in all he saw. He knew that since + the beginning of time he was the first white man ever to tread the + mountain stronghold of Gatoka. + </p> + <p> + The grass houses clung to the steep mountain side or overhung the rushing + Rewa. On either side towered a mighty precipice. At the best, three hours + of sunlight penetrated that narrow gorge. No cocoanuts nor bananas were to + be seen, though dense, tropic vegetation overran everything, dripping in + airy festoons from the sheer lips of the precipices and running riot in + all the crannied ledges. At the far end of the gorge the Rewa leaped eight + hundred feet in a single span, while the atmosphere of the rock fortress + pulsed to the rhythmic thunder of the fall. + </p> + <p> + From the Buli's house, John Starhurst saw emerging the Buli and his + followers. + </p> + <p> + “I bring you good tidings,” was the missionary's greeting. + </p> + <p> + “Who has sent you?” the Buli rejoined quietly. + </p> + <p> + “God.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a new name in Viti Levu,” the Buli grinned. “Of what islands, + villages, or passes may he be chief?” + </p> + <p> + “He is the chief over all islands, all villages, all passes,” John + Starhurst answered solemnly. “He is the Lord over heaven and earth, and I + am come to bring His word to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Has he sent whale teeth?” was the insolent query. + </p> + <p> + “No, but more precious than whale teeth is the—” + </p> + <p> + “It is the custom, between chiefs, to send whale teeth,” the Buli + interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “Your chief is either a niggard, or you are a fool, to come empty-handed + into the mountains. Behold, a more generous than you is before you.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, he showed the whale tooth he had received from Erirola. + </p> + <p> + Narau groaned. + </p> + <p> + “It is the whale tooth of Ra Vatu,” he whispered to Starhurst. “I know it + well. Now are we undone.” + </p> + <p> + “A gracious thing,” the missionary answered, passing his hand through his + long beard and adjusting his glasses. “Ra Vatu has arranged that we should + be well received.” + </p> + <p> + But Narau groaned again, and backed away from the heels he had dogged so + faithfully. + </p> + <p> + “Ra Vatu is soon to become Lotu,” Starhurst explained, “and I have come + bringing the Lotu to you.” + </p> + <p> + “I want none of your Lotu,” said the Buli, proudly. “And it is in my mind + that you will be clubbed this day.” + </p> + <p> + The Buli nodded to one of his big mountaineers, who stepped forward, + swinging a club. Narau bolted into the nearest house, seeking to hide + among the woman and mats; but John Starhurst sprang in under the club and + threw his arms around his executioner's neck. From this point of vantage + he proceeded to argue. He was arguing for his life, and he knew it; but he + was neither excited nor afraid. + </p> + <p> + “It would be an evil thing for you to kill me,” he told the man. “I have + done you no wrong, nor have I done the Buli wrong.” + </p> + <p> + So well did he cling to the neck of the one man that they dared not strike + with their clubs. And he continued to cling and to dispute for his life + with those who clamored for his death. + </p> + <p> + “I am John Starhurst,” he went on calmly. “I have labored in Fiji for + three years, and I have done it for no profit. I am here among you for + good. Why should any man kill me? To kill me will not profit any man.” + </p> + <p> + The Buli stole a look at the whale tooth. He was well paid for the deed. + </p> + <p> + The missionary was surrounded by a mass of naked savages, all struggling + to get at him. The death song, which is the song of the oven, was raised, + and his expostulations could no longer be heard. But so cunningly did he + twine and wreathe his body about his captor's that the death blow could + not be struck. Erirola smiled, and the Buli grew angry. + </p> + <p> + “Away with you!” he cried. “A nice story to go back to the coast—a + dozen of you and one missionary, without weapons, weak as a woman, + overcoming all of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait, O Buli,” John Starhurst called out from the thick of the scuffle, + “and I will overcome even you. For my weapons are Truth and Right, and no + man can withstand them.” + </p> + <p> + “Come to me, then,” the Buli answered, “for my weapon is only a poor + miserable club, and, as you say, it cannot withstand you.” + </p> + <p> + The group separated from him, and John Starhurst stood alone, facing the + Buli, who was leaning on an enormous, knotted warclub. + </p> + <p> + “Come to me, missionary man, and overcome me,” the Buli challenged. + </p> + <p> + “Even so will I come to you and overcome you,” John Starhurst made answer, + first wiping his spectacles and settling them properly, then beginning his + advance. + </p> + <p> + The Buli raised the club and waited. + </p> + <p> + “In the first place, my death will profit you nothing,” began the + argument. + </p> + <p> + “I leave the answer to my club,” was the Buli's reply. + </p> + <p> + And to every point he made the same reply, at the same time watching the + missionary closely in order to forestall that cunning run-in under the + lifted club. Then, and for the first time, John Starhurst knew that his + death was at hand. He made no attempt to run in. Bareheaded, he stood in + the sun and prayed aloud—the mysterious figure of the inevitable + white man, who, with Bible, bullet, or rum bottle, has confronted the + amazed savage in his every stronghold. Even so stood John Starhurst in the + rock fortress of the Buli of Gatoka. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive them, for they know not what they do,” he prayed. “O Lord! Have + mercy upon Fiji. Have compassion for Fiji. O Jehovah, hear us for His + sake, Thy Son, whom Thou didst give that through Him all men might also + become Thy children. From Thee we came, and our mind is that to Thee we + may return. The land is dark, O Lord, the land is dark. But Thou art + mighty to save. Reach out Thy hand, O Lord, and save Fiji, poor cannibal + Fiji.” + </p> + <p> + The Buli grew impatient. + </p> + <p> + “Now will I answer thee,” he muttered, at the same time swinging his club + with both hands. + </p> + <p> + Narau, hiding among the women and the mats, heard the impact of the blow + and shuddered. Then the death song arose, and he knew his beloved + missionary's body was being dragged to the oven as he heard the words: + </p> + <p> + “Drag me gently. Drag me gently.” + </p> + <p> + “For I am the champion of my land.” + </p> + <p> + “Give thanks! Give thanks! Give thanks!” + </p> + <p> + Next, a single voice arose out of the din, asking: + </p> + <p> + “Where is the brave man?” + </p> + <p> + A hundred voices bellowed the answer: + </p> + <p> + “Gone to be dragged into the oven and cooked.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is the coward?” the single voice demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Gone to report!” the hundred voices bellowed back. “Gone to report! Gone + to report!” + </p> + <p> + Narau groaned in anguish of spirit. The words of the old song were true. + He was the coward, and nothing remained to him but to go and report. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MAUKI + </h2> + <p> + He weighed one hundred and ten pounds. His hair was kinky and negroid, and + he was black. He was peculiarly black. He was neither blue-black nor + purple-black, but plum-black. His name was Mauki, and he was the son of a + chief. He had three tambos. Tambo is Melanesian for taboo, and is first + cousin to that Polynesian word. Mauki's three tambos were as follows: + First, he must never shake hands with a woman, nor have a woman's hand + touch him or any of his personal belongings; secondly, he must never eat + clams nor any food from a fire in which clams had been cooked; thirdly, he + must never touch a crocodile, nor travel in a canoe that carried any part + of a crocodile even if as large as a tooth. + </p> + <p> + Of a different black were his teeth, which were deep black, or, perhaps + better, LAMP-black. They had been made so in a single night, by his + mother, who had compressed about them a powdered mineral which was dug + from the landslide back of Port Adams. Port Adams is a salt-water village + on Malaita, and Malaita is the most savage island in the Solomons—so + savage that no traders or planters have yet gained a foothold on it; + while, from the time of the earliest bêche-de-mer fishers and sandalwood + traders down to the latest labor recruiters equipped with automatic rifles + and gasolene engines, scores of white adventurers have been passed out by + tomahawks and soft-nosed Snider bullets. So Malaita remains today, in the + twentieth century, the stamping ground of the labor recruiters, who farm + its coasts for laborers who engage and contract themselves to toil on the + plantations of the neighboring and more civilized islands for a wage of + thirty dollars a year. The natives of those neighboring and more civilized + islands have themselves become too civilized to work on plantations. + </p> + <p> + Mauki's ears were pierced, not in one place, nor two places, but in a + couple of dozen places. In one of the smaller holes he carried a clay + pipe. The larger holes were too large for such use. The bowl of the pipe + would have fallen through. In fact, in the largest hole in each ear he + habitually wore round wooden plugs that were an even four inches in + diameter. Roughly speaking, the circumference of said holes was twelve and + one-half inches. Mauki was catholic in his tastes. In the various smaller + holes he carried such things as empty rifle cartridges, horseshoe nails, + copper screws, pieces of string, braids of sennit, strips of green leaf, + and, in the cool of the day, scarlet hibiscus flowers. From which it will + be seen that pockets were not necessary to his well-being. Besides, + pockets were impossible, for his only wearing apparel consisted of a piece + of calico several inches wide. A pocket knife he wore in his hair, the + blade snapped down on a kinky lock. His most prized possession was the + handle of a china cup, which he suspended from a ring of turtle-shell, + which, in turn, was passed through the partition-cartilage of his nose. + </p> + <p> + But in spite of embellishments, Mauki had a nice face. It was really a + pretty face, viewed by any standard, and for a Melanesian it was a + remarkably good-looking face. Its one fault was its lack of strength. It + was softly effeminate, almost girlish. The features were small, regular, + and delicate. The chin was weak, and the mouth was weak. There was no + strength nor character in the jaws, forehead, and nose. In the eyes only + could be caught any hint of the unknown quantities that were so large a + part of his make-up and that other persons could not understand. These + unknown quantities were pluck, pertinacity, fearlessness, imagination, and + cunning; and when they found expression in some consistent and striking + action, those about him were astounded. + </p> + <p> + Mauki's father was chief over the village at Port Adams, and thus, by + birth a salt-water man, Mauki was half amphibian. He knew the way of the + fishes and oysters, and the reef was an open book to him. Canoes, also, he + knew. He learned to swim when he was a year old. At seven years he could + hold his breath a full minute and swim straight down to bottom through + thirty feet of water. And at seven years he was stolen by the bushmen, who + cannot even swim and who are afraid of salt water. Thereafter Mauki saw + the sea only from a distance, through rifts in the jungle and from open + spaces on the high mountain sides. He became the slave of old Fanfoa, head + chief over a score of scattered bush-villages on the range-lips of + Malaita, the smoke of which, on calm mornings, is about the only evidence + the seafaring white men have of the teeming interior population. For the + whites do not penetrate Malaita. They tried it once, in the days when the + search was on for gold, but they always left their heads behind to grin + from the smoky rafters of the bushmen's huts. + </p> + <p> + When Mauki was a young man of seventeen, Fanfoa got out of tobacco. He got + dreadfully out of tobacco. It was hard times in all his villages. He had + been guilty of a mistake. Suo was a harbor so small that a large schooner + could not swing at anchor in it. It was surrounded by mangroves that + overhung the deep water. It was a trap, and into the trap sailed two white + men in a small ketch. They were after recruits, and they possessed much + tobacco and trade goods, to say nothing of three rifles and plenty of + ammunition. Now there were no salt-water men living at Suo, and it was + there that the bushmen could come down to the sea. The ketch did a + splendid traffic. It signed on twenty recruits the first day. Even old + Fanfoa signed on. And that same day the score of new recruits chopped off + the two white men's head, killed the boat's crew, and burned the ketch. + Thereafter, and for three months, there was tobacco and trade goods in + plenty and to spare in all the bush villages. Then came the man-of-war + that threw shells for miles into the hills, frightening the people out of + their villages and into the deeper bush. Next the man-of-war sent landing + parties ashore. The villages were all burned, along with the tobacco and + trade stuff. + </p> + <p> + The cocoanuts and bananas were chopped down, the taro gardens uprooted, + and the pigs and chickens killed. + </p> + <p> + It taught Fanfoa a lesson, but in the meantime he was out of tobacco. + Also, his young men were too frightened to sign on with the recruiting + vessels. That was why Fanfoa ordered his slave, Mauki, to be carried down + and signed on for half a case of tobacco advance, along with knives, axes, + calico, and beads, which he would pay for with his toil on the + plantations. Mauki was sorely frightened when they brought him on board + the schooner. He was a lamb led to the slaughter. White men were ferocious + creatures. They had to be, or else they would not make a practice of + venturing along the Malaita coast and into all harbors, two on a schooner, + when each schooner carried from fifteen to twenty blacks as boat's crew, + and often as high as sixty or seventy black recruits. In addition to this, + there was always the danger of the shore population, the sudden attack and + the cutting off of the schooner and all hands. Truly, white men must be + terrible. Besides, they were possessed of such devil-devils—rifles + that shot very rapidly many times, things of iron and brass that made the + schooners go when there was no wind, and boxes that talked and laughed + just as men talked and laughed. + </p> + <p> + Ay, and he had heard of one white man whose particular devil-devil was so + powerful that he could take out all his teeth and put them back at will. + </p> + <p> + Down into the cabin they took Mauki. On deck, the one white man kept guard + with two revolvers in his belt. In the cabin the other white man sat with + a book before him, in which he inscribed strange marks and lines. He + looked at Mauki as though he had been a pig or a fowl, glanced under the + hollows of his arms, and wrote in the book. Then he held out the writing + stick and Mauki just barely touched it with his hand, in so doing pledging + himself to toil for three years on the plantations of the Moongleam Soap + Company. It was not explained to him that the will of the ferocious white + men would be used to enforce the pledge, and that, behind all, for the + same use, was all the power and all the warships of Great Britain. + </p> + <p> + Other blacks there were on board, from unheard-of far places, and when the + white man spoke to them, they tore the long feather from Mauki's hair, cut + that same hair short, and wrapped about his waist a lava-lava of bright + yellow calico. + </p> + <p> + After many days on the schooner, and after beholding more land and islands + than he had ever dreamed of, he was landed on New Georgia, and put to work + in the field clearing jungle and cutting cane grass. For the first time he + knew what work was. Even as a slave to Fanfoa he had not worked like this. + And he did not like work. It was up at dawn and in at dark, on two meals a + day. And the food was tiresome. For weeks at a time they were given + nothing but sweet potatoes to eat, and for weeks at a time it would be + nothing but rice. He cut out the cocoanut from the shells day after day; + and for long days and weeks he fed the fires that smoked the copra, till + his eyes got sore and he was set to felling trees. He was a good axe-man, + and later he was put in the bridge-building gang. Once, he was punished by + being put in the road-building gang. At times he served as boat's crew in + the whale boats, when they brought in copra from distant beaches or when + the white men went out to dynamite fish. + </p> + <p> + Among other things he learned beche-de-mer English, with which he could + talk with all white men, and with all recruits who otherwise would have + talked in a thousand different dialects. Also, he learned certain things + about the white men, principally that they kept their word. If they told a + boy he was going to receive a stick of tobacco, he got it. If they told a + boy they would knock seven bells out of him if he did a certain thing, + when he did that thing, seven bells invariably were knocked out of him. + Mauki did not know what seven bells were, but they occurred in + beche-de-mer, and he imagined them to be the blood and teeth that + sometimes accompanied the process of knocking out seven bells. One other + thing he learned: no boy was struck or punished unless he did wrong. Even + when the white men were drunk, as they were frequently, they never struck + unless a rule had been broken. + </p> + <p> + Mauki did not like the plantation. He hated work, and he was the son of a + chief. Furthermore, it was ten years since he had been stolen from Port + Adams by Fanfoa, and he was homesick. He was even homesick for the slavery + under Fanfoa. So he ran away. He struck back into the bush, with the idea + of working southward to the beach and stealing a canoe in which to go home + to Port Adams. + </p> + <p> + But the fever got him, and he was captured and brought back more dead than + alive. + </p> + <p> + A second time he ran away, in the company of two Malaita boys. They got + down the coast twenty miles, and were hidden in the hut of a Malaita + freeman, who dwelt in that village. But in the dead of night two white men + came, who were not afraid of all the village people and who knocked seven + bells out of the three runaways, tied them like pigs, and tossed them into + the whale boat. But the man in whose house they had hidden—seven + times seven bells must have been knocked out of him from the way the hair, + skin, and teeth flew, and he was discouraged for the rest of his natural + life from harboring runaway laborers. + </p> + <p> + For a year Mauki toiled on. Then he was made a house-boy, and had good + food and easy times, with light work in keeping the house clean and + serving the white men with whiskey and beer at all hours of the day and + most hours of the night. He liked it, but he liked Port Adams more. He had + two years longer to serve, but two years were too long for him in the + throes of homesickness. He had grown wiser with his year of service, and, + being now a house-boy, he had opportunity. He had the cleaning of the + rifles, and he knew where the key to the store room was hung. He planned + to escape, and one night ten Malaita boys and one boy from San Cristoval + sneaked from the barracks and dragged one of the whale boats down to the + beach. It was Mauki who supplied the key that opened the padlock on the + boat, and it was Mauki who equipped the boat with a dozen Winchesters, an + immense amount of ammunition, a case of dynamite with detonators and fuse, + and ten cases of tobacco. + </p> + <p> + The northwest monsoon was blowing, and they fled south in the night time, + hiding by day on detached and uninhabited islets, or dragging their whale + boat into the bush on the large islands. Thus they gained Guadalcanar, + skirted halfway along it, and crossed the Indispensable Straits to Florida + Island. It was here that they killed the San Cristoval boy, saving his + head and cooking and eating the rest of him. The Malaita coast was only + twenty miles away, but the last night a strong current and baffling winds + prevented them from gaining across. Daylight found them still several + miles from their goal. But daylight brought a cutter, in which were two + white men, who were not afraid of eleven Malaita men armed with twelve + rifles. Mauki and his companions were carried back to Tulagi, where lived + the great white master of all the white men. And the great white master + held a court, after which, one by one, the runaways were tied up and given + twenty lashes each, and sentenced to a fine of fifteen dollars. They were + sent back to New Georgia, where the white men knocked seven bells out of + them all around and put them to work. But Mauki was no longer house-boy. + He was put in the road-making gang. The fine of fifteen dollars had been + paid by the white men from whom he had run away, and he was told that he + would have to work it out, which meant six months' additional toil. + Further, his share of the stolen tobacco earned him another year of toil. + </p> + <p> + Port Adams was now three years and a half away, so he stole a canoe one + night, hid on the islets in Manning Straits, passed through the Straits, + and began working along the eastern coast of Ysabel, only to be captured, + two-thirds of the way along, by the white men on Meringe Lagoon. After a + week, he escaped from them and took to the bush. There were no bush + natives on Ysabel, only salt-water men, who were all Christians. The white + men put up a reward of five-hundred sticks of tobacco, and every time + Mauki ventured down to the sea to steal a canoe he was chased by the + salt-water men. Four months of this passed, when, the reward having been + raised to a thousand sticks, he was caught and sent back to New Georgia + and the road-building gang. Now a thousand sticks are worth fifty dollars, + and Mauki had to pay the reward himself, which required a year and eight + months' labor. So Port Adams was now five years away. + </p> + <p> + His homesickness was greater than ever, and it did not appeal to him to + settle down and be good, work out his four years, and go home. The next + time, he was caught in the very act of running away. His case was brought + before Mr. Haveby, the island manager of the Moongleam Soap Company, who + adjudged him an incorrigible. The Company had plantations on the Santa + Cruz Islands, hundreds of miles across the sea, and there it sent its + Solomon Islands' incorrigibles. And there Mauki was sent, though he never + arrived. The schooner stopped at Santa Anna, and in the night Mauki swam + ashore, where he stole two rifles and a case of tobacco from the trader + and got away in a canoe to Cristoval. Malaita was now to the north, fifty + or sixty miles away. But when he attempted the passage, he was caught by a + light gale and driven back to Santa Anna, where the trader clapped him in + irons and held him against the return of the schooner from Santa Cruz. The + two rifles the trader recovered, but the case of tobacco was charged up to + Mauki at the rate of another year. The sum of years he now owed the + Company was six. + </p> + <p> + On the way back to New Georgia, the schooner dropped anchor in Marau + Sound, which lies at the southeastern extremity of Guadalcanar. Mauki swam + ashore with handcuffs on his wrists and got away to the bush. The schooner + went on, but the Moongleam trader ashore offered a thousand sticks, and to + him Mauki was brought by the bushmen with a year and eight months tacked + on to his account. Again, and before the schooner called in, he got away, + this time in a whale boat accompanied by a case of the trader's tobacco. + But a northwest gale wrecked him upon Ugi, where the Christian natives + stole his tobacco and turned him over to the Moongleam trader who resided + there. The tobacco the natives stole meant another year for him, and the + tale was now eight years and a half. + </p> + <p> + “We'll send him to Lord Howe,” said Mr. Haveby. “Bunster is there, and + we'll let them settle it between them. It will be a case, I imagine, of + Mauki getting Bunster, or Bunster getting Mauki, and good riddance in + either event.” + </p> + <p> + If one leaves Meringe Lagoon, on Ysabel, and steers a course due north, + magnetic, at the end of one hundred and fifty miles he will lift the + pounded coral beaches of Lord Howe above the sea. Lord Howe is a ring of + land some one hundred and fifty miles in circumference, several hundred + yards wide at its widest, and towering in places to a height of ten feet + above sea level. Inside this ring of sand is a mighty lagoon studded with + coral patches. Lord Howe belongs to the Solomons neither geographically + nor ethnologically. It is an atoll, while the Solomons are high islands; + and its people and language are Polynesian, while the inhabitants of the + Solomons are Melanesian. + </p> + <p> + Lord Howe has been populated by the westward Polynesian drift which + continues to this day, big outrigger canoes being washed upon its beaches + by the southeast trade. That there has been a slight Melanesian drift in + the period of the northwest monsoon, is also evident. + </p> + <p> + Nobody ever comes to Lord Howe, or Ontong-Java as it is sometimes called. + Thomas Cook & Son do not sell tickets to it, and tourists do not dream + of its existence. Not even a white missionary has landed on its shore. Its + five thousand natives are as peaceable as they are primitive. Yet they + were not always peaceable. The Sailing Directions speak of them as hostile + and treacherous. But the men who compile the Sailing Directions have never + heard of the change that was worked in the hearts of the inhabitants, who, + not many years ago, cut off a big bark and killed all hands with the + exception of the second mate. The survivor carried the news to his + brothers. The captains of three trading schooners returned with him to + Lord Howe. They sailed their vessels right into the lagoon and proceeded + to preach the white man's gospel that only white men shall kill white men + and that the lesser breeds must keep hands off. The schooners sailed up + and down the lagoon, harrying and destroying. There was no escape from the + narrow sand-circle, no bush to which to flee. The men were shot down at + sight, and there was no avoiding being sighted. The villages were burned, + the canoes smashed, the chickens and pigs killed, and the precious + cocoanut trees chopped down. For a month this continued, when the schooner + sailed away; but the fear of the white man had been seared into the souls + of the islanders and never again were they rash enough to harm one. + </p> + <p> + Max Bunster was the one white man on Lord Howe, trading in the pay of the + ubiquitous Moongleam Soap Company. And the Company billeted him on Lord + Howe, because, next to getting rid of him, it was the most out-of-the-way + place to be found. That the Company did not get rid of him was due to the + difficulty of finding another man to take his place. He was a strapping + big German, with something wrong in his brain. Semi-madness would be a + charitable statement of his condition. He was a bully and a coward, and a + thrice-bigger savage than any savage on the island. + </p> + <p> + Being a coward, his brutality was of the cowardly order. When he first + went into the Company's employ, he was stationed on Savo. When a + consumptive colonial was sent to take his place, he beat him up with his + fists and sent him off a wreck in the schooner that brought him. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Haveby next selected a young Yorkshire giant to relieve Bunster. The + Yorkshire man had a reputation as a bruiser and preferred fighting to + eating. But Bunster wouldn't fight. He was a regular little lamb—for + ten days, at the end of which time the Yorkshire man was prostrated by a + combined attack of dysentery and fever. Then Bunster went for him, among + other things getting him down and jumping on him a score or so of times. + Afraid of what would happen when his victim recovered. Bunster fled away + in a cutter to Guvutu, where he signalized himself by beating up a young + Englishman already crippled by a Boer bullet through both hips. + </p> + <p> + Then it was that Mr. Haveby sent Bunster to Lord Howe, the falling-off + place. He celebrated his landing by mopping up half a case of gin and by + thrashing the elderly and wheezy mate of the schooner which had brought + him. When the schooner departed, he called the kanakas down to the beach + and challenged them to throw him in a wrestling bout, promising a case of + tobacco to the one who succeeded. Three kanakas he threw, but was promptly + thrown by a fourth, who, instead of receiving the tobacco, got a bullet + through his lungs. + </p> + <p> + And so began Bunster's reign on Lord Howe. Three thousand people lived in + the principal village; but it was deserted, even in broad day, when he + passed through. Men, women, and children fled before him. Even the dogs + and pigs got out of the way, while the king was not above hiding under a + mat. The two prime ministers lived in terror of Bunster, who never + discussed any moot subject, but struck out with his fists instead. + </p> + <p> + And to Lord Howe came Mauki, to toil for Bunster for eight long years and + a half. There was no escaping from Lord Howe. For better or worse, Bunster + and he were tied together. Bunster weighed two hundred pounds. Mauki + weighed one hundred and ten. Bunster was a degenerate brute. But Mauki was + a primitive savage. While both had wills and ways of their own. + </p> + <p> + Mauki had no idea of the sort of master he was to work for. He had had no + warnings, and he had concluded as a matter of course that Bunster would be + like other white men, a drinker of much whiskey, a ruler and a lawgiver + who always kept his word and who never struck a boy undeserved. Bunster + had the advantage. He knew all about Mauki, and gloated over the coming + into possession of him. The last cook was suffering from a broken arm and + a dislocated shoulder, so Bunster made Mauki cook and general house-boy. + </p> + <p> + And Mauki soon learned that there were white men and white men. On the + very day the schooner departed he was ordered to buy a chicken from + Samisee, the native Tongan missionary. But Samisee had sailed across the + lagoon and would not be back for three days. Mauki returned with the + information. He climbed the steep stairway (the house stood on piles + twelve feet above the sand), and entered the living room to report. The + trader demanded the chicken. Mauki opened his mouth to explain the + missionary's absence. But Bunster did not care for explanations. He struck + out with his fist. The blow caught Mauki on the mouth and lifted him into + the air. Clear through the doorway he flew, across the narrow veranda, + breaking the top railing, and down to the ground. + </p> + <p> + His lips were a contused, shapeless mass, and his mouth was full of blood + and broken teeth. + </p> + <p> + “That'll teach you that back talk don't go with me,” the trader shouted, + purple with rage, peering down at him over the broken railing. + </p> + <p> + Mauki had never met a white man like this, and he resolved to walk small + and never offend. He saw the boat boys knocked about, and one of them put + in irons for three days with nothing to eat for the crime of breaking a + rowlock while pulling. Then, too, he heard the gossip of the village and + learned why Bunster had taken a third wife—by force, as was well + known. The first and second wives lay in the graveyard, under the white + coral sand, with slabs of coral rock at head and feet. They had died, it + was said, from beatings he had given them. The third wife was certainly + ill-used, as Mauki could see for himself. + </p> + <p> + But there was no way by which to avoid offending the white man who seemed + offended with life. When Mauki kept silent, he was struck and called a + sullen brute. When he spoke, he was struck for giving back talk. When he + was grave, Bunster accused him of plotting and gave him a thrashing in + advance; and when he strove to be cheerful and to smile, he was charged + with sneering at his lord and master and given a taste of stick. Bunster + was a devil. + </p> + <p> + The village would have done for him, had it not remembered the lesson of + the three schooners. It might have done for him anyway, if there had been + a bush to which to flee. As it was, the murder of the white men, of any + white man, would bring a man-of-war that would kill the offenders and chop + down the precious cocoanut trees. Then there were the boat boys, with + minds fully made up to drown him by accident at the first opportunity to + capsize the cutter. Only Bunster saw to it that the boat did not capsize. + </p> + <p> + Mauki was of a different breed, and escape being impossible while Bunster + lived, he was resolved to get the white man. The trouble was that he could + never find a chance. Bunster was always on guard. Day and night his + revolvers were ready to hand. He permitted nobody to pass behind his back, + as Mauki learned after having been knocked down several times. Bunster + knew that he had more to fear from the good-natured, even sweet-faced, + Malaita boy than from the entire population of Lord Howe; and it gave + added zest to the programme of torment he was carrying out. And Mauki + walked small, accepted his punishments, and waited. + </p> + <p> + All other white men had respected his tambos, but not so Bunster. + </p> + <p> + Mauki's weekly allowance of tobacco was two sticks. Bunster passed them to + his woman and ordered Mauki to receive them from her hand. But this could + not be, and Mauki went without his tobacco. In the same way he was made to + miss many a meal, and to go hungry many a day. He was ordered to make + chowder out of the big clams that grew in the lagoon. This he could not + do, for clams were tambo. Six times in succession he refused to touch the + clams, and six times he was knocked senseless. Bunster knew that the boy + would die first, but called his refusal mutiny, and would have killed him + had there been another cook to take his place. + </p> + <p> + One of the trader's favorite tricks was to catch Mauki's kinky locks and + bat his head against the wall. Another trick was to catch Mauki unawares + and thrust the live end of a cigar against his flesh. This Bunster called + vaccination, and Mauki was vaccinated a number of times a week. Once, in a + rage, Bunster ripped the cup handle from Mauki's nose, tearing the hole + clear out of the cartilage. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what a mug!” was his comment, when he surveyed the damage he had + wrought. + </p> + <p> + The skin of a shark is like sandpaper, but the skin of a ray fish is like + a rasp. In the South Seas the natives use it as a wood file in smoothing + down canoes and paddles. Bunster had a mitten made of ray fish skin. The + first time he tried it on Mauki, with one sweep of the hand it fetched the + skin off his back from neck to armpit. Bunster was delighted. He gave his + wife a taste of the mitten, and tried it out thoroughly on the boat boys. + The prime ministers came in for a stroke each, and they had to grin and + take it for a joke. + </p> + <p> + “Laugh, damn you, laugh!” was the cue he gave. + </p> + <p> + Mauki came in for the largest share of the mitten. Never a day passed + without a caress from it. There were times when the loss of so much + cuticle kept him awake at night, and often the half-healed surface was + raked raw afresh by the facetious Mr. Bunster. Mauki continued his patient + wait, secure in the knowledge that sooner or later his time would come. + And he knew just what he was going to do, down to the smallest detail, + when the time did come. + </p> + <p> + One morning Bunster got up in a mood for knocking seven bells out of the + universe. He began on Mauki, and wound up on Mauki, in the interval + knocking down his wife and hammering all the boat boys. At breakfast he + called the coffee slops and threw the scalding contents of the cup into + Mauki's face. By ten o'clock Bunster was shivering with ague, and half an + hour later he was burning with fever. It was no ordinary attack. It + quickly became pernicious, and developed into black-water fever. The days + passed, and he grew weaker and weaker, never leaving his bed. Mauki waited + and watched, the while his skin grew intact once more. He ordered the boys + to beach the cutter, scrub her bottom, and give her a general overhauling. + They thought the order emanated from Bunster, and they obeyed. But Bunster + at the time was lying unconscious and giving no orders. This was Mauki's + chance, but still he waited. + </p> + <p> + When the worst was past, and Bunster lay convalescent and conscious, but + weak as a baby, Mauki packed his few trinkets, including the china cup + handle, into his trade box. Then he went over to the village and + interviewed the king and his two prime ministers. + </p> + <p> + “This fella Bunster, him good fella you like too much?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + They explained in one voice that they liked the trader not at all. The + ministers poured forth a recital of all the indignities and wrongs that + had been heaped upon them. The king broke down and wept. Mauki interrupted + rudely. + </p> + <p> + “You savve me—me big fella marster my country. You no like 'm this + fella white marster. Me no like 'm. Plenty good you put hundred cocoanut, + two hundred cocoanut, three hundred cocoanut along cutter. Him finish, you + go sleep 'm good fella. Altogether kanaka sleep m good fella. Bime by big + fella noise along house, you no savve hear 'm that fella noise. You + altogether sleep strong fella too much.” + </p> + <p> + In like manner Mauki interviewed the boat boys. Then he ordered Bunster's + wife to return to her family house. Had she refused, he would have been in + a quandary, for his tambo would not have permitted him to lay hands on + her. + </p> + <p> + The house deserted, he entered the sleeping room, where the trader lay in + a doze. Mauki first removed the revolvers, then placed the ray fish mitten + on his hand. Bunster's first warning was a stroke of the mitten that + removed the skin the full length of his nose. + </p> + <p> + “Good fella, eh?” Mauki grinned, between two strokes, one of which swept + the forehead bare and the other of which cleaned off one side of his face. + “Laugh, damn you, laugh.” + </p> + <p> + Mauki did his work throughly, and the kanakas, hiding in their houses, + heard the “big fella noise” that Bunster made and continued to make for an + hour or more. + </p> + <p> + When Mauki was done, he carried the boat compass and all the rifles and + ammunition down to the cutter, which he proceeded to ballast with cases of + tobacco. It was while engaged in this that a hideous, skinless thing came + out of the house and ran screaming down the beach till it fell in the sand + and mowed and gibbered under the scorching sun. Mauki looked toward it and + hesitated. Then he went over and removed the head, which he wrapped in a + mat and stowed in the stern locker of the cutter. + </p> + <p> + So soundly did the kanakas sleep through that long hot day that they did + not see the cutter run out through the passage and head south, + close-hauled on the southeast trade. Nor was the cutter ever sighted on + that long tack to the shores of Ysabel, and during the tedious head-beat + from there to Malaita. He landed at Port Adams with a wealth of rifles and + tobacco such as no one man had ever possessed before. But he did not stop + there. He had taken a white man's head, and only the bush could shelter + him. So back he went to the bush villages, where he shot old Fanfoa and + half a dozen of the chief men, and made himself the chief over all the + villages. When his father died, Mauki's brother ruled in Port Adams, and + joined together, salt-water men and bushmen, the resulting combination was + the strongest of the ten score fighting tribes of Malaita. + </p> + <p> + More than his fear of the British government was Mauki's fear of the + all-powerful Moongleam Soap Company; and one day a message came up to him + in the bush, reminding him that he owed the Company eight and one-half + years of labor. He sent back a favorable answer, and then appeared the + inevitable white man, the captain of the schooner, the only white man + during Mauki's reign, who ventured the bush and came out alive. This man + not only came out, but he brought with him seven hundred and fifty dollars + in gold sovereigns—the money price of eight years and a half of + labor plus the cost price of certain rifles and cases of tobacco. + </p> + <p> + Mauki no longer weighs one hundred and ten pounds. His stomach is three + times its former girth, and he has four wives. He has many other things—rifles + and revolvers, the handle of a china cup, and an excellent collection of + bushmen's heads. But more precious than the entire collection is another + head, perfectly dried and cured, with sandy hair and a yellowish beard, + which is kept wrapped in the finest of fibre lava-lavas. When Mauki goes + to war with villages beyond his realm, he invariably gets out this head, + and alone in his grass palace, contemplates it long and solemnly. At such + times the hush of death falls on the village, and not even a pickaninny + dares make a noise. The head is esteemed the most powerful devil-devil on + Malaita, and to the possession of it is ascribed all of Mauki's greatness. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + “YAH! YAH! YAH!” + </h2> + <p> + He was a whiskey-guzzling Scotchman, and he downed his whiskey neat, + beginning with his first tot punctually at six in the morning, and + thereafter repeating it at regular intervals throughout the day till + bedtime, which was usually midnight. He slept but five hours out of the + twenty-four, and for the remaining nineteen hours he was quietly and + decently drunk. During the eight weeks I spent with him on Oolong Atoll, I + never saw him draw a sober breath. In fact, his sleep was so short that he + never had time to sober up. It was the most beautiful and orderly + perennial drunk I have ever observed. + </p> + <p> + McAllister was his name. He was an old man, and very shaky on his pins. + His hand trembled as with a palsy, especially noticeable when he poured + his whiskey, though I never knew him to spill a drop. He had been + twenty-eight years in Melanesia, ranging from German New Guinea to the + German Solomons, and so thoroughly had he become identified with that + portion of the world, that he habitually spoke in that bastard lingo + called “bech-de-mer.” Thus, in conversation with me, SUN HE COME UP meant + sunrise; KAI-KAI HE STOP meant that dinner was served; and BELLY BELONG ME + WALK ABOUT meant that he was sick at his stomach. He was a small man, and + a withered one, burned inside and outside by ardent spirits and ardent + sun. He was a cinder, a bit of a clinker of a man, a little animated + clinker, not yet quite cold, that moved stiffly and by starts and jerks + like an automaton. A gust of wind would have blown him away. He weighed + ninety pounds. + </p> + <p> + But the immense thing about him was the power with which he ruled. Oolong + Atoll was one hundred and forty miles in circumference. One steered by + compass course in its lagoon. It was populated by five thousand + Polynesians, all strapping men and women, many of them standing six feet + in height and weighing a couple of hundred pounds. Oolong was two hundred + and fifty miles from the nearest land. Twice a year a little schooner + called to collect copra. The one white man on Oolong was McAllister, petty + trader and unintermittent guzzler; and he ruled Oolong and its six + thousand savages with an iron hand. He said come, and they came, go, and + they went. They never questioned his will nor judgment. He was + cantankerous as only an aged Scotchman can be, and interfered continually + in their personal affairs. When Nugu, the king's daughter, wanted to marry + Haunau from the other end of the atoll, her father said yes; but + McAllister said no, and the marriage never came off. When the king wanted + to buy a certain islet in the lagoon from the chief priest, McAllister + said no. The king was in debt to the Company to the tune of 180,000 + cocoanuts, and until that was paid he was not to spend a single cocoanut + on anything else. + </p> + <p> + And yet the king and his people did not love McAllister. In truth, they + hated him horribly, and, to my knowledge, the whole population, with the + priests at the head, tried vainly for three months to pray him to death. + The devil-devils they sent after him were awe-inspiring, but since + McAllister did not believe in devil-devils, they were without power over + him. With drunken Scotchmen all signs fail. They gathered up scraps of + food which had touched his lips, an empty whiskey bottle, a cocoanut from + which he had drunk, and even his spittle, and performed all kinds of + deviltries over them. But McAllister lived on. His health was superb. He + never caught fever; nor coughs nor colds; dysentery passed him by; and the + malignant ulcers and vile skin diseases that attack blacks and whites + alike in that climate never fastened upon him. He must have been so + saturated with alcohol as to defy the lodgment of germs. I used to imagine + them falling to the ground in showers of microscopic cinders as fast as + they entered his whiskey-sodden aura. No one loved him, not even germs, + while he loved only whiskey, and still he lived. + </p> + <p> + I was puzzled. I could not understand six thousand natives putting up with + that withered shrimp of a tyrant. It was a miracle that he had not died + suddenly long since. Unlike the cowardly Melanesians, the people were + high-stomached and warlike. In the big graveyard, at head and feet of the + graves, were relics of past sanguinary history—blubber-spades, rusty + old bayonets and cutlasses, copper bolts, rudder-irons, harpoons, bomb + guns, bricks that could have come from nowhere but a whaler's trying-out + furnace, and old brass pieces of the sixteenth century that verified the + traditions of the early Spanish navigators. Ship after ship had come to + grief on Oolong. Not thirty years before, the whaler BLENNERDALE, running + into the lagoon for repair, had been cut off with all hands. In similar + fashion had the crew of the GASKET, a sandalwood trader, perished. There + was a big French bark, the TOULON, becalmed off the atoll, which the + islanders boarded after a sharp tussle and wrecked in the Lipau Passage, + the captain and a handful of sailors escaping in the longboat. Then there + were the Spanish pieces, which told of the loss of one of the early + explorers. All this, of the vessels named, is a matter of history, and is + to be found in the SOUTH PACIFIC SAILING DIRECTORY. But that there was + other history, unwritten, I was yet to learn. In the meantime I puzzled + why six thousand primitive savages let one degenerate Scotch despot live. + </p> + <p> + One hot afternoon McAllister and I sat on the veranda looking out over the + lagoon, with all its wonder of jeweled colors. At our backs, across the + hundred yards of palm-studded sand, the outer surf roared on the reef. It + was dreadfully warm. We were in four degree south latitude and the sun was + directly overhead, having crossed the Line a few days before on its + journey south. There was no wind—not even a catspaw. The season of + the southeast trade was drawing to an early close, and the northwest + monsoon had not yet begun to blow. + </p> + <p> + “They can't dance worth a damn,” said McAllister. + </p> + <p> + I had happened to mention that the Polynesian dances were superior to the + Papuan, and this McAllister had denied, for no other reason than his + cantankerousness. But it was too hot to argue, and I said nothing. + Besides, I had never seen the Oolong people dance. + </p> + <p> + “I'll prove it to you,” he announced, beckoning to the black New Hanover + boy, a labor recruit, who served as cook and general house servant. “Hey, + you, boy, you tell 'm one fella king come along me.” + </p> + <p> + The boy departed, and back came the prime minister, perturbed, ill at + ease, and garrulous with apologetic explanation. In short, the king slept, + and was not to be disturbed. + </p> + <p> + “King he plenty strong fella sleep,” was his final sentence. + </p> + <p> + McAllister was in such a rage that the prime minister incontinently fled, + to return with the king himself. They were a magnificent pair, the king + especially, who must have been all of six feet three inches in height. His + features had the eagle-like quality that is so frequently found in those + of the North American Indian. He had been molded and born to rule. His + eyes flashed as he listened, but right meekly he obeyed McAllister's + command to fetch a couple of hundred of the best dancers, male and female, + in the village. And dance they did, for two mortal hours, under that + broiling sun. They did not love him for it, and little he cared, in the + end dismissing them with abuse and sneers. + </p> + <p> + The abject servility of those magnificent savages was terrifying. How + could it be? What was the secret of his rule? More and more I puzzled as + the days went by, and though I observed perpetual examples of his + undisputed sovereignty, never a clew was there as to how it was. + </p> + <p> + One day I happened to speak of my disappointment in failing to trade for a + beautiful pair of orange cowries. The pair was worth five pounds in Sydney + if it was worth a cent. I had offered two hundred sticks of tobacco to the + owner, who had held out for three hundred. When I casually mentioned the + situation, McAllister immediately sent for the man, took the shells from + him, and turned them over to me. Fifty sticks were all he permitted me to + pay for them. The man accepted the tobacco and seemed overjoyed at getting + off so easily. As for me, I resolved to keep a bridle on my tongue in the + future. And still I mulled over the secret of McAllister's power. I even + went to the extent of asking him directly, but all he did was to cock one + eye, look wise, and take another drink. + </p> + <p> + One night I was out fishing in the lagoon with Oti, the man who had been + mulcted of the cowries. Privily, I had made up to him an additional + hundred and fifty sticks, and he had come to regard me with a respect that + was almost veneration, which was curious, seeing that he was an old man, + twice my age at least. + </p> + <p> + “What name you fella kanaka all the same pickaninny?” I began on him. + “This fella trader he one fella. You fella kanaka plenty fella too much. + You fella kanaka just like 'm dog—plenty fright along that fella + trader. He no eat you, fella. He no get 'm teeth along him. What name you + too much fright?” + </p> + <p> + “S'pose plenty fella kanaka kill 'm?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “He die,” I retorted. “You fella kanaka kill 'm plenty fella white man + long time before. What name you fright this fella white man?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, we kill 'm plenty,” was his answer. “My word! Any amount! Long time + before. One time, me young fella too much, one big fella ship he stop + outside. Wind he no blow. Plenty fella kanaka we get 'm canoe, plenty + fella canoe, we go catch 'm that fella ship. My word—we catch 'm big + fella fight. Two, three white men shoot like hell. We no fright. We come + alongside, we go up side, plenty fella, maybe I think fifty-ten (five + hundred). One fella white Mary (woman) belong that fella ship. Never + before I see 'm white Mary. Bime by plenty white man finish. One fella + skipper he no die. Five fella, six fella white man no die. Skipper he sing + out. Some fella white man he fight. Some fella white man he lower away + boat. After that, all together over the side they go. Skipper he sling + white Mary down. After that they washee (row) strong fella plenty too + much. Father belong me, that time he strong fella. He throw 'm one fella + spear. That fella spear he go in one side that white Mary. He no stop. My + word, he go out other side that fella Mary. She finish. Me no fright. + Plenty kanaka too much no fright.” + </p> + <p> + Old Oti's pride had been touched, for he suddenly stripped down his + lava-lava and showed me the unmistakable scar of a bullet. Before I could + speak, his line ran out suddenly. He checked it and attempted to haul in, + but found that the fish had run around a coral branch. Casting a look of + reproach at me for having beguiled him from his watchfulness, he went over + the side, feet first, turning over after he got under and following his + line down to bottom. The water was ten fathoms. I leaned over and watched + the play of his feet, growing dim and dimmer, as they stirred the wan + phosphorescence into ghostly fires. Ten fathoms—sixty feet—it + was nothing to him, an old man, compared with the value of a hook and + line. After what seemed five minutes, though it could not have been more + than a minute, I saw him flaming whitely upward. He broke surface and + dropped a ten pound rock cod into the canoe, the line and hook intact, the + latter still fast in the fish's mouth. + </p> + <p> + “It may be,” I said remorselessly. “You no fright long ago. You plenty + fright now along that fella trader.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, plenty fright,” he confessed, with an air of dismissing the subject. + For half an hour we pulled up our lines and flung them out in silence. + Then small fish-sharks began to bite, and after losing a hook apiece, we + hauled in and waited for the sharks to go their way. + </p> + <p> + “I speak you true,” Oti broke into speech, “then you savve we fright now.” + </p> + <p> + I lighted up my pipe and waited, and the story that Oti told me in + atrocious bech-de-mer I here turn into proper English. Otherwise, in + spirit and order of narrative, the tale is as it fell from Oti's lips. + </p> + <p> + “It was after that that we were very proud. We had fought many times with + the strange white men who live upon the sea, and always we had beaten + them. A few of us were killed, but what was that compared with the stores + of wealth of a thousand thousand kinds that we found on the ships? And + then one day, maybe twenty years ago, or twenty-five, there came a + schooner right through the passage and into the lagoon. It was a large + schooner with three masts. She had five white men and maybe forty boat's + crew, black fellows from New Guinea and New Britain; and she had come to + fish beche-de-mer. She lay at anchor across the lagoon from here, at + Pauloo, and her boats scattered out everywhere, making camps on the + beaches where they cured the beche-de-mer. This made them weak by dividing + them, for those who fished here and those on the schooner at Pauloo were + fifty miles apart, and there were others farther away still. + </p> + <p> + “Our king and headmen held council, and I was one in the canoe that + paddled all afternoon and all night across the lagoon, bringing word to + the people of Pauloo that in the morning we would attack the fishing camps + at the one time and that it was for them to take the schooner. We who + brought the word were tired with the paddling, but we took part in the + attack. On the schooner were two white men, the skipper and the second + mate, with half a dozen black boys. The skipper with three boys we caught + on shore and killed, but first eight of us the skipper killed with his two + revolvers. We fought close together, you see, at hand grapples. + </p> + <p> + “The noise of our fighting told the mate what was happening, and he put + food and water and a sail in the small dingy, which was so small that it + was no more than twelve feet long. We came down upon the schooner, a + thousand men, covering the lagoon with our canoes. Also, we were blowing + conch shells, singing war songs, and striking the sides of the canoes with + our paddles. What chance had one white man and three black boys against + us? No chance at all, and the mate knew it. + </p> + <p> + “White men are hell. I have watched them much, and I am an old man now, + and I understand at last why the white men have taken to themselves all + the islands in the sea. It is because they are hell. Here are you in the + canoe with me. You are hardly more than a boy. You are not wise, for each + day I tell you many things you do not know. When I was a little + pickaninny, I knew more about fish and the ways of fish than you know now. + I am an old man, but I swim down to the bottom of the lagoon, and you + cannot follow me. What are you good for, anyway? I do not know, except to + fight. I have never seen you fight, yet I know that you are like your + brothers and that you will fight like hell. Also, you are a fool, like + your brothers. You do not know when you are beaten. You will fight until + you die, and then it will be too late to know that you are beaten. + </p> + <p> + “Now behold what this mate did. As we came down upon him, covering the sea + and blowing our conches, he put off from the schooner in the small boat, + along with the three black boys, and rowed for the passage. There again he + was a fool, for no wise man would put out to sea in so small a boat. The + sides of it were not four inches above the water. Twenty canoes went after + him, filled with two hundred young men. We paddled five fathoms while his + black boys were rowing one fathom. He had no chance, but he was a fool. He + stood up in the boat with a rifle, and he shot many times. He was not a + good shot, but as we drew close many of us were wounded and killed. But + still he had no chance. + </p> + <p> + “I remember that all the time he was smoking a cigar. When we were forty + feet away and coming fast, he dropped the rifle, lighted a stick of + dynamite with the cigar, and threw it at us. He lighted another and + another, and threw them at us very rapidly, many of them. I know now that + he must have split the ends of the fuses and stuck in match heads, because + they lighted so quickly. Also, the fuses were very short. Sometimes the + dynamite sticks went off in the air, but most of them went off in the + canoes. And each time they went off in a canoe, that canoe was finished. + Of the twenty canoes, the half were smashed to pieces. The canoe I was in + was so smashed, and likewise the two men who sat next to me. The dynamite + fell between them. The other canoes turned and ran away. Then that mate + yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' at us. Also he went at us again with his rifle, so + that many were killed through the back as they fled away. And all the time + the black boys in the boat went on rowing. You see, I told you true, that + mate was hell. + </p> + <p> + “Nor was that all. Before he left the schooner, he set her on fire, and + fixed up all the powder and dynamite so that it would go off at one time. + There were hundreds of us on board, trying to put out the fire, heaving up + water from overside, when the schooner blew up. So that all we had fought + for was lost to us, besides many more of us being killed. Sometimes, even + now, in my old age, I have bad dreams in which I hear that mate yell, Yah! + Yah! Yah!' In a voice of thunder he yells, Yah! Yah! Yah!' But all those + in the fishing camps were killed. + </p> + <p> + “The mate went out of the passage in his little boat, and that was the end + of him we made sure, for how could so small a boat, with four men in it, + live on the ocean? A month went by, and then, one morning, between two + rain squalls, a schooner sailed in through our passage and dropped anchor + before the village. The king and the headmen made big talk, and it was + agreed that we would take the schooner in two or three days. In the + meantime, as it was our custom always to appear friendly, we went off to + her in canoes, bringing strings of cocoanuts, fowls, and pigs, to trade. + But when we were alongside, many canoes of us, the men on board began to + shoot us with rifles, and as we paddled away I saw the mate who had gone + to sea in the little boat spring upon the rail and dance and yell, Yah! + Yah! Yah!' + </p> + <p> + “That afternoon they landed from the schooner in three small boats filled + with white men. They went right through the village, shooting every man + they saw. Also they shot the fowls and pigs. We who were not killed got + away in canoes and paddled out into the lagoon. Looking back, we could see + all the houses on fire. Late in the afternoon we saw many canoes coming + from Nihi, which is the village near the Nihi Passage in the northeast. + They were all that were left, and like us their village had been burned by + a second schooner that had come through Nihi Passage. + </p> + <p> + “We stood on in the darkness to the westward for Pauloo, but in the middle + of the night we heard women wailing and then we ran into a big fleet of + canoes. They were all that were left of Pauloo, which likewise was in + ashes, for a third schooner had come in through the Pauloo Passage. You + see, that mate, with his black boys, had not been drowned. He had made the + Solomon Islands, and there told his brothers of what we had done in + Oolong. And all his brothers had said they would come and punish us, and + there they were in the three schooners, and our three villages were wiped + out. + </p> + <p> + “And what was there for us to do? In the morning the two schooners from + windward sailed down upon us in the middle of the lagoon. The trade wind + was blowing fresh, and by scores of canoes they ran us down. And the + rifles never ceased talking. We scattered like flying fish before the + bonita, and there were so many of us that we escaped by thousands, this + way and that, to the islands on the rim of the atoll. + </p> + <p> + “And thereafter the schooners hunted us up and down the lagoon. In the + nighttime we slipped past them. But the next day, or in two days or three + days, the schooners would be coming back, hunting us toward the other end + of the lagoon. And so it went. We no longer counted nor remembered our + dead. True, we were many and they were few. But what could we do? I was in + one of the twenty canoes filled with men who were not afraid to die. We + attacked the smallest schooner. They shot us down in heaps. They threw + dynamite into the canoes, and when the dynamite gave out, they threw hot + water down upon us. And the rifles never ceased talking. And those whose + canoes were smashed were shot as they swam away. And the mate danced up + and down upon the cabin top and yelled, 'Yah! Yah! Yah!'” + </p> + <p> + “Every house on every smallest island was burned. Not a pig nor a fowl was + left alive. Our wells were defiled with the bodies of the slain, or else + heaped high with coral rock. We were twenty-five thousand on Oolong before + the three schooners came. Today we are five thousand. After the schooners + left, we were but three thousand, as you shall see. + </p> + <p> + “At last the three schooners grew tired of chasing us back and forth. So + they went, the three of them, to Nihi, in the northeast. And then they + drove us steadily to the west. Their nine boats were in the water as well. + They beat up every island as they moved along. They drove us, drove us, + drove us day by day. And every night the three schooners and the nine + boats made a chain of watchfulness that stretched across the lagoon from + rim to rim, so that we could not escape back. + </p> + <p> + “They could not drive us forever that way, for the lagoon was only so + large, and at last all of us that yet lived were driven upon the last sand + bank to the west. Beyond lay the open sea. There were ten thousand of us, + and we covered the sand bank from the lagoon edge to the pounding surf on + the other side. No one could lie down. There was no room. We stood hip to + hip and shoulder to shoulder. Two days they kept us there, and the mate + would climb up in the rigging to mock us and yell, Yah! Yah! Yah!' till we + were well sorry that we had ever harmed him or his schooner a month + before. We had no food, and we stood on our feet two days and nights. The + little babies died, and the old and weak died, and the wounded died. And + worst of all, we had no water to quench our thirst, and for two days the + sun beat down on us, and there was no shade. Many men and women waded out + into the ocean and were drowned, the surf casting their bodies back on the + beach. And there came a pest of flies. Some men swam to the sides of the + schooners, but they were shot to the last one. And we that lived were very + sorry that in our pride we tried to take the schooner with the three masts + that came to fish for beche-de-mer. + </p> + <p> + “On the morning of the third day came the skippers of the three schooners + and that mate in a small boat. They carried rifles, all of them, and + revolvers, and they made talk. It was only that they were weary of killing + us that they had stopped, they told us. And we told them that we were + sorry, that never again would we harm a white man, and in token of our + submission we poured sand upon our heads. And all the women and children + set up a great wailing for water, so that for some time no man could make + himself heard. Then we were told our punishment. We must fill the three + schooners with copra and beche-de-mer. And we agreed, for we wanted water, + and our hearts were broken, and we knew that we were children at fighting + when we fought with white men who fight like hell. And when all the talk + was finished, the mate stood up and mocked us, and yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' + After that we paddled away in our canoes and sought water. + </p> + <p> + “And for weeks we toiled at catching beche-de-mer and curing it, in + gathering the cocoanuts and turning them into copra. By day and night the + smoke rose in clouds from all the beaches of all the islands of Oolong as + we paid the penalty of our wrongdoing. For in those days of death it was + burned clearly on all our brains that it was very wrong to harm a white + man. + </p> + <p> + “By and by, the schooners full of copra and beche-de-mer and our trees + empty of cocoanuts, the three skippers and that mate called us all + together for a big talk. And they said they were very glad that we had + learned our lesson, and we said for the ten-thousandth time that we were + sorry and that we would not do it again. Also, we poured sand upon our + heads. Then the skippers said that it was all very well, but just to show + us that they did not forget us, they would send a devil-devil that we + would never forget and that we would always remember any time we might + feel like harming a white man. After that the mate mocked us one more time + and yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' Then six of our men, whom we thought long + dead, were put ashore from one of the schooners, and the schooners hoisted + their sails and ran out through the passage for the Solomons. + </p> + <p> + “The six men who were put ashore were the first to catch the devil-devil + the skippers sent back after us.” + </p> + <p> + “A great sickness came,” I interrupted, for I recognized the trick. The + schooner had had measles on board, and the six prisoners had been + deliberately exposed to it. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, a great sickness,” Oti went on. “It was a powerful devil-devil. The + oldest man had never heard of the like. Those of our priests that yet + lived we killed because they could not overcome the devil-devil. The + sickness spread. I have said that there were ten thousand of us that stood + hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder on the sandbank. When the sickness + left us, there were three thousand yet alive. Also, having made all our + cocoanuts into copra, there was a famine. + </p> + <p> + “That fella trader,” Oti concluded, “he like 'm that much dirt. He like 'm + clam he die KAI-KAI (meat) he stop, stink 'm any amount. He like 'm one + fella dog, one sick fella dog plenty fleas stop along him. We no fright + along that fella trader. We fright because he white man. We savve plenty + too much no good kill white man. That one fella sick dog trader he plenty + brother stop along him, white men like 'm you fight like hell. We no + fright that damn trader. Some time he made kanaka plenty cross along him + and kanaka want 'm kill m, kanaka he think devil-devil and kanaka he hear + that fella mate sing out, Yah! Yah! Yah!' and kanaka no kill 'm.” + </p> + <p> + Oti baited his hook with a piece of squid, which he tore with his teeth + from the live and squirming monster, and hook and bait sank in white + flames to the bottom. + </p> + <p> + “Shark walk about he finish,” he said. “I think we catch 'm plenty fella + fish.” + </p> + <p> + His line jerked savagely. He pulled it in rapidly, hand under hand, and + landed a big gasping rock cod in the bottom of the canoe. + </p> + <p> + “Sun he come up, I make 'm that dam fella trader one present big fella + fish,” said Oti. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE HEATHEN + </h2> + <p> + I met him first in a hurricane; and though we had gone through the + hurricane on the same schooner, it was not until the schooner had gone to + pieces under us that I first laid eyes on him. Without doubt I had seen + him with the rest of the kanaka crew on board, but I had not consciously + been aware of his existence, for the Petite Jeanne was rather overcrowded. + In addition to her eight or ten kanaka seamen, her white captain, mate, + and supercargo, and her six cabin passengers, she sailed from Rangiroa + with something like eighty-five deck passengers—Paumotans and + Tahitians, men, women, and children each with a trade box, to say nothing + of sleeping mats, blankets, and clothes bundles. + </p> + <p> + The pearling season in the Paumotus was over, and all hands were returning + to Tahiti. The six of us cabin passengers were pearl buyers. Two were + Americans, one was Ah Choon (the whitest Chinese I have ever known), one + was a German, one was a Polish Jew, and I completed the half dozen. + </p> + <p> + It had been a prosperous season. Not one of us had cause for complaint, + nor one of the eighty-five deck passengers either. All had done well, and + all were looking forward to a rest-off and a good time in Papeete. + </p> + <p> + Of course, the Petite Jeanne was overloaded. She was only seventy tons, + and she had no right to carry a tithe of the mob she had on board. Beneath + her hatches she was crammed and jammed with pearl shell and copra. Even + the trade room was packed full with shell. It was a miracle that the + sailors could work her. There was no moving about the decks. They simply + climbed back and forth along the rails. + </p> + <p> + In the night time they walked upon the sleepers, who carpeted the deck, + I'll swear, two deep. Oh! And there were pigs and chickens on deck, and + sacks of yams, while every conceivable place was festooned with strings of + drinking cocoanuts and bunches of bananas. On both sides, between the fore + and main shrouds, guys had been stretched, just low enough for the + foreboom to swing clear; and from each of these guys at least fifty + bunches of bananas were suspended. + </p> + <p> + It promised to be a messy passage, even if we did make it in the two or + three days that would have been required if the southeast trades had been + blowing fresh. But they weren't blowing fresh. After the first five hours + the trade died away in a dozen or so gasping fans. The calm continued all + that night and the next day—one of those glaring, glassy, calms, + when the very thought of opening one's eyes to look at it is sufficient to + cause a headache. + </p> + <p> + The second day a man died—an Easter Islander, one of the best divers + that season in the lagoon. Smallpox—that is what it was; though how + smallpox could come on board, when there had been no known cases ashore + when we left Rangiroa, is beyond me. There it was, though—smallpox, + a man dead, and three others down on their backs. + </p> + <p> + There was nothing to be done. We could not segregate the sick, nor could + we care for them. We were packed like sardines. There was nothing to do + but rot and die—that is, there was nothing to do after the night + that followed the first death. On that night, the mate, the supercargo, + the Polish Jew, and four native divers sneaked away in the large whale + boat. They were never heard of again. In the morning the captain promptly + scuttled the remaining boats, and there we were. + </p> + <p> + That day there were two deaths; the following day three; then it jumped to + eight. It was curious to see how we took it. The natives, for instance, + fell into a condition of dumb, stolid fear. The captain—Oudouse, his + name was, a Frenchman—became very nervous and voluble. He actually + got the twitches. He was a large fleshy man, weighing at least two hundred + pounds, and he quickly became a faithful representation of a quivering + jelly-mountain of fat. + </p> + <p> + The German, the two Americans, and myself bought up all the Scotch + whiskey, and proceeded to stay drunk. The theory was beautiful—namely, + if we kept ourselves soaked in alcohol, every smallpox germ that came into + contact with us would immediately be scorched to a cinder. And the theory + worked, though I must confess that neither Captain Oudouse nor Ah Choon + were attacked by the disease either. The Frenchman did not drink at all, + while Ah Choon restricted himself to one drink daily. + </p> + <p> + It was a pretty time. The sun, going into northern declination, was + straight overhead. There was no wind, except for frequent squalls, which + blew fiercely for from five minutes to half an hour, and wound up by + deluging us with rain. After each squall, the awful sun would come out, + drawing clouds of steam from the soaked decks. + </p> + <p> + The steam was not nice. It was the vapor of death, freighted with millions + and millions of germs. We always took another drink when we saw it going + up from the dead and dying, and usually we took two or three more drinks, + mixing them exceptionally stiff. Also, we made it a rule to take an + additional several each time they hove the dead over to the sharks that + swarmed about us. + </p> + <p> + We had a week of it, and then the whiskey gave out. It is just as well, or + I shouldn't be alive now. It took a sober man to pull through what + followed, as you will agree when I mention the little fact that only two + men did pull through. The other man was the heathen—at least, that + was what I heard Captain Oudouse call him at the moment I first became + aware of the heathen's existence. But to come back. + </p> + <p> + It was at the end of the week, with the whiskey gone, and the pearl buyers + sober, that I happened to glance at the barometer that hung in the cabin + companionway. Its normal register in the Paumotus was 29.90, and it was + quite customary to see it vacillate between 29.85 and 30.00, or even + 30.05; but to see it as I saw it, down to 29.62, was sufficient to sober + the most drunken pearl buyer that ever incinerated smallpox microbes in + Scotch whiskey. + </p> + <p> + I called Captain Oudouse's attention to it, only to be informed that he + had watched it going down for several hours. There was little to do, but + that little he did very well, considering the circumstances. He took off + the light sails, shortened right down to storm canvas, spread life lines, + and waited for the wind. His mistake lay in what he did after the wind + came. He hove to on the port tack, which was the right thing to do south + of the Equator, if—and there was the rub—IF one were NOT in + the direct path of the hurricane. + </p> + <p> + We were in the direct path. I could see that by the steady increase of the + wind and the equally steady fall of the barometer. I wanted him to turn + and run with the wind on the port quarter until the barometer ceased + falling, and then to heave to. We argued till he was reduced to hysteria, + but budge he would not. The worst of it was that I could not get the rest + of the pearl buyers to back me up. Who was I, anyway, to know more about + the sea and its ways than a properly qualified captain? was what was in + their minds, I knew. + </p> + <p> + Of course, the sea rose with the wind frightfully; and I shall never + forget the first three seas the Petite Jeanne shipped. She had fallen off, + as vessels do at times when hove to, and the first sea made a clean + breach. The life lines were only for the strong and well, and little good + were they even for them when the women and children, the bananas and + cocoanuts, the pigs and trade boxes, the sick and the dying, were swept + along in a solid, screeching, groaning mass. + </p> + <p> + The second sea filled the Petite Jeanne's decks flush with the rails; and, + as her stern sank down and her bow tossed skyward, all the miserable + dunnage of life and luggage poured aft. It was a human torrent. They came + head first, feet first, sidewise, rolling over and over, twisting, + squirming, writhing, and crumpling up. Now and again one caught a grip on + a stanchion or a rope; but the weight of the bodies behind tore such grips + loose. + </p> + <p> + One man I noticed fetch up, head on and square on, with the starboard + bitt. His head cracked like an egg. I saw what was coming, sprang on top + of the cabin, and from there into the mainsail itself. Ah Choon and one of + the Americans tried to follow me, but I was one jump ahead of them. The + American was swept away and over the stern like a piece of chaff. Ah Choon + caught a spoke of the wheel, and swung in behind it. But a strapping + Raratonga vahine (woman)—she must have weighed two hundred and fifty—brought + up against him, and got an arm around his neck. He clutched the kanaka + steersman with his other hand; and just at that moment the schooner flung + down to starboard. + </p> + <p> + The rush of bodies and sea that was coming along the port runway between + the cabin and the rail turned abruptly and poured to starboard. Away they + went—vahine, Ah Choon, and steersman; and I swear I saw Ah Choon + grin at me with philosophic resignation as he cleared the rail and went + under. + </p> + <p> + The third sea—the biggest of the three—did not do so much + damage. By the time it arrived nearly everybody was in the rigging. On + deck perhaps a dozen gasping, half-drowned, and half-stunned wretches were + rolling about or attempting to crawl into safety. They went by the board, + as did the wreckage of the two remaining boats. The other pearl buyers and + myself, between seas, managed to get about fifteen women and children into + the cabin, and battened down. Little good it did the poor creatures in the + end. + </p> + <p> + Wind? Out of all my experience I could not have believed it possible for + the wind to blow as it did. There is no describing it. How can one + describe a nightmare? It was the same way with that wind. It tore the + clothes off our bodies. I say TORE THEM OFF, and I mean it. I am not + asking you to believe it. I am merely telling something that I saw and + felt. There are times when I do not believe it myself. I went through it, + and that is enough. One could not face that wind and live. It was a + monstrous thing, and the most monstrous thing about it was that it + increased and continued to increase. + </p> + <p> + Imagine countless millions and billions of tons of sand. Imagine this sand + tearing along at ninety, a hundred, a hundred and twenty, or any other + number of miles per hour. Imagine, further, this sand to be invisible, + impalpable, yet to retain all the weight and density of sand. Do all this, + and you may get a vague inkling of what that wind was like. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps sand is not the right comparison. Consider it mud, invisible, + impalpable, but heavy as mud. Nay, it goes beyond that. Consider every + molecule of air to be a mudbank in itself. Then try to imagine the + multitudinous impact of mudbanks. No; it is beyond me. Language may be + adequate to express the ordinary conditions of life, but it cannot + possibly express any of the conditions of so enormous a blast of wind. It + would have been better had I stuck by my original intention of not + attempting a description. + </p> + <p> + I will say this much: The sea, which had risen at first, was beaten down + by that wind. More: it seemed as if the whole ocean had been sucked up in + the maw of the hurricane, and hurled on through that portion of space + which previously had been occupied by the air. + </p> + <p> + Of course, our canvas had gone long before. But Captain Oudouse had on the + Petite Jeanne something I had never before seen on a South Sea schooner—a + sea anchor. It was a conical canvas bag, the mouth of which was kept open + by a huge loop of iron. The sea anchor was bridled something like a kite, + so that it bit into the water as a kite bites into the air, but with a + difference. The sea anchor remained just under the surface of the ocean in + a perpendicular position. A long line, in turn, connected it with the + schooner. As a result, the Petite Jeanne rode bow on to the wind and to + what sea there was. + </p> + <p> + The situation really would have been favorable had we not been in the path + of the storm. True, the wind itself tore our canvas out of the gaskets, + jerked out our topmasts, and made a raffle of our running gear, but still + we would have come through nicely had we not been square in front of the + advancing storm center. That was what fixed us. I was in a state of + stunned, numbed, paralyzed collapse from enduring the impact of the wind, + and I think I was just about ready to give up and die when the center + smote us. The blow we received was an absolute lull. There was not a + breath of air. The effect on one was sickening. + </p> + <p> + Remember that for hours we had been at terrific muscular tension, + withstanding the awful pressure of that wind. And then, suddenly, the + pressure was removed. I know that I felt as though I was about to expand, + to fly apart in all directions. It seemed as if every atom composing my + body was repelling every other atom and was on the verge of rushing off + irresistibly into space. But that lasted only for a moment. Destruction + was upon us. + </p> + <p> + In the absence of the wind and pressure the sea rose. It jumped, it + leaped, it soared straight toward the clouds. Remember, from every point + of the compass that inconceivable wind was blowing in toward the center of + calm. The result was that the seas sprang up from every point of the + compass. There was no wind to check them. They popped up like corks + released from the bottom of a pail of water. There was no system to them, + no stability. They were hollow, maniacal seas. They were eighty feet high + at the least. They were not seas at all. They resembled no sea a man had + ever seen. + </p> + <p> + They were splashes, monstrous splashes—that is all. Splashes that + were eighty feet high. Eighty! They were more than eighty. They went over + our mastheads. They were spouts, explosions. They were drunken. They fell + anywhere, anyhow. They jostled one another; they collided. They rushed + together and collapsed upon one another, or fell apart like a thousand + waterfalls all at once. It was no ocean any man had ever dreamed of, that + hurricane center. It was confusion thrice confounded. It was anarchy. It + was a hell pit of sea water gone mad. + </p> + <p> + The Petite Jeanne? I don't know. The heathen told me afterwards that he + did not know. She was literally torn apart, ripped wide open, beaten into + a pulp, smashed into kindling wood, annihilated. When I came to I was in + the water, swimming automatically, though I was about two-thirds drowned. + How I got there I had no recollection. I remembered seeing the Petite + Jeanne fly to pieces at what must have been the instant that my own + consciousness was buffeted out of me. But there I was, with nothing to do + but make the best of it, and in that best there was little promise. The + wind was blowing again, the sea was much smaller and more regular, and I + knew that I had passed through the center. Fortunately, there were no + sharks about. The hurricane had dissipated the ravenous horde that had + surrounded the death ship and fed off the dead. + </p> + <p> + It was about midday when the Petite Jeanne went to pieces, and it must + have been two hours afterwards when I picked up with one of her hatch + covers. Thick rain was driving at the time; and it was the merest chance + that flung me and the hatch cover together. A short length of line was + trailing from the rope handle; and I knew that I was good for a day, at + least, if the sharks did not return. Three hours later, possibly a little + longer, sticking close to the cover, and with closed eyes, concentrating + my whole soul upon the task of breathing in enough air to keep me going + and at the same time of avoiding breathing in enough water to drown me, it + seemed to me that I heard voices. The rain had ceased, and wind and sea + were easing marvelously. Not twenty feet away from me, on another hatch + cover were Captain Oudouse and the heathen. They were fighting over the + possession of the cover—at least, the Frenchman was. “Paien noir!” I + heard him scream, and at the same time I saw him kick the kanaka. + </p> + <p> + Now, Captain Oudouse had lost all his clothes, except his shoes, and they + were heavy brogans. It was a cruel blow, for it caught the heathen on the + mouth and the point of the chin, half stunning him. I looked for him to + retaliate, but he contented himself with swimming about forlornly a safe + ten feet away. Whenever a fling of the sea threw him closer, the + Frenchman, hanging on with his hands, kicked out at him with both feet. + Also, at the moment of delivering each kick, he called the kanaka a black + heathen. + </p> + <p> + “For two centimes I'd come over there and drown you, you white beast!” I + yelled. + </p> + <p> + The only reason I did not go was that I felt too tired. The very thought + of the effort to swim over was nauseating. So I called to the kanaka to + come to me, and proceeded to share the hatch cover with him. Otoo, he told + me his name was (pronounced o-to-o ); also, he told me that he was a + native of Bora Bora, the most westerly of the Society Group. As I learned + afterward, he had got the hatch cover first, and, after some time, + encountering Captain Oudouse, had offered to share it with him, and had + been kicked off for his pains. + </p> + <p> + And that was how Otoo and I first came together. He was no fighter. He was + all sweetness and gentleness, a love creature, though he stood nearly six + feet tall and was muscled like a gladiator. He was no fighter, but he was + also no coward. He had the heart of a lion; and in the years that followed + I have seen him run risks that I would never dream of taking. What I mean + is that while he was no fighter, and while he always avoided precipitating + a row, he never ran away from trouble when it started. And it was “Ware + shoal!” when once Otoo went into action. I shall never forget what he did + to Bill King. It occurred in German Samoa. Bill King was hailed the + champion heavyweight of the American Navy. He was a big brute of a man, a + veritable gorilla, one of those hard-hitting, rough-housing chaps, and + clever with his fists as well. He picked the quarrel, and he kicked Otoo + twice and struck him once before Otoo felt it to be necessary to fight. I + don't think it lasted four minutes, at the end of which time Bill King was + the unhappy possessor of four broken ribs, a broken forearm, and a + dislocated shoulder blade. Otoo knew nothing of scientific boxing. He was + merely a manhandler; and Bill King was something like three months in + recovering from the bit of manhandling he received that afternoon on Apia + beach. + </p> + <p> + But I am running ahead of my yarn. We shared the hatch cover between us. + We took turn and turn about, one lying flat on the cover and resting, + while the other, submerged to the neck, merely held on with his hands. For + two days and nights, spell and spell, on the cover and in the water, we + drifted over the ocean. Towards the last I was delirious most of the time; + and there were times, too, when I heard Otoo babbling and raving in his + native tongue. Our continuous immersion prevented us from dying of thirst, + though the sea water and the sunshine gave us the prettiest imaginable + combination of salt pickle and sunburn. + </p> + <p> + In the end, Otoo saved my life; for I came to lying on the beach twenty + feet from the water, sheltered from the sun by a couple of cocoanut + leaves. No one but Otoo could have dragged me there and stuck up the + leaves for shade. He was lying beside me. I went off again; and the next + time I came round, it was cool and starry night, and Otoo was pressing a + drinking cocoanut to my lips. + </p> + <p> + We were the sole survivors of the Petite Jeanne. Captain Oudouse must have + succumbed to exhaustion, for several days later his hatch cover drifted + ashore without him. Otoo and I lived with the natives of the atoll for a + week, when we were rescued by the French cruiser and taken to Tahiti. In + the meantime, however, we had performed the ceremony of exchanging names. + In the South Seas such a ceremony binds two men closer together than blood + brothership. The initiative had been mine; and Otoo was rapturously + delighted when I suggested it. + </p> + <p> + “It is well,” he said, in Tahitian. “For we have been mates together for + two days on the lips of Death.” + </p> + <p> + “But death stuttered,” I smiled. + </p> + <p> + “It was a brave deed you did, master,” he replied, “and Death was not vile + enough to speak.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you 'master' me?” I demanded, with a show of hurt feelings. “We + have exchanged names. To you I am Otoo. To me you are Charley. And between + you and me, forever and forever, you shall be Charley, and I shall be + Otoo. It is the way of the custom. And when we die, if it does happen that + we live again somewhere beyond the stars and the sky, still shall you be + Charley to me, and I Otoo to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, master,” he answered, his eyes luminous and soft with joy. + </p> + <p> + “There you go!” I cried indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “What does it matter what my lips utter?” he argued. “They are only my + lips. But I shall think Otoo always. Whenever I think of myself, I shall + think of you. Whenever men call me by name, I shall think of you. And + beyond the sky and beyond the stars, always and forever, you shall be Otoo + to me. Is it well, master?” + </p> + <p> + I hid my smile, and answered that it was well. + </p> + <p> + We parted at Papeete. I remained ashore to recuperate; and he went on in a + cutter to his own island, Bora Bora. Six weeks later he was back. I was + surprised, for he had told me of his wife, and said that he was returning + to her, and would give over sailing on far voyages. + </p> + <p> + “Where do you go, master?” he asked, after our first greetings. + </p> + <p> + I shrugged my shoulders. It was a hard question. + </p> + <p> + “All the world,” was my answer—“all the world, all the sea, and all + the islands that are in the sea.” + </p> + <p> + “I will go with you,” he said simply. “My wife is dead.” + </p> + <p> + I never had a brother; but from what I have seen of other men's brothers, + I doubt if any man ever had a brother that was to him what Otoo was to me. + He was brother and father and mother as well. And this I know: I lived a + straighter and better man because of Otoo. I cared little for other men, + but I had to live straight in Otoo's eyes. Because of him I dared not + tarnish myself. He made me his ideal, compounding me, I fear, chiefly out + of his own love and worship and there were times when I stood close to the + steep pitch of hell, and would have taken the plunge had not the thought + of Otoo restrained me. His pride in me entered into me, until it became + one of the major rules in my personal code to do nothing that would + diminish that pride of his. + </p> + <p> + Naturally, I did not learn right away what his feelings were toward me. He + never criticized, never censured; and slowly the exalted place I held in + his eyes dawned upon me, and slowly I grew to comprehend the hurt I could + inflict upon him by being anything less than my best. + </p> + <p> + For seventeen years we were together; for seventeen years he was at my + shoulder, watching while I slept, nursing me through fever and wounds—ay, + and receiving wounds in fighting for me. He signed on the same ships with + me; and together we ranged the Pacific from Hawaii to Sydney Head, and + from Torres Straits to the Galapagos. We blackbirded from the New Hebrides + and the Line Islands over to the westward clear through the Louisades, New + Britain, New Ireland, and New Hanover. We were wrecked three times—in + the Gilberts, in the Santa Cruz group, and in the Fijis. And we traded and + salved wherever a dollar promised in the way of pearl and pearl shell, + copra, beche-de-mer, hawkbill turtle shell, and stranded wrecks. + </p> + <p> + It began in Papeete, immediately after his announcement that he was going + with me over all the sea, and the islands in the midst thereof. There was + a club in those days in Papeete, where the pearlers, traders, captains, + and riffraff of South Sea adventurers forgathered. The play ran high, and + the drink ran high; and I am very much afraid that I kept later hours than + were becoming or proper. No matter what the hour was when I left the club, + there was Otoo waiting to see me safely home. + </p> + <p> + At first I smiled; next I chided him. Then I told him flatly that I stood + in need of no wet-nursing. After that I did not see him when I came out of + the club. Quite by accident, a week or so later, I discovered that he + still saw me home, lurking across the street among the shadows of the + mango trees. What could I do? I know what I did do. + </p> + <p> + Insensibly I began to keep better hours. On wet and stormy nights, in the + thick of the folly and the fun, the thought would persist in coming to me + of Otoo keeping his dreary vigil under the dripping mangoes. Truly, he + made a better man of me. Yet he was not strait-laced. And he knew nothing + of common Christian morality. All the people on Bora Bora were Christians; + but he was a heathen, the only unbeliever on the island, a gross + materialist, who believed that when he died he was dead. He believed + merely in fair play and square dealing. Petty meanness, in his code, was + almost as serious as wanton homicide; and I do believe that he respected a + murderer more than a man given to small practices. + </p> + <p> + Concerning me, personally, he objected to my doing anything that was + hurtful to me. Gambling was all right. He was an ardent gambler himself. + But late hours, he explained, were bad for one's health. He had seen men + who did not take care of themselves die of fever. He was no teetotaler, + and welcomed a stiff nip any time when it was wet work in the boats. On + the other hand, he believed in liquor in moderation. He had seen many men + killed or disgraced by square-face or Scotch. + </p> + <p> + Otoo had my welfare always at heart. He thought ahead for me, weighed my + plans, and took a greater interest in them than I did myself. At first, + when I was unaware of this interest of his in my affairs, he had to divine + my intentions, as, for instance, at Papeete, when I contemplated going + partners with a knavish fellow-countryman on a guano venture. I did not + know he was a knave. Nor did any white man in Papeete. Neither did Otoo + know, but he saw how thick we were getting, and found out for me, and + without my asking him. Native sailors from the ends of the seas knock + about on the beach in Tahiti; and Otoo, suspicious merely, went among them + till he had gathered sufficient data to justify his suspicions. Oh, it was + a nice history, that of Randolph Waters. I couldn't believe it when Otoo + first narrated it; but when I sheeted it home to Waters he gave in without + a murmur, and got away on the first steamer to Aukland. + </p> + <p> + At first, I am free to confess, I couldn't help resenting Otoo's poking + his nose into my business. But I knew that he was wholly unselfish; and + soon I had to acknowledge his wisdom and discretion. He had his eyes open + always to my main chance, and he was both keen-sighted and far-sighted. In + time he became my counselor, until he knew more of my business than I did + myself. He really had my interest at heart more than I did. Mine was the + magnificent carelessness of youth, for I preferred romance to dollars, and + adventure to a comfortable billet with all night in. So it was well that I + had some one to look out for me. I know that if it had not been for Otoo, + I should not be here today. + </p> + <p> + Of numerous instances, let me give one. I had had some experience in + blackbirding before I went pearling in the Paumotus. Otoo and I were on + the beach in Samoa—we really were on the beach and hard aground—when + my chance came to go as recruiter on a blackbird brig. Otoo signed on + before the mast; and for the next half-dozen years, in as many ships, we + knocked about the wildest portions of Melanesia. Otoo saw to it that he + always pulled stroke-oar in my boat. Our custom in recruiting labor was to + land the recruiter on the beach. The covering boat always lay on its oars + several hundred feet off shore, while the recruiter's boat, also lying on + its oars, kept afloat on the edge of the beach. When I landed with my + trade goods, leaving my steering sweep apeak, Otoo left his stroke + position and came into the stern sheets, where a Winchester lay ready to + hand under a flap of canvas. The boat's crew was also armed, the Sniders + concealed under canvas flaps that ran the length of the gunwales. + </p> + <p> + While I was busy arguing and persuading the woolly-headed cannibals to + come and labor on the Queensland plantations Otoo kept watch. And often + and often his low voice warned me of suspicious actions and impending + treachery. Sometimes it was the quick shot from his rifle, knocking a + nigger over, that was the first warning I received. And in my rush to the + boat his hand was always there to jerk me flying aboard. Once, I remember, + on SANTA ANNA, the boat grounded just as the trouble began. The covering + boat was dashing to our assistance, but the several score of savages would + have wiped us out before it arrived. Otoo took a flying leap ashore, dug + both hands into the trade goods, and scattered tobacco, beads, tomahawks, + knives, and calicoes in all directions. + </p> + <p> + This was too much for the woolly-heads. While they scrambled for the + treasures, the boat was shoved clear, and we were aboard and forty feet + away. And I got thirty recruits off that very beach in the next four + hours. + </p> + <p> + The particular instance I have in mind was on Malaita, the most savage + island in the easterly Solomons. The natives had been remarkably friendly; + and how were we to know that the whole village had been taking up a + collection for over two years with which to buy a white man's head? The + beggars are all head-hunters, and they especially esteem a white man's + head. The fellow who captured the head would receive the whole collection. + As I say, they appeared very friendly; and on this day I was fully a + hundred yards down the beach from the boat. Otoo had cautioned me; and, as + usual when I did not heed him, I came to grief. + </p> + <p> + The first I knew, a cloud of spears sailed out of the mangrove swamp at + me. At least a dozen were sticking into me. I started to run, but tripped + over one that was fast in my calf, and went down. The woolly-heads made a + run for me, each with a long-handled, fantail tomahawk with which to hack + off my head. They were so eager for the prize that they got in one + another's way. In the confusion, I avoided several hacks by throwing + myself right and left on the sand. + </p> + <p> + Then Otoo arrived—Otoo the manhandler. In some way he had got hold + of a heavy war club, and at close quarters it was a far more efficient + weapon than a rifle. He was right in the thick of them, so that they could + not spear him, while their tomahawks seemed worse than useless. He was + fighting for me, and he was in a true Berserker rage. The way he handled + that club was amazing. + </p> + <p> + Their skulls squashed like overripe oranges. It was not until he had + driven them back, picked me up in his arms, and started to run, that he + received his first wounds. He arrived in the boat with four spear thrusts, + got his Winchester, and with it got a man for every shot. Then we pulled + aboard the schooner, and doctored up. + </p> + <p> + Seventeen years we were together. He made me. I should today be a + supercargo, a recruiter, or a memory, if it had not been for him. + </p> + <p> + “You spend your money, and you go out and get more,” he said one day. “It + is easy to get money now. But when you get old, your money will be spent, + and you will not be able to go out and get more. I know, master. I have + studied the way of white men. On the beaches are many old men who were + young once, and who could get money just like you. Now they are old, and + they have nothing, and they wait about for the young men like you to come + ashore and buy drinks for them. + </p> + <p> + “The black boy is a slave on the plantations. He gets twenty dollars a + year. He works hard. The overseer does not work hard. He rides a horse and + watches the black boy work. He gets twelve hundred dollars a year. I am a + sailor on the schooner. I get fifteen dollars a month. That is because I + am a good sailor. I work hard. The captain has a double awning, and drinks + beer out of long bottles. I have never seen him haul a rope or pull an + oar. He gets one hundred and fifty dollars a month. I am a sailor. He is a + navigator. Master, I think it would be very good for you to know + navigation.” + </p> + <p> + Otoo spurred me on to it. He sailed with me as second mate on my first + schooner, and he was far prouder of my command than I was myself. Later on + it was: + </p> + <p> + “The captain is well paid, master; but the ship is in his keeping, and he + is never free from the burden. It is the owner who is better paid—the + owner who sits ashore with many servants and turns his money over.” + </p> + <p> + “True, but a schooner costs five thousand dollars—an old schooner at + that,” I objected. “I should be an old man before I saved five thousand + dollars.” + </p> + <p> + “There be short ways for white men to make money,” he went on, pointing + ashore at the cocoanut-fringed beach. + </p> + <p> + We were in the Solomons at the time, picking up a cargo of ivory nuts + along the east coast of Guadalcanar. + </p> + <p> + “Between this river mouth and the next it is two miles,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “The flat land runs far back. It is worth nothing now. Next year—who + knows?—or the year after, men will pay much money for that land. The + anchorage is good. Big steamers can lie close up. You can buy the land + four miles deep from the old chief for ten thousand sticks of tobacco, ten + bottles of square-face, and a Snider, which will cost you, maybe, one + hundred dollars. Then you place the deed with the commissioner; and the + next year, or the year after, you sell and become the owner of a ship.” + </p> + <p> + I followed his lead, and his words came true, though in three years, + instead of two. Next came the grasslands deal on Guadalcanar—twenty + thousand acres, on a governmental nine hundred and ninety-nine years' + lease at a nominal sum. I owned the lease for precisely ninety days, when + I sold it to a company for half a fortune. Always it was Otoo who looked + ahead and saw the opportunity. He was responsible for the salving of the + Doncaster—bought in at auction for a hundred pounds, and clearing + three thousand after every expense was paid. He led me into the Savaii + plantation and the cocoa venture on Upolu. + </p> + <p> + We did not go seafaring so much as in the old days. I was too well off. I + married, and my standard of living rose; but Otoo remained the same + old-time Otoo, moving about the house or trailing through the office, his + wooden pipe in his mouth, a shilling undershirt on his back, and a + four-shilling lava-lava about his loins. I could not get him to spend + money. There was no way of repaying him except with love, and God knows he + got that in full measure from all of us. The children worshipped him; and + if he had been spoilable, my wife would surely have been his undoing. + </p> + <p> + The children! He really was the one who showed them the way of their feet + in the world practical. He began by teaching them to walk. He sat up with + them when they were sick. One by one, when they were scarcely toddlers, he + took them down to the lagoon, and made them into amphibians. He taught + them more than I ever knew of the habits of fish and the ways of catching + them. In the bush it was the same thing. At seven, Tom knew more woodcraft + than I ever dreamed existed. At six, Mary went over the Sliding Rock + without a quiver, and I have seen strong men balk at that feat. And when + Frank had just turned six he could bring up shillings from the bottom in + three fathoms. + </p> + <p> + “My people in Bora Bora do not like heathen—they are all Christians; + and I do not like Bora Bora Christians,” he said one day, when I, with the + idea of getting him to spend some of the money that was rightfully his, + had been trying to persuade him to make a visit to his own island in one + of our schooners—a special voyage which I had hoped to make a record + breaker in the matter of prodigal expense. + </p> + <p> + I say one of OUR schooners, though legally at the time they belonged to + me. I struggled long with him to enter into partnership. + </p> + <p> + “We have been partners from the day the Petite Jeanne went down,” he said + at last. “But if your heart so wishes, then shall we become partners by + the law. I have no work to do, yet are my expenses large. I drink and eat + and smoke in plenty—it costs much, I know. I do not pay for the + playing of billiards, for I play on your table; but still the money goes. + Fishing on the reef is only a rich man's pleasure. It is shocking, the + cost of hooks and cotton line. Yes; it is necessary that we be partners by + the law. I need the money. I shall get it from the head clerk in the + office.” + </p> + <p> + So the papers were made out and recorded. A year later I was compelled to + complain. + </p> + <p> + “Charley,” said I, “you are a wicked old fraud, a miserly skinflint, a + miserable land crab. Behold, your share for the year in all our + partnership has been thousands of dollars. The head clerk has given me + this paper. It says that in the year you have drawn just eighty-seven + dollars and twenty cents.” + </p> + <p> + “Is there any owing me?” he asked anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you thousands and thousands,” I answered. + </p> + <p> + His face brightened, as with an immense relief. + </p> + <p> + “It is well,” he said. “See that the head clerk keeps good account of it. + When I want it, I shall want it, and there must not be a cent missing. + </p> + <p> + “If there is,” he added fiercely, after a pause, “it must come out of the + clerk's wages.” + </p> + <p> + And all the time, as I afterwards learned, his will, drawn up by + Carruthers, and making me sole beneficiary, lay in the American consul's + safe. + </p> + <p> + But the end came, as the end must come to all human associations. + </p> + <p> + It occurred in the Solomons, where our wildest work had been done in the + wild young days, and where we were once more—principally on a + holiday, incidentally to look after our holdings on Florida Island and to + look over the pearling possibilities of the Mboli Pass. We were lying at + Savo, having run in to trade for curios. + </p> + <p> + Now, Savo is alive with sharks. The custom of the woolly-heads of burying + their dead in the sea did not tend to discourage the sharks from making + the adjacent waters a hangout. It was my luck to be coming aboard in a + tiny, overloaded, native canoe, when the thing capsized. There were four + woolly-heads and myself in it, or rather, hanging to it. The schooner was + a hundred yards away. + </p> + <p> + I was just hailing for a boat when one of the woolly-heads began to + scream. Holding on to the end of the canoe, both he and that portion of + the canoe were dragged under several times. Then he loosed his clutch and + disappeared. A shark had got him. + </p> + <p> + The three remaining niggers tried to climb out of the water upon the + bottom of the canoe. I yelled and cursed and struck at the nearest with my + fist, but it was no use. They were in a blind funk. The canoe could barely + have supported one of them. Under the three it upended and rolled + sidewise, throwing them back into the water. + </p> + <p> + I abandoned the canoe and started to swim toward the schooner, expecting + to be picked up by the boat before I got there. One of the niggers elected + to come with me, and we swam along silently, side by side, now and again + putting our faces into the water and peering about for sharks. The screams + of the man who stayed by the canoe informed us that he was taken. I was + peering into the water when I saw a big shark pass directly beneath me. He + was fully sixteen feet in length. I saw the whole thing. He got the + woolly-head by the middle, and away he went, the poor devil, head, + shoulders, and arms out of the water all the time, screeching in a + heart-rending way. He was carried along in this fashion for several + hundred feet, when he was dragged beneath the surface. + </p> + <p> + I swam doggedly on, hoping that that was the last unattached shark. But + there was another. Whether it was one that had attacked the natives + earlier, or whether it was one that had made a good meal elsewhere, I do + not know. At any rate, he was not in such haste as the others. I could not + swim so rapidly now, for a large part of my effort was devoted to keeping + track of him. I was watching him when he made his first attack. By good + luck I got both hands on his nose, and, though his momentum nearly shoved + me under, I managed to keep him off. He veered clear, and began circling + about again. A second time I escaped him by the same manoeuvre. The third + rush was a miss on both sides. He sheered at the moment my hands should + have landed on his nose, but his sandpaper hide (I had on a sleeveless + undershirt) scraped the skin off one arm from elbow to shoulder. + </p> + <p> + By this time I was played out, and gave up hope. The schooner was still + two hundred feet away. My face was in the water, and I was watching him + manoeuvre for another attempt, when I saw a brown body pass between us. It + was Otoo. + </p> + <p> + “Swim for the schooner, master!” he said. And he spoke gayly, as though + the affair was a mere lark. “I know sharks. The shark is my brother.” + </p> + <p> + I obeyed, swimming slowly on, while Otoo swam about me, keeping always + between me and the shark, foiling his rushes and encouraging me. + </p> + <p> + “The davit tackle carried away, and they are rigging the falls,” he + explained, a minute or so later, and then went under to head off another + attack. + </p> + <p> + By the time the schooner was thirty feet away I was about done for. I + could scarcely move. They were heaving lines at us from on board, but they + continually fell short. The shark, finding that it was receiving no hurt, + had become bolder. Several times it nearly got me, but each time Otoo was + there just the moment before it was too late. Of course, Otoo could have + saved himself any time. But he stuck by me. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, Charley! I'm finished!” I just managed to gasp. + </p> + <p> + I knew that the end had come, and that the next moment I should throw up + my hands and go down. + </p> + <p> + But Otoo laughed in my face, saying: + </p> + <p> + “I will show you a new trick. I will make that shark feel sick!” + </p> + <p> + He dropped in behind me, where the shark was preparing to come at me. + </p> + <p> + “A little more to the left!” he next called out. “There is a line there on + the water. To the left, master—to the left!” + </p> + <p> + I changed my course and struck out blindly. I was by that time barely + conscious. As my hand closed on the line I heard an exclamation from on + board. I turned and looked. There was no sign of Otoo. The next instant he + broke surface. Both hands were off at the wrist, the stumps spouting + blood. + </p> + <p> + “Otoo!” he called softly. And I could see in his gaze the love that + thrilled in his voice. + </p> + <p> + Then, and then only, at the very last of all our years, he called me by + that name. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, Otoo!” he called. + </p> + <p> + Then he was dragged under, and I was hauled aboard, where I fainted in the + captain's arms. + </p> + <p> + And so passed Otoo, who saved me and made me a man, and who saved me in + the end. We met in the maw of a hurricane, and parted in the maw of a + shark, with seventeen intervening years of comradeship, the like of which + I dare to assert has never befallen two men, the one brown and the other + white. If Jehovah be from His high place watching every sparrow fall, not + least in His kingdom shall be Otoo, the one heathen of Bora Bora. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE TERRIBLE SOLOMONS + </h2> + <p> + There is no gainsaying that the Solomons are a hard-bitten bunch of + islands. On the other hand, there are worse places in the world. But to + the new chum who has no constitutional understanding of men and life in + the rough, the Solomons may indeed prove terrible. + </p> + <p> + It is true that fever and dysentery are perpetually on the walk-about, + that loathsome skin diseases abound, that the air is saturated with a + poison that bites into every pore, cut, or abrasion and plants malignant + ulcers, and that many strong men who escape dying there return as wrecks + to their own countries. It is also true that the natives of the Solomons + are a wild lot, with a hearty appetite for human flesh and a fad for + collecting human heads. Their highest instinct of sportsmanship is to + catch a man with his back turned and to smite him a cunning blow with a + tomahawk that severs the spinal column at the base of the brain. It is + equally true that on some islands, such as Malaita, the profit and loss + account of social intercourse is calculated in homicides. Heads are a + medium of exchange, and white heads are extremely valuable. Very often a + dozen villages make a jack-pot, which they fatten moon by moon, against + the time when some brave warrior presents a white man's head, fresh and + gory, and claims the pot. + </p> + <p> + All the foregoing is quite true, and yet there are white men who have + lived in the Solomons a score of years and who feel homesick when they go + away from them. A man needs only to be careful—and lucky—to + live a long time in the Solomons; but he must also be of the right sort. + He must have the hallmark of the inevitable white man stamped upon his + soul. He must be inevitable. He must have a certain grand carelessness of + odds, a certain colossal self-satisfaction, and a racial egotism that + convinces him that one white is better than a thousand niggers every day + in the week, and that on Sunday he is able to clean out two thousand + niggers. For such are the things that have made the white man inevitable. + Oh, and one other thing—the white man who wishes to be inevitable, + must not merely despise the lesser breeds and think a lot of himself; he + must also fail to be too long on imagination. He must not understand too + well the instincts, customs, and mental processes of the blacks, the + yellows, and the browns; for it is not in such fashion that the white race + has tramped its royal road around the world. + </p> + <p> + Bertie Arkwright was not inevitable. He was too sensitive, too finely + strung, and he possessed too much imagination. The world was too much with + him. He projected himself too quiveringly into his environment. Therefore, + the last place in the world for him to come was the Solomons. He did not + come, expecting to stay. A five weeks' stop-over between steamers, he + decided, would satisfy the call of the primitive he felt thrumming the + strings of his being. At least, so he told the lady tourists on the + MAKEMBO, though in different terms; and they worshipped him as a hero, for + they were lady tourists and they would know only the safety of the + steamer's deck as she threaded her way through the Solomons. + </p> + <p> + There was another man on board, of whom the ladies took no notice. He was + a little shriveled wisp of a man, with a withered skin the color of + mahogany. His name on the passenger list does not matter, but his other + name, Captain Malu, was a name for niggers to conjure with, and to scare + naughty pickaninnies to righteousness from New Hanover to the New + Hebrides. He had farmed savages and savagery, and from fever and hardship, + the crack of Sniders and the lash of the overseers, had wrested five + millions of money in the form of bêche-de-mer, sandalwood, pearl-shell and + turtle-shell, ivory nuts and copra, grasslands, trading stations, and + plantations. Captain Malu's little finger, which was broken, had more + inevitableness in it than Bertie Arkwright's whole carcass. But then, the + lady tourists had nothing by which to judge save appearances, and Bertie + certainly was a fine-looking man. + </p> + <p> + Bertie talked with Captain Malu in the smoking room, confiding to him his + intention of seeing life red and bleeding in the Solomons. Captain Malu + agreed that the intention was ambitious and honorable. It was not until + several days later that he became interested in Bertie, when that young + adventurer insisted on showing him an automatic 44-caliber pistol. Bertie + explained the mechanism and demonstrated by slipping a loaded magazine up + the hollow butt. + </p> + <p> + “It is so simple,” he said. He shot the outer barrel back along the inner + one. “That loads it and cocks it, you see. And then all I have to do is + pull the trigger, eight times, as fast as I can quiver my finger. See that + safety clutch. That's what I like about it. It is safe. It is positively + fool-proof.” He slipped out the magazine. “You see how safe it is.” + </p> + <p> + As he held it in his hand, the muzzle came in line with Captain Malu's + stomach. Captain Malu's blue eyes looked at it unswervingly. + </p> + <p> + “Would you mind pointing it in some other direction?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “It's perfectly safe,” Bertie assured him. “I withdrew the magazine. It's + not loaded now, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “A gun is always loaded.” + </p> + <p> + “But this one isn't.” + </p> + <p> + “Turn it away just the same.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Malu's voice was flat and metallic and low, but his eyes never + left the muzzle until the line of it was drawn past him and away from him. + </p> + <p> + “I'll bet a fiver it isn't loaded,” Bertie proposed warmly. + </p> + <p> + The other shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Then I'll show you.” + </p> + <p> + Bertie started to put the muzzle to his own temple with the evident + intention of pulling the trigger. + </p> + <p> + “Just a second,” Captain Malu said quietly, reaching out his hand. “Let me + look at it.” + </p> + <p> + He pointed it seaward and pulled the trigger. A heavy explosion followed, + instantaneous with the sharp click of the mechanism that flipped a hot and + smoking cartridge sidewise along the deck. + </p> + <p> + Bertie's jaw dropped in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “I slipped the barrel back once, didn't I?” he explained. “It was silly of + me, I must say.” + </p> + <p> + He giggled flabbily, and sat down in a steamer chair. The blood had ebbed + from his face, exposing dark circles under his eyes. His hands were + trembling and unable to guide the shaking cigarette to his lips. The world + was too much with him, and he saw himself with dripping brains prone upon + the deck. + </p> + <p> + “Really,” he said, “... really.” + </p> + <p> + “It's a pretty weapon,” said Captain Malu, returning the automatic to him. + </p> + <p> + The Commissioner was on board the Makembo, returning from Sydney, and by + his permission a stop was made at Ugi to land a missionary. And at Ugi lay + the ketch ARLA, Captain Hansen, skipper. Now the Arla was one of many + vessels owned by Captain Malu, and it was at his suggestion and by his + invitation that Bertie went aboard the Arla as guest for a four days' + recruiting cruise on the coast of Malaita. Thereafter the ARLA would drop + him at Reminge Plantation (also owned by Captain Malu), where Bertie could + remain for a week, and then be sent over to Tulagi, the seat of + government, where he would become the Commissioner's guest. Captain Malu + was responsible for two other suggestions, which given, he disappears from + this narrative. One was to Captain Hansen, the other to Mr. Harriwell, + manager of Reminge Plantation. Both suggestions were similar in tenor, + namely, to give Mr. Bertram Arkwright an insight into the rawness and + redness of life in the Solomons. Also, it is whispered that Captain Malu + mentioned that a case of Scotch would be coincidental with any + particularly gorgeous insight Mr. Arkwright might receive............. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Swartz always was too pig-headed. You see, he took four of his + boat's crew to Tulagi to be flogged—officially, you know—then + started back with them in the whaleboat. It was pretty squally, and the + boat capsized just outside. Swartz was the only one drowned. Of course, it + was an accident.” + </p> + <p> + “Was it? Really?” Bertie asked, only half-interested, staring hard at the + black man at the wheel. + </p> + <p> + Ugi had dropped astern, and the ARLA was sliding along through a summer + sea toward the wooded ranges of Malaita. The helmsman who so attracted + Bertie's eyes sported a ten penny nail, stuck skewerwise through his nose. + About his neck was a string of pants buttons. Thrust through holes in his + ears were a can opener, the broken handle of a toothbrush, a clay pipe, + the brass wheel of an alarm clock, and several Winchester rifle + cartridges. + </p> + <p> + On his chest, suspended from around his neck hung the half of a china + plate. Some forty similarly appareled blacks lay about the deck, fifteen + of which were boat's crew, the remainder being fresh labor recruits. + </p> + <p> + “Of course it was an accident,” spoke up the ARLA'S mate, Jacobs, a + slender, dark-eyed man who looked more a professor than a sailor. “Johnny + Bedip nearly had the same kind of accident. He was bringing back several + from a flogging, when they capsized him. But he knew how to swim as well + as they, and two of them were drowned. He used a boat stretcher and a + revolver. Of course it was an accident.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite common, them accidents,” remarked the skipper. “You see that man at + the wheel, Mr. Arkwright? He's a man eater. Six months ago, he and the + rest of the boat's crew drowned the then captain of the ARLA. They did it + on deck, sir, right aft there by the mizzen-traveler.” + </p> + <p> + “The deck was in a shocking state,” said the mate. + </p> + <p> + “Do I understand—?” Bertie began. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, just that,” said Captain Hansen. “It was an accidental drowning.” + </p> + <p> + “But on deck—?” + </p> + <p> + “Just so. I don't mind telling you, in confidence, of course, that they + used an axe.” + </p> + <p> + “This present crew of yours?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Hansen nodded. + </p> + <p> + “The other skipper always was too careless,” explained the mate. “He but + just turned his back, when they let him have it.” + </p> + <p> + “We haven't any show down here,” was the skipper's complaint. “The + government protects a nigger against a white every time. You can't shoot + first. You've got to give the nigger first shot, or else the government + calls it murder and you go to Fiji. That's why there's so many drowning + accidents.” + </p> + <p> + Dinner was called, and Bertie and the skipper went below, leaving the mate + to watch on deck. + </p> + <p> + “Keep an eye out for that black devil, Auiki,” was the skipper's parting + caution. “I haven't liked his looks for several days.” + </p> + <p> + “Right O,” said the mate. + </p> + <p> + Dinner was part way along, and the skipper was in the middle of his story + of the cutting out of the Scottish Chiefs. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he was saying, “she was the finest vessel on the coast. But when + she missed stays, and before ever she hit the reef, the canoes started for + her. There were five white men, a crew of twenty Santa Cruz boys and + Samoans, and only the supercargo escaped. Besides, there were sixty + recruits. They were all kai-kai'd. Kai-kai?—oh, I beg your pardon. I + mean they were eaten. Then there was the James Edwards, a dandy-rigged—” + </p> + <p> + But at that moment there was a sharp oath from the mate on deck and a + chorus of savage cries. A revolver went off three times, and then was + heard a loud splash. Captain Hansen had sprung up the companionway on the + instant, and Bertie's eyes had been fascinated by a glimpse of him drawing + his revolver as he sprang. + </p> + <p> + Bertie went up more circumspectly, hesitating before he put his head above + the companionway slide. But nothing happened. The mate was shaking with + excitement, his revolver in his hand. Once he startled, and half-jumped + around, as if danger threatened his back. + </p> + <p> + “One of the natives fell overboard,” he was saying, in a queer tense + voice. “He couldn't swim.” + </p> + <p> + “Who was it?” the skipper demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Auiki,” was the answer. + </p> + <p> + “But I say, you know, I heard shots,” Bertie said, in trembling eagerness, + for he scented adventure, and adventure that was happily over with. + </p> + <p> + The mate whirled upon him, snarling: + </p> + <p> + “It's a damned lie. There ain't been a shot fired. The nigger fell + overboard.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Hansen regarded Bertie with unblinking, lack-luster eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I—I thought—” Bertie was beginning. + </p> + <p> + “Shots?” said Captain Hansen, dreamily. “Shots? Did you hear any shots, + Mr. Jacobs?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a shot,” replied Mr. Jacobs. + </p> + <p> + The skipper looked at his guest triumphantly, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Evidently an accident. Let us go down, Mr. Arkwright, and finish dinner.” + </p> + <p> + Bertie slept that night in the captain's cabin, a tiny stateroom off the + main cabin. The for'ard bulkhead was decorated with a stand of rifles. + Over the bunk were three more rifles. Under the bunk was a big drawer, + which, when he pulled it out, he found filled with ammunition, dynamite, + and several boxes of detonators. He elected to take the settee on the + opposite side. Lying conspicuously on the small table, was the Arla's log. + Bertie did not know that it had been especially prepared for the occasion + by Captain Malu, and he read therein how on September 21, two boat's crew + had fallen overboard and been drowned. Bertie read between the lines and + knew better. He read how the Arla's whale boat had been bushwhacked at + Su'u and had lost three men; of how the skipper discovered the cook + stewing human flesh on the galley fire—flesh purchased by the boat's + crew ashore in Fui; of how an accidental discharge of dynamite, while + signaling, had killed another boat's crew; of night attacks; ports fled + from between the dawns; attacks by bushmen in mangrove swamps and by + fleets of salt-water men in the larger passages. One item that occurred + with monotonous frequency was death by dysentery. He noticed with alarm + that two white men had so died—guests, like himself, on the Arla. + </p> + <p> + “I say, you know,” Bertie said next day to Captain Hansen. “I've been + glancing through your log.” + </p> + <p> + The skipper displayed quick vexation that the log had been left lying + about. + </p> + <p> + “And all that dysentery, you know, that's all rot, just like the + accidental drownings,” Bertie continued. “What does dysentery really stand + for?” + </p> + <p> + The skipper openly admired his guest's acumen, stiffened himself to make + indignant denial, then gracefully surrendered. + </p> + <p> + “You see, it's like this, Mr. Arkwright. These islands have got a bad + enough name as it is. It's getting harder every day to sign on white men. + Suppose a man is killed. The company has to pay through the nose for + another man to take the job. But if the man merely dies of sickness, it's + all right. The new chums don't mind disease. What they draw the line at is + being murdered. I thought the skipper of the Arla had died of dysentery + when I took his billet. Then it was too late. I'd signed the contract.” + </p> + <p> + “Besides,” said Mr. Jacobs, “there's altogether too many accidental + drownings anyway. It don't look right. It's the fault of the government. A + white man hasn't a chance to defend himself from the niggers.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, look at the Princess and that Yankee mate,” the skipper took up the + tale. “She carried five white men besides a government agent. The captain, + the agent, and the supercargo were ashore in the two boats. They were + killed to the last man. The mate and boson, with about fifteen of the crew—Samoans + and Tongans—were on board. A crowd of niggers came off from shore. + First thing the mate knew, the boson and the crew were killed in the first + rush. The mate grabbed three cartridge belts and two Winchesters and + skinned up to the cross-trees. He was the sole survivor, and you can't + blame him for being mad. He pumped one rifle till it got so hot he + couldn't hold it, then he pumped the other. The deck was black with + niggers. He cleaned them out. He dropped them as they went over the rail, + and he dropped them as fast as they picked up their paddles. Then they + jumped into the water and started to swim for it, and being mad, he got + half a dozen more. And what did he get for it?” + </p> + <p> + “Seven years in Fiji,” snapped the mate. + </p> + <p> + “The government said he wasn't justified in shooting after they'd taken to + the water,” the skipper explained. + </p> + <p> + “And that's why they die of dysentery nowadays,” the mate added. + </p> + <p> + “Just fancy,” said Bertie, as he felt a longing for the cruise to be over. + </p> + <p> + Later on in the day he interviewed the black who had been pointed out to + him as a cannibal. This fellow's name was Sumasai. He had spent three + years on a Queensland plantation. He had been to Samoa, and Fiji, and + Sydney; and as a boat's crew had been on recruiting schooners through New + Britain, New Ireland, New Guinea, and the Admiralties. Also, he was a wag, + and he had taken a line on his skipper's conduct. Yes, he had eaten many + men. How many? He could not remember the tally. Yes, white men, too; they + were very good, unless they were sick. He had once eaten a sick one. + </p> + <p> + “My word!” he cried, at the recollection. “Me sick plenty along him. My + belly walk about too much.” + </p> + <p> + Bertie shuddered, and asked about heads. Yes, Sumasai had several hidden + ashore, in good condition, sun-dried, and smoke-cured. One was of the + captain of a schooner. It had long whiskers. He would sell it for two + quid. Black men's heads he would sell for one quid. He had some pickaninny + heads, in poor condition, that he would let go for ten bob. + </p> + <p> + Five minutes afterward, Bertie found himself sitting on the + companionway-slide alongside a black with a horrible skin disease. He + sheered off, and on inquiry was told that it was leprosy. He hurried below + and washed himself with antiseptic soap. He took many antiseptic washes in + the course of the day, for every native on board was afflicted with + malignant ulcers of one sort or another. + </p> + <p> + As the Arla drew in to an anchorage in the midst of mangrove swamps, a + double row of barbed wire was stretched around above her rail. That looked + like business, and when Bertie saw the shore canoes alongside, armed with + spears, bows and arrows, and Sniders, he wished more earnestly than ever + that the cruise was over. + </p> + <p> + That evening the natives were slow in leaving the ship at sundown. A + number of them checked the mate when he ordered them ashore. “Never mind, + I'll fix them,” said Captain Hansen, diving below. + </p> + <p> + When he came back, he showed Bertie a stick of dynamite attached to a fish + hook. Now it happens that a paper-wrapped bottle of chlorodyne with a + piece of harmless fuse projecting can fool anybody. It fooled Bertie, and + it fooled the natives. When Captain Hansen lighted the fuse and hooked the + fish hook into the tail end of a native's loin cloth, that native was + smitten with so an ardent a desire for the shore that he forgot to shed + the loin cloth. He started for'ard, the fuse sizzling and spluttering at + his rear, the natives in his path taking headers over the barbed wire at + every jump. Bertie was horror-stricken. So was Captain Hansen. He had + forgotten his twenty-five recruits, on each of which he had paid thirty + shillings advance. They went over the side along with the shore-dwelling + folk and followed by him who trailed the sizzling chlorodyne bottle. + </p> + <p> + Bertie did not see the bottle go off; but the mate opportunely discharging + a stick of real dynamite aft where it would harm nobody, Bertie would have + sworn in any admiralty court to a nigger blown to flinders. The flight of + the twenty-five recruits had actually cost the Arla forty pounds, and, + since they had taken to the bush, there was no hope of recovering them. + The skipper and his mate proceeded to drown their sorrow in cold tea. + </p> + <p> + The cold tea was in whiskey bottles, so Bertie did not know it was cold + tea they were mopping up. All he knew was that the two men got very drunk + and argued eloquently and at length as to whether the exploded nigger + should be reported as a case of dysentery or as an accidental drowning. + When they snored off to sleep, he was the only white man left, and he kept + a perilous watch till dawn, in fear of an attack from shore and an + uprising of the crew. + </p> + <p> + Three more days the Arla spent on the coast, and three more nights the + skipper and the mate drank overfondly of cold tea, leaving Bertie to keep + the watch. They knew he could be depended upon, while he was equally + certain that if he lived, he would report their drunken conduct to Captain + Malu. Then the Arla dropped anchor at Reminge Plantation, on Guadalcanar, + and Bertie landed on the beach with a sigh of relief and shook hands with + the manager. Mr. Harriwell was ready for him. + </p> + <p> + “Now you mustn't be alarmed if some of our fellows seem downcast,” Mr. + Harriwell said, having drawn him aside in confidence. “There's been talk + of an outbreak, and two or three suspicious signs I'm willing to admit, + but personally I think it's all poppycock.” + </p> + <p> + “How—how many blacks have you on the plantation?” Bertie asked, with + a sinking heart. + </p> + <p> + “We're working four hundred just now,” replied Mr. Harriwell, cheerfully; + “but the three of us, with you, of course, and the skipper and mate of the + Arla, can handle them all right.” + </p> + <p> + Bertie turned to meet one McTavish, the storekeeper, who scarcely + acknowledged the introduction, such was his eagerness to present his + resignation. + </p> + <p> + “It being that I'm a married man, Mr. Harriwell, I can't very well afford + to remain on longer. Trouble is working up, as plain as the nose on your + face. The niggers are going to break out, and there'll be another Hohono + horror here.” + </p> + <p> + “What's a Hohono horror?” Bertie asked, after the storekeeper had been + persuaded to remain until the end of the month. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he means Hohono Plantation, on Ysabel,” said the manager. “The + niggers killed the five white men ashore, captured the schooner, killed + the captain and mate, and escaped in a body to Malaita. But I always said + they were careless on Hohono. They won't catch us napping here. Come + along, Mr. Arkwright, and see our view from the veranda.” + </p> + <p> + Bertie was too busy wondering how he could get away to Tulagi to the + Commissioner's house, to see much of the view. He was still wondering, + when a rifle exploded very near to him, behind his back. At the same + moment his arm was nearly dislocated, so eagerly did Mr. Harriwell drag + him indoors. + </p> + <p> + “I say, old man, that was a close shave,” said the manager, pawing him + over to see if he had been hit. “I can't tell you how sorry I am. But it + was broad daylight, and I never dreamed.” + </p> + <p> + Bertie was beginning to turn pale. + </p> + <p> + “They got the other manager that way,” McTavish vouchsafed. “And a dashed + fine chap he was. Blew his brains out all over the veranda. You noticed + that dark stain there between the steps and the door?” + </p> + <p> + Bertie was ripe for the cocktail which Mr. Harriwell pitched in and + compounded for him; but before he could drink it, a man in riding trousers + and puttees entered. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter now?” the manager asked, after one look at the + newcomer's face. “Is the river up again?” + </p> + <p> + “River be blowed—it's the niggers. Stepped out of the cane grass, + not a dozen feet away, and whopped at me. It was a Snider, and he shot + from the hip. Now what I want to know is where'd he get that Snider?—Oh, + I beg pardon. Glad to know you, Mr. Arkwright.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Brown is my assistant,” explained Mr. Harriwell. “And now let's have + that drink.” + </p> + <p> + “But where'd he get that Snider?” Mr. Brown insisted. “I always objected + to keeping those guns on the premises.” + </p> + <p> + “They're still there,” Mr. Harriwell said, with a show of heat. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Brown smiled incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “Come along and see,” said the manager. + </p> + <p> + Bertie joined the procession into the office, where Mr. Harriwell pointed + triumphantly at a big packing case in a dusty corner. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then where did the beggar get that Snider?” harped Mr. Brown. + </p> + <p> + But just then McTavish lifted the packing case. The manager started, then + tore off the lid. The case was empty. They gazed at one another in + horrified silence. Harriwell drooped wearily. + </p> + <p> + Then McVeigh cursed. + </p> + <p> + “What I contended all along—the house-boys are not to be trusted.” + </p> + <p> + “It does look serious,” Harriwell admitted, “but we'll come through it all + right. What the sanguinary niggers need is a shaking up. Will you + gentlemen please bring your rifles to dinner, and will you, Mr. Brown, + kindly prepare forty or fifty sticks of dynamite. Make the fuses good and + short. We'll give them a lesson. And now, gentlemen, dinner is served.” + </p> + <p> + One thing that Bertie detested was rice and curry, so it happened that he + alone partook of an inviting omelet. He had quite finished his plate, when + Harriwell helped himself to the omelet. One mouthful he tasted, then spat + out vociferously. + </p> + <p> + “That's the second time,” McTavish announced ominously. + </p> + <p> + Harriwell was still hawking and spitting. + </p> + <p> + “Second time, what?” Bertie quavered. + </p> + <p> + “Poison,” was the answer. “That cook will be hanged yet.” + </p> + <p> + “That's the way the bookkeeper went out at Cape March,” Brown spoke up. + “Died horribly. They said on the Jessie that they heard him screaming + three miles away.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll put the cook in irons,” sputtered Harriwell. “Fortunately we + discovered it in time.” + </p> + <p> + Bertie sat paralyzed. There was no color in his face. He attempted to + speak, but only an inarticulate gurgle resulted. All eyed him anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “Don't say it, don't say it,” McTavish cried in a tense voice. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I ate it, plenty of it, a whole plateful!” Bertie cried explosively, + like a diver suddenly regaining breath. + </p> + <p> + The awful silence continued half a minute longer, and he read his fate in + their eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Maybe it wasn't poison after all,” said Harriwell, dismally. + </p> + <p> + “Call in the cook,” said Brown. + </p> + <p> + In came the cook, a grinning black boy, nose-spiked and ear-plugged. + </p> + <p> + “Here, you, Wi-wi, what name that?” Harriwell bellowed, pointing + accusingly at the omelet. + </p> + <p> + Wi-wi was very naturally frightened and embarrassed. + </p> + <p> + “Him good fella kai-kai,” he murmured apologetically. + </p> + <p> + “Make him eat it,” suggested McTavish. “That's a proper test.” + </p> + <p> + Harriwell filled a spoon with the stuff and jumped for the cook, who fled + in panic. + </p> + <p> + “That settles it,” was Brown's solemn pronouncement. “He won't eat it.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Brown, will you please go and put the irons on him?” Harriwell turned + cheerfully to Bertie. “It's all right, old man, the Commissioner will deal + with him, and if you die, depend upon it, he will be hanged.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't think the government'll do it,” objected McTavish. + </p> + <p> + “But gentlemen, gentlemen,” Bertie cried. “In the meantime think of me.” + </p> + <p> + Harriwell shrugged his shoulders pityingly. + </p> + <p> + “Sorry, old man, but it's a native poison, and there are no known + antidotes for native poisons. Try and compose yourself and if—” + </p> + <p> + Two sharp reports of a rifle from without, interrupted the discourse, and + Brown, entering, reloaded his rifle and sat down to table. + </p> + <p> + “The cook's dead,” he said. “Fever. A rather sudden attack.” + </p> + <p> + “I was just telling Mr. Arkwright that there are no antidotes for native + poisons—” + </p> + <p> + “Except gin,” said Brown. + </p> + <p> + Harriwell called himself an absent-minded idiot and rushed for the gin + bottle. + </p> + <p> + “Neat, man, neat,” he warned Bertie, who gulped down a tumbler two-thirds + full of the raw spirits, and coughed and choked from the angry bite of it + till the tears ran down his cheeks. + </p> + <p> + Harriwell took his pulse and temperature, made a show of looking out for + him, and doubted that the omelet had been poisoned. Brown and McTavish + also doubted; but Bertie discerned an insincere ring in their voices. His + appetite had left him, and he took his own pulse stealthily under the + table. There was no question but what it was increasing, but he failed to + ascribe it to the gin he had taken. McTavish, rifle in hand, went out on + the veranda to reconnoiter. + </p> + <p> + “They're massing up at the cook-house,” was his report. “And they've no + end of Sniders. My idea is to sneak around on the other side and take them + in flank. Strike the first blow, you know. Will you come along, Brown?” + </p> + <p> + Harriwell ate on steadily, while Bertie discovered that his pulse had + leaped up five beats. Nevertheless, he could not help jumping when the + rifles began to go off. Above the scattering of Sniders could be heard the + pumping of Brown's and McTavish's Winchesters—all against a + background of demoniacal screeching and yelling. + </p> + <p> + “They've got them on the run,” Harriwell remarked, as voices and gunshots + faded away in the distance. + </p> + <p> + Scarcely were Brown and McTavish back at the table when the latter + reconnoitered. + </p> + <p> + “They've got dynamite,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Then let's charge them with dynamite,” Harriwell proposed. + </p> + <p> + Thrusting half a dozen sticks each into their pockets and equipping + themselves with lighted cigars, they started for the door. And just then + it happened. They blamed McTavish for it afterward, and he admitted that + the charge had been a trifle excessive. But at any rate it went off under + the house, which lifted up cornerwise and settled back on its foundations. + Half the china on the table was shattered, while the eight-day clock + stopped. Yelling for vengeance, the three men rushed out into the night, + and the bombardment began. + </p> + <p> + When they returned, there was no Bertie. He had dragged himself away to + the office, barricaded himself in, and sunk upon the floor in a gin-soaked + nightmare, wherein he died a thousand deaths while the valorous fight went + on around him. In the morning, sick and headachey from the gin, he crawled + out to find the sun still in the sky and God presumable in heaven, for his + hosts were alive and uninjured. + </p> + <p> + Harriwell pressed him to stay on longer, but Bertie insisted on sailing + immediately on the Arla for Tulagi, where, until the following steamer + day, he stuck close by the Commissioner's house. There were lady tourists + on the outgoing steamer, and Bertie was again a hero, while Captain Malu, + as usual, passed unnoticed. But Captain Malu sent back from Sydney two + cases of the best Scotch whiskey on the market, for he was not able to + make up his mind as to whether it was Captain Hansen or Mr Harriwell who + had given Bertie Arkwright the more gorgeous insight into life in the + Solomons. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE INEVITABLE WHITE MAN + </h2> + <p> + “The black will never understand the white, nor the white the black, as + long as black is black and white is white.” + </p> + <p> + So said Captain Woodward. We sat in the parlor of Charley Roberts' pub in + Apia, drinking long Abu Hameds compounded and shared with us by the + aforesaid Charley Roberts, who claimed the recipe direct from Stevens, + famous for having invented the Abu Hamed at a time when he was spurred on + by Nile thirst—the Stevens who was responsible for “With Kitchener + to Kartoun,” and who passed out at the siege of Ladysmith. + </p> + <p> + Captain Woodward, short and squat, elderly, burned by forty years of + tropic sun, and with the most beautiful liquid brown eyes I ever saw in a + man, spoke from a vast experience. The crisscross of scars on his bald + pate bespoke a tomahawk intimacy with the black, and of equal intimacy was + the advertisement, front and rear, on the right side of his neck, where an + arrow had at one time entered and been pulled clean through. As he + explained, he had been in a hurry on that occasion—the arrow impeded + his running—and he felt that he could not take the time to break off + the head and pull out the shaft the way it had come in. At the present + moment he was commander of the SAVAII, the big steamer that recruited + labor from the westward for the German plantations on Samoa. + </p> + <p> + “Half the trouble is the stupidity of the whites,” said Roberts, pausing + to take a swig from his glass and to curse the Samoan bar-boy in + affectionate terms. “If the white man would lay himself out a bit to + understand the workings of the black man's mind, most of the messes would + be avoided.” + </p> + <p> + “I've seen a few who claimed they understood niggers,” Captain Woodward + retorted, “and I always took notice that they were the first to be + kai-kai'd (eaten). Look at the missionaries in New Guinea and the New + Hebrides—the martyr isle of Erromanga and all the rest. Look at the + Austrian expedition that was cut to pieces in the Solomons, in the bush of + Guadalcanar. And look at the traders themselves, with a score of years' + experience, making their brag that no nigger would ever get them, and + whose heads to this day are ornamenting the rafters of the canoe houses. + There was old Johnny Simons—twenty-six years on the raw edges of + Melanesia, swore he knew the niggers like a book and that they'd never do + for him, and he passed out at Marovo Lagoon, New Georgia, had his head + sawed off by a black Mary (woman) and an old nigger with only one leg, + having left the other leg in the mouth of a shark while diving for + dynamited fish. There was Billy Watts, horrible reputation as a nigger + killer, a man to scare the devil. I remember lying at Cape Little, New + Ireland you know, when the niggers stole half a case of trade-tobacco—cost + him about three dollars and a half. In retaliation he turned out, shot six + niggers, smashed up their war canoes and burned two villages. And it was + at Cape Little, four years afterward, that he was jumped along with fifty + Buku boys he had with him fishing bêche-de-mer. In five minutes they were + all dead, with the exception of three boys who got away in a canoe. Don't + talk to me about understanding the nigger. The white man's mission is to + farm the world, and it's a big enough job cut out for him. What time has + he got left to understand niggers anyway?” + </p> + <p> + “Just so,” said Roberts. “And somehow it doesn't seem necessary, after + all, to understand the niggers. In direct proportion to the white man's + stupidity is his success in farming the world—” + </p> + <p> + “And putting the fear of God into the nigger's heart,” Captain Woodward + blurted out. “Perhaps you're right, Roberts. Perhaps it's his stupidity + that makes him succeed, and surely one phase of his stupidity is his + inability to understand the niggers. But there's one thing sure, the white + has to run the niggers whether he understands them or not. It's + inevitable. It's fate.” + </p> + <p> + “And of course the white man is inevitable—it's the niggers' fate,” + Roberts broke in. “Tell the white man there's pearl shell in some lagoon + infested by ten-thousand howling cannibals, and he'll head there all by + his lonely, with half a dozen kanaka divers and a tin alarm clock for + chronometer, all packed like sardines on a commodious, five-ton ketch. + Whisper that there's a gold strike at the North Pole, and that same + inevitable white-skinned creature will set out at once, armed with pick + and shovel, a side of bacon, and the latest patent rocker—and what's + more, he'll get there. Tip it off to him that there's diamonds on the + red-hot ramparts of hell, and Mr. White Man will storm the ramparts and + set old Satan himself to pick-and-shovel work. That's what comes of being + stupid and inevitable.” + </p> + <p> + “But I wonder what the black man must think of the—the + inevitableness,” I said. + </p> + <p> + Captain Woodward broke into quiet laughter. His eyes had a reminiscent + gleam. + </p> + <p> + “I'm just wondering what the niggers of Malu thought and still must be + thinking of the one inevitable white man we had on board when we visited + them in the DUCHESS,” he explained. + </p> + <p> + Roberts mixed three more Abu Hameds. + </p> + <p> + “That was twenty years ago. Saxtorph was his name. He was certainly the + most stupid man I ever saw, but he was as inevitable as death. There was + only one thing that chap could do, and that was shoot. I remember the + first time I ran into him—right here in Apia, twenty years ago. That + was before your time, Roberts. I was sleeping at Dutch Henry's hotel, down + where the market is now. Ever heard of him? He made a tidy stake smuggling + arms in to the rebels, sold out his hotel, and was killed in Sydney just + six weeks afterward in a saloon row. + </p> + <p> + “But Saxtorph. One night I'd just got to sleep, when a couple of cats + began to sing in the courtyard. It was out of bed and up window, water jug + in hand. But just then I heard the window of the next room go up. Two + shots were fired, and the window was closed. I fail to impress you with + the celerity of the transaction. Ten seconds at the outside. Up went the + window, bang bang went the revolver, and down went the window. Whoever it + was, he had never stopped to see the effect of his shots. He knew. Do you + follow me?—he KNEW. There was no more cat concert, and in the + morning there lay the two offenders, stone dead. It was marvelous to me. + It still is marvelous. First, it was starlight, and Saxtorph shot without + drawing a bead; next, he shot so rapidly that the two reports were like a + double report; and finally, he knew he had hit his marks without looking + to see. + </p> + <p> + “Two days afterward he came on board to see me. I was mate, then, on the + Duchess, a whacking big one-hundred-and fifty-ton schooner, a blackbirder. + And let me tell you that blackbirders were blackbirders in those days. + There weren't any government protection for US, either. It was rough work, + give and take, if we were finished, and nothing said, and we ran niggers + from every south sea island they didn't kick us off from. Well, Saxtorph + came on board, John Saxtorph was the name he gave. He was a sandy little + man, hair sandy, complexion sandy, and eyes sandy, too. Nothing striking + about him. His soul was as neutral as his color scheme. He said he was + strapped and wanted to ship on board. Would go cabin boy, cook, + supercargo, or common sailor. Didn't know anything about any of the + billets, but said that he was willing to learn. I didn't want him, but his + shooting had so impressed me that I took him as common sailor, wages three + pounds per month. + </p> + <p> + “He was willing to learn all right, I'll say that much. But he was + constitutionally unable to learn anything. He could no more box the + compass than I could mix drinks like Roberts here. And as for steering, he + gave me my first gray hairs. I never dared risk him at the wheel when we + were running in a big sea, while full-and-by and close-and-by were + insoluble mysteries. Couldn't ever tell the difference between a sheet and + a tackle, simply couldn't. The fore-throat-jig and the jib-jig were all + one to him. Tell him to slack off the mainsheet, and before you know it, + he'd drop the peak. He fell overboard three times, and he couldn't swim. + But he was always cheerful, never seasick, and he was the most willing man + I ever knew. He was an uncommunicative soul. Never talked about himself. + His history, so far as we were concerned, began the day he signed on the + DUCHESS. Where he learned to shoot, the stars alone can tell. He was a + Yankee—that much we knew from the twang in his speech. And that was + all we ever did know. + </p> + <p> + “And now we begin to get to the point. We had bad luck in the New + Hebrides, only fourteen boys for five weeks, and we ran up before the + southeast for the Solomons. Malaita, then as now, was good recruiting + ground, and we ran into Malu, on the northwestern corner. There's a shore + reef and an outer reef, and a mighty nervous anchorage; but we made it all + right and fired off our dynamite as a signal to the niggers to come down + and be recruited. In three days we got not a boy. The niggers came off to + us in their canoes by hundreds, but they only laughed when we showed them + beads and calico and hatchets and talked of the delights of plantation + work in Samoa. + </p> + <p> + “On the fourth day there came a change. Fifty-odd boys signed on and were + billeted in the main-hold, with the freedom of the deck, of course. And of + course, looking back, this wholesale signing on was suspicious, but at the + time we thought some powerful chief had removed the ban against + recruiting. The morning of the fifth day our two boats went ashore as + usual—one to cover the other, you know, in case of trouble. And, as + usual, the fifty niggers on board were on deck, loafing, talking, smoking, + and sleeping. Saxtorph and myself, along with four other sailors, were all + that were left on board. The two boats were manned with Gilbert Islanders. + In the one were the captain, the supercargo, and the recruiter. In the + other, which was the covering boat and which lay off shore a hundred + yards, was the second mate. Both boats were well-armed, though trouble was + little expected. + </p> + <p> + “Four of the sailors, including Saxtorph, were scraping the poop rail. The + fifth sailor, rifle in hand, was standing guard by the water-tank just + for'ard of the mainmast. I was for'ard, putting in the finishing licks on + a new jaw for the fore-gaff. I was just reaching for my pipe where I had + laid it down, when I heard a shot from shore. I straightened up to look. + Something struck me on the back of the head, partially stunning me and + knocking me to the deck. My first thought was that something had carried + away aloft; but even as I went down, and before I struck the deck, I heard + the devil's own tattoo of rifles from the boats, and twisting sidewise, I + caught a glimpse of the sailor who was standing guard. Two big niggers + were holding his arms, and a third nigger from behind was braining him + with a tomahawk. + </p> + <p> + “I can see it now, the water-tank, the mainmast, the gang hanging on to + him, the hatchet descending on the back of his head, and all under the + blazing sunlight. I was fascinated by that growing vision of death. The + tomahawk seemed to take a horribly long time to come down. I saw it land, + and the man's legs give under him as he crumpled. The niggers held him up + by sheer strength while he was hacked a couple of times more. Then I got + two more hacks on the head and decided that I was dead. So did the brute + that was hacking me. I was too helpless to move, and I lay there and + watched them removing the sentry's head. I must say they did it slick + enough. They were old hands at the business. + </p> + <p> + “The rifle firing from the boats had ceased, and I made no doubt that they + were finished off and that the end had come to everything. It was only a + matter of moments when they would return for my head. They were evidently + taking the heads from the sailors aft. Heads are valuable on Malaita, + especially white heads. They have the place of honor in the canoe houses + of the salt-water natives. What particular decorative effect the bushmen + get out of them I didn't know, but they prize them just as much as the + salt-water crowd. + </p> + <p> + “I had a dim notion of escaping, and I crawled on hands and knees to the + winch, where I managed to drag myself to my feet. From there I could look + aft and see three heads on top the cabin—the heads of three sailors + I had given orders to for months. The niggers saw me standing, and started + for me. I reached for my revolver, and found they had taken it. I can't + say that I was scared. I've been near to death several times, but it never + seemed easier than right then. I was half-stunned, and nothing seemed to + matter. + </p> + <p> + “The leading nigger had armed himself with a cleaver from the galley, and + he grimaced like an ape as he prepared to slice me down. But the slice was + never made. He went down on the deck all of a heap, and I saw the blood + gush from his mouth. In a dim way I heard a rifle go off and continue to + go off. Nigger after nigger went down. My senses began to clear, and I + noted that there was never a miss. Every time that the rifle went off a + nigger dropped. I sat down on deck beside the winch and looked up. Perched + in the crosstrees was Saxtorph. How he had managed it I can't imagine, for + he had carried up with him two Winchesters and I don't know how many + bandoliers of ammunition; and he was now doing the one only thing in this + world that he was fitted to do. + </p> + <p> + “I've seen shooting and slaughter, but I never saw anything like that. I + sat by the winch and watched the show. I was weak and faint, and it seemed + to be all a dream. Bang, bang, bang, bang, went his rifle, and thud, thud, + thud, thud, went the niggers to the deck. It was amazing to see them go + down. After their first rush to get me, when about a dozen had dropped, + they seemed paralyzed; but he never left off pumping his gun. By this time + canoes and the two boats arrived from shore, armed with Sniders, and with + Winchesters which they had captured in the boats. The fusillade they let + loose on Saxtorph was tremendous. Luckily for him the niggers are only + good at close range. They are not used to putting the gun to their + shoulders. They wait until they are right on top of a man, and then they + shoot from the hip. When his rifle got too hot, Saxtorph changed off. That + had been his idea when he carried two rifles up with him. + </p> + <p> + “The astounding thing was the rapidity of his fire. Also, he never made a + miss. If ever anything was inevitable, that man was. It was the swiftness + of it that made the slaughter so appalling. The niggers did not have time + to think. When they did manage to think, they went over the side in a + rush, capsizing the canoes of course. Saxtorph never let up. The water was + covered with them, and plump, plump, plump, he dropped his bullets into + them. Not a single miss, and I could hear distinctly the thud of every + bullet as it buried in human flesh. + </p> + <p> + “The niggers spread out and headed for the shore, swimming. The water was + carpeted with bobbing heads, and I stood up, as in a dream, and watched it + all—the bobbing heads and the heads that ceased to bob. Some of the + long shots were magnificent. Only one man reached the beach, but as he + stood up to wade ashore, Saxtorph got him. It was beautiful. And when a + couple of niggers ran down to drag him out of the water, Saxtorph got + them, too. + </p> + <p> + “I thought everything was over then, when I heard the rifle go off again. + A nigger had come out of the cabin companion on the run for the rail and + gone down in the middle of it. The cabin must have been full of them. I + counted twenty. They came up one at a time and jumped for the rail. But + they never got there. It reminded me of trapshooting. A black body would + pop out of the companion, bang would go Saxtorph's rifle, and down would + go the black body. Of course, those below did not know what was happening + on deck, so they continued to pop out until the last one was finished off. + </p> + <p> + “Saxtorph waited a while to make sure, and then came down on deck. He and + I were all that were left of the DUCHESS'S complement, and I was pretty + well to the bad, while he was helpless now that the shooting was over. + Under my direction he washed out my scalp wounds and sewed them up. A big + drink of whiskey braced me to make an effort to get out. There was nothing + else to do. All the rest were dead. We tried to get up sail, Saxtorph + hoisting and I holding the turn. He was once more the stupid lubber. He + couldn't hoist worth a cent, and when I fell in a faint, it looked all up + with us. + </p> + <p> + “When I came to, Saxtorph was sitting helplessly on the rail, waiting to + ask me what he should do. I told him to overhaul the wounded and see if + there were any able to crawl. He gathered together six. One, I remember, + had a broken leg; but Saxtorph said his arms were all right. I lay in the + shade, brushing the flies off and directing operations, while Saxtorph + bossed his hospital gang. I'll be blessed if he didn't make those poor + niggers heave at every rope on the pin-rails before he found the halyards. + One of them let go the rope in the midst of the hoisting and slipped down + to the deck dead; but Saxtorph hammered the others and made them stick by + the job. When the fore and main were up, I told him to knock the shackle + out of the anchor chain and let her go. I had had myself helped aft to the + wheel, where I was going to make a shift at steering. I can't guess how he + did it, but instead of knocking the shackle out, down went the second + anchor, and there we were doubly moored. + </p> + <p> + “In the end he managed to knock both shackles out and raise the staysail + and jib, and the Duchess filled away for the entrance. Our decks were a + spectacle. Dead and dying niggers were everywhere. They were wedged away + some of them in the most inconceivable places. The cabin was full of them + where they had crawled off the deck and cashed in. I put Saxtorph and his + graveyard gang to work heaving them overside, and over they went, the + living and the dead. The sharks had fat pickings that day. Of course our + four murdered sailors went the same way. Their heads, however, we put in a + sack with weights, so that by no chance should they drift on the beach and + fall into the hands of the niggers. + </p> + <p> + “Our five prisoners I decided to use as crew, but they decided otherwise. + They watched their opportunity and went over the side. Saxtorph got two in + mid-air with his revolver, and would have shot the other three in the + water if I hadn't stopped him. I was sick of the slaughter, you see, and + besides, they'd helped work the schooner out. But it was mercy thrown + away, for the sharks got the three of them. + </p> + <p> + “I had brain fever or something after we got clear of the land. Anyway, + the DUCHESS lay hove to for three weeks, when I pulled myself together and + we jogged on with her to Sydney. Anyway those niggers of Malu learned the + everlasting lesson that it is not good to monkey with a white man. In + their case, Saxtorph was certainly inevitable.” + </p> + <p> + Charley Roberts emitted a long whistle and said: + </p> + <p> + “Well I should say so. But whatever became of Saxtorph?” + </p> + <p> + “He drifted into seal hunting and became a crackerjack. For six years he + was high line of both the Victoria and San Francisco fleets. The seventh + year his schooner was seized in Bering Sea by a Russian cruiser, and all + hands, so the talk went, were slammed into the Siberian salt mines. At + least I've never heard of him since.” + </p> + <p> + “Farming the world,” Roberts muttered. “Farming the world. Well here's to + them. Somebody's got to do it—farm the world, I mean.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Woodward rubbed the criss-crosses on his bald head. + </p> + <p> + “I've done my share of it,” he said. “Forty years now. This will be my + last trip. Then I'm going home to stay.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll wager the wine you don't,” Roberts challenged. “You'll die in the + harness, not at home.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Woodward promptly accepted the bet, but personally I think Charley + Roberts has the best of it. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE SEED OF McCOY + </h2> + <p> + The Pyrenees, her iron sides pressed low in the water by her cargo of + wheat, rolled sluggishly, and made it easy for the man who was climbing + aboard from out a tiny outrigger canoe. As his eyes came level with the + rail, so that he could see inboard, it seemed to him that he saw a dim, + almost indiscernible haze. It was more like an illusion, like a blurring + film that had spread abruptly over his eyes. He felt an inclination to + brush it away, and the same instant he thought that he was growing old and + that it was time to send to San Francisco for a pair of spectacles. + </p> + <p> + As he came over the rail he cast a glance aloft at the tall masts, and, + next, at the pumps. They were not working. There seemed nothing the matter + with the big ship, and he wondered why she had hoisted the signal of + distress. He thought of his happy islanders, and hoped it was not disease. + Perhaps the ship was short of water or provisions. He shook hands with the + captain whose gaunt face and care-worn eyes made no secret of the trouble, + whatever it was. At the same moment the newcomer was aware of a faint, + indefinable smell. It seemed like that of burnt bread, but different. + </p> + <p> + He glanced curiously about him. Twenty feet away a weary-faced sailor was + calking the deck. As his eyes lingered on the man, he saw suddenly arise + from under his hands a faint spiral of haze that curled and twisted and + was gone. By now he had reached the deck. His bare feet were pervaded by a + dull warmth that quickly penetrated the thick calluses. He knew now the + nature of the ship's distress. His eyes roved swiftly forward, where the + full crew of weary-faced sailors regarded him eagerly. The glance from his + liquid brown eyes swept over them like a benediction, soothing them, + rapping them about as in the mantle of a great peace. “How long has she + been afire, Captain?” he asked in a voice so gentle and unperturbed that + it was as the cooing of a dove. + </p> + <p> + At first the captain felt the peace and content of it stealing in upon + him; then the consciousness of all that he had gone through and was going + through smote him, and he was resentful. By what right did this ragged + beachcomber, in dungaree trousers and a cotton shirt, suggest such a thing + as peace and content to him and his overwrought, exhausted soul? The + captain did not reason this; it was the unconscious process of emotion + that caused his resentment. + </p> + <p> + “Fifteen days,” he answered shortly. “Who are you?” + </p> + <p> + “My name is McCoy,” came the answer in tones that breathed tenderness and + compassion. + </p> + <p> + “I mean, are you the pilot?” + </p> + <p> + McCoy passed the benediction of his gaze over the tall, heavy-shouldered + man with the haggard, unshaven face who had joined the captain. + </p> + <p> + “I am as much a pilot as anybody,” was McCoy's answer. “We are all pilots + here, Captain, and I know every inch of these waters.” + </p> + <p> + But the captain was impatient. + </p> + <p> + “What I want is some of the authorities. I want to talk with them, and + blame quick.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I'll do just as well.” + </p> + <p> + Again that insidious suggestion of peace, and his ship a raging furnace + beneath his feet! The captain's eyebrows lifted impatiently and nervously, + and his fist clenched as if he were about to strike a blow with it. + </p> + <p> + “Who in hell are you?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I am the chief magistrate,” was the reply in a voice that was still the + softest and gentlest imaginable. + </p> + <p> + The tall, heavy-shouldered man broke out in a harsh laugh that was partly + amusement, but mostly hysterical. Both he and the captain regarded McCoy + with incredulity and amazement. That this barefooted beachcomber should + possess such high-sounding dignity was inconceivable. His cotton shirt, + unbuttoned, exposed a grizzled chest and the fact that there was no + undershirt beneath. + </p> + <p> + A worn straw hat failed to hide the ragged gray hair. Halfway down his + chest descended an untrimmed patriarchal beard. In any slop shop, two + shillings would have outfitted him complete as he stood before them. + </p> + <p> + “Any relation to the McCoy of the Bounty?” the captain asked. + </p> + <p> + “He was my great-grandfather.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” the captain said, then bethought himself. “My name is Davenport, and + this is my first mate, Mr. Konig.” + </p> + <p> + They shook hands. + </p> + <p> + “And now to business.” The captain spoke quickly, the urgency of a great + haste pressing his speech. “We've been on fire for over two weeks. She's + ready to break all hell loose any moment. That's why I held for Pitcairn. + I want to beach her, or scuttle her, and save the hull.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you made a mistake, Captain,” said McCoy. “You should have slacked + away for Mangareva. There's a beautiful beach there, in a lagoon where the + water is like a mill pond.” + </p> + <p> + “But we're here, ain't we?” the first mate demanded. “That's the point. + We're here, and we've got to do something.” + </p> + <p> + McCoy shook his head kindly. + </p> + <p> + “You can do nothing here. There is no beach. There isn't even anchorage.” + </p> + <p> + “Gammon!” said the mate. “Gammon!” he repeated loudly, as the captain + signaled him to be more soft spoken. “You can't tell me that sort of + stuff. Where d'ye keep your own boats, hey—your schooner, or cutter, + or whatever you have? Hey? Answer me that.” + </p> + <p> + McCoy smiled as gently as he spoke. His smile was a caress, an embrace + that surrounded the tired mate and sought to draw him into the quietude + and rest of McCoy's tranquil soul. + </p> + <p> + “We have no schooner or cutter,” he replied. “And we carry our canoes to + the top of the cliff.” + </p> + <p> + “You've got to show me,” snorted the mate. “How d'ye get around to the + other islands, heh? Tell me that.” + </p> + <p> + “We don't get around. As governor of Pitcairn, I sometimes go. When I was + younger, I was away a great deal—sometimes on the trading schooners, + but mostly on the missionary brig. But she's gone now, and we depend on + passing vessels. Sometimes we have had as high as six calls in one year. + At other times, a year, and even longer, has gone by without one passing + ship. Yours is the first in seven months.” + </p> + <p> + “And you mean to tell me—” the mate began. + </p> + <p> + But Captain Davenport interfered. + </p> + <p> + “Enough of this. We're losing time. What is to be done, Mr. McCoy?” + </p> + <p> + The old man turned his brown eyes, sweet as a woman's, shoreward, and both + captain and mate followed his gaze around from the lonely rock of Pitcairn + to the crew clustering forward and waiting anxiously for the announcement + of a decision. McCoy did not hurry. He thought smoothly and slowly, step + by step, with the certitude of a mind that was never vexed or outraged by + life. + </p> + <p> + “The wind is light now,” he said finally. “There is a heavy current + setting to the westward.” + </p> + <p> + “That's what made us fetch to leeward,” the captain interrupted, desiring + to vindicate his seamanship. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is what fetched you to leeward,” McCoy went on. “Well, you + can't work up against this current today. And if you did, there is no + beach. Your ship will be a total loss.” + </p> + <p> + He paused, and captain and mate looked despair at each other. + </p> + <p> + “But I will tell you what you can do. The breeze will freshen tonight + around midnight—see those tails of clouds and that thickness to + windward, beyond the point there? That's where she'll come from, out of + the southeast, hard. It is three hundred miles to Mangareva. Square away + for it. There is a beautiful bed for your ship there.” + </p> + <p> + The mate shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Come in to the cabin, and we'll look at the chart,” said the captain. + </p> + <p> + McCoy found a stifling, poisonous atmosphere in the pent cabin. Stray + waftures of invisible gases bit his eyes and made them sting. The deck was + hotter, almost unbearably hot to his bare feet. The sweat poured out of + his body. He looked almost with apprehension about him. This malignant, + internal heat was astounding. It was a marvel that the cabin did not burst + into flames. He had a feeling as if of being in a huge bake oven where the + heat might at any moment increase tremendously and shrivel him up like a + blade of grass. + </p> + <p> + As he lifted one foot and rubbed the hot sole against the leg of his + trousers, the mate laughed in a savage, snarling fashion. + </p> + <p> + “The anteroom of hell,” he said. “Hell herself is right down there under + your feet.” + </p> + <p> + “It's hot!” McCoy cried involuntarily, mopping his face with a bandana + handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + “Here's Mangareva,” the captain said, bending over the table and pointing + to a black speck in the midst of the white blankness of the chart. “And + here, in between, is another island. Why not run for that?” + </p> + <p> + McCoy did not look at the chart. + </p> + <p> + “That's Crescent Island,” he answered. “It is uninhabited, and it is only + two or three feet above water. Lagoon, but no entrance. No, Mangareva is + the nearest place for your purpose.” + </p> + <p> + “Mangareva it is, then,” said Captain Davenport, interrupting the mate's + growling objection. “Call the crew aft, Mr. Konig.” + </p> + <p> + The sailors obeyed, shuffling wearily along the deck and painfully + endeavoring to make haste. Exhaustion was evident in every movement. The + cook came out of his galley to hear, and the cabin boy hung about near + him. + </p> + <p> + When Captain Davenport had explained the situation and announced his + intention of running for Mangareva, an uproar broke out. Against a + background of throaty rumbling arose inarticulate cries of rage, with here + and there a distinct curse, or word, or phrase. A shrill Cockney voice + soared and dominated for a moment, crying: “Gawd! After bein' in ell for + fifteen days—an' now e wants us to sail this floatin' ell to sea + again?” + </p> + <p> + The captain could not control them, but McCoy's gentle presence seemed to + rebuke and calm them, and the muttering and cursing died away, until the + full crew, save here and there an anxious face directed at the captain, + yearned dumbly toward the green clad peaks and beetling coast of Pitcairn. + </p> + <p> + Soft as a spring zephyr was the voice of McCoy: + </p> + <p> + “Captain, I thought I heard some of them say they were starving.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” was the answer, “and so we are. I've had a sea biscuit and a + spoonful of salmon in the last two days. We're on whack. You see, when we + discovered the fire, we battened down immediately to suffocate the fire. + And then we found how little food there was in the pantry. But it was too + late. We didn't dare break out the lazarette. Hungry? I'm just as hungry + as they are.” + </p> + <p> + He spoke to the men again, and again the throat rumbling and cursing + arose, their faces convulsed and animal-like with rage. The second and + third mates had joined the captain, standing behind him at the break of + the poop. Their faces were set and expressionless; they seemed bored, more + than anything else, by this mutiny of the crew. Captain Davenport glanced + questioningly at his first mate, and that person merely shrugged his + shoulders in token of his helplessness. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” the captain said to McCoy, “you can't compel sailors to leave + the safe land and go to sea on a burning vessel. She has been their + floating coffin for over two weeks now. They are worked out, and starved + out, and they've got enough of her. We'll beat up for Pitcairn.” + </p> + <p> + But the wind was light, the Pyrenees' bottom was foul, and she could not + beat up against the strong westerly current. At the end of two hours she + had lost three miles. The sailors worked eagerly, as if by main strength + they could compel the PYRENEES against the adverse elements. But steadily, + port tack and starboard tack, she sagged off to the westward. The captain + paced restlessly up and down, pausing occasionally to survey the vagrant + smoke wisps and to trace them back to the portions of the deck from which + they sprang. The carpenter was engaged constantly in attempting to locate + such places, and, when he succeeded, in calking them tighter and tighter. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what do you think?” the captain finally asked McCoy, who was + watching the carpenter with all a child's interest and curiosity in his + eyes. + </p> + <p> + McCoy looked shoreward, where the land was disappearing in the thickening + haze. + </p> + <p> + “I think it would be better to square away for Mangareva. With that breeze + that is coming, you'll be there tomorrow evening.” + </p> + <p> + “But what if the fire breaks out? It is liable to do it any moment.” + </p> + <p> + “Have your boats ready in the falls. The same breeze will carry your boats + to Mangareva if the ship burns out from under.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport debated for a moment, and then McCoy heard the question + he had not wanted to hear, but which he knew was surely coming. + </p> + <p> + “I have no chart of Mangareva. On the general chart it is only a fly + speck. I would not know where to look for the entrance into the lagoon. + Will you come along and pilot her in for me?” + </p> + <p> + McCoy's serenity was unbroken. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Captain,” he said, with the same quiet unconcern with which he would + have accepted an invitation to dinner; “I'll go with you to Mangareva.” + </p> + <p> + Again the crew was called aft, and the captain spoke to them from the + break of the poop. + </p> + <p> + “We've tried to work her up, but you see how we've lost ground. She's + setting off in a two-knot current. This gentleman is the Honorable McCoy, + Chief Magistrate and Governor of Pitcairn Island. He will come along with + us to Mangareva. So you see the situation is not so dangerous. He would + not make such an offer if he thought he was going to lose his life. + Besides, whatever risk there is, if he of his own free will come on board + and take it, we can do no less. What do you say for Mangareva?” + </p> + <p> + This time there was no uproar. McCoy's presence, the surety and calm that + seemed to radiate from him, had had its effect. They conferred with one + another in low voices. There was little urging. They were virtually + unanimous, and they shoved the Cockney out as their spokesman. That worthy + was overwhelmed with consciousness of the heroism of himself and his + mates, and with flashing eyes he cried: + </p> + <p> + “By Gawd! If 'e will, we will!” + </p> + <p> + The crew mumbled its assent and started forward. + </p> + <p> + “One moment, Captain,” McCoy said, as the other was turning to give orders + to the mate. “I must go ashore first.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Konig was thunderstruck, staring at McCoy as if he were a madman. + </p> + <p> + “Go ashore!” the captain cried. “What for? It will take you three hours to + get there in your canoe.” + </p> + <p> + McCoy measured the distance of the land away, and nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is six now. I won't get ashore till nine. The people cannot be + assembled earlier than ten. As the breeze freshens up tonight, you can + begin to work up against it, and pick me up at daylight tomorrow morning.” + </p> + <p> + “In the name of reason and common sense,” the captain burst forth, “what + do you want to assemble the people for? Don't you realize that my ship is + burning beneath me?” + </p> + <p> + McCoy was as placid as a summer sea, and the other's anger produced not + the slightest ripple upon it. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Captain,” he cooed in his dove-like voice. “I do realize that your + ship is burning. That is why I am going with you to Mangareva. But I must + get permission to go with you. It is our custom. It is an important matter + when the governor leaves the island. The people's interests are at stake, + and so they have the right to vote their permission or refusal. But they + will give it, I know that.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Then if you know they will give it, why bother with getting it? Think of + the delay—a whole night.” + </p> + <p> + “It is our custom,” was the imperturbable reply. “Also, I am the governor, + and I must make arrangements for the conduct of the island during my + absence.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is only a twenty-four hour run to Mangareva,” the captain + objected. “Suppose it took you six times that long to return to windward; + that would bring you back by the end of a week.” + </p> + <p> + McCoy smiled his large, benevolent smile. + </p> + <p> + “Very few vessels come to Pitcairn, and when they do, they are usually + from San Francisco or from around the Horn. I shall be fortunate if I get + back in six months. I may be away a year, and I may have to go to San + Francisco in order to find a vessel that will bring me back. My father + once left Pitcairn to be gone three months, and two years passed before he + could get back. Then, too, you are short of food. If you have to take to + the boats, and the weather comes up bad, you may be days in reaching land. + I can bring off two canoe loads of food in the morning. Dried bananas will + be best. As the breeze freshens, you beat up against it. The nearer you + are, the bigger loads I can bring off. Goodby.” + </p> + <p> + He held out his hand. The captain shook it, and was reluctant to let go. + He seemed to cling to it as a drowning sailor clings to a life buoy. + </p> + <p> + “How do I know you will come back in the morning?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that's it!” cried the mate. “How do we know but what he's skinning + out to save his own hide?” + </p> + <p> + McCoy did not speak. He looked at them sweetly and benignantly, and it + seemed to them that they received a message from his tremendous certitude + of soul. + </p> + <p> + The captain released his hand, and, with a last sweeping glance that + embraced the crew in its benediction, McCoy went over the rail and + descended into his canoe. + </p> + <p> + The wind freshened, and the Pyrenees, despite the foulness of her bottom, + won half a dozen miles away from the westerly current. At daylight, with + Pitcairn three miles to windward, Captain Davenport made out two canoes + coming off to him. Again McCoy clambered up the side and dropped over the + rail to the hot deck. He was followed by many packages of dried bananas, + each package wrapped in dry leaves. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Captain,” he said, “swing the yards and drive for dear life. You + see, I am no navigator,” he explained a few minutes later, as he stood by + the captain aft, the latter with gaze wandering from aloft to overside as + he estimated the Pyrenees' speed. “You must fetch her to Mangareva. When + you have picked up the land, then I will pilot her in. What do you think + she is making?” + </p> + <p> + “Eleven,” Captain Davenport answered, with a final glance at the water + rushing past. + </p> + <p> + “Eleven. Let me see, if she keeps up that gait, we'll sight Mangareva + between eight and nine o'clock tomorrow morning. I'll have her on the + beach by ten or by eleven at latest. And then your troubles will be all + over.” + </p> + <p> + It almost seemed to the captain that the blissful moment had already + arrived, such was the persuasive convincingness of McCoy. + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport had been under the fearful strain of navigating his + burning ship for over two weeks, and he was beginning to feel that he had + had enough. + </p> + <p> + A heavier flaw of wind struck the back of his neck and whistled by his + ears. He measured the weight of it, and looked quickly overside. + </p> + <p> + “The wind is making all the time,” he announced. “The old girl's doing + nearer twelve than eleven right now. If this keeps up, we'll be shortening + down tonight.” + </p> + <p> + All day the Pyrenees, carrying her load of living fire, tore across the + foaming sea. By nightfall, royals and topgallantsails were in, and she + flew on into the darkness, with great, crested seas roaring after her. The + auspicious wind had had its effect, and fore and aft a visible brightening + was apparent. In the second dog-watch some careless soul started a song, + and by eight bells the whole crew was singing. + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport had his blankets brought up and spread on top the house. + </p> + <p> + “I've forgotten what sleep is,” he explained to McCoy. “I'm all in. But + give me a call at any time you think necessary.” + </p> + <p> + At three in the morning he was aroused by a gentle tugging at his arm. He + sat up quickly, bracing himself against the skylight, stupid yet from his + heavy sleep. The wind was thrumming its war song in the rigging, and a + wild sea was buffeting the PYRENEES. Amidships she was wallowing first one + rail under and then the other, flooding the waist more often than not. + McCoy was shouting something he could not hear. He reached out, clutched + the other by the shoulder, and drew him close so that his own ear was + close to the other's lips. + </p> + <p> + “It's three o'clock,” came McCoy's voice, still retaining its dovelike + quality, but curiously muffled, as if from a long way off. “We've run two + hundred and fifty. Crescent Island is only thirty miles away, somewhere + there dead ahead. There's no lights on it. If we keep running, we'll pile + up, and lose ourselves as well as the ship.” + </p> + <p> + “What d' ye think—heave to?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; heave to till daylight. It will only put us back four hours.” + </p> + <p> + So the Pyrenees, with her cargo of fire, was hove to, bitting the teeth of + the gale and fighting and smashing the pounding seas. She was a shell, + filled with a conflagration, and on the outside of the shell, clinging + precariously, the little motes of men, by pull and haul, helped her in the + battle. + </p> + <p> + “It is most unusual, this gale,” McCoy told the captain, in the lee of the + cabin. “By rights there should be no gale at this time of the year. But + everything about the weather has been unusual. There has been a stoppage + of the trades, and now it's howling right out of the trade quarter.” He + waved his hand into the darkness, as if his vision could dimly penetrate + for hundreds of miles. “It is off to the westward. There is something big + making off there somewhere—a hurricane or something. We're lucky to + be so far to the eastward. But this is only a little blow,” he added. “It + can't last. I can tell you that much.” + </p> + <p> + By daylight the gale had eased down to normal. But daylight revealed a new + danger. It had come on thick. The sea was covered by a fog, or, rather, by + a pearly mist that was fog-like in density, in so far as it obstructed + vision, but that was no more than a film on the sea, for the sun shot it + through and filled it with a glowing radiance. + </p> + <p> + The deck of the Pyrenees was making more smoke than on the preceding day, + and the cheerfulness of officers and crew had vanished. In the lee of the + galley the cabin boy could be heard whimpering. It was his first voyage, + and the fear of death was at his heart. The captain wandered about like a + lost soul, nervously chewing his mustache, scowling, unable to make up his + mind what to do. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think?” he asked, pausing by the side of McCoy, who was + making a breakfast off fried bananas and a mug of water. + </p> + <p> + McCoy finished the last banana, drained the mug, and looked slowly around. + In his eyes was a smile of tenderness as he said: + </p> + <p> + “Well, Captain, we might as well drive as burn. Your decks are not going + to hold out forever. They are hotter this morning. You haven't a pair of + shoes I can wear? It is getting uncomfortable for my bare feet.” + </p> + <p> + The Pyrenees shipped two heavy seas as she was swung off and put once more + before it, and the first mate expressed a desire to have all that water + down in the hold, if only it could be introduced without taking off the + hatches. McCoy ducked his head into the binnacle and watched the course + set. + </p> + <p> + “I'd hold her up some more, Captain,” he said. “She's been making drift + when hove to.” + </p> + <p> + “I've set it to a point higher already,” was the answer. “Isn't that + enough?” + </p> + <p> + “I'd make it two points, Captain. This bit of a blow kicked that westerly + current ahead faster than you imagine.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport compromised on a point and a half, and then went aloft, + accompanied by McCoy and the first mate, to keep a lookout for land. Sail + had been made, so that the Pyrenees was doing ten knots. The following sea + was dying down rapidly. There was no break in the pearly fog, and by ten + o'clock Captain Davenport was growing nervous. All hands were at their + stations, ready, at the first warning of land ahead, to spring like fiends + to the task of bringing the Pyrenees up on the wind. That land ahead, a + surf-washed outer reef, would be perilously close when it revealed itself + in such a fog. + </p> + <p> + Another hour passed. The three watchers aloft stared intently into the + pearly radiance. “What if we miss Mangareva?” Captain Davenport asked + abruptly. + </p> + <p> + McCoy, without shifting his gaze, answered softly: + </p> + <p> + “Why, let her drive, captain. That is all we can do. All the Paumotus are + before us. We can drive for a thousand miles through reefs and atolls. We + are bound to fetch up somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “Then drive it is.” Captain Davenport evidenced his intention of + descending to the deck. “We've missed Mangareva. God knows where the next + land is. I wish I'd held her up that other half-point,” he confessed a + moment later. “This cursed current plays the devil with a navigator.” + </p> + <p> + “The old navigators called the Paumotus the Dangerous Archipelago,” McCoy + said, when they had regained the poop. “This very current was partly + responsible for that name.” + </p> + <p> + “I was talking with a sailor chap in Sydney, once,” said Mr. Konig. “He'd + been trading in the Paumotus. He told me insurance was eighteen per cent. + Is that right?” + </p> + <p> + McCoy smiled and nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Except that they don't insure,” he explained. “The owners write off + twenty per cent of the cost of their schooners each year.” + </p> + <p> + “My God!” Captain Davenport groaned. “That makes the life of a schooner + only five years!” He shook his head sadly, murmuring, “Bad waters! Bad + waters!” + </p> + <p> + Again they went into the cabin to consult the big general chart; but the + poisonous vapors drove them coughing and gasping on deck. + </p> + <p> + “Here is Moerenhout Island,” Captain Davenport pointed it out on the + chart, which he had spread on the house. “It can't be more than a hundred + miles to leeward.” + </p> + <p> + “A hundred and ten.” McCoy shook his head doubtfully. “It might be done, + but it is very difficult. I might beach her, and then again I might put + her on the reef. A bad place, a very bad place.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll take the chance,” was Captain Davenport's decision, as he set about + working out the course. + </p> + <p> + Sail was shortened early in the afternoon, to avoid running past in the + night; and in the second dog-watch the crew manifested its regained + cheerfulness. Land was so very near, and their troubles would be over in + the morning. + </p> + <p> + But morning broke clear, with a blazing tropic sun. The southeast trade + had swung around to the eastward, and was driving the PYRENEES through the + water at an eight-knot clip. Captain Davenport worked up his dead + reckoning, allowing generously for drift, and announced Moerenhout Island + to be not more than ten miles off. The Pyrenees sailed the ten miles; she + sailed ten miles more; and the lookouts at the three mastheads saw naught + but the naked, sun-washed sea. + </p> + <p> + “But the land is there, I tell you,” Captain Davenport shouted to them + from the poop. + </p> + <p> + McCoy smiled soothingly, but the captain glared about him like a madman, + fetched his sextant, and took a chronometer sight. + </p> + <p> + “I knew I was right,” he almost shouted, when he had worked up the + observation. “Twenty-one, fifty-five, south; one-thirty-six, two, west. + There you are. We're eight miles to windward yet. What did you make it + out, Mr. Konig?” + </p> + <p> + The first mate glanced at his own figures, and said in a low voice: + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-one, fifty-five all right; but my longitude's one-thirty-six, + forty-eight. That puts us considerably to leeward—” + </p> + <p> + But Captain Davenport ignored his figures with so contemptuous a silence + as to make Mr. Konig grit his teeth and curse savagely under his breath. + </p> + <p> + “Keep her off,” the captain ordered the man at the wheel. “Three points—steady + there, as she goes!” + </p> + <p> + Then he returned to his figures and worked them over. The sweat poured + from his face. He chewed his mustache, his lips, and his pencil, staring + at the figures as a man might at a ghost. Suddenly, with a fierce, + muscular outburst, he crumpled the scribbled paper in his fist and crushed + it under foot. Mr. Konig grinned vindictively and turned away, while + Captain Davenport leaned against the cabin and for half an hour spoke no + word, contenting himself with gazing to leeward with an expression of + musing hopelessness on his face. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. McCoy,” he broke silence abruptly. “The chart indicates a group of + islands, but not how many, off there to the north'ard, or + nor'-nor'westward, about forty miles—the Acteon Islands. What about + them?” + </p> + <p> + “There are four, all low,” McCoy answered. “First to the southeast is + Matuerui—no people, no entrance to the lagoon. Then comes Tenarunga. + There used to be about a dozen people there, but they may be all gone now. + Anyway, there is no entrance for a ship—only a boat entrance, with a + fathom of water. Vehauga and Teua-raro are the other two. No entrances, no + people, very low. There is no bed for the Pyrenees in that group. She + would be a total wreck.” + </p> + <p> + “Listen to that!” Captain Davenport was frantic. “No people! No entrances! + What in the devil are islands good for? + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” he barked suddenly, like an excited terrier, “the chart + gives a whole mess of islands off to the nor'west. What about them? What + one has an entrance where I can lay my ship?” + </p> + <p> + McCoy calmly considered. He did not refer to the chart. All these islands, + reefs, shoals, lagoons, entrances, and distances were marked on the chart + of his memory. He knew them as the city dweller knows his buildings, + streets, and alleys. + </p> + <p> + “Papakena and Vanavana are off there to the westward, or west-nor'westward + a hundred miles and a bit more,” he said. “One is uninhabited, and I heard + that the people on the other had gone off to Cadmus Island. Anyway, + neither lagoon has an entrance. Ahunui is another hundred miles on to the + nor'west. No entrance, no people.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, forty miles beyond them are two islands?” Captain Davenport + queried, raising his head from the chart. + </p> + <p> + McCoy shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Paros and Manuhungi—no entrances, no people. Nengo-Nengo is forty + miles beyond them, in turn, and it has no people and no entrance. But + there is Hao Island. It is just the place. The lagoon is thirty miles long + and five miles wide. There are plenty of people. You can usually find + water. And any ship in the world can go through the entrance.” + </p> + <p> + He ceased and gazed solicitously at Captain Davenport, who, bending over + the chart with a pair of dividers in hand, had just emitted a low groan. + </p> + <p> + “Is there any lagoon with an entrance anywhere nearer than Hao Island?” he + asked. + </p> + <p> + “No, Captain; that is the nearest.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's three hundred and forty miles.” Captain Davenport was speaking + very slowly, with decision. “I won't risk the responsibility of all these + lives. I'll wreck her on the Acteons. And she's a good ship, too,” he + added regretfully, after altering the course, this time making more + allowance than ever for the westerly current. + </p> + <p> + An hour later the sky was overcast. The southeast trade still held, but + the ocean was a checker board of squalls. + </p> + <p> + “We'll be there by one o'clock,” Captain Davenport announced confidently. + “By two o'clock at the outside. McCoy, you put her ashore on the one where + the people are.” + </p> + <p> + The sun did not appear again, nor, at one o'clock, was any land to be + seen. Captain Davenport looked astern at the Pyrenees' canting wake. + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord!” he cried. “An easterly current? Look at that!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Konig was incredulous. McCoy was noncommittal, though he said that in + the Paumotus there was no reason why it should not be an easterly current. + A few minutes later a squall robbed the Pyrenees temporarily of all her + wind, and she was left rolling heavily in the trough. + </p> + <p> + “Where's that deep lead? Over with it, you there!” Captain Davenport held + the lead line and watched it sag off to the northeast. “There, look at + that! Take hold of it for yourself.” + </p> + <p> + McCoy and the mate tried it, and felt the line thrumming and vibrating + savagely to the grip of the tidal stream. + </p> + <p> + “A four-knot current,” said Mr. Konig. + </p> + <p> + “An easterly current instead of a westerly,” said Captain “Davenport, + glaring accusingly at McCoy, as if to cast the blame for it upon him. + </p> + <p> + “That is one of the reasons, Captain, for insurance being eighteen per + cent in these waters,” McCoy answered cheerfully. “You can never tell. The + currents are always changing. There was a man who wrote books, I forget + his name, in the yacht Casco. He missed Takaroa by thirty miles and + fetched Tikei, all because of the shifting currents. You are up to + windward now, and you'd better keep off a few points.” + </p> + <p> + “But how much has this current set me?” the captain demanded irately. “How + am I to know how much to keep off?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, Captain,” McCoy said with great gentleness. + </p> + <p> + The wind returned, and the PYRENEES, her deck smoking and shimmering in + the bright gray light, ran off dead to leeward. Then she worked back, port + tack and starboard tack, crisscrossing her track, combing the sea for the + Acteon Islands, which the masthead lookouts failed to sight. + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport was beside himself. His rage took the form of sullen + silence, and he spent the afternoon in pacing the poop or leaning against + the weather shrouds. At nightfall, without even consulting McCoy, he + squared away and headed into the northwest. Mr. Konig, surreptitiously + consulting chart and binnacle, and McCoy, openly and innocently consulting + the binnacle, knew that they were running for Hao Island. By midnight the + squalls ceased, and the stars came out. Captain Davenport was cheered by + the promise of a clear day. + </p> + <p> + “I'll get an observation in the morning,” he told McCoy, “though what my + latitude is, is a puzzler. But I'll use the Sumner method, and settle + that. Do you know the Sumner line?” + </p> + <p> + And thereupon he explained it in detail to McCoy. + </p> + <p> + The day proved clear, the trade blew steadily out of the east, and the + Pyrenees just as steadily logged her nine knots. Both the captain and mate + worked out the position on a Sumner line, and agreed, and at noon agreed + again, and verified the morning sights by the noon sights. + </p> + <p> + “Another twenty-four hours and we'll be there,” Captain Davenport assured + McCoy. “It's a miracle the way the old girl's decks hold out. But they + can't last. They can't last. Look at them smoke, more and more every day. + Yet it was a tight deck to begin with, fresh-calked in Frisco. I was + surprised when the fire first broke out and we battened down. Look at + that!” + </p> + <p> + He broke off to gaze with dropped jaw at a spiral of smoke that coiled and + twisted in the lee of the mizzenmast twenty feet above the deck. + </p> + <p> + “Now, how did that get there?” he demanded indignantly. + </p> + <p> + Beneath it there was no smoke. Crawling up from the deck, sheltered from + the wind by the mast, by some freak it took form and visibility at that + height. It writhed away from the mast, and for a moment overhung the + captain like some threatening portent. The next moment the wind whisked it + away, and the captain's jaw returned to place. + </p> + <p> + “As I was saying, when we first battened down, I was surprised. It was a + tight deck, yet it leaked smoke like a sieve. And we've calked and calked + ever since. There must be tremendous pressure underneath to drive so much + smoke through.” + </p> + <p> + That afternoon the sky became overcast again, and squally, drizzly weather + set in. The wind shifted back and forth between southeast and northeast, + and at midnight the Pyrenees was caught aback by a sharp squall from the + southwest, from which point the wind continued to blow intermittently. + </p> + <p> + “We won't make Hao until ten or eleven,” Captain Davenport complained at + seven in the morning, when the fleeting promise of the sun had been erased + by hazy cloud masses in the eastern sky. And the next moment he was + plaintively demanding, “And what are the currents doing?” + </p> + <p> + Lookouts at the mastheads could report no land, and the day passed in + drizzling calms and violent squalls. By nightfall a heavy sea began to + make from the west. The barometer had fallen to 29.50. There was no wind, + and still the ominous sea continued to increase. Soon the Pyrenees was + rolling madly in the huge waves that marched in an unending procession + from out of the darkness of the west. Sail was shortened as fast as both + watches could work, and, when the tired crew had finished, its grumbling + and complaining voices, peculiarly animal-like and menacing, could be + heard in the darkness. Once the starboard watch was called aft to lash + down and make secure, and the men openly advertised their sullenness and + unwillingness. Every slow movement was a protest and a threat. The + atmosphere was moist and sticky like mucilage, and in the absence of wind + all hands seemed to pant and gasp for air. The sweat stood out on faces + and bare arms, and Captain Davenport for one, his face more gaunt and + care-worn than ever, and his eyes troubled and staring, was oppressed by a + feeling of impending calamity. + </p> + <p> + “It's off to the westward,” McCoy said encouragingly. “At worst, we'll be + only on the edge of it.” + </p> + <p> + But Captain Davenport refused to be comforted, and by the light of a + lantern read up the chapter in his Epitome that related to the strategy of + shipmasters in cyclonic storms. From somewhere amidships the silence was + broken by a low whimpering from the cabin boy. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, shut up!” Captain Davenport yelled suddenly and with such force as to + startle every man on board and to frighten the offender into a wild wail + of terror. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Konig,” the captain said in a voice that trembled with rage and + nerves, “will you kindly step for'ard and stop that brat's mouth with a + deck mop?” + </p> + <p> + But it was McCoy who went forward, and in a few minutes had the boy + comforted and asleep. + </p> + <p> + Shortly before daybreak the first breath of air began to move from out the + southeast, increasing swiftly to a stiff and stiffer breeze. All hands + were on deck waiting for what might be behind it. “We're all right now, + Captain,” said McCoy, standing close to his shoulder. “The hurricane is to + the west'ard, and we are south of it. This breeze is the in-suck. It won't + blow any harder. You can begin to put sail on her.” + </p> + <p> + “But what's the good? Where shall I sail? This is the second day without + observations, and we should have sighted Hao Island yesterday morning. + Which way does it bear, north, south, east, or what? Tell me that, and + I'll make sail in a jiffy.” + </p> + <p> + “I am no navigator, Captain,” McCoy said in his mild way. + </p> + <p> + “I used to think I was one,” was the retort, “before I got into these + Paumotus.” + </p> + <p> + At midday the cry of “Breakers ahead!” was heard from the lookout. The + Pyrenees was kept off, and sail after sail was loosed and sheeted home. + The Pyrenees was sliding through the water and fighting a current that + threatened to set her down upon the breakers. Officers and men were + working like mad, cook and cabin boy, Captain Davenport himself, and McCoy + all lending a hand. It was a close shave. It was a low shoal, a bleak and + perilous place over which the seas broke unceasingly, where no man could + live, and on which not even sea birds could rest. The PYRENEES was swept + within a hundred yards of it before the wind carried her clear, and at + this moment the panting crew, its work done, burst out in a torrent of + curses upon the head of McCoy—of McCoy who had come on board, and + proposed the run to Mangareva, and lured them all away from the safety of + Pitcairn Island to certain destruction in this baffling and terrible + stretch of sea. But McCoy's tranquil soul was undisturbed. He smiled at + them with simple and gracious benevolence, and, somehow, the exalted + goodness of him seemed to penetrate to their dark and somber souls, + shaming them, and from very shame stilling the curses vibrating in their + throats. + </p> + <p> + “Bad waters! Bad waters!” Captain Davenport was murmuring as his ship + forged clear; but he broke off abruptly to gaze at the shoal which should + have been dead astern, but which was already on the PYRENEES' + weather-quarter and working up rapidly to windward. + </p> + <p> + He sat down and buried his face in his hands. And the first mate saw, and + McCoy saw, and the crew saw, what he had seen. South of the shoal an + easterly current had set them down upon it; north of the shoal an equally + swift westerly current had clutched the ship and was sweeping her away. + </p> + <p> + “I've heard of these Paumotus before,” the captain groaned, lifting his + blanched face from his hands. “Captain Moyendale told me about them after + losing his ship on them. And I laughed at him behind his back. God forgive + me, I laughed at him. What shoal is that?” he broke off, to ask McCoy. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, Captain.” + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you know?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I never saw it before, and because I have never heard of it. I do + know that it is not charted. These waters have never been thoroughly + surveyed.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you don't know where we are?” + </p> + <p> + “No more than you do,” McCoy said gently. + </p> + <p> + At four in the afternoon cocoanut trees were sighted, apparently growing + out of the water. A little later the low land of an atoll was raised above + the sea. + </p> + <p> + “I know where we are now, Captain.” McCoy lowered the glasses from his + eyes. “That's Resolution Island. We are forty miles beyond Hao Island, and + the wind is in our teeth.” + </p> + <p> + “Get ready to beach her then. Where's the entrance?” + </p> + <p> + “There's only a canoe passage. But now that we know where we are, we can + run for Barclay de Tolley. It is only one hundred and twenty miles from + here, due nor'-nor'west. With this breeze we can be there by nine o'clock + tomorrow morning.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport consulted the chart and debated with himself. + </p> + <p> + “If we wreck her here,” McCoy added, “we'd have to make the run to Barclay + de Tolley in the boats just the same.” + </p> + <p> + The captain gave his orders, and once more the Pyrenees swung off for + another run across the inhospitable sea. + </p> + <p> + And the middle of the next afternoon saw despair and mutiny on her smoking + deck. The current had accelerated, the wind had slackened, and the + Pyrenees had sagged off to the west. The lookout sighted Barclay de Tolley + to the eastward, barely visible from the masthead, and vainly and for + hours the PYRENEES tried to beat up to it. Ever, like a mirage, the + cocoanut trees hovered on the horizon, visible only from the masthead. + From the deck they were hidden by the bulge of the world. + </p> + <p> + Again Captain Davenport consulted McCoy and the chart. Makemo lay + seventy-five miles to the southwest. Its lagoon was thirty miles long, and + its entrance was excellent. When Captain Davenport gave his orders, the + crew refused duty. They announced that they had had enough of hell fire + under their feet. There was the land. What if the ship could not make it? + They could make it in the boats. Let her burn, then. Their lives amounted + to something to them. They had served faithfully the ship, now they were + going to serve themselves. + </p> + <p> + They sprang to the boats, brushing the second and third mates out of the + way, and proceeded to swing the boats out and to prepare to lower away. + Captain Davenport and the first mate, revolvers in hand, were advancing to + the break of the poop, when McCoy, who had climbed on top of the cabin, + began to speak. + </p> + <p> + He spoke to the sailors, and at the first sound of his dovelike, cooing + voice they paused to hear. He extended to them his own ineffable serenity + and peace. His soft voice and simple thoughts flowed out to them in a + magic stream, soothing them against their wills. Long forgotten things + came back to them, and some remembered lullaby songs of childhood and the + content and rest of the mother's arm at the end of the day. There was no + more trouble, no more danger, no more irk, in all the world. Everything + was as it should be, and it was only a matter of course that they should + turn their backs upon the land and put to sea once more with hell fire hot + beneath their feet. + </p> + <p> + McCoy spoke simply; but it was not what he spoke. It was his personality + that spoke more eloquently than any word he could utter. It was an alchemy + of soul occultly subtile and profoundly deep—a mysterious emanation + of the spirit, seductive, sweetly humble, and terribly imperious. It was + illumination in the dark crypts of their souls, a compulsion of purity and + gentleness vastly greater than that which resided in the shining, + death-spitting revolvers of the officers. + </p> + <p> + The men wavered reluctantly where they stood, and those who had loosed the + turns made them fast again. Then one, and then another, and then all of + them, began to sidle awkwardly away. + </p> + <p> + McCoy's face was beaming with childlike pleasure as he descended from the + top of the cabin. There was no trouble. For that matter there had been no + trouble averted. There never had been any trouble, for there was no place + for such in the blissful world in which he lived. + </p> + <p> + “You hypnotized em,” Mr. Konig grinned at him, speaking in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “Those boys are good,” was the answer. “Their hearts are good. They have + had a hard time, and they have worked hard, and they will work hard to the + end.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Konig had not time to reply. His voice was ringing out orders, the + sailors were springing to obey, and the PYRENEES was paying slowly off + from the wind until her bow should point in the direction of Makemo. + </p> + <p> + The wind was very light, and after sundown almost ceased. It was + insufferably warm, and fore and aft men sought vainly to sleep. The deck + was too hot to lie upon, and poisonous vapors, oozing through the seams, + crept like evil spirits over the ship, stealing into the nostrils and + windpipes of the unwary and causing fits of sneezing and coughing. The + stars blinked lazily in the dim vault overhead; and the full moon, rising + in the east, touched with its light the myriads of wisps and threads and + spidery films of smoke that intertwined and writhed and twisted along the + deck, over the rails, and up the masts and shrouds. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me,” Captain Davenport said, rubbing his smarting eyes, “what + happened with that BOUNTY crowd after they reached Pitcairn? The account I + read said they burnt the Bounty, and that they were not discovered until + many years later. But what happened in the meantime? I've always been + curious to know. They were men with their necks in the rope. There were + some native men, too. And then there were women. That made it look like + trouble right from the jump.” + </p> + <p> + “There was trouble,” McCoy answered. “They were bad men. They quarreled + about the women right away. One of the mutineers, Williams, lost his wife. + All the women were Tahitian women. His wife fell from the cliffs when + hunting sea birds. Then he took the wife of one of the native men away + from him. All the native men were made very angry by this, and they killed + off nearly all the mutineers. Then the mutineers that escaped killed off + all the native men. The women helped. And the natives killed each other. + Everybody killed everybody. They were terrible men. + </p> + <p> + “Timiti was killed by two other natives while they were combing his hair + in friendship. The white men had sent them to do it. Then the white men + killed them. The wife of Tullaloo killed him in a cave because she wanted + a white man for husband. They were very wicked. God had hidden His face + from them. At the end of two years all the native men were murdered, and + all the white men except four. They were Young, John Adams, McCoy, who was + my great-grandfather, and Quintal. He was a very bad man, too. Once, just + because his wife did not catch enough fish for him, he bit off her ear.” + </p> + <p> + “They were a bad lot!” Mr. Konig exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, they were very bad,” McCoy agreed and went on serenely cooing of the + blood and lust of his iniquitous ancestry. “My great-grandfather escaped + murder in order to die by his own hand. He made a still and manufactured + alcohol from the roots of the ti-plant. Quintal was his chum, and they got + drunk together all the time. At last McCoy got delirium tremens, tied a + rock to his neck, and jumped into the sea. + </p> + <p> + “Quintal's wife, the one whose ear he bit off, also got killed by falling + from the cliffs. Then Quintal went to Young and demanded his wife, and + went to Adams and demanded his wife. Adams and Young were afraid of + Quintal. They knew he would kill them. So they killed him, the two of them + together, with a hatchet. Then Young died. And that was about all the + trouble they had.” + </p> + <p> + “I should say so,” Captain Davenport snorted. “There was nobody left to + kill.” + </p> + <p> + “You see, God had hidden His face,” McCoy said. + </p> + <p> + By morning no more than a faint air was blowing from the eastward, and, + unable to make appreciable southing by it, Captain Davenport hauled up + full-and-by on the port track. He was afraid of that terrible westerly + current which had cheated him out of so many ports of refuge. All day the + calm continued, and all night, while the sailors, on a short ration of + dried banana, were grumbling. Also, they were growing weak and complaining + of stomach pains caused by the straight banana diet. All day the current + swept the PYRENEES to the westward, while there was no wind to bear her + south. In the middle of the first dogwatch, cocoanut trees were sighted + due south, their tufted heads rising above the water and marking the + low-lying atoll beneath. + </p> + <p> + “That is Taenga Island,” McCoy said. “We need a breeze tonight, or else + we'll miss Makemo.” + </p> + <p> + “What's become of the southeast trade?” the captain demanded. “Why don't + it blow? What's the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “It is the evaporation from the big lagoons—there are so many of + them,” McCoy explained. “The evaporation upsets the whole system of + trades. It even causes the wind to back up and blow gales from the + southwest. This is the Dangerous Archipelago, Captain.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport faced the old man, opened his mouth, and was about to + curse, but paused and refrained. McCoy's presence was a rebuke to the + blasphemies that stirred in his brain and trembled in his larynx. McCoy's + influence had been growing during the many days they had been together. + Captain Davenport was an autocrat of the sea, fearing no man, never + bridling his tongue, and now he found himself unable to curse in the + presence of this old man with the feminine brown eyes and the voice of a + dove. When he realized this, Captain Davenport experienced a distinct + shock. This old man was merely the seed of McCoy, of McCoy of the BOUNTY, + the mutineer fleeing from the hemp that waited him in England, the McCoy + who was a power for evil in the early days of blood and lust and violent + death on Pitcairn Island. + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport was not religious, yet in that moment he felt a mad + impulse to cast himself at the other's feet—and to say he knew not + what. It was an emotion that so deeply stirred him, rather than a coherent + thought, and he was aware in some vague way of his own unworthiness and + smallness in the presence of this other man who possessed the simplicity + of a child and the gentleness of a woman. + </p> + <p> + Of course he could not so humble himself before the eyes of his officers + and men. And yet the anger that had prompted the blasphemy still raged in + him. He suddenly smote the cabin with his clenched hand and cried: + </p> + <p> + “Look here, old man, I won't be beaten. These Paumotus have cheated and + tricked me and made a fool of me. I refuse to be beaten. I am going to + drive this ship, and drive and drive and drive clear through the Paumotus + to China but what I find a bed for her. If every man deserts, I'll stay by + her. I'll show the Paumotus. They can't fool me. She's a good girl, and + I'll stick by her as long as there's a plank to stand on. You hear me?” + </p> + <p> + “And I'll stay with you, Captain,” McCoy said. + </p> + <p> + During the night, light, baffling airs blew out of the south, and the + frantic captain, with his cargo of fire, watched and measured his westward + drift and went off by himself at times to curse softly so that McCoy + should not hear. + </p> + <p> + Daylight showed more palms growing out of the water to the south. + </p> + <p> + “That's the leeward point of Makemo,” McCoy said. “Katiu is only a few + miles to the west. We may make that.” + </p> + <p> + But the current, sucking between the two islands, swept them to the + northwest, and at one in the afternoon they saw the palms of Katiu rise + above the sea and sink back into the sea again. + </p> + <p> + A few minutes later, just as the captain had discovered that a new current + from the northeast had gripped the Pyrenees, the masthead lookouts raised + cocoanut palms in the northwest. + </p> + <p> + “It is Raraka,” said McCoy. “We won't make it without wind. The current is + drawing us down to the southwest. But we must watch out. A few miles + farther on a current flows north and turns in a circle to the northwest. + This will sweep us away from Fakarava, and Fakarava is the place for the + Pyrenees to find her bed.” + </p> + <p> + “They can sweep all they da—all they well please,” Captain Davenport + remarked with heat. “We'll find a bed for her somewhere just the same.” + </p> + <p> + But the situation on the Pyrenees was reaching a culmination. The deck was + so hot that it seemed an increase of a few degrees would cause it to burst + into flames. In many places even the heavy-soled shoes of the men were no + protection, and they were compelled to step lively to avoid scorching + their feet. The smoke had increased and grown more acrid. Every man on + board was suffering from inflamed eyes, and they coughed and strangled + like a crew of tuberculosis patients. In the afternoon the boats were + swung out and equipped. The last several packages of dried bananas were + stored in them, as well as the instruments of the officers. Captain + Davenport even put the chronometer into the longboat, fearing the blowing + up of the deck at any moment. + </p> + <p> + All night this apprehension weighed heavily on all, and in the first + morning light, with hollow eyes and ghastly faces, they stared at one + another as if in surprise that the Pyrenees still held together and that + they still were alive. + </p> + <p> + Walking rapidly at times, and even occasionally breaking into an + undignified hop-skip-and-run, Captain Davenport inspected his ship's deck. + </p> + <p> + “It is a matter of hours now, if not of minutes,” he announced on his + return to the poop. + </p> + <p> + The cry of land came down from the masthead. From the deck the land was + invisible, and McCoy went aloft, while the captain took advantage of the + opportunity to curse some of the bitterness out of his heart. But the + cursing was suddenly stopped by a dark line on the water which he sighted + to the northeast. It was not a squall, but a regular breeze—the + disrupted trade wind, eight points out of its direction but resuming + business once more. + </p> + <p> + “Hold her up, Captain,” McCoy said as soon as he reached the poop. “That's + the easterly point of Fakarava, and we'll go in through the passage + full-tilt, the wind abeam, and every sail drawing.” + </p> + <p> + At the end of an hour, the cocoanut trees and the low-lying land were + visible from the deck. The feeling that the end of the PYRENEES' + resistance was imminent weighed heavily on everybody. Captain Davenport + had the three boats lowered and dropped short astern, a man in each to + keep them apart. The Pyrenees closely skirted the shore, the surf-whitened + atoll a bare two cable lengths away. + </p> + <p> + And a minute later the land parted, exposing a narrow passage and the + lagoon beyond, a great mirror, thirty miles in length and a third as + broad. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Captain.” + </p> + <p> + For the last time the yards of the Pyrenees swung around as she obeyed the + wheel and headed into the passage. The turns had scarcely been made, and + nothing had been coiled down, when the men and mates swept back to the + poop in panic terror. Nothing had happened, yet they averred that + something was going to happen. They could not tell why. They merely knew + that it was about to happen. McCoy started forward to take up his position + on the bow in order to con the vessel in; but the captain gripped his arm + and whirled him around. + </p> + <p> + “Do it from here,” he said. “That deck's not safe. What's the matter?” he + demanded the next instant. “We're standing still.” + </p> + <p> + McCoy smiled. + </p> + <p> + “You are bucking a seven-knot current, Captain,” he said. “That is the way + the full ebb runs out of this passage.” + </p> + <p> + At the end of another hour the Pyrenees had scarcely gained her length, + but the wind freshened and she began to forge ahead. + </p> + <p> + “Better get into the boats, some of you,” Captain Davenport commanded. + </p> + <p> + His voice was still ringing, and the men were just beginning to move in + obedience, when the amidship deck of the Pyrenees, in a mass of flame and + smoke, was flung upward into the sails and rigging, part of it remaining + there and the rest falling into the sea. The wind being abeam, was what + had saved the men crowded aft. They made a blind rush to gain the boats, + but McCoy's voice, carrying its convincing message of vast calm and + endless time, stopped them. + </p> + <p> + “Take it easy,” he was saying. “Everything is all right. Pass that boy + down somebody, please.” + </p> + <p> + The man at the wheel had forsaken it in a funk, and Captain Davenport had + leaped and caught the spokes in time to prevent the ship from yawing in + the current and going ashore. + </p> + <p> + “Better take charge of the boats,” he said to Mr. Konig. “Tow one of them + short, right under the quarter.... When I go over, it'll be on the jump.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Konig hesitated, then went over the rail and lowered himself into the + boat. + </p> + <p> + “Keep her off half a point, Captain.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport gave a start. He had thought he had the ship to himself. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ay; half a point it is,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + Amidships the Pyrenees was an open flaming furnace, out of which poured an + immense volume of smoke which rose high above the masts and completely hid + the forward part of the ship. McCoy, in the shelter of the mizzen-shrouds, + continued his difficult task of conning the ship through the intricate + channel. The fire was working aft along the deck from the seat of + explosion, while the soaring tower of canvas on the mainmast went up and + vanished in a sheet of flame. Forward, though they could not see them, + they knew that the head-sails were still drawing. + </p> + <p> + “If only she don't burn all her canvas off before she makes inside,” the + captain groaned. + </p> + <p> + “She'll make it,” McCoy assured him with supreme confidence. “There is + plenty of time. She is bound to make it. And once inside, we'll put her + before it; that will keep the smoke away from us and hold back the fire + from working aft.” + </p> + <p> + A tongue of flame sprang up the mizzen, reached hungrily for the lowest + tier of canvas, missed it, and vanished. From aloft a burning shred of + rope stuff fell square on the back of Captain Davenport's neck. He acted + with the celerity of one stung by a bee as he reached up and brushed the + offending fire from his skin. + </p> + <p> + “How is she heading, Captain?” + </p> + <p> + “Nor'west by west.” + </p> + <p> + “Keep her west-nor-west.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport put the wheel up and steadied her. + </p> + <p> + “West by north, Captain.” + </p> + <p> + “West by north she is.” + </p> + <p> + “And now west.” + </p> + <p> + Slowly, point by point, as she entered the lagoon, the PYRENEES described + the circle that put her before the wind; and point by point, with all the + calm certitude of a thousand years of time to spare, McCoy chanted the + changing course. + </p> + <p> + “Another point, Captain.” + </p> + <p> + “A point it is.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport whirled several spokes over, suddenly reversing and + coming back one to check her. + </p> + <p> + “Steady.” + </p> + <p> + “Steady she is—right on it.” + </p> + <p> + Despite the fact that the wind was now astern, the heat was so intense + that Captain Davenport was compelled to steal sidelong glances into the + binnacle, letting go the wheel now with one hand, now with the other, to + rub or shield his blistering cheeks. + </p> + <p> + McCoy's beard was crinkling and shriveling and the smell of it, strong in + the other's nostrils, compelled him to look toward McCoy with sudden + solicitude. Captain Davenport was letting go the spokes alternately with + his hands in order to rub their blistering backs against his trousers. + Every sail on the mizzenmast vanished in a rush of flame, compelling the + two men to crouch and shield their faces. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said McCoy, stealing a glance ahead at the low shore, “four points + up, Captain, and let her drive.” + </p> + <p> + Shreds and patches of burning rope and canvas were falling about them and + upon them. The tarry smoke from a smouldering piece of rope at the + captain's feet set him off into a violent coughing fit, during which he + still clung to the spokes. + </p> + <p> + The Pyrenees struck, her bow lifted and she ground ahead gently to a stop. + A shower of burning fragments, dislodged by the shock, fell about them. + The ship moved ahead again and struck a second time. She crushed the + fragile coral under her keel, drove on, and struck a third time. + </p> + <p> + “Hard over,” said McCoy. “Hard over?” he questioned gently, a minute + later. + </p> + <p> + “She won't answer,” was the reply. + </p> + <p> + “All right. She is swinging around.” McCoy peered over the side. “Soft, + white sand. Couldn't ask better. A beautiful bed.” + </p> + <p> + As the Pyrenees swung around her stern away from the wind, a fearful blast + of smoke and flame poured aft. Captain Davenport deserted the wheel in + blistering agony. He reached the painter of the boat that lay under the + quarter, then looked for McCoy, who was standing aside to let him go down. + </p> + <p> + “You first,” the captain cried, gripping him by the shoulder and almost + throwing him over the rail. But the flame and smoke were too terrible, and + he followed hard after McCoy, both men wriggling on the rope and sliding + down into the boat together. A sailor in the bow, without waiting for + orders, slashed the painter through with his sheath knife. The oars, + poised in readiness, bit into the water, and the boat shot away. + </p> + <p> + “A beautiful bed, Captain,” McCoy murmured, looking back. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, a beautiful bed, and all thanks to you,” was the answer. + </p> + <p> + The three boats pulled away for the white beach of pounded coral, beyond + which, on the edge of a cocoanut grove, could be seen a half dozen grass + houses and a score or more of excited natives, gazing wide-eyed at the + conflagration that had come to land. + </p> + <p> + The boats grounded and they stepped out on the white beach. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” said McCoy, “I must see about getting back to Pitcairn.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + <div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1208 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f96fd1a --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #1208 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1208) diff --git a/old/1208-0.txt b/old/1208-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fa71232 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/1208-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5811 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of South Sea Tales, by Jack London + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: South Sea Tales + +Author: Jack London + +Release Date: February, 1998 [EBook #1208] +Last Updated: March 3, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOUTH SEA TALES *** + + + + +Produced by Theresa Armao + + + + + +SOUTH SEA TALES + +By Jack London + + + +CONTENTS + +The House of Mapuhi + +The Whale Tooth + +Mauki + +“Yah! Yah! Yah!” + +The Heathen + +The Terrible Solomons + +The Inevitable White Man + +The Seed of McCoy + + + + +THE HOUSE OF MAPUHI + +Despite the heavy clumsiness of her lines, the Aorai handled easily in +the light breeze, and her captain ran her well in before he hove to just +outside the suck of the surf. The atoll of Hikueru lay low on the water, +a circle of pounded coral sand a hundred yards wide, twenty miles in +circumference, and from three to five feet above high-water mark. On the +bottom of the huge and glassy lagoon was much pearl shell, and from the +deck of the schooner, across the slender ring of the atoll, the divers +could be seen at work. But the lagoon had no entrance for even a trading +schooner. With a favoring breeze cutters could win in through the +tortuous and shallow channel, but the schooners lay off and on outside +and sent in their small boats. + +The Aorai swung out a boat smartly, into which sprang half a dozen +brown-skinned sailors clad only in scarlet loincloths. They took the +oars, while in the stern sheets, at the steering sweep, stood a young +man garbed in the tropic white that marks the European. The golden +strain of Polynesia betrayed itself in the sun-gilt of his fair skin +and cast up golden sheens and lights through the glimmering blue of his +eyes. Raoul he was, Alexandre Raoul, youngest son of Marie Raoul, +the wealthy quarter-caste, who owned and managed half a dozen trading +schooners similar to the Aorai. Across an eddy just outside the +entrance, and in and through and over a boiling tide-rip, the boat +fought its way to the mirrored calm of the lagoon. Young Raoul leaped +out upon the white sand and shook hands with a tall native. The man's +chest and shoulders were magnificent, but the stump of a right arm, +beyond the flesh of which the age-whitened bone projected several +inches, attested the encounter with a shark that had put an end to his +diving days and made him a fawner and an intriguer for small favors. + +“Have you heard, Alec?” were his first words. “Mapuhi has found a +pearl--such a pearl. Never was there one like it ever fished up in +Hikueru, nor in all the Paumotus, nor in all the world. Buy it from him. +He has it now. And remember that I told you first. He is a fool and you +can get it cheap. Have you any tobacco?” + +Straight up the beach to a shack under a pandanus tree Raoul headed. +He was his mother's supercargo, and his business was to comb all the +Paumotus for the wealth of copra, shell, and pearls that they yielded +up. + +He was a young supercargo, it was his second voyage in such capacity, +and he suffered much secret worry from his lack of experience in pricing +pearls. But when Mapuhi exposed the pearl to his sight he managed to +suppress the startle it gave him, and to maintain a careless, commercial +expression on his face. For the pearl had struck him a blow. It was +large as a pigeon egg, a perfect sphere, of a whiteness that reflected +opalescent lights from all colors about it. It was alive. Never had +he seen anything like it. When Mapuhi dropped it into his hand he was +surprised by the weight of it. That showed that it was a good pearl. He +examined it closely, through a pocket magnifying glass. It was without +flaw or blemish. The purity of it seemed almost to melt into the +atmosphere out of his hand. In the shade it was softly luminous, +gleaming like a tender moon. So translucently white was it, that when +he dropped it into a glass of water he had difficulty in finding it. So +straight and swiftly had it sunk to the bottom that he knew its weight +was excellent. + +“Well, what do you want for it?” he asked, with a fine assumption of +nonchalance. + +“I want--” Mapuhi began, and behind him, framing his own dark face, the +dark faces of two women and a girl nodded concurrence in what he wanted. +Their heads were bent forward, they were animated by a suppressed +eagerness, their eyes flashed avariciously. + +“I want a house,” Mapuhi went on. “It must have a roof of galvanized +iron and an octagon-drop-clock. It must be six fathoms long with a porch +all around. A big room must be in the centre, with a round table in the +middle of it and the octagon-drop-clock on the wall. There must be four +bedrooms, two on each side of the big room, and in each bedroom must be +an iron bed, two chairs, and a washstand. And back of the house must be +a kitchen, a good kitchen, with pots and pans and a stove. And you must +build the house on my island, which is Fakarava.” + +“Is that all?” Raoul asked incredulously. + +“There must be a sewing machine,” spoke up Tefara, Mapuhi's wife. + +“Not forgetting the octagon-drop-clock,” added Nauri, Mapuhi's mother. + +“Yes, that is all,” said Mapuhi. + +Young Raoul laughed. He laughed long and heartily. But while he laughed +he secretly performed problems in mental arithmetic. He had never built +a house in his life, and his notions concerning house building were +hazy. While he laughed, he calculated the cost of the voyage to Tahiti +for materials, of the materials themselves, of the voyage back again +to Fakarava, and the cost of landing the materials and of building the +house. It would come to four thousand French dollars, allowing a margin +for safety--four thousand French dollars were equivalent to twenty +thousand francs. It was impossible. How was he to know the value of such +a pearl? Twenty thousand francs was a lot of money--and of his mother's +money at that. + +“Mapuhi,” he said, “you are a big fool. Set a money price.” + +But Mapuhi shook his head, and the three heads behind him shook with +his. + +“I want the house,” he said. “It must be six fathoms long with a porch +all around--” + +“Yes, yes,” Raoul interrupted. “I know all about your house, but it +won't do. I'll give you a thousand Chili dollars.” + +The four heads chorused a silent negative. + +“And a hundred Chili dollars in trade.” + +“I want the house,” Mapuhi began. + +“What good will the house do you?” Raoul demanded. “The first hurricane +that comes along will wash it away. You ought to know.” + +“Captain Raffy says it looks like a hurricane right now.” + +“Not on Fakarava,” said Mapuhi. “The land is much higher there. On this +island, yes. Any hurricane can sweep Hikueru. I will have the house on +Fakarava. It must be six fathoms long with a porch all around--” + +And Raoul listened again to the tale of the house. Several hours he +spent in the endeavor to hammer the house obsession out of Mapuhi's +mind; but Mapuhi's mother and wife, and Ngakura, Mapuhi's daughter, +bolstered him in his resolve for the house. Through the open doorway, +while he listened for the twentieth time to the detailed description of +the house that was wanted, Raoul saw his schooner's second boat draw up +on the beach. The sailors rested on the oars, advertising haste to be +gone. The first mate of the Aorai sprang ashore, exchanged a word with +the one-armed native, then hurried toward Raoul. The day grew suddenly +dark, as a squall obscured the face of the sun. Across the lagoon Raoul +could see approaching the ominous line of the puff of wind. + +“Captain Raffy says you've got to get to hell outa here,” was the mate's +greeting. “If there's any shell, we've got to run the risk of +picking it up later on--so he says. The barometer's dropped to +twenty-nine-seventy.” + +The gust of wind struck the pandanus tree overhead and tore through the +palms beyond, flinging half a dozen ripe cocoanuts with heavy thuds to +the ground. Then came the rain out of the distance, advancing with the +roar of a gale of wind and causing the water of the lagoon to smoke in +driven windrows. The sharp rattle of the first drops was on the leaves +when Raoul sprang to his feet. + +“A thousand Chili dollars, cash down, Mapuhi,” he said. “And two hundred +Chili dollars in trade.” + +“I want a house--” the other began. + +“Mapuhi!” Raoul yelled, in order to make himself heard. “You are a +fool!” + +He flung out of the house, and, side by side with the mate, fought his +way down the beach toward the boat. They could not see the boat. The +tropic rain sheeted about them so that they could see only the beach +under their feet and the spiteful little waves from the lagoon that +snapped and bit at the sand. A figure appeared through the deluge. It +was Huru-Huru, the man with the one arm. + +“Did you get the pearl?” he yelled in Raoul's ear. + +“Mapuhi is a fool!” was the answering yell, and the next moment they +were lost to each other in the descending water. + +Half an hour later, Huru-Huru, watching from the seaward side of the +atoll, saw the two boats hoisted in and the Aorai pointing her nose +out to sea. And near her, just come in from the sea on the wings of the +squall, he saw another schooner hove to and dropping a boat into the +water. He knew her. It was the OROHENA, owned by Toriki, the half-caste +trader, who served as his own supercargo and who doubtlessly was even +then in the stern sheets of the boat. Huru-Huru chuckled. He knew that +Mapuhi owed Toriki for trade goods advanced the year before. + +The squall had passed. The hot sun was blazing down, and the lagoon was +once more a mirror. But the air was sticky like mucilage, and the weight +of it seemed to burden the lungs and make breathing difficult. + +“Have you heard the news, Toriki?” Huru-Huru asked. “Mapuhi has found +a pearl. Never was there a pearl like it ever fished up in Hikueru, nor +anywhere in the Paumotus, nor anywhere in all the world. Mapuhi is a +fool. Besides, he owes you money. Remember that I told you first. Have +you any tobacco?” + +And to the grass shack of Mapuhi went Toriki. He was a masterful man, +withal a fairly stupid one. Carelessly he glanced at the wonderful +pearl--glanced for a moment only; and carelessly he dropped it into his +pocket. + +“You are lucky,” he said. “It is a nice pearl. I will give you credit on +the books.” + +“I want a house,” Mapuhi began, in consternation. “It must be six +fathoms--” + +“Six fathoms your grandmother!” was the trader's retort. “You want to +pay up your debts, that's what you want. You owed me twelve hundred +dollars Chili. Very well; you owe them no longer. The amount is squared. +Besides, I will give you credit for two hundred Chili. If, when I get +to Tahiti, the pearl sells well, I will give you credit for another +hundred--that will make three hundred. But mind, only if the pearl sells +well. I may even lose money on it.” + +Mapuhi folded his arms in sorrow and sat with bowed head. He had been +robbed of his pearl. In place of the house, he had paid a debt. There +was nothing to show for the pearl. + +“You are a fool,” said Tefara. + +“You are a fool,” said Nauri, his mother. “Why did you let the pearl +into his hand?” + +“What was I to do?” Mapuhi protested. “I owed him the money. He knew I +had the pearl. You heard him yourself ask to see it. I had not told him. +He knew. Somebody else told him. And I owed him the money.” + +“Mapuhi is a fool,” mimicked Ngakura. + +She was twelve years old and did not know any better. Mapuhi relieved +his feelings by sending her reeling from a box on the ear; while Tefara +and Nauri burst into tears and continued to upbraid him after the manner +of women. + +Huru-Huru, watching on the beach, saw a third schooner that he knew +heave to outside the entrance and drop a boat. It was the Hira, well +named, for she was owned by Levy, the German Jew, the greatest pearl +buyer of them all, and, as was well known, Hira was the Tahitian god of +fishermen and thieves. + +“Have you heard the news?” Huru-Huru asked, as Levy, a fat man with +massive asymmetrical features, stepped out upon the beach. “Mapuhi has +found a pearl. There was never a pearl like it in Hikueru, in all the +Paumotus, in all the world. Mapuhi is a fool. He has sold it to Toriki +for fourteen hundred Chili--I listened outside and heard. Toriki is +likewise a fool. You can buy it from him cheap. Remember that I told you +first. Have you any tobacco?” + +“Where is Toriki?” + +“In the house of Captain Lynch, drinking absinthe. He has been there an +hour.” + +And while Levy and Toriki drank absinthe and chaffered over the pearl, +Huru-Huru listened and heard the stupendous price of twenty-five +thousand francs agreed upon. + +It was at this time that both the OROHENA and the Hira, running in close +to the shore, began firing guns and signalling frantically. The three +men stepped outside in time to see the two schooners go hastily about +and head off shore, dropping mainsails and flying jibs on the run in +the teeth of the squall that heeled them far over on the whitened water. +Then the rain blotted them out. + +“They'll be back after it's over,” said Toriki. “We'd better be getting +out of here.” + +“I reckon the glass has fallen some more,” said Captain Lynch. + +He was a white-bearded sea-captain, too old for service, who had learned +that the only way to live on comfortable terms with his asthma was on +Hikueru. He went inside to look at the barometer. + +“Great God!” they heard him exclaim, and rushed in to join him at +staring at a dial, which marked twenty-nine-twenty. + +Again they came out, this time anxiously to consult sea and sky. +The squall had cleared away, but the sky remained overcast. The two +schooners, under all sail and joined by a third, could be seen making +back. A veer in the wind induced them to slack off sheets, and five +minutes afterward a sudden veer from the opposite quarter caught all +three schooners aback, and those on shore could see the boom-tackles +being slacked away or cast off on the jump. The sound of the surf was +loud, hollow, and menacing, and a heavy swell was setting in. A terrible +sheet of lightning burst before their eyes, illuminating the dark day, +and the thunder rolled wildly about them. + +Toriki and Levy broke into a run for their boats, the latter ambling +along like a panic-stricken hippopotamus. As their two boats swept out +the entrance, they passed the boat of the Aorai coming in. In the stern +sheets, encouraging the rowers, was Raoul. Unable to shake the vision of +the pearl from his mind, he was returning to accept Mapuhi's price of a +house. + +He landed on the beach in the midst of a driving thunder squall that was +so dense that he collided with Huru-Huru before he saw him. + +“Too late,” yelled Huru-Huru. “Mapuhi sold it to Toriki for fourteen +hundred Chili, and Toriki sold it to Levy for twenty-five thousand +francs. And Levy will sell it in France for a hundred thousand francs. +Have you any tobacco?” + +Raoul felt relieved. His troubles about the pearl were over. He need not +worry any more, even if he had not got the pearl. But he did not believe +Huru-Huru. Mapuhi might well have sold it for fourteen hundred Chili, +but that Levy, who knew pearls, should have paid twenty-five thousand +francs was too wide a stretch. Raoul decided to interview Captain Lynch +on the subject, but when he arrived at that ancient mariner's house, he +found him looking wide-eyed at the barometer. + +“What do you read it?” Captain Lynch asked anxiously, rubbing his +spectacles and staring again at the instrument. + +“Twenty-nine-ten,” said Raoul. “I have never seen it so low before.” + +“I should say not!” snorted the captain. “Fifty years boy and man on all +the seas, and I've never seen it go down to that. Listen!” + +They stood for a moment, while the surf rumbled and shook the house. +Then they went outside. The squall had passed. They could see the +Aorai lying becalmed a mile away and pitching and tossing madly in +the tremendous seas that rolled in stately procession down out of the +northeast and flung themselves furiously upon the coral shore. One of +the sailors from the boat pointed at the mouth of the passage and shook +his head. Raoul looked and saw a white anarchy of foam and surge. + +“I guess I'll stay with you tonight, Captain,” he said; then turned to +the sailor and told him to haul the boat out and to find shelter for +himself and fellows. + +“Twenty-nine flat,” Captain Lynch reported, coming out from another look +at the barometer, a chair in his hand. + +He sat down and stared at the spectacle of the sea. The sun came out, +increasing the sultriness of the day, while the dead calm still held. +The seas continued to increase in magnitude. + +“What makes that sea is what gets me,” Raoul muttered petulantly. + +“There is no wind, yet look at it, look at that fellow there!” + +Miles in length, carrying tens of thousands of tons in weight, its +impact shook the frail atoll like an earthquake. Captain Lynch was +startled. + +“Gracious!” he bellowed, half rising from his chair, then sinking back. + +“But there is no wind,” Raoul persisted. “I could understand it if there +was wind along with it.” + +“You'll get the wind soon enough without worryin' for it,” was the grim +reply. + +The two men sat on in silence. The sweat stood out on their skin in +myriads of tiny drops that ran together, forming blotches of moisture, +which, in turn, coalesced into rivulets that dripped to the ground. They +panted for breath, the old man's efforts being especially painful. A +sea swept up the beach, licking around the trunks of the cocoanuts and +subsiding almost at their feet. + +“Way past high water mark,” Captain Lynch remarked; “and I've been here +eleven years.” He looked at his watch. “It is three o'clock.” + +A man and woman, at their heels a motley following of brats and curs, +trailed disconsolately by. They came to a halt beyond the house, and, +after much irresolution, sat down in the sand. A few minutes later +another family trailed in from the opposite direction, the men and women +carrying a heterogeneous assortment of possessions. And soon several +hundred persons of all ages and sexes were congregated about the +captain's dwelling. He called to one new arrival, a woman with a nursing +babe in her arms, and in answer received the information that her house +had just been swept into the lagoon. + +This was the highest spot of land in miles, and already, in many places +on either hand, the great seas were making a clean breach of the slender +ring of the atoll and surging into the lagoon. Twenty miles around +stretched the ring of the atoll, and in no place was it more than fifty +fathoms wide. It was the height of the diving season, and from all the +islands around, even as far as Tahiti, the natives had gathered. + +“There are twelve hundred men, women, and children here,” said Captain +Lynch. “I wonder how many will be here tomorrow morning.” + +“But why don't it blow?--that's what I want to know,” Raoul demanded. + +“Don't worry, young man, don't worry; you'll get your troubles fast +enough.” + +Even as Captain Lynch spoke, a great watery mass smote the atoll. + +The sea water churned about them three inches deep under the chairs. A +low wail of fear went up from the many women. The children, with clasped +hands, stared at the immense rollers and cried piteously. Chickens and +cats, wading perturbedly in the water, as by common consent, with flight +and scramble took refuge on the roof of the captain's house. A Paumotan, +with a litter of new-born puppies in a basket, climbed into a cocoanut +tree and twenty feet above the ground made the basket fast. The mother +floundered about in the water beneath, whining and yelping. + +And still the sun shone brightly and the dead calm continued. They sat +and watched the seas and the insane pitching of the Aorai. Captain Lynch +gazed at the huge mountains of water sweeping in until he could gaze +no more. He covered his face with his hands to shut out the sight; then +went into the house. + +“Twenty-eight-sixty,” he said quietly when he returned. + +In his arm was a coil of small rope. He cut it into two-fathom lengths, +giving one to Raoul and, retaining one for himself, distributed the +remainder among the women with the advice to pick out a tree and climb. + +A light air began to blow out of the northeast, and the fan of it on +his cheek seemed to cheer Raoul up. He could see the Aorai trimming her +sheets and heading off shore, and he regretted that he was not on her. +She would get away at any rate, but as for the atoll--A sea breached +across, almost sweeping him off his feet, and he selected a tree. Then +he remembered the barometer and ran back to the house. He encountered +Captain Lynch on the same errand and together they went in. + +“Twenty-eight-twenty,” said the old mariner. “It's going to be fair hell +around here--what was that?” + +The air seemed filled with the rush of something. The house quivered and +vibrated, and they heard the thrumming of a mighty note of sound. The +windows rattled. Two panes crashed; a draught of wind tore in, striking +them and making them stagger. The door opposite banged shut, shattering +the latch. The white door knob crumbled in fragments to the floor. +The room's walls bulged like a gas balloon in the process of sudden +inflation. Then came a new sound like the rattle of musketry, as the +spray from a sea struck the wall of the house. Captain Lynch looked +at his watch. It was four o'clock. He put on a coat of pilot cloth, +unhooked the barometer, and stowed it away in a capacious pocket. +Again a sea struck the house, with a heavy thud, and the light building +tilted, twisted, quarter around on its foundation, and sank down, its +floor at an angle of ten degrees. + +Raoul went out first. The wind caught him and whirled him away. He noted +that it had hauled around to the east. With a great effort he threw +himself on the sand, crouching and holding his own. Captain Lynch, +driven like a wisp of straw, sprawled over him. Two of the Aorai's +sailors, leaving a cocoanut tree to which they had been clinging, came +to their aid, leaning against the wind at impossible angles and fighting +and clawing every inch of the way. + +The old man's joints were stiff and he could not climb, so the sailors, +by means of short ends of rope tied together, hoisted him up the trunk, +a few feet at a time, till they could make him fast, at the top of the +tree, fifty feet from the ground. Raoul passed his length of rope +around the base of an adjacent tree and stood looking on. The wind was +frightful. He had never dreamed it could blow so hard. A sea breached +across the atoll, wetting him to the knees ere it subsided into the +lagoon. The sun had disappeared, and a lead-colored twilight settled +down. A few drops of rain, driving horizontally, struck him. The impact +was like that of leaden pellets. A splash of salt spray struck his face. +It was like the slap of a man's hand. His cheeks stung, and involuntary +tears of pain were in his smarting eyes. Several hundred natives had +taken to the trees, and he could have laughed at the bunches of human +fruit clustering in the tops. Then, being Tahitian-born, he doubled his +body at the waist, clasped the trunk of his tree with his hands, pressed +the soles of his feet against the near surface of the trunk, and began +to walk up the tree. At the top he found two women, two children, and a +man. One little girl clasped a housecat in her arms. + +From his eyrie he waved his hand to Captain Lynch, and that doughty +patriarch waved back. Raoul was appalled at the sky. It had approached +much nearer--in fact, it seemed just over his head; and it had turned +from lead to black. Many people were still on the ground grouped about +the bases of the trees and holding on. Several such clusters were +praying, and in one the Mormon missionary was exhorting. A weird sound, +rhythmical, faint as the faintest chirp of a far cricket, enduring but +for a moment, but in the moment suggesting to him vaguely the thought +of heaven and celestial music, came to his ear. He glanced about him and +saw, at the base of another tree, a large cluster of people holding on +by ropes and by one another. He could see their faces working and their +lips moving in unison. No sound came to him, but he knew that they were +singing hymns. + +Still the wind continued to blow harder. By no conscious process could +he measure it, for it had long since passed beyond all his experience of +wind; but he knew somehow, nevertheless, that it was blowing harder. Not +far away a tree was uprooted, flinging its load of human beings to +the ground. A sea washed across the strip of sand, and they were gone. +Things were happening quickly. He saw a brown shoulder and a black head +silhouetted against the churning white of the lagoon. The next +instant that, too, had vanished. Other trees were going, falling and +criss-crossing like matches. He was amazed at the power of the wind. His +own tree was swaying perilously, one woman was wailing and clutching the +little girl, who in turn still hung on to the cat. + +The man, holding the other child, touched Raoul's arm and pointed. He +looked and saw the Mormon church careering drunkenly a hundred feet +away. It had been torn from its foundations, and wind and sea were +heaving and shoving it toward the lagoon. A frightful wall of water +caught it, tilted it, and flung it against half a dozen cocoanut trees. +The bunches of human fruit fell like ripe cocoanuts. The subsiding wave +showed them on the ground, some lying motionless, others squirming and +writhing. They reminded him strangely of ants. He was not shocked. +He had risen above horror. Quite as a matter of course he noted the +succeeding wave sweep the sand clean of the human wreckage. A third +wave, more colossal than any he had yet seen, hurled the church into +the lagoon, where it floated off into the obscurity to leeward, +half-submerged, reminding him for all the world of a Noah's ark. + +He looked for Captain Lynch's house, and was surprised to find it gone. +Things certainly were happening quickly. He noticed that many of the +people in the trees that still held had descended to the ground. The +wind had yet again increased. His own tree showed that. It no longer +swayed or bent over and back. Instead, it remained practically +stationary, curved in a rigid angle from the wind and merely vibrating. +But the vibration was sickening. It was like that of a tuning-fork or +the tongue of a jew's-harp. It was the rapidity of the vibration that +made it so bad. Even though its roots held, it could not stand the +strain for long. Something would have to break. + +Ah, there was one that had gone. He had not seen it go, but there it +stood, the remnant, broken off half-way up the trunk. One did not know +what happened unless he saw it. The mere crashing of trees and wails +of human despair occupied no place in that mighty volume of sound. He +chanced to be looking in Captain Lynch's direction when it happened. He +saw the trunk of the tree, half-way up, splinter and part without +noise. The head of the tree, with three sailors of the Aorai and the old +captain sailed off over the lagoon. It did not fall to the ground, but +drove through the air like a piece of chaff. For a hundred yards he +followed its flight, when it struck the water. He strained his eyes, and +was sure that he saw Captain Lynch wave farewell. + +Raoul did not wait for anything more. He touched the native and made +signs to descend to the ground. The man was willing, but his women were +paralyzed from terror, and he elected to remain with them. Raoul passed +his rope around the tree and slid down. A rush of salt water went over +his head. He held his breath and clung desperately to the rope. The +water subsided, and in the shelter of the trunk he breathed once more. +He fastened the rope more securely, and then was put under by another +sea. One of the women slid down and joined him, the native remaining by +the other woman, the two children, and the cat. + +The supercargo had noticed how the groups clinging at the bases of the +other trees continually diminished. Now he saw the process work out +alongside him. It required all his strength to hold on, and the woman +who had joined him was growing weaker. Each time he emerged from a sea +he was surprised to find himself still there, and next, surprised to +find the woman still there. At last he emerged to find himself alone. +He looked up. The top of the tree had gone as well. At half its original +height, a splintered end vibrated. He was safe. The roots still held, +while the tree had been shorn of its windage. He began to climb up. He +was so weak that he went slowly, and sea after sea caught him before he +was above them. Then he tied himself to the trunk and stiffened his soul +to face the night and he knew not what. + +He felt very lonely in the darkness. At times it seemed to him that it +was the end of the world and that he was the last one left alive. Still +the wind increased. Hour after hour it increased. By what he calculated +was eleven o'clock, the wind had become unbelievable. It was a horrible, +monstrous thing, a screaming fury, a wall that smote and passed on but +that continued to smite and pass on--a wall without end. It seemed to +him that he had become light and ethereal; that it was he that was in +motion; that he was being driven with inconceivable velocity through +unending solidness. The wind was no longer air in motion. It had become +substantial as water or quicksilver. He had a feeling that he could +reach into it and tear it out in chunks as one might do with the meat in +the carcass of a steer; that he could seize hold of the wind and hang on +to it as a man might hang on to the face of a cliff. + +The wind strangled him. He could not face it and breathe, for it rushed +in through his mouth and nostrils, distending his lungs like bladders. +At such moments it seemed to him that his body was being packed and +swollen with solid earth. Only by pressing his lips to the trunk of the +tree could he breathe. Also, the ceaseless impact of the wind exhausted +him. Body and brain became wearied. He no longer observed, no +longer thought, and was but semiconscious. One idea constituted +his consciousness: SO THIS WAS A HURRICANE. That one idea persisted +irregularly. It was like a feeble flame that flickered occasionally. +From a state of stupor he would return to it--SO THIS WAS A HURRICANE. +Then he would go off into another stupor. + +The height of the hurricane endured from eleven at night till three in +the morning, and it was at eleven that the tree in which clung Mapuhi +and his women snapped off. Mapuhi rose to the surface of the lagoon, +still clutching his daughter Ngakura. Only a South Sea islander could +have lived in such a driving smother. The pandanus tree, to which he +attached himself, turned over and over in the froth and churn; and it +was only by holding on at times and waiting, and at other times shifting +his grips rapidly, that he was able to get his head and Ngakura's to the +surface at intervals sufficiently near together to keep the breath in +them. But the air was mostly water, what with flying spray and sheeted +rain that poured along at right angles to the perpendicular. + +It was ten miles across the lagoon to the farther ring of sand. Here, +tossing tree trunks, timbers, wrecks of cutters, and wreckage of houses, +killed nine out of ten of the miserable beings who survived the passage +of the lagoon. Half-drowned, exhausted, they were hurled into this mad +mortar of the elements and battered into formless flesh. But Mapuhi was +fortunate. His chance was the one in ten; it fell to him by the freakage +of fate. He emerged upon the sand, bleeding from a score of wounds. + +Ngakura's left arm was broken; the fingers of her right hand were +crushed; and cheek and forehead were laid open to the bone. He clutched +a tree that yet stood, and clung on, holding the girl and sobbing for +air, while the waters of the lagoon washed by knee-high and at times +waist-high. + +At three in the morning the backbone of the hurricane broke. By five no +more than a stiff breeze was blowing. And by six it was dead calm and +the sun was shining. The sea had gone down. On the yet restless edge of +the lagoon, Mapuhi saw the broken bodies of those that had failed in the +landing. Undoubtedly Tefara and Nauri were among them. He went along the +beach examining them, and came upon his wife, lying half in and half out +of the water. He sat down and wept, making harsh animal noises after the +manner of primitive grief. Then she stirred uneasily, and groaned. He +looked more closely. Not only was she alive, but she was uninjured. She +was merely sleeping. Hers also had been the one chance in ten. + +Of the twelve hundred alive the night before but three hundred remained. +The Mormon missionary and a gendarme made the census. The lagoon was +cluttered with corpses. Not a house nor a hut was standing. In the whole +atoll not two stones remained one upon another. One in fifty of the +cocoanut palms still stood, and they were wrecks, while on not one of +them remained a single nut. + +There was no fresh water. The shallow wells that caught the surface +seepage of the rain were filled with salt. Out of the lagoon a few +soaked bags of flour were recovered. The survivors cut the hearts out of +the fallen cocoanut trees and ate them. Here and there they crawled +into tiny hutches, made by hollowing out the sand and covering over with +fragments of metal roofing. The missionary made a crude still, but he +could not distill water for three hundred persons. By the end of the +second day, Raoul, taking a bath in the lagoon, discovered that his +thirst was somewhat relieved. He cried out the news, and thereupon three +hundred men, women, and children could have been seen, standing up to +their necks in the lagoon and trying to drink water in through their +skins. Their dead floated about them, or were stepped upon where they +still lay upon the bottom. On the third day the people buried their dead +and sat down to wait for the rescue steamers. + +In the meantime, Nauri, torn from her family by the hurricane, had been +swept away on an adventure of her own. Clinging to a rough plank that +wounded and bruised her and that filled her body with splinters, she +was thrown clear over the atoll and carried away to sea. Here, under the +amazing buffets of mountains of water, she lost her plank. She was an +old woman nearly sixty; but she was Paumotan-born, and she had never +been out of sight of the sea in her life. Swimming in the darkness, +strangling, suffocating, fighting for air, she was struck a heavy blow +on the shoulder by a cocoanut. On the instant her plan was formed, +and she seized the nut. In the next hour she captured seven more. Tied +together, they formed a life-buoy that preserved her life while at the +same time it threatened to pound her to a jelly. She was a fat woman, +and she bruised easily; but she had had experience of hurricanes, and +while she prayed to her shark god for protection from sharks, she waited +for the wind to break. But at three o'clock she was in such a stupor +that she did not know. Nor did she know at six o'clock when the dead +calm settled down. She was shocked into consciousness when she was +thrown upon the sand. She dug in with raw and bleeding hands and feet +and clawed against the backwash until she was beyond the reach of the +waves. + +She knew where she was. This land could be no other than the tiny islet +of Takokota. It had no lagoon. No one lived upon it. + +Hikueru was fifteen miles away. She could not see Hikueru, but she +knew that it lay to the south. The days went by, and she lived on the +cocoanuts that had kept her afloat. They supplied her with drinking +water and with food. But she did not drink all she wanted, nor eat all +she wanted. Rescue was problematical. She saw the smoke of the rescue +steamers on the horizon, but what steamer could be expected to come to +lonely, uninhabited Takokota? + +From the first she was tormented by corpses. The sea persisted in +flinging them upon her bit of sand, and she persisted, until her +strength failed, in thrusting them back into the sea where the sharks +tore at them and devoured them. When her strength failed, the bodies +festooned her beach with ghastly horror, and she withdrew from them as +far as she could, which was not far. + +By the tenth day her last cocoanut was gone, and she was shrivelling +from thirst. She dragged herself along the sand, looking for cocoanuts. +It was strange that so many bodies floated up, and no nuts. Surely, +there were more cocoanuts afloat than dead men! She gave up at last, and +lay exhausted. The end had come. Nothing remained but to wait for death. + +Coming out of a stupor, she became slowly aware that she was gazing at a +patch of sandy-red hair on the head of a corpse. The sea flung the body +toward her, then drew it back. It turned over, and she saw that it had +no face. Yet there was something familiar about that patch of +sandy-red hair. An hour passed. She did not exert herself to make the +identification. She was waiting to die, and it mattered little to her +what man that thing of horror once might have been. + +But at the end of the hour she sat up slowly and stared at the corpse. +An unusually large wave had thrown it beyond the reach of the lesser +waves. Yes, she was right; that patch of red hair could belong to but +one man in the Paumotus. It was Levy, the German Jew, the man who had +bought the pearl and carried it away on the Hira. Well, one thing was +evident: The Hira had been lost. The pearl buyer's god of fishermen and +thieves had gone back on him. + +She crawled down to the dead man. His shirt had been torn away, and she +could see the leather money belt about his waist. She held her breath +and tugged at the buckles. They gave easier than she had expected, and +she crawled hurriedly away across the sand, dragging the belt after her. +Pocket after pocket she unbuckled in the belt and found empty. Where +could he have put it? In the last pocket of all she found it, the first +and only pearl he had bought on the voyage. She crawled a few feet +farther, to escape the pestilence of the belt, and examined the pearl. +It was the one Mapuhi had found and been robbed of by Toriki. She +weighed it in her hand and rolled it back and forth caressingly. But in +it she saw no intrinsic beauty. What she did see was the house Mapuhi +and Tefara and she had builded so carefully in their minds. Each time +she looked at the pearl she saw the house in all its details, including +the octagon-drop-clock on the wall. That was something to live for. + +She tore a strip from her ahu and tied the pearl securely about her +neck. Then she went on along the beach, panting and groaning, but +resolutely seeking for cocoanuts. Quickly she found one, and, as she +glanced around, a second. She broke one, drinking its water, which was +mildewy, and eating the last particle of the meat. A little later she +found a shattered dugout. Its outrigger was gone, but she was hopeful, +and, before the day was out, she found the outrigger. Every find was an +augury. The pearl was a talisman. Late in the afternoon she saw a wooden +box floating low in the water. When she dragged it out on the beach its +contents rattled, and inside she found ten tins of salmon. She opened +one by hammering it on the canoe. When a leak was started, she drained +the tin. After that she spent several hours in extracting the salmon, +hammering and squeezing it out a morsel at a time. + +Eight days longer she waited for rescue. In the meantime she fastened +the outrigger back on the canoe, using for lashings all the cocoanut +fibre she could find, and also what remained of her ahu. The canoe was +badly cracked, and she could not make it water-tight; but a calabash +made from a cocoanut she stored on board for a bailer. She was hard put +for a paddle. With a piece of tin she sawed off all her hair close to +the scalp. Out of the hair she braided a cord; and by means of the cord +she lashed a three-foot piece of broom handle to a board from the salmon +case. + +She gnawed wedges with her teeth and with them wedged the lashing. + +On the eighteenth day, at midnight, she launched the canoe through the +surf and started back for Hikueru. She was an old woman. Hardship had +stripped her fat from her till scarcely more than bones and skin and a +few stringy muscles remained. The canoe was large and should have been +paddled by three strong men. + +But she did it alone, with a make-shift paddle. Also, the canoe leaked +badly, and one-third of her time was devoted to bailing. By clear +daylight she looked vainly for Hikueru. Astern, Takokota had sunk +beneath the sea rim. The sun blazed down on her nakedness, compelling +her body to surrender its moisture. Two tins of salmon were left, and in +the course of the day she battered holes in them and drained the liquid. +She had no time to waste in extracting the meat. A current was setting +to the westward, she made westing whether she made southing or not. + +In the early afternoon, standing upright in the canoe, she sighted +Hikueru. Its wealth of cocoanut palms was gone. Only here and there, at +wide intervals, could she see the ragged remnants of trees. The sight +cheered her. She was nearer than she had thought. The current was +setting her to the westward. She bore up against it and paddled on. The +wedges in the paddle lashing worked loose, and she lost much time, at +frequent intervals, in driving them tight. Then there was the bailing. +One hour in three she had to cease paddling in order to bail. And all +the time she drifted to the westward. + +By sunset Hikueru bore southeast from her, three miles away. There was +a full moon, and by eight o'clock the land was due east and two miles +away. She struggled on for another hour, but the land was as far away as +ever. She was in the main grip of the current; the canoe was too large; +the paddle was too inadequate; and too much of her time and strength +was wasted in bailing. Besides, she was very weak and growing weaker. +Despite her efforts, the canoe was drifting off to the westward. + +She breathed a prayer to her shark god, slipped over the side, and began +to swim. She was actually refreshed by the water, and quickly left the +canoe astern. At the end of an hour the land was perceptibly nearer. +Then came her fright. Right before her eyes, not twenty feet away, a +large fin cut the water. She swam steadily toward it, and slowly it +glided away, curving off toward the right and circling around her. She +kept her eyes on the fin and swam on. When the fin disappeared, she +lay face downward in the water and watched. When the fin reappeared she +resumed her swimming. The monster was lazy--she could see that. Without +doubt he had been well fed since the hurricane. Had he been very hungry, +she knew he would not have hesitated from making a dash for her. He was +fifteen feet long, and one bite, she knew, could cut her in half. + +But she did not have any time to waste on him. Whether she swam or not, +the current drew away from the land just the same. A half hour went +by, and the shark began to grow bolder. Seeing no harm in her he drew +closer, in narrowing circles, cocking his eyes at her impudently as +he slid past. Sooner or later, she knew well enough, he would get up +sufficient courage to dash at her. She resolved to play first. It was a +desperate act she meditated. She was an old woman, alone in the sea and +weak from starvation and hardship; and yet she, in the face of this sea +tiger, must anticipate his dash by herself dashing at him. She swam on, +waiting her chance. At last he passed languidly by, barely eight feet +away. She rushed at him suddenly, feigning that she was attacking him. +He gave a wild flirt of his tail as he fled away, and his sandpaper +hide, striking her, took off her skin from elbow to shoulder. He swam +rapidly, in a widening circle, and at last disappeared. + +In the hole in the sand, covered over by fragments of metal roofing, +Mapuhi and Tefara lay disputing. + +“If you had done as I said,” charged Tefara, for the thousandth time, +“and hidden the pearl and told no one, you would have it now.” + +“But Huru-Huru was with me when I opened the shell--have I not told you +so times and times and times without end?” + +“And now we shall have no house. Raoul told me today that if you had not +sold the pearl to Toriki--” + +“I did not sell it. Toriki robbed me.” + +“--that if you had not sold the pearl, he would give you five thousand +French dollars, which is ten thousand Chili.” + +“He has been talking to his mother,” Mapuhi explained. “She has an eye +for a pearl.” + +“And now the pearl is lost,” Tefara complained. + +“It paid my debt with Toriki. That is twelve hundred I have made, +anyway.” + +“Toriki is dead,” she cried. “They have heard no word of his schooner. +She was lost along with the Aorai and the Hira. Will Toriki pay you the +three hundred credit he promised? No, because Toriki is dead. And had +you found no pearl, would you today owe Toriki the twelve hundred? No, +because Toriki is dead, and you cannot pay dead men.” + +“But Levy did not pay Toriki,” Mapuhi said. “He gave him a piece of +paper that was good for the money in Papeete; and now Levy is dead and +cannot pay; and Toriki is dead and the paper lost with him, and the +pearl is lost with Levy. You are right, Tefara. I have lost the pearl, +and got nothing for it. Now let us sleep.” + +He held up his hand suddenly and listened. From without came a noise, +as of one who breathed heavily and with pain. A hand fumbled against the +mat that served for a door. + +“Who is there?” Mapuhi cried. + +“Nauri,” came the answer. “Can you tell me where is my son, Mapuhi?” + +Tefara screamed and gripped her husband's arm. + +“A ghost!” she chattered. “A ghost!” + +Mapuhi's face was a ghastly yellow. He clung weakly to his wife. + +“Good woman,” he said in faltering tones, striving to disguise his vice, +“I know your son well. He is living on the east side of the lagoon.” + +From without came the sound of a sigh. Mapuhi began to feel elated. He +had fooled the ghost. + +“But where do you come from, old woman?” he asked. + +“From the sea,” was the dejected answer. + +“I knew it! I knew it!” screamed Tefara, rocking to and fro. + +“Since when has Tefara bedded in a strange house?” came Nauri's voice +through the matting. + +Mapuhi looked fear and reproach at his wife. It was her voice that had +betrayed them. + +“And since when has Mapuhi, my son, denied his old mother?” the voice +went on. + +“No, no, I have not--Mapuhi has not denied you,” he cried. “I am not +Mapuhi. He is on the east end of the lagoon, I tell you.” + +Ngakura sat up in bed and began to cry. The matting started to shake. + +“What are you doing?” Mapuhi demanded. + +“I am coming in,” said the voice of Nauri. + +One end of the matting lifted. Tefara tried to dive under the blankets, +but Mapuhi held on to her. He had to hold on to something. Together, +struggling with each other, with shivering bodies and chattering teeth, +they gazed with protruding eyes at the lifting mat. They saw Nauri, +dripping with sea water, without her ahu, creep in. They rolled over +backward from her and fought for Ngakura's blanket with which to cover +their heads. + +“You might give your old mother a drink of water,” the ghost said +plaintively. + +“Give her a drink of water,” Tefara commanded in a shaking voice. + +“Give her a drink of water,” Mapuhi passed on the command to Ngakura. + +And together they kicked out Ngakura from under the blanket. A minute +later, peeping, Mapuhi saw the ghost drinking. When it reached out +a shaking hand and laid it on his, he felt the weight of it and was +convinced that it was no ghost. Then he emerged, dragging Tefara after +him, and in a few minutes all were listening to Nauri's tale. And when +she told of Levy, and dropped the pearl into Tefara's hand, even she was +reconciled to the reality of her mother-in-law. + +“In the morning,” said Tefara, “you will sell the pearl to Raoul for +five thousand French.” + +“The house?” objected Nauri. + +“He will build the house,” Tefara answered. “He ways it will cost four +thousand French. Also will he give one thousand French in credit, which +is two thousand Chili.” + +“And it will be six fathoms long?” Nauri queried. + +“Ay,” answered Mapuhi, “six fathoms.” + +“And in the middle room will be the octagon-drop-clock?” + +“Ay, and the round table as well.” + +“Then give me something to eat, for I am hungry,” said Nauri, +complacently. “And after that we will sleep, for I am weary. And +tomorrow we will have more talk about the house before we sell the +pearl. It will be better if we take the thousand French in cash. Money +is ever better than credit in buying goods from the traders.” + + + + +THE WHALE TOOTH + +It was in the early days in Fiji, when John Starhurst arose in the +mission house at Rewa Village and announced his intention of carrying +the gospel throughout all Viti Levu. Now Viti Levu means the “Great +Land,” it being the largest island in a group composed of many large +islands, to say nothing of hundreds of small ones. Here and there on +the coasts, living by most precarious tenure, was a sprinkling of +missionaries, traders, bêche-de-mer fishers, and whaleship deserters. +The smoke of the hot ovens arose under their windows, and the bodies of +the slain were dragged by their doors on the way to the feasting. + +The Lotu, or the Worship, was progressing slowly, and, often, in +crablike fashion. Chiefs, who announced themselves Christians and +were welcomed into the body of the chapel, had a distressing habit of +backsliding in order to partake of the flesh of some favorite enemy. Eat +or be eaten had been the law of the land; and eat or be eaten promised +to remain the law of the land for a long time to come. There were +chiefs, such as Tanoa, Tuiveikoso, and Tuikilakila, who had literally +eaten hundreds of their fellow men. But among these gluttons Ra +Undreundre ranked highest. Ra Undreundre lived at Takiraki. He kept a +register of his gustatory exploits. A row of stones outside his house +marked the bodies he had eaten. This row was two hundred and thirty +paces long, and the stones in it numbered eight hundred and seventy-two. +Each stone represented a body. The row of stones might have been longer, +had not Ra Undreundre unfortunately received a spear in the small of his +back in a bush skirmish on Somo Somo and been served up on the table of +Naungavuli, whose mediocre string of stones numbered only forty-eight. + +The hard-worked, fever-stricken missionaries stuck doggedly to their +task, at times despairing, and looking forward for some special +manifestation, some outburst of Pentecostal fire that would bring a +glorious harvest of souls. But cannibal Fiji had remained obdurate. The +frizzle-headed man-eaters were loath to leave their fleshpots so long as +the harvest of human carcases was plentiful. Sometimes, when the harvest +was too plentiful, they imposed on the missionaries by letting the word +slip out that on such a day there would be a killing and a barbecue. +Promptly the missionaries would buy the lives of the victims with stick +tobacco, fathoms of calico, and quarts of trade beads. Natheless the +chiefs drove a handsome trade in thus disposing of their surplus live +meat. Also, they could always go out and catch more. + +It was at this juncture that John Starhurst proclaimed that he would +carry the Gospel from coast to coast of the Great Land, and that he +would begin by penetrating the mountain fastnesses of the headwaters of +the Rewa River. His words were received with consternation. + +The native teachers wept softly. His two fellow missionaries strove to +dissuade him. The King of Rewa warned him that the mountain dwellers +would surely kai-kai him--kai-kai meaning “to eat”--and that he, the +King of Rewa, having become Lotu, would be put to the necessity of going +to war with the mountain dwellers. That he could not conquer them he +was perfectly aware. That they might come down the river and sack Rewa +Village he was likewise perfectly aware. But what was he to do? If John +Starhurst persisted in going out and being eaten, there would be a war +that would cost hundreds of lives. + +Later in the day a deputation of Rewa chiefs waited upon John Starhurst. +He heard them patiently, and argued patiently with them, though he +abated not a whit from his purpose. To his fellow missionaries he +explained that he was not bent upon martyrdom; that the call had come +for him to carry the Gospel into Viti Levu, and that he was merely +obeying the Lord's wish. + +To the traders who came and objected most strenuously of all, he said: +“Your objections are valueless. They consist merely of the damage that +may be done your businesses. You are interested in making money, but +I am interested in saving souls. The heathen of this dark land must be +saved.” + +John Starhurst was not a fanatic. He would have been the first man to +deny the imputation. He was eminently sane and practical. + +He was sure that his mission would result in good, and he had +private visions of igniting the Pentecostal spark in the souls of the +mountaineers and of inaugurating a revival that would sweep down out of +the mountains and across the length and breadth of the Great Land from +sea to sea and to the isles in the midst of the sea. There were no +wild lights in his mild gray eyes, but only calm resolution and an +unfaltering trust in the Higher Power that was guiding him. + +One man only he found who approved of his project, and that was Ra Vatu, +who secretly encouraged him and offered to lend him guides to the first +foothills. John Starhurst, in turn, was greatly pleased by Ra Vatu's +conduct. From an incorrigible heathen, with a heart as black as his +practices, Ra Vatu was beginning to emanate light. He even spoke of +becoming Lotu. True, three years before he had expressed a similar +intention, and would have entered the church had not John Starhurst +entered objection to his bringing his four wives along with him. Ra +Vatu had had economic and ethical objections to monogamy. Besides, the +missionary's hair-splitting objection had offended him; and, to prove +that he was a free agent and a man of honor, he had swung his huge war +club over Starhurst's head. Starhurst had escaped by rushing in under +the club and holding on to him until help arrived. But all that was now +forgiven and forgotten. Ra Vatu was coming into the church, not merely +as a converted heathen, but as a converted polygamist as well. He was +only waiting, he assured Starhurst, until his oldest wife, who was very +sick, should die. + +John Starhurst journeyed up the sluggish Rewa in one of Ra Vatu's +canoes. This canoe was to carry him for two days, when, the head of +navigation reached, it would return. Far in the distance, lifted +into the sky, could be seen the great smoky mountains that marked the +backbone of the Great Land. All day John Starhurst gazed at them with +eager yearning. + +Sometimes he prayed silently. At other times he was joined in prayer by +Narau, a native teacher, who for seven years had been Lotu, ever since +the day he had been saved from the hot oven by Dr. James Ellery Brown +at the trifling expense of one hundred sticks of tobacco, two cotton +blankets, and a large bottle of painkiller. At the last moment, after +twenty hours of solitary supplication and prayer, Narau's ears had +heard the call to go forth with John Starhurst on the mission to the +mountains. + +“Master, I will surely go with thee,” he had announced. + +John Starhurst had hailed him with sober delight. Truly, the Lord was +with him thus to spur on so broken-spirited a creature as Narau. + +“I am indeed without spirit, the weakest of the Lord's vessels,” Narau +explained, the first day in the canoe. + +“You should have faith, stronger faith,” the missionary chided him. + +Another canoe journeyed up the Rewa that day. But it journeyed an +hour astern, and it took care not to be seen. This canoe was also the +property of Ra Vatu. In it was Erirola, Ra Vatu's first cousin and +trusted henchman; and in the small basket that never left his hand was +a whale tooth. It was a magnificent tooth, fully six inches long, +beautifully proportioned, the ivory turned yellow and purple with age. +This tooth was likewise the property of Ra Vatu; and in Fiji, when such +a tooth goes forth, things usually happen. For this is the virtue of +the whale tooth: Whoever accepts it cannot refuse the request that may +accompany it or follow it. The request may be anything from a human life +to a tribal alliance, and no Fijian is so dead to honor as to deny the +request when once the tooth has been accepted. Sometimes the request +hangs fire, or the fulfilment is delayed, with untoward consequences. + +High up the Rewa, at the village of a chief, Mongondro by name, John +Starhurst rested at the end of the second day of the journey. In the +morning, attended by Narau, he expected to start on foot for the smoky +mountains that were now green and velvety with nearness. Mongondro was +a sweet-tempered, mild-mannered little old chief, short-sighted +and afflicted with elephantiasis, and no longer inclined toward the +turbulence of war. He received the missionary with warm hospitality, +gave him food from his own table, and even discussed religious matters +with him. Mongondro was of an inquiring bent of mind, and pleased +John Starhurst greatly by asking him to account for the existence and +beginning of things. When the missionary had finished his summary of +the Creation according to Genesis, he saw that Mongondro was deeply +affected. The little old chief smoked silently for some time. Then he +took the pipe from his mouth and shook his head sadly. + +“It cannot be,” he said. “I, Mongondro, in my youth, was a good workman +with the adze. Yet three months did it take me to make a canoe--a small +canoe, a very small canoe. And you say that all this land and water was +made by one man--” + +“Nay, was made by one God, the only true God,” the missionary +interrupted. + +“It is the same thing,” Mongondro went on, “that all the land and all +the water, the trees, the fish, and bush and mountains, the sun, the +moon, and the stars, were made in six days! No, no. I tell you that in +my youth I was an able man, yet did it require me three months for one +small canoe. It is a story to frighten children with; but no man can +believe it.” + +“I am a man,” the missionary said. + +“True, you are a man. But it is not given to my dark understanding to +know what you believe.” + +“I tell you, I do believe that everything was made in six days.” + +“So you say, so you say,” the old cannibal murmured soothingly. + +It was not until after John Starhurst and Narau had gone off to bed +that Erirola crept into the chief's house, and, after diplomatic speech, +handed the whale tooth to Mongondro. + +The old chief held the tooth in his hands for a long time. It was a +beautiful tooth, and he yearned for it. Also, he divined the request +that must accompany it. “No, no; whale teeth were beautiful,” and +his mouth watered for it, but he passed it back to Erirola with many +apologies. + + ***** + +In the early dawn John Starhurst was afoot, striding along the bush +trail in his big leather boots, at his heels the faithful Narau, himself +at the heels of a naked guide lent him by Mongondro to show the way to +the next village, which was reached by midday. Here a new guide showed +the way. A mile in the rear plodded Erirola, the whale tooth in the +basket slung on his shoulder. For two days more he brought up the +missionary's rear, offering the tooth to the village chiefs. But village +after village refused the tooth. It followed so quickly the missionary's +advent that they divined the request that would be made, and would have +none of it. + +They were getting deep into the mountains, and Erirola took a secret +trail, cut in ahead of the missionary, and reached the stronghold of the +Buli of Gatoka. Now the Buli was unaware of John Starhurst's imminent +arrival. Also, the tooth was beautiful--an extraordinary specimen, while +the coloring of it was of the rarest order. The tooth was presented +publicly. The Buli of Gatoka, seated on his best mat, surrounded by his +chief men, three busy fly-brushers at his back, deigned to receive from +the hand of his herald the whale tooth presented by Ra Vatu and carried +into the mountains by his cousin, Erirola. A clapping of hands went up +at the acceptance of the present, the assembled headman, heralds, and +fly-brushers crying aloud in chorus: + +“A! woi! woi! woi! A! woi! woi! woi! A tabua levu! woi! woi! A mudua, +mudua, mudua!' + +“Soon will come a man, a white man,” Erirola began, after the proper +pause. “He is a missionary man, and he will come today. Ra Vatu is +pleased to desire his boots. He wishes to present them to his good +friend, Mongondro, and it is in his mind to send them with the feet +along in them, for Mongondro is an old man and his teeth are not good. +Be sure, O Buli, that the feet go along in the boots. As for the rest of +him, it may stop here.” + +The delight in the whale tooth faded out of the Buli's eyes, and he +glanced about him dubiously. Yet had he already accepted the tooth. + +“A little thing like a missionary does not matter,” Erirola prompted. + +“No, a little thing like a missionary does not matter,” the Buli +answered, himself again. “Mongondro shall have the boots. Go, you young +men, some three or four of you, and meet the missionary on the trail. Be +sure you bring back the boots as well.” + +“It is too late,” said Erirola. “Listen! He comes now.” + +Breaking through the thicket of brush, John Starhurst, with Narau close +on his heels, strode upon the scene. The famous boots, having filled in +wading the stream, squirted fine jets of water at every step. Starhurst +looked about him with flashing eyes. Upborne by an unwavering trust, +untouched by doubt or fear, he exulted in all he saw. He knew that +since the beginning of time he was the first white man ever to tread the +mountain stronghold of Gatoka. + +The grass houses clung to the steep mountain side or overhung the +rushing Rewa. On either side towered a mighty precipice. At the best, +three hours of sunlight penetrated that narrow gorge. No cocoanuts +nor bananas were to be seen, though dense, tropic vegetation overran +everything, dripping in airy festoons from the sheer lips of the +precipices and running riot in all the crannied ledges. At the far end +of the gorge the Rewa leaped eight hundred feet in a single span, while +the atmosphere of the rock fortress pulsed to the rhythmic thunder of +the fall. + +From the Buli's house, John Starhurst saw emerging the Buli and his +followers. + +“I bring you good tidings,” was the missionary's greeting. + +“Who has sent you?” the Buli rejoined quietly. + +“God.” + +“It is a new name in Viti Levu,” the Buli grinned. “Of what islands, +villages, or passes may he be chief?” + +“He is the chief over all islands, all villages, all passes,” John +Starhurst answered solemnly. “He is the Lord over heaven and earth, and +I am come to bring His word to you.” + +“Has he sent whale teeth?” was the insolent query. + +“No, but more precious than whale teeth is the--” + +“It is the custom, between chiefs, to send whale teeth,” the Buli +interrupted. + +“Your chief is either a niggard, or you are a fool, to come empty-handed +into the mountains. Behold, a more generous than you is before you.” + +So saying, he showed the whale tooth he had received from Erirola. + +Narau groaned. + +“It is the whale tooth of Ra Vatu,” he whispered to Starhurst. “I know +it well. Now are we undone.” + +“A gracious thing,” the missionary answered, passing his hand through +his long beard and adjusting his glasses. “Ra Vatu has arranged that we +should be well received.” + +But Narau groaned again, and backed away from the heels he had dogged so +faithfully. + +“Ra Vatu is soon to become Lotu,” Starhurst explained, “and I have come +bringing the Lotu to you.” + +“I want none of your Lotu,” said the Buli, proudly. “And it is in my +mind that you will be clubbed this day.” + +The Buli nodded to one of his big mountaineers, who stepped forward, +swinging a club. Narau bolted into the nearest house, seeking to hide +among the woman and mats; but John Starhurst sprang in under the club +and threw his arms around his executioner's neck. From this point of +vantage he proceeded to argue. He was arguing for his life, and he knew +it; but he was neither excited nor afraid. + +“It would be an evil thing for you to kill me,” he told the man. “I have +done you no wrong, nor have I done the Buli wrong.” + +So well did he cling to the neck of the one man that they dared not +strike with their clubs. And he continued to cling and to dispute for +his life with those who clamored for his death. + +“I am John Starhurst,” he went on calmly. “I have labored in Fiji for +three years, and I have done it for no profit. I am here among you for +good. Why should any man kill me? To kill me will not profit any man.” + +The Buli stole a look at the whale tooth. He was well paid for the deed. + +The missionary was surrounded by a mass of naked savages, all struggling +to get at him. The death song, which is the song of the oven, was +raised, and his expostulations could no longer be heard. But so +cunningly did he twine and wreathe his body about his captor's that the +death blow could not be struck. Erirola smiled, and the Buli grew angry. + +“Away with you!” he cried. “A nice story to go back to the coast--a +dozen of you and one missionary, without weapons, weak as a woman, +overcoming all of you.” + +“Wait, O Buli,” John Starhurst called out from the thick of the scuffle, +“and I will overcome even you. For my weapons are Truth and Right, and +no man can withstand them.” + +“Come to me, then,” the Buli answered, “for my weapon is only a poor +miserable club, and, as you say, it cannot withstand you.” + +The group separated from him, and John Starhurst stood alone, facing the +Buli, who was leaning on an enormous, knotted warclub. + +“Come to me, missionary man, and overcome me,” the Buli challenged. + +“Even so will I come to you and overcome you,” John Starhurst made +answer, first wiping his spectacles and settling them properly, then +beginning his advance. + +The Buli raised the club and waited. + +“In the first place, my death will profit you nothing,” began the +argument. + +“I leave the answer to my club,” was the Buli's reply. + +And to every point he made the same reply, at the same time watching the +missionary closely in order to forestall that cunning run-in under the +lifted club. Then, and for the first time, John Starhurst knew that his +death was at hand. He made no attempt to run in. Bareheaded, he stood in +the sun and prayed aloud--the mysterious figure of the inevitable white +man, who, with Bible, bullet, or rum bottle, has confronted the amazed +savage in his every stronghold. Even so stood John Starhurst in the rock +fortress of the Buli of Gatoka. + +“Forgive them, for they know not what they do,” he prayed. “O Lord! Have +mercy upon Fiji. Have compassion for Fiji. O Jehovah, hear us for His +sake, Thy Son, whom Thou didst give that through Him all men might also +become Thy children. From Thee we came, and our mind is that to Thee +we may return. The land is dark, O Lord, the land is dark. But Thou art +mighty to save. Reach out Thy hand, O Lord, and save Fiji, poor cannibal +Fiji.” + +The Buli grew impatient. + +“Now will I answer thee,” he muttered, at the same time swinging his +club with both hands. + +Narau, hiding among the women and the mats, heard the impact of the +blow and shuddered. Then the death song arose, and he knew his beloved +missionary's body was being dragged to the oven as he heard the words: + +“Drag me gently. Drag me gently.” + +“For I am the champion of my land.” + +“Give thanks! Give thanks! Give thanks!” + +Next, a single voice arose out of the din, asking: + +“Where is the brave man?” + +A hundred voices bellowed the answer: + +“Gone to be dragged into the oven and cooked.” + +“Where is the coward?” the single voice demanded. + +“Gone to report!” the hundred voices bellowed back. “Gone to report! +Gone to report!” + +Narau groaned in anguish of spirit. The words of the old song were true. +He was the coward, and nothing remained to him but to go and report. + + + + +MAUKI + +He weighed one hundred and ten pounds. His hair was kinky and negroid, +and he was black. He was peculiarly black. He was neither blue-black nor +purple-black, but plum-black. His name was Mauki, and he was the son +of a chief. He had three tambos. Tambo is Melanesian for taboo, and +is first cousin to that Polynesian word. Mauki's three tambos were +as follows: First, he must never shake hands with a woman, nor have a +woman's hand touch him or any of his personal belongings; secondly, he +must never eat clams nor any food from a fire in which clams had been +cooked; thirdly, he must never touch a crocodile, nor travel in a canoe +that carried any part of a crocodile even if as large as a tooth. + +Of a different black were his teeth, which were deep black, or, perhaps +better, LAMP-black. They had been made so in a single night, by his +mother, who had compressed about them a powdered mineral which was +dug from the landslide back of Port Adams. Port Adams is a salt-water +village on Malaita, and Malaita is the most savage island in the +Solomons--so savage that no traders or planters have yet gained a +foothold on it; while, from the time of the earliest bêche-de-mer +fishers and sandalwood traders down to the latest labor recruiters +equipped with automatic rifles and gasolene engines, scores of white +adventurers have been passed out by tomahawks and soft-nosed Snider +bullets. So Malaita remains today, in the twentieth century, the +stamping ground of the labor recruiters, who farm its coasts for +laborers who engage and contract themselves to toil on the plantations +of the neighboring and more civilized islands for a wage of thirty +dollars a year. The natives of those neighboring and more civilized +islands have themselves become too civilized to work on plantations. + +Mauki's ears were pierced, not in one place, nor two places, but in a +couple of dozen places. In one of the smaller holes he carried a clay +pipe. The larger holes were too large for such use. The bowl of the pipe +would have fallen through. In fact, in the largest hole in each ear +he habitually wore round wooden plugs that were an even four inches in +diameter. Roughly speaking, the circumference of said holes was twelve +and one-half inches. Mauki was catholic in his tastes. In the various +smaller holes he carried such things as empty rifle cartridges, +horseshoe nails, copper screws, pieces of string, braids of sennit, +strips of green leaf, and, in the cool of the day, scarlet hibiscus +flowers. From which it will be seen that pockets were not necessary to +his well-being. Besides, pockets were impossible, for his only wearing +apparel consisted of a piece of calico several inches wide. A pocket +knife he wore in his hair, the blade snapped down on a kinky lock. His +most prized possession was the handle of a china cup, which he suspended +from a ring of turtle-shell, which, in turn, was passed through the +partition-cartilage of his nose. + +But in spite of embellishments, Mauki had a nice face. It was really +a pretty face, viewed by any standard, and for a Melanesian it was a +remarkably good-looking face. Its one fault was its lack of strength. It +was softly effeminate, almost girlish. The features were small, regular, +and delicate. The chin was weak, and the mouth was weak. There was no +strength nor character in the jaws, forehead, and nose. In the eyes only +could be caught any hint of the unknown quantities that were so large a +part of his make-up and that other persons could not understand. These +unknown quantities were pluck, pertinacity, fearlessness, imagination, +and cunning; and when they found expression in some consistent and +striking action, those about him were astounded. + +Mauki's father was chief over the village at Port Adams, and thus, by +birth a salt-water man, Mauki was half amphibian. He knew the way of the +fishes and oysters, and the reef was an open book to him. Canoes, also, +he knew. He learned to swim when he was a year old. At seven years he +could hold his breath a full minute and swim straight down to bottom +through thirty feet of water. And at seven years he was stolen by +the bushmen, who cannot even swim and who are afraid of salt water. +Thereafter Mauki saw the sea only from a distance, through rifts in the +jungle and from open spaces on the high mountain sides. He became the +slave of old Fanfoa, head chief over a score of scattered bush-villages +on the range-lips of Malaita, the smoke of which, on calm mornings, +is about the only evidence the seafaring white men have of the teeming +interior population. For the whites do not penetrate Malaita. They tried +it once, in the days when the search was on for gold, but they always +left their heads behind to grin from the smoky rafters of the bushmen's +huts. + +When Mauki was a young man of seventeen, Fanfoa got out of tobacco. He +got dreadfully out of tobacco. It was hard times in all his villages. +He had been guilty of a mistake. Suo was a harbor so small that a large +schooner could not swing at anchor in it. It was surrounded by mangroves +that overhung the deep water. It was a trap, and into the trap sailed +two white men in a small ketch. They were after recruits, and they +possessed much tobacco and trade goods, to say nothing of three rifles +and plenty of ammunition. Now there were no salt-water men living at +Suo, and it was there that the bushmen could come down to the sea. The +ketch did a splendid traffic. It signed on twenty recruits the first +day. Even old Fanfoa signed on. And that same day the score of new +recruits chopped off the two white men's head, killed the boat's crew, +and burned the ketch. Thereafter, and for three months, there was +tobacco and trade goods in plenty and to spare in all the bush villages. +Then came the man-of-war that threw shells for miles into the hills, +frightening the people out of their villages and into the deeper bush. +Next the man-of-war sent landing parties ashore. The villages were all +burned, along with the tobacco and trade stuff. + +The cocoanuts and bananas were chopped down, the taro gardens uprooted, +and the pigs and chickens killed. + +It taught Fanfoa a lesson, but in the meantime he was out of tobacco. +Also, his young men were too frightened to sign on with the recruiting +vessels. That was why Fanfoa ordered his slave, Mauki, to be carried +down and signed on for half a case of tobacco advance, along with +knives, axes, calico, and beads, which he would pay for with his toil +on the plantations. Mauki was sorely frightened when they brought him on +board the schooner. He was a lamb led to the slaughter. White men were +ferocious creatures. They had to be, or else they would not make a +practice of venturing along the Malaita coast and into all harbors, two +on a schooner, when each schooner carried from fifteen to twenty blacks +as boat's crew, and often as high as sixty or seventy black recruits. In +addition to this, there was always the danger of the shore population, +the sudden attack and the cutting off of the schooner and all hands. +Truly, white men must be terrible. Besides, they were possessed of such +devil-devils--rifles that shot very rapidly many times, things of iron +and brass that made the schooners go when there was no wind, and boxes +that talked and laughed just as men talked and laughed. + +Ay, and he had heard of one white man whose particular devil-devil was +so powerful that he could take out all his teeth and put them back at +will. + +Down into the cabin they took Mauki. On deck, the one white man kept +guard with two revolvers in his belt. In the cabin the other white man +sat with a book before him, in which he inscribed strange marks and +lines. He looked at Mauki as though he had been a pig or a fowl, glanced +under the hollows of his arms, and wrote in the book. Then he held out +the writing stick and Mauki just barely touched it with his hand, in so +doing pledging himself to toil for three years on the plantations of the +Moongleam Soap Company. It was not explained to him that the will of +the ferocious white men would be used to enforce the pledge, and that, +behind all, for the same use, was all the power and all the warships of +Great Britain. + +Other blacks there were on board, from unheard-of far places, and when +the white man spoke to them, they tore the long feather from Mauki's +hair, cut that same hair short, and wrapped about his waist a lava-lava +of bright yellow calico. + +After many days on the schooner, and after beholding more land and +islands than he had ever dreamed of, he was landed on New Georgia, and +put to work in the field clearing jungle and cutting cane grass. For the +first time he knew what work was. Even as a slave to Fanfoa he had not +worked like this. And he did not like work. It was up at dawn and in at +dark, on two meals a day. And the food was tiresome. For weeks at a time +they were given nothing but sweet potatoes to eat, and for weeks at +a time it would be nothing but rice. He cut out the cocoanut from the +shells day after day; and for long days and weeks he fed the fires +that smoked the copra, till his eyes got sore and he was set to +felling trees. He was a good axe-man, and later he was put in the +bridge-building gang. Once, he was punished by being put in the +road-building gang. At times he served as boat's crew in the whale +boats, when they brought in copra from distant beaches or when the white +men went out to dynamite fish. + +Among other things he learned beche-de-mer English, with which he could +talk with all white men, and with all recruits who otherwise would have +talked in a thousand different dialects. Also, he learned certain things +about the white men, principally that they kept their word. If they told +a boy he was going to receive a stick of tobacco, he got it. If they +told a boy they would knock seven bells out of him if he did a certain +thing, when he did that thing, seven bells invariably were knocked out +of him. Mauki did not know what seven bells were, but they occurred +in beche-de-mer, and he imagined them to be the blood and teeth that +sometimes accompanied the process of knocking out seven bells. One other +thing he learned: no boy was struck or punished unless he did wrong. +Even when the white men were drunk, as they were frequently, they never +struck unless a rule had been broken. + +Mauki did not like the plantation. He hated work, and he was the son +of a chief. Furthermore, it was ten years since he had been stolen from +Port Adams by Fanfoa, and he was homesick. He was even homesick for the +slavery under Fanfoa. So he ran away. He struck back into the bush, with +the idea of working southward to the beach and stealing a canoe in which +to go home to Port Adams. + +But the fever got him, and he was captured and brought back more dead +than alive. + +A second time he ran away, in the company of two Malaita boys. They got +down the coast twenty miles, and were hidden in the hut of a Malaita +freeman, who dwelt in that village. But in the dead of night two white +men came, who were not afraid of all the village people and who knocked +seven bells out of the three runaways, tied them like pigs, and +tossed them into the whale boat. But the man in whose house they had +hidden--seven times seven bells must have been knocked out of him from +the way the hair, skin, and teeth flew, and he was discouraged for the +rest of his natural life from harboring runaway laborers. + +For a year Mauki toiled on. Then he was made a house-boy, and had good +food and easy times, with light work in keeping the house clean and +serving the white men with whiskey and beer at all hours of the day and +most hours of the night. He liked it, but he liked Port Adams more. He +had two years longer to serve, but two years were too long for him in +the throes of homesickness. He had grown wiser with his year of service, +and, being now a house-boy, he had opportunity. He had the cleaning of +the rifles, and he knew where the key to the store room was hung. He +planned to escape, and one night ten Malaita boys and one boy from San +Cristoval sneaked from the barracks and dragged one of the whale boats +down to the beach. It was Mauki who supplied the key that opened the +padlock on the boat, and it was Mauki who equipped the boat with a dozen +Winchesters, an immense amount of ammunition, a case of dynamite with +detonators and fuse, and ten cases of tobacco. + +The northwest monsoon was blowing, and they fled south in the night +time, hiding by day on detached and uninhabited islets, or dragging +their whale boat into the bush on the large islands. Thus they gained +Guadalcanar, skirted halfway along it, and crossed the Indispensable +Straits to Florida Island. It was here that they killed the San +Cristoval boy, saving his head and cooking and eating the rest of him. +The Malaita coast was only twenty miles away, but the last night a +strong current and baffling winds prevented them from gaining across. +Daylight found them still several miles from their goal. But daylight +brought a cutter, in which were two white men, who were not afraid of +eleven Malaita men armed with twelve rifles. Mauki and his companions +were carried back to Tulagi, where lived the great white master of all +the white men. And the great white master held a court, after which, +one by one, the runaways were tied up and given twenty lashes each, +and sentenced to a fine of fifteen dollars. They were sent back to New +Georgia, where the white men knocked seven bells out of them all around +and put them to work. But Mauki was no longer house-boy. He was put in +the road-making gang. The fine of fifteen dollars had been paid by the +white men from whom he had run away, and he was told that he would have +to work it out, which meant six months' additional toil. Further, his +share of the stolen tobacco earned him another year of toil. + +Port Adams was now three years and a half away, so he stole a canoe one +night, hid on the islets in Manning Straits, passed through the +Straits, and began working along the eastern coast of Ysabel, only to +be captured, two-thirds of the way along, by the white men on Meringe +Lagoon. After a week, he escaped from them and took to the bush. There +were no bush natives on Ysabel, only salt-water men, who were all +Christians. The white men put up a reward of five-hundred sticks of +tobacco, and every time Mauki ventured down to the sea to steal a canoe +he was chased by the salt-water men. Four months of this passed, when, +the reward having been raised to a thousand sticks, he was caught and +sent back to New Georgia and the road-building gang. Now a thousand +sticks are worth fifty dollars, and Mauki had to pay the reward himself, +which required a year and eight months' labor. So Port Adams was now +five years away. + +His homesickness was greater than ever, and it did not appeal to him to +settle down and be good, work out his four years, and go home. The +next time, he was caught in the very act of running away. His case was +brought before Mr. Haveby, the island manager of the Moongleam Soap +Company, who adjudged him an incorrigible. The Company had plantations +on the Santa Cruz Islands, hundreds of miles across the sea, and there +it sent its Solomon Islands' incorrigibles. And there Mauki was sent, +though he never arrived. The schooner stopped at Santa Anna, and in the +night Mauki swam ashore, where he stole two rifles and a case of tobacco +from the trader and got away in a canoe to Cristoval. Malaita was now to +the north, fifty or sixty miles away. But when he attempted the passage, +he was caught by a light gale and driven back to Santa Anna, where +the trader clapped him in irons and held him against the return of the +schooner from Santa Cruz. The two rifles the trader recovered, but the +case of tobacco was charged up to Mauki at the rate of another year. The +sum of years he now owed the Company was six. + +On the way back to New Georgia, the schooner dropped anchor in Marau +Sound, which lies at the southeastern extremity of Guadalcanar. Mauki +swam ashore with handcuffs on his wrists and got away to the bush. The +schooner went on, but the Moongleam trader ashore offered a thousand +sticks, and to him Mauki was brought by the bushmen with a year and +eight months tacked on to his account. Again, and before the schooner +called in, he got away, this time in a whale boat accompanied by a case +of the trader's tobacco. But a northwest gale wrecked him upon Ugi, +where the Christian natives stole his tobacco and turned him over to the +Moongleam trader who resided there. The tobacco the natives stole meant +another year for him, and the tale was now eight years and a half. + +“We'll send him to Lord Howe,” said Mr. Haveby. “Bunster is there, and +we'll let them settle it between them. It will be a case, I imagine, of +Mauki getting Bunster, or Bunster getting Mauki, and good riddance in +either event.” + +If one leaves Meringe Lagoon, on Ysabel, and steers a course due north, +magnetic, at the end of one hundred and fifty miles he will lift the +pounded coral beaches of Lord Howe above the sea. Lord Howe is a ring of +land some one hundred and fifty miles in circumference, several hundred +yards wide at its widest, and towering in places to a height of ten feet +above sea level. Inside this ring of sand is a mighty lagoon studded +with coral patches. Lord Howe belongs to the Solomons neither +geographically nor ethnologically. It is an atoll, while the Solomons +are high islands; and its people and language are Polynesian, while the +inhabitants of the Solomons are Melanesian. + +Lord Howe has been populated by the westward Polynesian drift which +continues to this day, big outrigger canoes being washed upon its +beaches by the southeast trade. That there has been a slight Melanesian +drift in the period of the northwest monsoon, is also evident. + +Nobody ever comes to Lord Howe, or Ontong-Java as it is sometimes +called. Thomas Cook & Son do not sell tickets to it, and tourists do not +dream of its existence. Not even a white missionary has landed on its +shore. Its five thousand natives are as peaceable as they are primitive. +Yet they were not always peaceable. The Sailing Directions speak of +them as hostile and treacherous. But the men who compile the Sailing +Directions have never heard of the change that was worked in the hearts +of the inhabitants, who, not many years ago, cut off a big bark and +killed all hands with the exception of the second mate. The survivor +carried the news to his brothers. The captains of three trading +schooners returned with him to Lord Howe. They sailed their vessels +right into the lagoon and proceeded to preach the white man's gospel +that only white men shall kill white men and that the lesser breeds must +keep hands off. The schooners sailed up and down the lagoon, harrying +and destroying. There was no escape from the narrow sand-circle, no +bush to which to flee. The men were shot down at sight, and there was +no avoiding being sighted. The villages were burned, the canoes smashed, +the chickens and pigs killed, and the precious cocoanut trees chopped +down. For a month this continued, when the schooner sailed away; but the +fear of the white man had been seared into the souls of the islanders +and never again were they rash enough to harm one. + +Max Bunster was the one white man on Lord Howe, trading in the pay of +the ubiquitous Moongleam Soap Company. And the Company billeted him +on Lord Howe, because, next to getting rid of him, it was the most +out-of-the-way place to be found. That the Company did not get rid of +him was due to the difficulty of finding another man to take his place. +He was a strapping big German, with something wrong in his brain. +Semi-madness would be a charitable statement of his condition. He was +a bully and a coward, and a thrice-bigger savage than any savage on the +island. + +Being a coward, his brutality was of the cowardly order. When he +first went into the Company's employ, he was stationed on Savo. When a +consumptive colonial was sent to take his place, he beat him up with his +fists and sent him off a wreck in the schooner that brought him. + +Mr. Haveby next selected a young Yorkshire giant to relieve Bunster. The +Yorkshire man had a reputation as a bruiser and preferred fighting to +eating. But Bunster wouldn't fight. He was a regular little lamb--for +ten days, at the end of which time the Yorkshire man was prostrated by a +combined attack of dysentery and fever. Then Bunster went for him, among +other things getting him down and jumping on him a score or so of times. +Afraid of what would happen when his victim recovered. Bunster fled away +in a cutter to Guvutu, where he signalized himself by beating up a young +Englishman already crippled by a Boer bullet through both hips. + +Then it was that Mr. Haveby sent Bunster to Lord Howe, the falling-off +place. He celebrated his landing by mopping up half a case of gin and by +thrashing the elderly and wheezy mate of the schooner which had brought +him. When the schooner departed, he called the kanakas down to the beach +and challenged them to throw him in a wrestling bout, promising a case +of tobacco to the one who succeeded. Three kanakas he threw, but was +promptly thrown by a fourth, who, instead of receiving the tobacco, got +a bullet through his lungs. + +And so began Bunster's reign on Lord Howe. Three thousand people lived +in the principal village; but it was deserted, even in broad day, when +he passed through. Men, women, and children fled before him. Even the +dogs and pigs got out of the way, while the king was not above hiding +under a mat. The two prime ministers lived in terror of Bunster, who +never discussed any moot subject, but struck out with his fists instead. + +And to Lord Howe came Mauki, to toil for Bunster for eight long years +and a half. There was no escaping from Lord Howe. For better or worse, +Bunster and he were tied together. Bunster weighed two hundred pounds. +Mauki weighed one hundred and ten. Bunster was a degenerate brute. But +Mauki was a primitive savage. While both had wills and ways of their +own. + +Mauki had no idea of the sort of master he was to work for. He had had +no warnings, and he had concluded as a matter of course that Bunster +would be like other white men, a drinker of much whiskey, a ruler and a +lawgiver who always kept his word and who never struck a boy undeserved. +Bunster had the advantage. He knew all about Mauki, and gloated over the +coming into possession of him. The last cook was suffering from a broken +arm and a dislocated shoulder, so Bunster made Mauki cook and general +house-boy. + +And Mauki soon learned that there were white men and white men. On the +very day the schooner departed he was ordered to buy a chicken from +Samisee, the native Tongan missionary. But Samisee had sailed across +the lagoon and would not be back for three days. Mauki returned with +the information. He climbed the steep stairway (the house stood on piles +twelve feet above the sand), and entered the living room to report. +The trader demanded the chicken. Mauki opened his mouth to explain the +missionary's absence. But Bunster did not care for explanations. He +struck out with his fist. The blow caught Mauki on the mouth and lifted +him into the air. Clear through the doorway he flew, across the narrow +veranda, breaking the top railing, and down to the ground. + +His lips were a contused, shapeless mass, and his mouth was full of +blood and broken teeth. + +“That'll teach you that back talk don't go with me,” the trader shouted, +purple with rage, peering down at him over the broken railing. + +Mauki had never met a white man like this, and he resolved to walk small +and never offend. He saw the boat boys knocked about, and one of +them put in irons for three days with nothing to eat for the crime of +breaking a rowlock while pulling. Then, too, he heard the gossip of the +village and learned why Bunster had taken a third wife--by force, as was +well known. The first and second wives lay in the graveyard, under the +white coral sand, with slabs of coral rock at head and feet. They had +died, it was said, from beatings he had given them. The third wife was +certainly ill-used, as Mauki could see for himself. + +But there was no way by which to avoid offending the white man who +seemed offended with life. When Mauki kept silent, he was struck and +called a sullen brute. When he spoke, he was struck for giving back +talk. When he was grave, Bunster accused him of plotting and gave him a +thrashing in advance; and when he strove to be cheerful and to smile, +he was charged with sneering at his lord and master and given a taste of +stick. Bunster was a devil. + +The village would have done for him, had it not remembered the lesson +of the three schooners. It might have done for him anyway, if there had +been a bush to which to flee. As it was, the murder of the white men, +of any white man, would bring a man-of-war that would kill the offenders +and chop down the precious cocoanut trees. Then there were the boat +boys, with minds fully made up to drown him by accident at the first +opportunity to capsize the cutter. Only Bunster saw to it that the boat +did not capsize. + +Mauki was of a different breed, and escape being impossible while +Bunster lived, he was resolved to get the white man. The trouble was +that he could never find a chance. Bunster was always on guard. Day +and night his revolvers were ready to hand. He permitted nobody to pass +behind his back, as Mauki learned after having been knocked down several +times. Bunster knew that he had more to fear from the good-natured, even +sweet-faced, Malaita boy than from the entire population of Lord Howe; +and it gave added zest to the programme of torment he was carrying out. +And Mauki walked small, accepted his punishments, and waited. + +All other white men had respected his tambos, but not so Bunster. + +Mauki's weekly allowance of tobacco was two sticks. Bunster passed them +to his woman and ordered Mauki to receive them from her hand. But this +could not be, and Mauki went without his tobacco. In the same way he was +made to miss many a meal, and to go hungry many a day. He was ordered to +make chowder out of the big clams that grew in the lagoon. This he could +not do, for clams were tambo. Six times in succession he refused to +touch the clams, and six times he was knocked senseless. Bunster knew +that the boy would die first, but called his refusal mutiny, and would +have killed him had there been another cook to take his place. + +One of the trader's favorite tricks was to catch Mauki's kinky locks and +bat his head against the wall. Another trick was to catch Mauki unawares +and thrust the live end of a cigar against his flesh. This Bunster +called vaccination, and Mauki was vaccinated a number of times a week. +Once, in a rage, Bunster ripped the cup handle from Mauki's nose, +tearing the hole clear out of the cartilage. + +“Oh, what a mug!” was his comment, when he surveyed the damage he had +wrought. + +The skin of a shark is like sandpaper, but the skin of a ray fish is +like a rasp. In the South Seas the natives use it as a wood file in +smoothing down canoes and paddles. Bunster had a mitten made of ray fish +skin. The first time he tried it on Mauki, with one sweep of the hand +it fetched the skin off his back from neck to armpit. Bunster was +delighted. He gave his wife a taste of the mitten, and tried it out +thoroughly on the boat boys. The prime ministers came in for a stroke +each, and they had to grin and take it for a joke. + +“Laugh, damn you, laugh!” was the cue he gave. + +Mauki came in for the largest share of the mitten. Never a day passed +without a caress from it. There were times when the loss of so much +cuticle kept him awake at night, and often the half-healed surface +was raked raw afresh by the facetious Mr. Bunster. Mauki continued his +patient wait, secure in the knowledge that sooner or later his time +would come. And he knew just what he was going to do, down to the +smallest detail, when the time did come. + +One morning Bunster got up in a mood for knocking seven bells out of +the universe. He began on Mauki, and wound up on Mauki, in the interval +knocking down his wife and hammering all the boat boys. At breakfast he +called the coffee slops and threw the scalding contents of the cup into +Mauki's face. By ten o'clock Bunster was shivering with ague, and half +an hour later he was burning with fever. It was no ordinary attack. It +quickly became pernicious, and developed into black-water fever. The +days passed, and he grew weaker and weaker, never leaving his bed. Mauki +waited and watched, the while his skin grew intact once more. He ordered +the boys to beach the cutter, scrub her bottom, and give her a general +overhauling. They thought the order emanated from Bunster, and they +obeyed. But Bunster at the time was lying unconscious and giving no +orders. This was Mauki's chance, but still he waited. + +When the worst was past, and Bunster lay convalescent and conscious, but +weak as a baby, Mauki packed his few trinkets, including the china +cup handle, into his trade box. Then he went over to the village and +interviewed the king and his two prime ministers. + +“This fella Bunster, him good fella you like too much?” he asked. + +They explained in one voice that they liked the trader not at all. The +ministers poured forth a recital of all the indignities and wrongs +that had been heaped upon them. The king broke down and wept. Mauki +interrupted rudely. + +“You savve me--me big fella marster my country. You no like 'm this +fella white marster. Me no like 'm. Plenty good you put hundred +cocoanut, two hundred cocoanut, three hundred cocoanut along cutter. +Him finish, you go sleep 'm good fella. Altogether kanaka sleep m good +fella. Bime by big fella noise along house, you no savve hear 'm that +fella noise. You altogether sleep strong fella too much.” + +In like manner Mauki interviewed the boat boys. Then he ordered +Bunster's wife to return to her family house. Had she refused, he would +have been in a quandary, for his tambo would not have permitted him to +lay hands on her. + +The house deserted, he entered the sleeping room, where the trader lay +in a doze. Mauki first removed the revolvers, then placed the ray fish +mitten on his hand. Bunster's first warning was a stroke of the mitten +that removed the skin the full length of his nose. + +“Good fella, eh?” Mauki grinned, between two strokes, one of which swept +the forehead bare and the other of which cleaned off one side of his +face. “Laugh, damn you, laugh.” + +Mauki did his work throughly, and the kanakas, hiding in their houses, +heard the “big fella noise” that Bunster made and continued to make for +an hour or more. + +When Mauki was done, he carried the boat compass and all the rifles and +ammunition down to the cutter, which he proceeded to ballast with cases +of tobacco. It was while engaged in this that a hideous, skinless thing +came out of the house and ran screaming down the beach till it fell in +the sand and mowed and gibbered under the scorching sun. Mauki looked +toward it and hesitated. Then he went over and removed the head, which +he wrapped in a mat and stowed in the stern locker of the cutter. + +So soundly did the kanakas sleep through that long hot day that they +did not see the cutter run out through the passage and head south, +close-hauled on the southeast trade. Nor was the cutter ever sighted on +that long tack to the shores of Ysabel, and during the tedious head-beat +from there to Malaita. He landed at Port Adams with a wealth of rifles +and tobacco such as no one man had ever possessed before. But he did +not stop there. He had taken a white man's head, and only the bush could +shelter him. So back he went to the bush villages, where he shot old +Fanfoa and half a dozen of the chief men, and made himself the chief +over all the villages. When his father died, Mauki's brother ruled +in Port Adams, and joined together, salt-water men and bushmen, the +resulting combination was the strongest of the ten score fighting tribes +of Malaita. + +More than his fear of the British government was Mauki's fear of the +all-powerful Moongleam Soap Company; and one day a message came up +to him in the bush, reminding him that he owed the Company eight and +one-half years of labor. He sent back a favorable answer, and then +appeared the inevitable white man, the captain of the schooner, the +only white man during Mauki's reign, who ventured the bush and came out +alive. This man not only came out, but he brought with him seven hundred +and fifty dollars in gold sovereigns--the money price of eight years +and a half of labor plus the cost price of certain rifles and cases of +tobacco. + +Mauki no longer weighs one hundred and ten pounds. His stomach is +three times its former girth, and he has four wives. He has many +other things--rifles and revolvers, the handle of a china cup, and an +excellent collection of bushmen's heads. But more precious than the +entire collection is another head, perfectly dried and cured, with sandy +hair and a yellowish beard, which is kept wrapped in the finest of fibre +lava-lavas. When Mauki goes to war with villages beyond his realm, +he invariably gets out this head, and alone in his grass palace, +contemplates it long and solemnly. At such times the hush of death falls +on the village, and not even a pickaninny dares make a noise. The +head is esteemed the most powerful devil-devil on Malaita, and to the +possession of it is ascribed all of Mauki's greatness. + + + + +“YAH! YAH! YAH!” + +He was a whiskey-guzzling Scotchman, and he downed his whiskey neat, +beginning with his first tot punctually at six in the morning, and +thereafter repeating it at regular intervals throughout the day till +bedtime, which was usually midnight. He slept but five hours out of the +twenty-four, and for the remaining nineteen hours he was quietly and +decently drunk. During the eight weeks I spent with him on Oolong Atoll, +I never saw him draw a sober breath. In fact, his sleep was so short +that he never had time to sober up. It was the most beautiful and +orderly perennial drunk I have ever observed. + +McAllister was his name. He was an old man, and very shaky on his pins. +His hand trembled as with a palsy, especially noticeable when he poured +his whiskey, though I never knew him to spill a drop. He had been +twenty-eight years in Melanesia, ranging from German New Guinea to the +German Solomons, and so thoroughly had he become identified with that +portion of the world, that he habitually spoke in that bastard lingo +called “bech-de-mer.” Thus, in conversation with me, SUN HE COME UP +meant sunrise; KAI-KAI HE STOP meant that dinner was served; and BELLY +BELONG ME WALK ABOUT meant that he was sick at his stomach. He was +a small man, and a withered one, burned inside and outside by ardent +spirits and ardent sun. He was a cinder, a bit of a clinker of a man, a +little animated clinker, not yet quite cold, that moved stiffly and by +starts and jerks like an automaton. A gust of wind would have blown him +away. He weighed ninety pounds. + +But the immense thing about him was the power with which he ruled. +Oolong Atoll was one hundred and forty miles in circumference. One +steered by compass course in its lagoon. It was populated by five +thousand Polynesians, all strapping men and women, many of them standing +six feet in height and weighing a couple of hundred pounds. Oolong was +two hundred and fifty miles from the nearest land. Twice a year a +little schooner called to collect copra. The one white man on Oolong was +McAllister, petty trader and unintermittent guzzler; and he ruled Oolong +and its six thousand savages with an iron hand. He said come, and they +came, go, and they went. They never questioned his will nor judgment. +He was cantankerous as only an aged Scotchman can be, and interfered +continually in their personal affairs. When Nugu, the king's daughter, +wanted to marry Haunau from the other end of the atoll, her father said +yes; but McAllister said no, and the marriage never came off. When the +king wanted to buy a certain islet in the lagoon from the chief priest, +McAllister said no. The king was in debt to the Company to the tune of +180,000 cocoanuts, and until that was paid he was not to spend a single +cocoanut on anything else. + +And yet the king and his people did not love McAllister. In truth, they +hated him horribly, and, to my knowledge, the whole population, with the +priests at the head, tried vainly for three months to pray him to death. +The devil-devils they sent after him were awe-inspiring, but since +McAllister did not believe in devil-devils, they were without power over +him. With drunken Scotchmen all signs fail. They gathered up scraps of +food which had touched his lips, an empty whiskey bottle, a cocoanut +from which he had drunk, and even his spittle, and performed all kinds +of deviltries over them. But McAllister lived on. His health was superb. +He never caught fever; nor coughs nor colds; dysentery passed him by; +and the malignant ulcers and vile skin diseases that attack blacks and +whites alike in that climate never fastened upon him. He must have been +so saturated with alcohol as to defy the lodgment of germs. I used to +imagine them falling to the ground in showers of microscopic cinders as +fast as they entered his whiskey-sodden aura. No one loved him, not even +germs, while he loved only whiskey, and still he lived. + +I was puzzled. I could not understand six thousand natives putting up +with that withered shrimp of a tyrant. It was a miracle that he had not +died suddenly long since. Unlike the cowardly Melanesians, the people +were high-stomached and warlike. In the big graveyard, at head and feet +of the graves, were relics of past sanguinary history--blubber-spades, +rusty old bayonets and cutlasses, copper bolts, rudder-irons, harpoons, +bomb guns, bricks that could have come from nowhere but a whaler's +trying-out furnace, and old brass pieces of the sixteenth century that +verified the traditions of the early Spanish navigators. Ship after +ship had come to grief on Oolong. Not thirty years before, the whaler +BLENNERDALE, running into the lagoon for repair, had been cut off with +all hands. In similar fashion had the crew of the GASKET, a sandalwood +trader, perished. There was a big French bark, the TOULON, becalmed off +the atoll, which the islanders boarded after a sharp tussle and wrecked +in the Lipau Passage, the captain and a handful of sailors escaping in +the longboat. Then there were the Spanish pieces, which told of the +loss of one of the early explorers. All this, of the vessels named, is +a matter of history, and is to be found in the SOUTH PACIFIC SAILING +DIRECTORY. But that there was other history, unwritten, I was yet to +learn. In the meantime I puzzled why six thousand primitive savages let +one degenerate Scotch despot live. + +One hot afternoon McAllister and I sat on the veranda looking out over +the lagoon, with all its wonder of jeweled colors. At our backs, across +the hundred yards of palm-studded sand, the outer surf roared on the +reef. It was dreadfully warm. We were in four degree south latitude and +the sun was directly overhead, having crossed the Line a few days before +on its journey south. There was no wind--not even a catspaw. The season +of the southeast trade was drawing to an early close, and the northwest +monsoon had not yet begun to blow. + +“They can't dance worth a damn,” said McAllister. + +I had happened to mention that the Polynesian dances were superior to +the Papuan, and this McAllister had denied, for no other reason than +his cantankerousness. But it was too hot to argue, and I said nothing. +Besides, I had never seen the Oolong people dance. + +“I'll prove it to you,” he announced, beckoning to the black New Hanover +boy, a labor recruit, who served as cook and general house servant. +“Hey, you, boy, you tell 'm one fella king come along me.” + +The boy departed, and back came the prime minister, perturbed, ill at +ease, and garrulous with apologetic explanation. In short, the king +slept, and was not to be disturbed. + +“King he plenty strong fella sleep,” was his final sentence. + +McAllister was in such a rage that the prime minister incontinently +fled, to return with the king himself. They were a magnificent pair, +the king especially, who must have been all of six feet three inches in +height. His features had the eagle-like quality that is so frequently +found in those of the North American Indian. He had been molded and born +to rule. His eyes flashed as he listened, but right meekly he obeyed +McAllister's command to fetch a couple of hundred of the best dancers, +male and female, in the village. And dance they did, for two mortal +hours, under that broiling sun. They did not love him for it, and little +he cared, in the end dismissing them with abuse and sneers. + +The abject servility of those magnificent savages was terrifying. How +could it be? What was the secret of his rule? More and more I puzzled +as the days went by, and though I observed perpetual examples of his +undisputed sovereignty, never a clew was there as to how it was. + +One day I happened to speak of my disappointment in failing to trade for +a beautiful pair of orange cowries. The pair was worth five pounds +in Sydney if it was worth a cent. I had offered two hundred sticks +of tobacco to the owner, who had held out for three hundred. When I +casually mentioned the situation, McAllister immediately sent for the +man, took the shells from him, and turned them over to me. Fifty sticks +were all he permitted me to pay for them. The man accepted the tobacco +and seemed overjoyed at getting off so easily. As for me, I resolved to +keep a bridle on my tongue in the future. And still I mulled over the +secret of McAllister's power. I even went to the extent of asking +him directly, but all he did was to cock one eye, look wise, and take +another drink. + +One night I was out fishing in the lagoon with Oti, the man who had +been mulcted of the cowries. Privily, I had made up to him an additional +hundred and fifty sticks, and he had come to regard me with a respect +that was almost veneration, which was curious, seeing that he was an old +man, twice my age at least. + +“What name you fella kanaka all the same pickaninny?” I began on him. +“This fella trader he one fella. You fella kanaka plenty fella too +much. You fella kanaka just like 'm dog--plenty fright along that fella +trader. He no eat you, fella. He no get 'm teeth along him. What name +you too much fright?” + +“S'pose plenty fella kanaka kill 'm?” he asked. + +“He die,” I retorted. “You fella kanaka kill 'm plenty fella white man +long time before. What name you fright this fella white man?” + +“Yes, we kill 'm plenty,” was his answer. “My word! Any amount! Long +time before. One time, me young fella too much, one big fella ship he +stop outside. Wind he no blow. Plenty fella kanaka we get 'm canoe, +plenty fella canoe, we go catch 'm that fella ship. My word--we catch 'm +big fella fight. Two, three white men shoot like hell. We no fright. +We come alongside, we go up side, plenty fella, maybe I think fifty-ten +(five hundred). One fella white Mary (woman) belong that fella ship. +Never before I see 'm white Mary. Bime by plenty white man finish. One +fella skipper he no die. Five fella, six fella white man no die. Skipper +he sing out. Some fella white man he fight. Some fella white man he +lower away boat. After that, all together over the side they go. Skipper +he sling white Mary down. After that they washee (row) strong fella +plenty too much. Father belong me, that time he strong fella. He throw +'m one fella spear. That fella spear he go in one side that white Mary. +He no stop. My word, he go out other side that fella Mary. She finish. +Me no fright. Plenty kanaka too much no fright.” + +Old Oti's pride had been touched, for he suddenly stripped down his +lava-lava and showed me the unmistakable scar of a bullet. Before I +could speak, his line ran out suddenly. He checked it and attempted to +haul in, but found that the fish had run around a coral branch. Casting +a look of reproach at me for having beguiled him from his watchfulness, +he went over the side, feet first, turning over after he got under and +following his line down to bottom. The water was ten fathoms. I leaned +over and watched the play of his feet, growing dim and dimmer, as they +stirred the wan phosphorescence into ghostly fires. Ten fathoms--sixty +feet--it was nothing to him, an old man, compared with the value of a +hook and line. After what seemed five minutes, though it could not have +been more than a minute, I saw him flaming whitely upward. He broke +surface and dropped a ten pound rock cod into the canoe, the line and +hook intact, the latter still fast in the fish's mouth. + +“It may be,” I said remorselessly. “You no fright long ago. You plenty +fright now along that fella trader.” + +“Yes, plenty fright,” he confessed, with an air of dismissing the +subject. For half an hour we pulled up our lines and flung them out in +silence. Then small fish-sharks began to bite, and after losing a hook +apiece, we hauled in and waited for the sharks to go their way. + +“I speak you true,” Oti broke into speech, “then you savve we fright +now.” + +I lighted up my pipe and waited, and the story that Oti told me in +atrocious bech-de-mer I here turn into proper English. Otherwise, in +spirit and order of narrative, the tale is as it fell from Oti's lips. + +“It was after that that we were very proud. We had fought many times +with the strange white men who live upon the sea, and always we had +beaten them. A few of us were killed, but what was that compared with +the stores of wealth of a thousand thousand kinds that we found on the +ships? And then one day, maybe twenty years ago, or twenty-five, there +came a schooner right through the passage and into the lagoon. It was a +large schooner with three masts. She had five white men and maybe forty +boat's crew, black fellows from New Guinea and New Britain; and she +had come to fish beche-de-mer. She lay at anchor across the lagoon from +here, at Pauloo, and her boats scattered out everywhere, making camps +on the beaches where they cured the beche-de-mer. This made them weak +by dividing them, for those who fished here and those on the schooner at +Pauloo were fifty miles apart, and there were others farther away still. + +“Our king and headmen held council, and I was one in the canoe that +paddled all afternoon and all night across the lagoon, bringing word +to the people of Pauloo that in the morning we would attack the fishing +camps at the one time and that it was for them to take the schooner. We +who brought the word were tired with the paddling, but we took part +in the attack. On the schooner were two white men, the skipper and the +second mate, with half a dozen black boys. The skipper with three boys +we caught on shore and killed, but first eight of us the skipper killed +with his two revolvers. We fought close together, you see, at hand +grapples. + +“The noise of our fighting told the mate what was happening, and he put +food and water and a sail in the small dingy, which was so small that +it was no more than twelve feet long. We came down upon the schooner, a +thousand men, covering the lagoon with our canoes. Also, we were blowing +conch shells, singing war songs, and striking the sides of the canoes +with our paddles. What chance had one white man and three black boys +against us? No chance at all, and the mate knew it. + +“White men are hell. I have watched them much, and I am an old man now, +and I understand at last why the white men have taken to themselves all +the islands in the sea. It is because they are hell. Here are you in +the canoe with me. You are hardly more than a boy. You are not wise, +for each day I tell you many things you do not know. When I was a little +pickaninny, I knew more about fish and the ways of fish than you know +now. I am an old man, but I swim down to the bottom of the lagoon, and +you cannot follow me. What are you good for, anyway? I do not know, +except to fight. I have never seen you fight, yet I know that you are +like your brothers and that you will fight like hell. Also, you are a +fool, like your brothers. You do not know when you are beaten. You will +fight until you die, and then it will be too late to know that you are +beaten. + +“Now behold what this mate did. As we came down upon him, covering the +sea and blowing our conches, he put off from the schooner in the small +boat, along with the three black boys, and rowed for the passage. There +again he was a fool, for no wise man would put out to sea in so small +a boat. The sides of it were not four inches above the water. Twenty +canoes went after him, filled with two hundred young men. We paddled +five fathoms while his black boys were rowing one fathom. He had no +chance, but he was a fool. He stood up in the boat with a rifle, and he +shot many times. He was not a good shot, but as we drew close many of us +were wounded and killed. But still he had no chance. + +“I remember that all the time he was smoking a cigar. When we were forty +feet away and coming fast, he dropped the rifle, lighted a stick of +dynamite with the cigar, and threw it at us. He lighted another and +another, and threw them at us very rapidly, many of them. I know now +that he must have split the ends of the fuses and stuck in match heads, +because they lighted so quickly. Also, the fuses were very short. +Sometimes the dynamite sticks went off in the air, but most of them went +off in the canoes. And each time they went off in a canoe, that canoe +was finished. Of the twenty canoes, the half were smashed to pieces. The +canoe I was in was so smashed, and likewise the two men who sat next +to me. The dynamite fell between them. The other canoes turned and ran +away. Then that mate yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' at us. Also he went at us +again with his rifle, so that many were killed through the back as they +fled away. And all the time the black boys in the boat went on rowing. +You see, I told you true, that mate was hell. + +“Nor was that all. Before he left the schooner, he set her on fire, +and fixed up all the powder and dynamite so that it would go off at one +time. There were hundreds of us on board, trying to put out the fire, +heaving up water from overside, when the schooner blew up. So that all +we had fought for was lost to us, besides many more of us being killed. +Sometimes, even now, in my old age, I have bad dreams in which I hear +that mate yell, Yah! Yah! Yah!' In a voice of thunder he yells, Yah! +Yah! Yah!' But all those in the fishing camps were killed. + +“The mate went out of the passage in his little boat, and that was the +end of him we made sure, for how could so small a boat, with four men in +it, live on the ocean? A month went by, and then, one morning, between +two rain squalls, a schooner sailed in through our passage and dropped +anchor before the village. The king and the headmen made big talk, and +it was agreed that we would take the schooner in two or three days. In +the meantime, as it was our custom always to appear friendly, we went +off to her in canoes, bringing strings of cocoanuts, fowls, and pigs, to +trade. But when we were alongside, many canoes of us, the men on board +began to shoot us with rifles, and as we paddled away I saw the mate who +had gone to sea in the little boat spring upon the rail and dance and +yell, Yah! Yah! Yah!' + +“That afternoon they landed from the schooner in three small boats +filled with white men. They went right through the village, shooting +every man they saw. Also they shot the fowls and pigs. We who were not +killed got away in canoes and paddled out into the lagoon. Looking back, +we could see all the houses on fire. Late in the afternoon we saw many +canoes coming from Nihi, which is the village near the Nihi Passage in +the northeast. They were all that were left, and like us their village +had been burned by a second schooner that had come through Nihi Passage. + +“We stood on in the darkness to the westward for Pauloo, but in the +middle of the night we heard women wailing and then we ran into a big +fleet of canoes. They were all that were left of Pauloo, which likewise +was in ashes, for a third schooner had come in through the Pauloo +Passage. You see, that mate, with his black boys, had not been drowned. +He had made the Solomon Islands, and there told his brothers of what we +had done in Oolong. And all his brothers had said they would come and +punish us, and there they were in the three schooners, and our three +villages were wiped out. + +“And what was there for us to do? In the morning the two schooners from +windward sailed down upon us in the middle of the lagoon. The trade wind +was blowing fresh, and by scores of canoes they ran us down. And the +rifles never ceased talking. We scattered like flying fish before the +bonita, and there were so many of us that we escaped by thousands, this +way and that, to the islands on the rim of the atoll. + +“And thereafter the schooners hunted us up and down the lagoon. In the +nighttime we slipped past them. But the next day, or in two days or +three days, the schooners would be coming back, hunting us toward +the other end of the lagoon. And so it went. We no longer counted nor +remembered our dead. True, we were many and they were few. But what +could we do? I was in one of the twenty canoes filled with men who were +not afraid to die. We attacked the smallest schooner. They shot us down +in heaps. They threw dynamite into the canoes, and when the dynamite +gave out, they threw hot water down upon us. And the rifles never ceased +talking. And those whose canoes were smashed were shot as they swam +away. And the mate danced up and down upon the cabin top and yelled, +'Yah! Yah! Yah!'” + +“Every house on every smallest island was burned. Not a pig nor a fowl +was left alive. Our wells were defiled with the bodies of the slain, or +else heaped high with coral rock. We were twenty-five thousand on Oolong +before the three schooners came. Today we are five thousand. After the +schooners left, we were but three thousand, as you shall see. + +“At last the three schooners grew tired of chasing us back and forth. So +they went, the three of them, to Nihi, in the northeast. And then they +drove us steadily to the west. Their nine boats were in the water as +well. They beat up every island as they moved along. They drove us, +drove us, drove us day by day. And every night the three schooners and +the nine boats made a chain of watchfulness that stretched across the +lagoon from rim to rim, so that we could not escape back. + +“They could not drive us forever that way, for the lagoon was only so +large, and at last all of us that yet lived were driven upon the last +sand bank to the west. Beyond lay the open sea. There were ten thousand +of us, and we covered the sand bank from the lagoon edge to the pounding +surf on the other side. No one could lie down. There was no room. We +stood hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder. Two days they kept us there, +and the mate would climb up in the rigging to mock us and yell, Yah! +Yah! Yah!' till we were well sorry that we had ever harmed him or his +schooner a month before. We had no food, and we stood on our feet two +days and nights. The little babies died, and the old and weak died, +and the wounded died. And worst of all, we had no water to quench our +thirst, and for two days the sun beat down on us, and there was no +shade. Many men and women waded out into the ocean and were drowned, the +surf casting their bodies back on the beach. And there came a pest of +flies. Some men swam to the sides of the schooners, but they were shot +to the last one. And we that lived were very sorry that in our pride we +tried to take the schooner with the three masts that came to fish for +beche-de-mer. + +“On the morning of the third day came the skippers of the three +schooners and that mate in a small boat. They carried rifles, all of +them, and revolvers, and they made talk. It was only that they were +weary of killing us that they had stopped, they told us. And we told +them that we were sorry, that never again would we harm a white man, and +in token of our submission we poured sand upon our heads. And all the +women and children set up a great wailing for water, so that for some +time no man could make himself heard. Then we were told our punishment. +We must fill the three schooners with copra and beche-de-mer. And we +agreed, for we wanted water, and our hearts were broken, and we knew +that we were children at fighting when we fought with white men who +fight like hell. And when all the talk was finished, the mate stood up +and mocked us, and yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' After that we paddled away in +our canoes and sought water. + +“And for weeks we toiled at catching beche-de-mer and curing it, in +gathering the cocoanuts and turning them into copra. By day and night +the smoke rose in clouds from all the beaches of all the islands of +Oolong as we paid the penalty of our wrongdoing. For in those days of +death it was burned clearly on all our brains that it was very wrong to +harm a white man. + +“By and by, the schooners full of copra and beche-de-mer and our trees +empty of cocoanuts, the three skippers and that mate called us all +together for a big talk. And they said they were very glad that we had +learned our lesson, and we said for the ten-thousandth time that we were +sorry and that we would not do it again. Also, we poured sand upon our +heads. Then the skippers said that it was all very well, but just to +show us that they did not forget us, they would send a devil-devil that +we would never forget and that we would always remember any time we +might feel like harming a white man. After that the mate mocked us +one more time and yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' Then six of our men, whom we +thought long dead, were put ashore from one of the schooners, and the +schooners hoisted their sails and ran out through the passage for the +Solomons. + +“The six men who were put ashore were the first to catch the devil-devil +the skippers sent back after us.” + +“A great sickness came,” I interrupted, for I recognized the trick. +The schooner had had measles on board, and the six prisoners had been +deliberately exposed to it. + +“Yes, a great sickness,” Oti went on. “It was a powerful devil-devil. +The oldest man had never heard of the like. Those of our priests that +yet lived we killed because they could not overcome the devil-devil. +The sickness spread. I have said that there were ten thousand of us +that stood hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder on the sandbank. When the +sickness left us, there were three thousand yet alive. Also, having made +all our cocoanuts into copra, there was a famine. + +“That fella trader,” Oti concluded, “he like 'm that much dirt. He like +'m clam he die KAI-KAI (meat) he stop, stink 'm any amount. He like 'm +one fella dog, one sick fella dog plenty fleas stop along him. We no +fright along that fella trader. We fright because he white man. We savve +plenty too much no good kill white man. That one fella sick dog trader +he plenty brother stop along him, white men like 'm you fight like hell. +We no fright that damn trader. Some time he made kanaka plenty cross +along him and kanaka want 'm kill m, kanaka he think devil-devil and +kanaka he hear that fella mate sing out, Yah! Yah! Yah!' and kanaka no +kill 'm.” + +Oti baited his hook with a piece of squid, which he tore with his teeth +from the live and squirming monster, and hook and bait sank in white +flames to the bottom. + +“Shark walk about he finish,” he said. “I think we catch 'm plenty fella +fish.” + +His line jerked savagely. He pulled it in rapidly, hand under hand, and +landed a big gasping rock cod in the bottom of the canoe. + +“Sun he come up, I make 'm that dam fella trader one present big fella +fish,” said Oti. + + + + +THE HEATHEN + +I met him first in a hurricane; and though we had gone through the +hurricane on the same schooner, it was not until the schooner had gone +to pieces under us that I first laid eyes on him. Without doubt I +had seen him with the rest of the kanaka crew on board, but I had not +consciously been aware of his existence, for the Petite Jeanne was +rather overcrowded. In addition to her eight or ten kanaka seamen, her +white captain, mate, and supercargo, and her six cabin passengers, +she sailed from Rangiroa with something like eighty-five deck +passengers--Paumotans and Tahitians, men, women, and children each with +a trade box, to say nothing of sleeping mats, blankets, and clothes +bundles. + +The pearling season in the Paumotus was over, and all hands were +returning to Tahiti. The six of us cabin passengers were pearl buyers. +Two were Americans, one was Ah Choon (the whitest Chinese I have ever +known), one was a German, one was a Polish Jew, and I completed the half +dozen. + +It had been a prosperous season. Not one of us had cause for complaint, +nor one of the eighty-five deck passengers either. All had done well, +and all were looking forward to a rest-off and a good time in Papeete. + +Of course, the Petite Jeanne was overloaded. She was only seventy tons, +and she had no right to carry a tithe of the mob she had on board. +Beneath her hatches she was crammed and jammed with pearl shell and +copra. Even the trade room was packed full with shell. It was a miracle +that the sailors could work her. There was no moving about the decks. +They simply climbed back and forth along the rails. + +In the night time they walked upon the sleepers, who carpeted the deck, +I'll swear, two deep. Oh! And there were pigs and chickens on deck, and +sacks of yams, while every conceivable place was festooned with strings +of drinking cocoanuts and bunches of bananas. On both sides, between the +fore and main shrouds, guys had been stretched, just low enough for +the foreboom to swing clear; and from each of these guys at least fifty +bunches of bananas were suspended. + +It promised to be a messy passage, even if we did make it in the two +or three days that would have been required if the southeast trades had +been blowing fresh. But they weren't blowing fresh. After the first +five hours the trade died away in a dozen or so gasping fans. The calm +continued all that night and the next day--one of those glaring, glassy, +calms, when the very thought of opening one's eyes to look at it is +sufficient to cause a headache. + +The second day a man died--an Easter Islander, one of the best divers +that season in the lagoon. Smallpox--that is what it was; though how +smallpox could come on board, when there had been no known cases ashore +when we left Rangiroa, is beyond me. There it was, though--smallpox, a +man dead, and three others down on their backs. + +There was nothing to be done. We could not segregate the sick, nor could +we care for them. We were packed like sardines. There was nothing to do +but rot and die--that is, there was nothing to do after the night that +followed the first death. On that night, the mate, the supercargo, the +Polish Jew, and four native divers sneaked away in the large whale boat. +They were never heard of again. In the morning the captain promptly +scuttled the remaining boats, and there we were. + +That day there were two deaths; the following day three; then it +jumped to eight. It was curious to see how we took it. The natives, +for instance, fell into a condition of dumb, stolid fear. The +captain--Oudouse, his name was, a Frenchman--became very nervous and +voluble. He actually got the twitches. He was a large fleshy man, +weighing at least two hundred pounds, and he quickly became a faithful +representation of a quivering jelly-mountain of fat. + +The German, the two Americans, and myself bought up all the Scotch +whiskey, and proceeded to stay drunk. The theory was beautiful--namely, +if we kept ourselves soaked in alcohol, every smallpox germ that came +into contact with us would immediately be scorched to a cinder. And the +theory worked, though I must confess that neither Captain Oudouse nor Ah +Choon were attacked by the disease either. The Frenchman did not drink +at all, while Ah Choon restricted himself to one drink daily. + +It was a pretty time. The sun, going into northern declination, was +straight overhead. There was no wind, except for frequent squalls, which +blew fiercely for from five minutes to half an hour, and wound up by +deluging us with rain. After each squall, the awful sun would come out, +drawing clouds of steam from the soaked decks. + +The steam was not nice. It was the vapor of death, freighted with +millions and millions of germs. We always took another drink when we saw +it going up from the dead and dying, and usually we took two or three +more drinks, mixing them exceptionally stiff. Also, we made it a rule +to take an additional several each time they hove the dead over to the +sharks that swarmed about us. + +We had a week of it, and then the whiskey gave out. It is just as well, +or I shouldn't be alive now. It took a sober man to pull through what +followed, as you will agree when I mention the little fact that only two +men did pull through. The other man was the heathen--at least, that was +what I heard Captain Oudouse call him at the moment I first became aware +of the heathen's existence. But to come back. + +It was at the end of the week, with the whiskey gone, and the pearl +buyers sober, that I happened to glance at the barometer that hung in +the cabin companionway. Its normal register in the Paumotus was 29.90, +and it was quite customary to see it vacillate between 29.85 and 30.00, +or even 30.05; but to see it as I saw it, down to 29.62, was sufficient +to sober the most drunken pearl buyer that ever incinerated smallpox +microbes in Scotch whiskey. + +I called Captain Oudouse's attention to it, only to be informed that he +had watched it going down for several hours. There was little to do, but +that little he did very well, considering the circumstances. He took +off the light sails, shortened right down to storm canvas, spread life +lines, and waited for the wind. His mistake lay in what he did after the +wind came. He hove to on the port tack, which was the right thing to do +south of the Equator, if--and there was the rub--IF one were NOT in the +direct path of the hurricane. + +We were in the direct path. I could see that by the steady increase of +the wind and the equally steady fall of the barometer. I wanted him +to turn and run with the wind on the port quarter until the barometer +ceased falling, and then to heave to. We argued till he was reduced to +hysteria, but budge he would not. The worst of it was that I could not +get the rest of the pearl buyers to back me up. Who was I, anyway, to +know more about the sea and its ways than a properly qualified captain? +was what was in their minds, I knew. + +Of course, the sea rose with the wind frightfully; and I shall never +forget the first three seas the Petite Jeanne shipped. She had fallen +off, as vessels do at times when hove to, and the first sea made a clean +breach. The life lines were only for the strong and well, and little +good were they even for them when the women and children, the bananas +and cocoanuts, the pigs and trade boxes, the sick and the dying, were +swept along in a solid, screeching, groaning mass. + +The second sea filled the Petite Jeanne's decks flush with the rails; +and, as her stern sank down and her bow tossed skyward, all the +miserable dunnage of life and luggage poured aft. It was a human +torrent. They came head first, feet first, sidewise, rolling over and +over, twisting, squirming, writhing, and crumpling up. Now and again +one caught a grip on a stanchion or a rope; but the weight of the bodies +behind tore such grips loose. + +One man I noticed fetch up, head on and square on, with the starboard +bitt. His head cracked like an egg. I saw what was coming, sprang on top +of the cabin, and from there into the mainsail itself. Ah Choon and one +of the Americans tried to follow me, but I was one jump ahead of them. +The American was swept away and over the stern like a piece of chaff. +Ah Choon caught a spoke of the wheel, and swung in behind it. But a +strapping Raratonga vahine (woman)--she must have weighed two hundred +and fifty--brought up against him, and got an arm around his neck. He +clutched the kanaka steersman with his other hand; and just at that +moment the schooner flung down to starboard. + +The rush of bodies and sea that was coming along the port runway between +the cabin and the rail turned abruptly and poured to starboard. Away +they went--vahine, Ah Choon, and steersman; and I swear I saw Ah Choon +grin at me with philosophic resignation as he cleared the rail and went +under. + +The third sea--the biggest of the three--did not do so much damage. By +the time it arrived nearly everybody was in the rigging. On deck perhaps +a dozen gasping, half-drowned, and half-stunned wretches were rolling +about or attempting to crawl into safety. They went by the board, as +did the wreckage of the two remaining boats. The other pearl buyers and +myself, between seas, managed to get about fifteen women and children +into the cabin, and battened down. Little good it did the poor creatures +in the end. + +Wind? Out of all my experience I could not have believed it possible +for the wind to blow as it did. There is no describing it. How can one +describe a nightmare? It was the same way with that wind. It tore the +clothes off our bodies. I say TORE THEM OFF, and I mean it. I am not +asking you to believe it. I am merely telling something that I saw and +felt. There are times when I do not believe it myself. I went through +it, and that is enough. One could not face that wind and live. It was +a monstrous thing, and the most monstrous thing about it was that it +increased and continued to increase. + +Imagine countless millions and billions of tons of sand. Imagine this +sand tearing along at ninety, a hundred, a hundred and twenty, or +any other number of miles per hour. Imagine, further, this sand to be +invisible, impalpable, yet to retain all the weight and density of sand. +Do all this, and you may get a vague inkling of what that wind was like. + +Perhaps sand is not the right comparison. Consider it mud, invisible, +impalpable, but heavy as mud. Nay, it goes beyond that. Consider every +molecule of air to be a mudbank in itself. Then try to imagine the +multitudinous impact of mudbanks. No; it is beyond me. Language may +be adequate to express the ordinary conditions of life, but it cannot +possibly express any of the conditions of so enormous a blast of wind. +It would have been better had I stuck by my original intention of not +attempting a description. + +I will say this much: The sea, which had risen at first, was beaten down +by that wind. More: it seemed as if the whole ocean had been sucked up +in the maw of the hurricane, and hurled on through that portion of space +which previously had been occupied by the air. + +Of course, our canvas had gone long before. But Captain Oudouse had +on the Petite Jeanne something I had never before seen on a South Sea +schooner--a sea anchor. It was a conical canvas bag, the mouth of +which was kept open by a huge loop of iron. The sea anchor was bridled +something like a kite, so that it bit into the water as a kite bites +into the air, but with a difference. The sea anchor remained just under +the surface of the ocean in a perpendicular position. A long line, in +turn, connected it with the schooner. As a result, the Petite Jeanne +rode bow on to the wind and to what sea there was. + +The situation really would have been favorable had we not been in the +path of the storm. True, the wind itself tore our canvas out of the +gaskets, jerked out our topmasts, and made a raffle of our running gear, +but still we would have come through nicely had we not been square in +front of the advancing storm center. That was what fixed us. I was in a +state of stunned, numbed, paralyzed collapse from enduring the impact of +the wind, and I think I was just about ready to give up and die when the +center smote us. The blow we received was an absolute lull. There was +not a breath of air. The effect on one was sickening. + +Remember that for hours we had been at terrific muscular tension, +withstanding the awful pressure of that wind. And then, suddenly, +the pressure was removed. I know that I felt as though I was about +to expand, to fly apart in all directions. It seemed as if every atom +composing my body was repelling every other atom and was on the verge of +rushing off irresistibly into space. But that lasted only for a moment. +Destruction was upon us. + +In the absence of the wind and pressure the sea rose. It jumped, it +leaped, it soared straight toward the clouds. Remember, from every point +of the compass that inconceivable wind was blowing in toward the center +of calm. The result was that the seas sprang up from every point of +the compass. There was no wind to check them. They popped up like corks +released from the bottom of a pail of water. There was no system to +them, no stability. They were hollow, maniacal seas. They were eighty +feet high at the least. They were not seas at all. They resembled no sea +a man had ever seen. + +They were splashes, monstrous splashes--that is all. Splashes that were +eighty feet high. Eighty! They were more than eighty. They went over our +mastheads. They were spouts, explosions. They were drunken. They fell +anywhere, anyhow. They jostled one another; they collided. They rushed +together and collapsed upon one another, or fell apart like a thousand +waterfalls all at once. It was no ocean any man had ever dreamed of, +that hurricane center. It was confusion thrice confounded. It was +anarchy. It was a hell pit of sea water gone mad. + +The Petite Jeanne? I don't know. The heathen told me afterwards that +he did not know. She was literally torn apart, ripped wide open, beaten +into a pulp, smashed into kindling wood, annihilated. When I came to I +was in the water, swimming automatically, though I was about two-thirds +drowned. How I got there I had no recollection. I remembered seeing the +Petite Jeanne fly to pieces at what must have been the instant that my +own consciousness was buffeted out of me. But there I was, with nothing +to do but make the best of it, and in that best there was little +promise. The wind was blowing again, the sea was much smaller and more +regular, and I knew that I had passed through the center. Fortunately, +there were no sharks about. The hurricane had dissipated the ravenous +horde that had surrounded the death ship and fed off the dead. + +It was about midday when the Petite Jeanne went to pieces, and it must +have been two hours afterwards when I picked up with one of her hatch +covers. Thick rain was driving at the time; and it was the merest chance +that flung me and the hatch cover together. A short length of line was +trailing from the rope handle; and I knew that I was good for a day, +at least, if the sharks did not return. Three hours later, possibly +a little longer, sticking close to the cover, and with closed eyes, +concentrating my whole soul upon the task of breathing in enough air to +keep me going and at the same time of avoiding breathing in enough water +to drown me, it seemed to me that I heard voices. The rain had ceased, +and wind and sea were easing marvelously. Not twenty feet away from me, +on another hatch cover were Captain Oudouse and the heathen. They were +fighting over the possession of the cover--at least, the Frenchman was. +“Paien noir!” I heard him scream, and at the same time I saw him kick +the kanaka. + +Now, Captain Oudouse had lost all his clothes, except his shoes, and +they were heavy brogans. It was a cruel blow, for it caught the heathen +on the mouth and the point of the chin, half stunning him. I looked for +him to retaliate, but he contented himself with swimming about forlornly +a safe ten feet away. Whenever a fling of the sea threw him closer, the +Frenchman, hanging on with his hands, kicked out at him with both feet. +Also, at the moment of delivering each kick, he called the kanaka a +black heathen. + +“For two centimes I'd come over there and drown you, you white beast!” I +yelled. + +The only reason I did not go was that I felt too tired. The very thought +of the effort to swim over was nauseating. So I called to the kanaka to +come to me, and proceeded to share the hatch cover with him. Otoo, he +told me his name was (pronounced o-to-o ); also, he told me that he +was a native of Bora Bora, the most westerly of the Society Group. As +I learned afterward, he had got the hatch cover first, and, after some +time, encountering Captain Oudouse, had offered to share it with him, +and had been kicked off for his pains. + +And that was how Otoo and I first came together. He was no fighter. +He was all sweetness and gentleness, a love creature, though he stood +nearly six feet tall and was muscled like a gladiator. He was no +fighter, but he was also no coward. He had the heart of a lion; and in +the years that followed I have seen him run risks that I would never +dream of taking. What I mean is that while he was no fighter, and while +he always avoided precipitating a row, he never ran away from trouble +when it started. And it was “Ware shoal!” when once Otoo went into +action. I shall never forget what he did to Bill King. It occurred +in German Samoa. Bill King was hailed the champion heavyweight of the +American Navy. He was a big brute of a man, a veritable gorilla, one of +those hard-hitting, rough-housing chaps, and clever with his fists as +well. He picked the quarrel, and he kicked Otoo twice and struck him +once before Otoo felt it to be necessary to fight. I don't think it +lasted four minutes, at the end of which time Bill King was the unhappy +possessor of four broken ribs, a broken forearm, and a dislocated +shoulder blade. Otoo knew nothing of scientific boxing. He was merely a +manhandler; and Bill King was something like three months in recovering +from the bit of manhandling he received that afternoon on Apia beach. + +But I am running ahead of my yarn. We shared the hatch cover between us. +We took turn and turn about, one lying flat on the cover and resting, +while the other, submerged to the neck, merely held on with his hands. +For two days and nights, spell and spell, on the cover and in the water, +we drifted over the ocean. Towards the last I was delirious most of the +time; and there were times, too, when I heard Otoo babbling and raving +in his native tongue. Our continuous immersion prevented us from dying +of thirst, though the sea water and the sunshine gave us the prettiest +imaginable combination of salt pickle and sunburn. + +In the end, Otoo saved my life; for I came to lying on the beach twenty +feet from the water, sheltered from the sun by a couple of cocoanut +leaves. No one but Otoo could have dragged me there and stuck up the +leaves for shade. He was lying beside me. I went off again; and the next +time I came round, it was cool and starry night, and Otoo was pressing a +drinking cocoanut to my lips. + +We were the sole survivors of the Petite Jeanne. Captain Oudouse must +have succumbed to exhaustion, for several days later his hatch cover +drifted ashore without him. Otoo and I lived with the natives of the +atoll for a week, when we were rescued by the French cruiser and taken +to Tahiti. In the meantime, however, we had performed the ceremony of +exchanging names. In the South Seas such a ceremony binds two men closer +together than blood brothership. The initiative had been mine; and Otoo +was rapturously delighted when I suggested it. + +“It is well,” he said, in Tahitian. “For we have been mates together for +two days on the lips of Death.” + +“But death stuttered,” I smiled. + +“It was a brave deed you did, master,” he replied, “and Death was not +vile enough to speak.” + +“Why do you 'master' me?” I demanded, with a show of hurt feelings. +“We have exchanged names. To you I am Otoo. To me you are Charley. And +between you and me, forever and forever, you shall be Charley, and I +shall be Otoo. It is the way of the custom. And when we die, if it does +happen that we live again somewhere beyond the stars and the sky, still +shall you be Charley to me, and I Otoo to you.” + +“Yes, master,” he answered, his eyes luminous and soft with joy. + +“There you go!” I cried indignantly. + +“What does it matter what my lips utter?” he argued. “They are only my +lips. But I shall think Otoo always. Whenever I think of myself, I shall +think of you. Whenever men call me by name, I shall think of you. And +beyond the sky and beyond the stars, always and forever, you shall be +Otoo to me. Is it well, master?” + +I hid my smile, and answered that it was well. + +We parted at Papeete. I remained ashore to recuperate; and he went on +in a cutter to his own island, Bora Bora. Six weeks later he was back. +I was surprised, for he had told me of his wife, and said that he was +returning to her, and would give over sailing on far voyages. + +“Where do you go, master?” he asked, after our first greetings. + +I shrugged my shoulders. It was a hard question. + +“All the world,” was my answer--“all the world, all the sea, and all the +islands that are in the sea.” + +“I will go with you,” he said simply. “My wife is dead.” + +I never had a brother; but from what I have seen of other men's +brothers, I doubt if any man ever had a brother that was to him what +Otoo was to me. He was brother and father and mother as well. And this +I know: I lived a straighter and better man because of Otoo. I cared +little for other men, but I had to live straight in Otoo's eyes. Because +of him I dared not tarnish myself. He made me his ideal, compounding +me, I fear, chiefly out of his own love and worship and there were times +when I stood close to the steep pitch of hell, and would have taken +the plunge had not the thought of Otoo restrained me. His pride in me +entered into me, until it became one of the major rules in my personal +code to do nothing that would diminish that pride of his. + +Naturally, I did not learn right away what his feelings were toward me. +He never criticized, never censured; and slowly the exalted place I held +in his eyes dawned upon me, and slowly I grew to comprehend the hurt I +could inflict upon him by being anything less than my best. + +For seventeen years we were together; for seventeen years he was at +my shoulder, watching while I slept, nursing me through fever and +wounds--ay, and receiving wounds in fighting for me. He signed on the +same ships with me; and together we ranged the Pacific from Hawaii to +Sydney Head, and from Torres Straits to the Galapagos. We blackbirded +from the New Hebrides and the Line Islands over to the westward clear +through the Louisades, New Britain, New Ireland, and New Hanover. We +were wrecked three times--in the Gilberts, in the Santa Cruz group, and +in the Fijis. And we traded and salved wherever a dollar promised in +the way of pearl and pearl shell, copra, beche-de-mer, hawkbill turtle +shell, and stranded wrecks. + +It began in Papeete, immediately after his announcement that he was +going with me over all the sea, and the islands in the midst thereof. +There was a club in those days in Papeete, where the pearlers, traders, +captains, and riffraff of South Sea adventurers forgathered. The play +ran high, and the drink ran high; and I am very much afraid that I kept +later hours than were becoming or proper. No matter what the hour was +when I left the club, there was Otoo waiting to see me safely home. + +At first I smiled; next I chided him. Then I told him flatly that I +stood in need of no wet-nursing. After that I did not see him when +I came out of the club. Quite by accident, a week or so later, I +discovered that he still saw me home, lurking across the street among +the shadows of the mango trees. What could I do? I know what I did do. + +Insensibly I began to keep better hours. On wet and stormy nights, in +the thick of the folly and the fun, the thought would persist in coming +to me of Otoo keeping his dreary vigil under the dripping mangoes. +Truly, he made a better man of me. Yet he was not strait-laced. And he +knew nothing of common Christian morality. All the people on Bora +Bora were Christians; but he was a heathen, the only unbeliever on the +island, a gross materialist, who believed that when he died he was dead. +He believed merely in fair play and square dealing. Petty meanness, in +his code, was almost as serious as wanton homicide; and I do believe +that he respected a murderer more than a man given to small practices. + +Concerning me, personally, he objected to my doing anything that was +hurtful to me. Gambling was all right. He was an ardent gambler himself. +But late hours, he explained, were bad for one's health. He had seen men +who did not take care of themselves die of fever. He was no teetotaler, +and welcomed a stiff nip any time when it was wet work in the boats. On +the other hand, he believed in liquor in moderation. He had seen many +men killed or disgraced by square-face or Scotch. + +Otoo had my welfare always at heart. He thought ahead for me, weighed my +plans, and took a greater interest in them than I did myself. At first, +when I was unaware of this interest of his in my affairs, he had to +divine my intentions, as, for instance, at Papeete, when I contemplated +going partners with a knavish fellow-countryman on a guano venture. I +did not know he was a knave. Nor did any white man in Papeete. Neither +did Otoo know, but he saw how thick we were getting, and found out for +me, and without my asking him. Native sailors from the ends of the seas +knock about on the beach in Tahiti; and Otoo, suspicious merely, +went among them till he had gathered sufficient data to justify his +suspicions. Oh, it was a nice history, that of Randolph Waters. I +couldn't believe it when Otoo first narrated it; but when I sheeted it +home to Waters he gave in without a murmur, and got away on the first +steamer to Aukland. + +At first, I am free to confess, I couldn't help resenting Otoo's poking +his nose into my business. But I knew that he was wholly unselfish; and +soon I had to acknowledge his wisdom and discretion. He had his +eyes open always to my main chance, and he was both keen-sighted and +far-sighted. In time he became my counselor, until he knew more of my +business than I did myself. He really had my interest at heart more than +I did. Mine was the magnificent carelessness of youth, for I preferred +romance to dollars, and adventure to a comfortable billet with all night +in. So it was well that I had some one to look out for me. I know that +if it had not been for Otoo, I should not be here today. + +Of numerous instances, let me give one. I had had some experience in +blackbirding before I went pearling in the Paumotus. Otoo and I were on +the beach in Samoa--we really were on the beach and hard aground--when +my chance came to go as recruiter on a blackbird brig. Otoo signed on +before the mast; and for the next half-dozen years, in as many ships, we +knocked about the wildest portions of Melanesia. Otoo saw to it that he +always pulled stroke-oar in my boat. Our custom in recruiting labor was +to land the recruiter on the beach. The covering boat always lay on its +oars several hundred feet off shore, while the recruiter's boat, also +lying on its oars, kept afloat on the edge of the beach. When I landed +with my trade goods, leaving my steering sweep apeak, Otoo left his +stroke position and came into the stern sheets, where a Winchester lay +ready to hand under a flap of canvas. The boat's crew was also armed, +the Sniders concealed under canvas flaps that ran the length of the +gunwales. + +While I was busy arguing and persuading the woolly-headed cannibals to +come and labor on the Queensland plantations Otoo kept watch. And often +and often his low voice warned me of suspicious actions and impending +treachery. Sometimes it was the quick shot from his rifle, knocking a +nigger over, that was the first warning I received. And in my rush to +the boat his hand was always there to jerk me flying aboard. Once, I +remember, on SANTA ANNA, the boat grounded just as the trouble began. +The covering boat was dashing to our assistance, but the several score +of savages would have wiped us out before it arrived. Otoo took a flying +leap ashore, dug both hands into the trade goods, and scattered tobacco, +beads, tomahawks, knives, and calicoes in all directions. + +This was too much for the woolly-heads. While they scrambled for the +treasures, the boat was shoved clear, and we were aboard and forty feet +away. And I got thirty recruits off that very beach in the next four +hours. + +The particular instance I have in mind was on Malaita, the most savage +island in the easterly Solomons. The natives had been remarkably +friendly; and how were we to know that the whole village had been taking +up a collection for over two years with which to buy a white man's head? +The beggars are all head-hunters, and they especially esteem a white +man's head. The fellow who captured the head would receive the whole +collection. As I say, they appeared very friendly; and on this day I was +fully a hundred yards down the beach from the boat. Otoo had cautioned +me; and, as usual when I did not heed him, I came to grief. + +The first I knew, a cloud of spears sailed out of the mangrove swamp +at me. At least a dozen were sticking into me. I started to run, +but tripped over one that was fast in my calf, and went down. The +woolly-heads made a run for me, each with a long-handled, fantail +tomahawk with which to hack off my head. They were so eager for the +prize that they got in one another's way. In the confusion, I avoided +several hacks by throwing myself right and left on the sand. + +Then Otoo arrived--Otoo the manhandler. In some way he had got hold of a +heavy war club, and at close quarters it was a far more efficient weapon +than a rifle. He was right in the thick of them, so that they could +not spear him, while their tomahawks seemed worse than useless. He was +fighting for me, and he was in a true Berserker rage. The way he handled +that club was amazing. + +Their skulls squashed like overripe oranges. It was not until he had +driven them back, picked me up in his arms, and started to run, that +he received his first wounds. He arrived in the boat with four spear +thrusts, got his Winchester, and with it got a man for every shot. Then +we pulled aboard the schooner, and doctored up. + +Seventeen years we were together. He made me. I should today be a +supercargo, a recruiter, or a memory, if it had not been for him. + +“You spend your money, and you go out and get more,” he said one day. +“It is easy to get money now. But when you get old, your money will be +spent, and you will not be able to go out and get more. I know, master. +I have studied the way of white men. On the beaches are many old men +who were young once, and who could get money just like you. Now they are +old, and they have nothing, and they wait about for the young men like +you to come ashore and buy drinks for them. + +“The black boy is a slave on the plantations. He gets twenty dollars a +year. He works hard. The overseer does not work hard. He rides a horse +and watches the black boy work. He gets twelve hundred dollars a year. +I am a sailor on the schooner. I get fifteen dollars a month. That +is because I am a good sailor. I work hard. The captain has a double +awning, and drinks beer out of long bottles. I have never seen him haul +a rope or pull an oar. He gets one hundred and fifty dollars a month. +I am a sailor. He is a navigator. Master, I think it would be very good +for you to know navigation.” + +Otoo spurred me on to it. He sailed with me as second mate on my first +schooner, and he was far prouder of my command than I was myself. Later +on it was: + +“The captain is well paid, master; but the ship is in his keeping, +and he is never free from the burden. It is the owner who is better +paid--the owner who sits ashore with many servants and turns his money +over.” + +“True, but a schooner costs five thousand dollars--an old schooner at +that,” I objected. “I should be an old man before I saved five thousand +dollars.” + +“There be short ways for white men to make money,” he went on, pointing +ashore at the cocoanut-fringed beach. + +We were in the Solomons at the time, picking up a cargo of ivory nuts +along the east coast of Guadalcanar. + +“Between this river mouth and the next it is two miles,” he said. + +“The flat land runs far back. It is worth nothing now. Next year--who +knows?--or the year after, men will pay much money for that land. The +anchorage is good. Big steamers can lie close up. You can buy the land +four miles deep from the old chief for ten thousand sticks of tobacco, +ten bottles of square-face, and a Snider, which will cost you, maybe, +one hundred dollars. Then you place the deed with the commissioner; and +the next year, or the year after, you sell and become the owner of a +ship.” + +I followed his lead, and his words came true, though in three years, +instead of two. Next came the grasslands deal on Guadalcanar--twenty +thousand acres, on a governmental nine hundred and ninety-nine years' +lease at a nominal sum. I owned the lease for precisely ninety days, +when I sold it to a company for half a fortune. Always it was Otoo who +looked ahead and saw the opportunity. He was responsible for the +salving of the Doncaster--bought in at auction for a hundred pounds, and +clearing three thousand after every expense was paid. He led me into the +Savaii plantation and the cocoa venture on Upolu. + +We did not go seafaring so much as in the old days. I was too well off. +I married, and my standard of living rose; but Otoo remained the same +old-time Otoo, moving about the house or trailing through the office, +his wooden pipe in his mouth, a shilling undershirt on his back, and a +four-shilling lava-lava about his loins. I could not get him to spend +money. There was no way of repaying him except with love, and God knows +he got that in full measure from all of us. The children worshipped +him; and if he had been spoilable, my wife would surely have been his +undoing. + +The children! He really was the one who showed them the way of their +feet in the world practical. He began by teaching them to walk. He sat +up with them when they were sick. One by one, when they were scarcely +toddlers, he took them down to the lagoon, and made them into +amphibians. He taught them more than I ever knew of the habits of fish +and the ways of catching them. In the bush it was the same thing. At +seven, Tom knew more woodcraft than I ever dreamed existed. At six, Mary +went over the Sliding Rock without a quiver, and I have seen strong men +balk at that feat. And when Frank had just turned six he could bring up +shillings from the bottom in three fathoms. + +“My people in Bora Bora do not like heathen--they are all Christians; +and I do not like Bora Bora Christians,” he said one day, when I, with +the idea of getting him to spend some of the money that was rightfully +his, had been trying to persuade him to make a visit to his own island +in one of our schooners--a special voyage which I had hoped to make a +record breaker in the matter of prodigal expense. + +I say one of OUR schooners, though legally at the time they belonged to +me. I struggled long with him to enter into partnership. + +“We have been partners from the day the Petite Jeanne went down,” + he said at last. “But if your heart so wishes, then shall we become +partners by the law. I have no work to do, yet are my expenses large. I +drink and eat and smoke in plenty--it costs much, I know. I do not pay +for the playing of billiards, for I play on your table; but still the +money goes. Fishing on the reef is only a rich man's pleasure. It is +shocking, the cost of hooks and cotton line. Yes; it is necessary that +we be partners by the law. I need the money. I shall get it from the +head clerk in the office.” + +So the papers were made out and recorded. A year later I was compelled +to complain. + +“Charley,” said I, “you are a wicked old fraud, a miserly skinflint, +a miserable land crab. Behold, your share for the year in all our +partnership has been thousands of dollars. The head clerk has given me +this paper. It says that in the year you have drawn just eighty-seven +dollars and twenty cents.” + +“Is there any owing me?” he asked anxiously. + +“I tell you thousands and thousands,” I answered. + +His face brightened, as with an immense relief. + +“It is well,” he said. “See that the head clerk keeps good account +of it. When I want it, I shall want it, and there must not be a cent +missing. + +“If there is,” he added fiercely, after a pause, “it must come out of +the clerk's wages.” + +And all the time, as I afterwards learned, his will, drawn up by +Carruthers, and making me sole beneficiary, lay in the American consul's +safe. + +But the end came, as the end must come to all human associations. + +It occurred in the Solomons, where our wildest work had been done in the +wild young days, and where we were once more--principally on a holiday, +incidentally to look after our holdings on Florida Island and to look +over the pearling possibilities of the Mboli Pass. We were lying at +Savo, having run in to trade for curios. + +Now, Savo is alive with sharks. The custom of the woolly-heads of +burying their dead in the sea did not tend to discourage the sharks from +making the adjacent waters a hangout. It was my luck to be coming aboard +in a tiny, overloaded, native canoe, when the thing capsized. There +were four woolly-heads and myself in it, or rather, hanging to it. The +schooner was a hundred yards away. + +I was just hailing for a boat when one of the woolly-heads began to +scream. Holding on to the end of the canoe, both he and that portion of +the canoe were dragged under several times. Then he loosed his clutch +and disappeared. A shark had got him. + +The three remaining niggers tried to climb out of the water upon the +bottom of the canoe. I yelled and cursed and struck at the nearest with +my fist, but it was no use. They were in a blind funk. The canoe could +barely have supported one of them. Under the three it upended and rolled +sidewise, throwing them back into the water. + +I abandoned the canoe and started to swim toward the schooner, expecting +to be picked up by the boat before I got there. One of the niggers +elected to come with me, and we swam along silently, side by side, now +and again putting our faces into the water and peering about for sharks. +The screams of the man who stayed by the canoe informed us that he was +taken. I was peering into the water when I saw a big shark pass directly +beneath me. He was fully sixteen feet in length. I saw the whole thing. +He got the woolly-head by the middle, and away he went, the poor devil, +head, shoulders, and arms out of the water all the time, screeching in +a heart-rending way. He was carried along in this fashion for several +hundred feet, when he was dragged beneath the surface. + +I swam doggedly on, hoping that that was the last unattached shark. +But there was another. Whether it was one that had attacked the natives +earlier, or whether it was one that had made a good meal elsewhere, I do +not know. At any rate, he was not in such haste as the others. I could +not swim so rapidly now, for a large part of my effort was devoted to +keeping track of him. I was watching him when he made his first attack. +By good luck I got both hands on his nose, and, though his momentum +nearly shoved me under, I managed to keep him off. He veered clear, +and began circling about again. A second time I escaped him by the same +manoeuvre. The third rush was a miss on both sides. He sheered at the +moment my hands should have landed on his nose, but his sandpaper hide +(I had on a sleeveless undershirt) scraped the skin off one arm from +elbow to shoulder. + +By this time I was played out, and gave up hope. The schooner was still +two hundred feet away. My face was in the water, and I was watching him +manoeuvre for another attempt, when I saw a brown body pass between us. +It was Otoo. + +“Swim for the schooner, master!” he said. And he spoke gayly, as though +the affair was a mere lark. “I know sharks. The shark is my brother.” + +I obeyed, swimming slowly on, while Otoo swam about me, keeping always +between me and the shark, foiling his rushes and encouraging me. + +“The davit tackle carried away, and they are rigging the falls,” he +explained, a minute or so later, and then went under to head off another +attack. + +By the time the schooner was thirty feet away I was about done for. I +could scarcely move. They were heaving lines at us from on board, but +they continually fell short. The shark, finding that it was receiving no +hurt, had become bolder. Several times it nearly got me, but each time +Otoo was there just the moment before it was too late. Of course, Otoo +could have saved himself any time. But he stuck by me. + +“Good-by, Charley! I'm finished!” I just managed to gasp. + +I knew that the end had come, and that the next moment I should throw up +my hands and go down. + +But Otoo laughed in my face, saying: + +“I will show you a new trick. I will make that shark feel sick!” + +He dropped in behind me, where the shark was preparing to come at me. + +“A little more to the left!” he next called out. “There is a line there +on the water. To the left, master--to the left!” + +I changed my course and struck out blindly. I was by that time barely +conscious. As my hand closed on the line I heard an exclamation from on +board. I turned and looked. There was no sign of Otoo. The next instant +he broke surface. Both hands were off at the wrist, the stumps spouting +blood. + +“Otoo!” he called softly. And I could see in his gaze the love that +thrilled in his voice. + +Then, and then only, at the very last of all our years, he called me by +that name. + +“Good-by, Otoo!” he called. + +Then he was dragged under, and I was hauled aboard, where I fainted in +the captain's arms. + +And so passed Otoo, who saved me and made me a man, and who saved me in +the end. We met in the maw of a hurricane, and parted in the maw of +a shark, with seventeen intervening years of comradeship, the like of +which I dare to assert has never befallen two men, the one brown and the +other white. If Jehovah be from His high place watching every sparrow +fall, not least in His kingdom shall be Otoo, the one heathen of Bora +Bora. + + + + +THE TERRIBLE SOLOMONS + +There is no gainsaying that the Solomons are a hard-bitten bunch of +islands. On the other hand, there are worse places in the world. But to +the new chum who has no constitutional understanding of men and life in +the rough, the Solomons may indeed prove terrible. + +It is true that fever and dysentery are perpetually on the walk-about, +that loathsome skin diseases abound, that the air is saturated with a +poison that bites into every pore, cut, or abrasion and plants malignant +ulcers, and that many strong men who escape dying there return as wrecks +to their own countries. It is also true that the natives of the Solomons +are a wild lot, with a hearty appetite for human flesh and a fad for +collecting human heads. Their highest instinct of sportsmanship is to +catch a man with his back turned and to smite him a cunning blow with a +tomahawk that severs the spinal column at the base of the brain. It is +equally true that on some islands, such as Malaita, the profit and loss +account of social intercourse is calculated in homicides. Heads are a +medium of exchange, and white heads are extremely valuable. Very often a +dozen villages make a jack-pot, which they fatten moon by moon, against +the time when some brave warrior presents a white man's head, fresh and +gory, and claims the pot. + +All the foregoing is quite true, and yet there are white men who have +lived in the Solomons a score of years and who feel homesick when they +go away from them. A man needs only to be careful--and lucky--to live +a long time in the Solomons; but he must also be of the right sort. +He must have the hallmark of the inevitable white man stamped upon his +soul. He must be inevitable. He must have a certain grand carelessness +of odds, a certain colossal self-satisfaction, and a racial egotism that +convinces him that one white is better than a thousand niggers every +day in the week, and that on Sunday he is able to clean out two +thousand niggers. For such are the things that have made the white man +inevitable. Oh, and one other thing--the white man who wishes to be +inevitable, must not merely despise the lesser breeds and think a lot +of himself; he must also fail to be too long on imagination. He must not +understand too well the instincts, customs, and mental processes of the +blacks, the yellows, and the browns; for it is not in such fashion that +the white race has tramped its royal road around the world. + +Bertie Arkwright was not inevitable. He was too sensitive, too finely +strung, and he possessed too much imagination. The world was too much +with him. He projected himself too quiveringly into his environment. +Therefore, the last place in the world for him to come was the Solomons. +He did not come, expecting to stay. A five weeks' stop-over between +steamers, he decided, would satisfy the call of the primitive he felt +thrumming the strings of his being. At least, so he told the lady +tourists on the MAKEMBO, though in different terms; and they worshipped +him as a hero, for they were lady tourists and they would know only +the safety of the steamer's deck as she threaded her way through the +Solomons. + +There was another man on board, of whom the ladies took no notice. He +was a little shriveled wisp of a man, with a withered skin the color of +mahogany. His name on the passenger list does not matter, but his other +name, Captain Malu, was a name for niggers to conjure with, and to +scare naughty pickaninnies to righteousness from New Hanover to the +New Hebrides. He had farmed savages and savagery, and from fever and +hardship, the crack of Sniders and the lash of the overseers, had +wrested five millions of money in the form of bêche-de-mer, sandalwood, +pearl-shell and turtle-shell, ivory nuts and copra, grasslands, trading +stations, and plantations. Captain Malu's little finger, which was +broken, had more inevitableness in it than Bertie Arkwright's whole +carcass. But then, the lady tourists had nothing by which to judge save +appearances, and Bertie certainly was a fine-looking man. + +Bertie talked with Captain Malu in the smoking room, confiding to him +his intention of seeing life red and bleeding in the Solomons. Captain +Malu agreed that the intention was ambitious and honorable. It was not +until several days later that he became interested in Bertie, when that +young adventurer insisted on showing him an automatic 44-caliber pistol. +Bertie explained the mechanism and demonstrated by slipping a loaded +magazine up the hollow butt. + +“It is so simple,” he said. He shot the outer barrel back along the +inner one. “That loads it and cocks it, you see. And then all I have to +do is pull the trigger, eight times, as fast as I can quiver my finger. +See that safety clutch. That's what I like about it. It is safe. It is +positively fool-proof.” He slipped out the magazine. “You see how safe +it is.” + +As he held it in his hand, the muzzle came in line with Captain Malu's +stomach. Captain Malu's blue eyes looked at it unswervingly. + +“Would you mind pointing it in some other direction?” he asked. + +“It's perfectly safe,” Bertie assured him. “I withdrew the magazine. +It's not loaded now, you know.” + +“A gun is always loaded.” + +“But this one isn't.” + +“Turn it away just the same.” + +Captain Malu's voice was flat and metallic and low, but his eyes never +left the muzzle until the line of it was drawn past him and away from +him. + +“I'll bet a fiver it isn't loaded,” Bertie proposed warmly. + +The other shook his head. + +“Then I'll show you.” + +Bertie started to put the muzzle to his own temple with the evident +intention of pulling the trigger. + +“Just a second,” Captain Malu said quietly, reaching out his hand. “Let +me look at it.” + +He pointed it seaward and pulled the trigger. A heavy explosion +followed, instantaneous with the sharp click of the mechanism that +flipped a hot and smoking cartridge sidewise along the deck. + +Bertie's jaw dropped in amazement. + +“I slipped the barrel back once, didn't I?” he explained. “It was silly +of me, I must say.” + +He giggled flabbily, and sat down in a steamer chair. The blood had +ebbed from his face, exposing dark circles under his eyes. His hands +were trembling and unable to guide the shaking cigarette to his lips. +The world was too much with him, and he saw himself with dripping brains +prone upon the deck. + +“Really,” he said, “... really.” + +“It's a pretty weapon,” said Captain Malu, returning the automatic to +him. + +The Commissioner was on board the Makembo, returning from Sydney, and by +his permission a stop was made at Ugi to land a missionary. And at Ugi +lay the ketch ARLA, Captain Hansen, skipper. Now the Arla was one of +many vessels owned by Captain Malu, and it was at his suggestion and +by his invitation that Bertie went aboard the Arla as guest for a four +days' recruiting cruise on the coast of Malaita. Thereafter the ARLA +would drop him at Reminge Plantation (also owned by Captain Malu), where +Bertie could remain for a week, and then be sent over to Tulagi, the +seat of government, where he would become the Commissioner's guest. +Captain Malu was responsible for two other suggestions, which given, he +disappears from this narrative. One was to Captain Hansen, the other +to Mr. Harriwell, manager of Reminge Plantation. Both suggestions were +similar in tenor, namely, to give Mr. Bertram Arkwright an insight into +the rawness and redness of life in the Solomons. Also, it is whispered +that Captain Malu mentioned that a case of Scotch would be +coincidental with any particularly gorgeous insight Mr. Arkwright might +receive............. + +“Yes, Swartz always was too pig-headed. You see, he took four of his +boat's crew to Tulagi to be flogged--officially, you know--then started +back with them in the whaleboat. It was pretty squally, and the boat +capsized just outside. Swartz was the only one drowned. Of course, it +was an accident.” + +“Was it? Really?” Bertie asked, only half-interested, staring hard at +the black man at the wheel. + +Ugi had dropped astern, and the ARLA was sliding along through a summer +sea toward the wooded ranges of Malaita. The helmsman who so attracted +Bertie's eyes sported a ten penny nail, stuck skewerwise through his +nose. About his neck was a string of pants buttons. Thrust through holes +in his ears were a can opener, the broken handle of a toothbrush, a clay +pipe, the brass wheel of an alarm clock, and several Winchester rifle +cartridges. + +On his chest, suspended from around his neck hung the half of a china +plate. Some forty similarly appareled blacks lay about the deck, fifteen +of which were boat's crew, the remainder being fresh labor recruits. + +“Of course it was an accident,” spoke up the ARLA'S mate, Jacobs, +a slender, dark-eyed man who looked more a professor than a sailor. +“Johnny Bedip nearly had the same kind of accident. He was bringing back +several from a flogging, when they capsized him. But he knew how to swim +as well as they, and two of them were drowned. He used a boat stretcher +and a revolver. Of course it was an accident.” + +“Quite common, them accidents,” remarked the skipper. “You see that man +at the wheel, Mr. Arkwright? He's a man eater. Six months ago, he and +the rest of the boat's crew drowned the then captain of the ARLA. They +did it on deck, sir, right aft there by the mizzen-traveler.” + +“The deck was in a shocking state,” said the mate. + +“Do I understand--?” Bertie began. + +“Yes, just that,” said Captain Hansen. “It was an accidental drowning.” + +“But on deck--?” + +“Just so. I don't mind telling you, in confidence, of course, that they +used an axe.” + +“This present crew of yours?” + +Captain Hansen nodded. + +“The other skipper always was too careless,” explained the mate. “He but +just turned his back, when they let him have it.” + +“We haven't any show down here,” was the skipper's complaint. “The +government protects a nigger against a white every time. You can't shoot +first. You've got to give the nigger first shot, or else the government +calls it murder and you go to Fiji. That's why there's so many drowning +accidents.” + +Dinner was called, and Bertie and the skipper went below, leaving the +mate to watch on deck. + +“Keep an eye out for that black devil, Auiki,” was the skipper's parting +caution. “I haven't liked his looks for several days.” + +“Right O,” said the mate. + +Dinner was part way along, and the skipper was in the middle of his +story of the cutting out of the Scottish Chiefs. + +“Yes,” he was saying, “she was the finest vessel on the coast. But when +she missed stays, and before ever she hit the reef, the canoes started +for her. There were five white men, a crew of twenty Santa Cruz boys +and Samoans, and only the supercargo escaped. Besides, there were sixty +recruits. They were all kai-kai'd. Kai-kai?--oh, I beg your pardon. +I mean they were eaten. Then there was the James Edwards, a +dandy-rigged--” + +But at that moment there was a sharp oath from the mate on deck and a +chorus of savage cries. A revolver went off three times, and then was +heard a loud splash. Captain Hansen had sprung up the companionway on +the instant, and Bertie's eyes had been fascinated by a glimpse of him +drawing his revolver as he sprang. + +Bertie went up more circumspectly, hesitating before he put his head +above the companionway slide. But nothing happened. The mate was +shaking with excitement, his revolver in his hand. Once he startled, and +half-jumped around, as if danger threatened his back. + +“One of the natives fell overboard,” he was saying, in a queer tense +voice. “He couldn't swim.” + +“Who was it?” the skipper demanded. + +“Auiki,” was the answer. + +“But I say, you know, I heard shots,” Bertie said, in trembling +eagerness, for he scented adventure, and adventure that was happily over +with. + +The mate whirled upon him, snarling: + +“It's a damned lie. There ain't been a shot fired. The nigger fell +overboard.” + +Captain Hansen regarded Bertie with unblinking, lack-luster eyes. + +“I--I thought--” Bertie was beginning. + +“Shots?” said Captain Hansen, dreamily. “Shots? Did you hear any shots, +Mr. Jacobs?” + +“Not a shot,” replied Mr. Jacobs. + +The skipper looked at his guest triumphantly, and said: + +“Evidently an accident. Let us go down, Mr. Arkwright, and finish +dinner.” + +Bertie slept that night in the captain's cabin, a tiny stateroom off the +main cabin. The for'ard bulkhead was decorated with a stand of rifles. +Over the bunk were three more rifles. Under the bunk was a big drawer, +which, when he pulled it out, he found filled with ammunition, dynamite, +and several boxes of detonators. He elected to take the settee on the +opposite side. Lying conspicuously on the small table, was the Arla's +log. Bertie did not know that it had been especially prepared for the +occasion by Captain Malu, and he read therein how on September 21, two +boat's crew had fallen overboard and been drowned. Bertie read between +the lines and knew better. He read how the Arla's whale boat had +been bushwhacked at Su'u and had lost three men; of how the skipper +discovered the cook stewing human flesh on the galley fire--flesh +purchased by the boat's crew ashore in Fui; of how an accidental +discharge of dynamite, while signaling, had killed another boat's crew; +of night attacks; ports fled from between the dawns; attacks by bushmen +in mangrove swamps and by fleets of salt-water men in the larger +passages. One item that occurred with monotonous frequency was death by +dysentery. He noticed with alarm that two white men had so died--guests, +like himself, on the Arla. + +“I say, you know,” Bertie said next day to Captain Hansen. “I've been +glancing through your log.” + +The skipper displayed quick vexation that the log had been left lying +about. + +“And all that dysentery, you know, that's all rot, just like the +accidental drownings,” Bertie continued. “What does dysentery really +stand for?” + +The skipper openly admired his guest's acumen, stiffened himself to make +indignant denial, then gracefully surrendered. + +“You see, it's like this, Mr. Arkwright. These islands have got a bad +enough name as it is. It's getting harder every day to sign on white +men. Suppose a man is killed. The company has to pay through the nose +for another man to take the job. But if the man merely dies of sickness, +it's all right. The new chums don't mind disease. What they draw the +line at is being murdered. I thought the skipper of the Arla had died of +dysentery when I took his billet. Then it was too late. I'd signed the +contract.” + +“Besides,” said Mr. Jacobs, “there's altogether too many accidental +drownings anyway. It don't look right. It's the fault of the government. +A white man hasn't a chance to defend himself from the niggers.” + +“Yes, look at the Princess and that Yankee mate,” the skipper took up +the tale. “She carried five white men besides a government agent. The +captain, the agent, and the supercargo were ashore in the two boats. +They were killed to the last man. The mate and boson, with about fifteen +of the crew--Samoans and Tongans--were on board. A crowd of niggers came +off from shore. First thing the mate knew, the boson and the crew were +killed in the first rush. The mate grabbed three cartridge belts and two +Winchesters and skinned up to the cross-trees. He was the sole survivor, +and you can't blame him for being mad. He pumped one rifle till it got +so hot he couldn't hold it, then he pumped the other. The deck was black +with niggers. He cleaned them out. He dropped them as they went over the +rail, and he dropped them as fast as they picked up their paddles. Then +they jumped into the water and started to swim for it, and being mad, he +got half a dozen more. And what did he get for it?” + +“Seven years in Fiji,” snapped the mate. + +“The government said he wasn't justified in shooting after they'd taken +to the water,” the skipper explained. + +“And that's why they die of dysentery nowadays,” the mate added. + +“Just fancy,” said Bertie, as he felt a longing for the cruise to be +over. + +Later on in the day he interviewed the black who had been pointed out +to him as a cannibal. This fellow's name was Sumasai. He had spent three +years on a Queensland plantation. He had been to Samoa, and Fiji, and +Sydney; and as a boat's crew had been on recruiting schooners through +New Britain, New Ireland, New Guinea, and the Admiralties. Also, he was +a wag, and he had taken a line on his skipper's conduct. Yes, he had +eaten many men. How many? He could not remember the tally. Yes, white +men, too; they were very good, unless they were sick. He had once eaten +a sick one. + +“My word!” he cried, at the recollection. “Me sick plenty along him. My +belly walk about too much.” + +Bertie shuddered, and asked about heads. Yes, Sumasai had several hidden +ashore, in good condition, sun-dried, and smoke-cured. One was of the +captain of a schooner. It had long whiskers. He would sell it for +two quid. Black men's heads he would sell for one quid. He had some +pickaninny heads, in poor condition, that he would let go for ten bob. + +Five minutes afterward, Bertie found himself sitting on the +companionway-slide alongside a black with a horrible skin disease. He +sheered off, and on inquiry was told that it was leprosy. He hurried +below and washed himself with antiseptic soap. He took many antiseptic +washes in the course of the day, for every native on board was afflicted +with malignant ulcers of one sort or another. + +As the Arla drew in to an anchorage in the midst of mangrove swamps, +a double row of barbed wire was stretched around above her rail. That +looked like business, and when Bertie saw the shore canoes alongside, +armed with spears, bows and arrows, and Sniders, he wished more +earnestly than ever that the cruise was over. + +That evening the natives were slow in leaving the ship at sundown. A +number of them checked the mate when he ordered them ashore. “Never +mind, I'll fix them,” said Captain Hansen, diving below. + +When he came back, he showed Bertie a stick of dynamite attached to a +fish hook. Now it happens that a paper-wrapped bottle of chlorodyne with +a piece of harmless fuse projecting can fool anybody. It fooled Bertie, +and it fooled the natives. When Captain Hansen lighted the fuse and +hooked the fish hook into the tail end of a native's loin cloth, that +native was smitten with so an ardent a desire for the shore that he +forgot to shed the loin cloth. He started for'ard, the fuse sizzling and +spluttering at his rear, the natives in his path taking headers over the +barbed wire at every jump. Bertie was horror-stricken. So was Captain +Hansen. He had forgotten his twenty-five recruits, on each of which he +had paid thirty shillings advance. They went over the side along with +the shore-dwelling folk and followed by him who trailed the sizzling +chlorodyne bottle. + +Bertie did not see the bottle go off; but the mate opportunely +discharging a stick of real dynamite aft where it would harm nobody, +Bertie would have sworn in any admiralty court to a nigger blown to +flinders. The flight of the twenty-five recruits had actually cost the +Arla forty pounds, and, since they had taken to the bush, there was no +hope of recovering them. The skipper and his mate proceeded to drown +their sorrow in cold tea. + +The cold tea was in whiskey bottles, so Bertie did not know it was cold +tea they were mopping up. All he knew was that the two men got very +drunk and argued eloquently and at length as to whether the exploded +nigger should be reported as a case of dysentery or as an accidental +drowning. When they snored off to sleep, he was the only white man left, +and he kept a perilous watch till dawn, in fear of an attack from shore +and an uprising of the crew. + +Three more days the Arla spent on the coast, and three more nights the +skipper and the mate drank overfondly of cold tea, leaving Bertie +to keep the watch. They knew he could be depended upon, while he was +equally certain that if he lived, he would report their drunken conduct +to Captain Malu. Then the Arla dropped anchor at Reminge Plantation, on +Guadalcanar, and Bertie landed on the beach with a sigh of relief and +shook hands with the manager. Mr. Harriwell was ready for him. + +“Now you mustn't be alarmed if some of our fellows seem downcast,” Mr. +Harriwell said, having drawn him aside in confidence. “There's been talk +of an outbreak, and two or three suspicious signs I'm willing to admit, +but personally I think it's all poppycock.” + +“How--how many blacks have you on the plantation?” Bertie asked, with a +sinking heart. + +“We're working four hundred just now,” replied Mr. Harriwell, +cheerfully; “but the three of us, with you, of course, and the skipper +and mate of the Arla, can handle them all right.” + +Bertie turned to meet one McTavish, the storekeeper, who scarcely +acknowledged the introduction, such was his eagerness to present his +resignation. + +“It being that I'm a married man, Mr. Harriwell, I can't very well +afford to remain on longer. Trouble is working up, as plain as the +nose on your face. The niggers are going to break out, and there'll be +another Hohono horror here.” + +“What's a Hohono horror?” Bertie asked, after the storekeeper had been +persuaded to remain until the end of the month. + +“Oh, he means Hohono Plantation, on Ysabel,” said the manager. “The +niggers killed the five white men ashore, captured the schooner, killed +the captain and mate, and escaped in a body to Malaita. But I always +said they were careless on Hohono. They won't catch us napping here. +Come along, Mr. Arkwright, and see our view from the veranda.” + +Bertie was too busy wondering how he could get away to Tulagi to the +Commissioner's house, to see much of the view. He was still wondering, +when a rifle exploded very near to him, behind his back. At the same +moment his arm was nearly dislocated, so eagerly did Mr. Harriwell drag +him indoors. + +“I say, old man, that was a close shave,” said the manager, pawing him +over to see if he had been hit. “I can't tell you how sorry I am. But it +was broad daylight, and I never dreamed.” + +Bertie was beginning to turn pale. + +“They got the other manager that way,” McTavish vouchsafed. “And a +dashed fine chap he was. Blew his brains out all over the veranda. You +noticed that dark stain there between the steps and the door?” + +Bertie was ripe for the cocktail which Mr. Harriwell pitched in and +compounded for him; but before he could drink it, a man in riding +trousers and puttees entered. + +“What's the matter now?” the manager asked, after one look at the +newcomer's face. “Is the river up again?” + +“River be blowed--it's the niggers. Stepped out of the cane grass, not +a dozen feet away, and whopped at me. It was a Snider, and he shot from +the hip. Now what I want to know is where'd he get that Snider?--Oh, I +beg pardon. Glad to know you, Mr. Arkwright.” + +“Mr. Brown is my assistant,” explained Mr. Harriwell. “And now let's +have that drink.” + +“But where'd he get that Snider?” Mr. Brown insisted. “I always objected +to keeping those guns on the premises.” + +“They're still there,” Mr. Harriwell said, with a show of heat. + +Mr. Brown smiled incredulously. + +“Come along and see,” said the manager. + +Bertie joined the procession into the office, where Mr. Harriwell +pointed triumphantly at a big packing case in a dusty corner. + +“Well, then where did the beggar get that Snider?” harped Mr. Brown. + +But just then McTavish lifted the packing case. The manager started, +then tore off the lid. The case was empty. They gazed at one another in +horrified silence. Harriwell drooped wearily. + +Then McVeigh cursed. + +“What I contended all along--the house-boys are not to be trusted.” + +“It does look serious,” Harriwell admitted, “but we'll come through it +all right. What the sanguinary niggers need is a shaking up. Will you +gentlemen please bring your rifles to dinner, and will you, Mr. Brown, +kindly prepare forty or fifty sticks of dynamite. Make the fuses good +and short. We'll give them a lesson. And now, gentlemen, dinner is +served.” + +One thing that Bertie detested was rice and curry, so it happened that +he alone partook of an inviting omelet. He had quite finished his plate, +when Harriwell helped himself to the omelet. One mouthful he tasted, +then spat out vociferously. + +“That's the second time,” McTavish announced ominously. + +Harriwell was still hawking and spitting. + +“Second time, what?” Bertie quavered. + +“Poison,” was the answer. “That cook will be hanged yet.” + +“That's the way the bookkeeper went out at Cape March,” Brown spoke up. +“Died horribly. They said on the Jessie that they heard him screaming +three miles away.” + +“I'll put the cook in irons,” sputtered Harriwell. “Fortunately we +discovered it in time.” + +Bertie sat paralyzed. There was no color in his face. He attempted to +speak, but only an inarticulate gurgle resulted. All eyed him anxiously. + +“Don't say it, don't say it,” McTavish cried in a tense voice. + +“Yes, I ate it, plenty of it, a whole plateful!” Bertie cried +explosively, like a diver suddenly regaining breath. + +The awful silence continued half a minute longer, and he read his fate +in their eyes. + +“Maybe it wasn't poison after all,” said Harriwell, dismally. + +“Call in the cook,” said Brown. + +In came the cook, a grinning black boy, nose-spiked and ear-plugged. + +“Here, you, Wi-wi, what name that?” Harriwell bellowed, pointing +accusingly at the omelet. + +Wi-wi was very naturally frightened and embarrassed. + +“Him good fella kai-kai,” he murmured apologetically. + +“Make him eat it,” suggested McTavish. “That's a proper test.” + +Harriwell filled a spoon with the stuff and jumped for the cook, who +fled in panic. + +“That settles it,” was Brown's solemn pronouncement. “He won't eat it.” + +“Mr. Brown, will you please go and put the irons on him?” Harriwell +turned cheerfully to Bertie. “It's all right, old man, the Commissioner +will deal with him, and if you die, depend upon it, he will be hanged.” + +“Don't think the government'll do it,” objected McTavish. + +“But gentlemen, gentlemen,” Bertie cried. “In the meantime think of me.” + +Harriwell shrugged his shoulders pityingly. + +“Sorry, old man, but it's a native poison, and there are no known +antidotes for native poisons. Try and compose yourself and if--” + +Two sharp reports of a rifle from without, interrupted the discourse, +and Brown, entering, reloaded his rifle and sat down to table. + +“The cook's dead,” he said. “Fever. A rather sudden attack.” + +“I was just telling Mr. Arkwright that there are no antidotes for native +poisons--” + +“Except gin,” said Brown. + +Harriwell called himself an absent-minded idiot and rushed for the gin +bottle. + +“Neat, man, neat,” he warned Bertie, who gulped down a tumbler +two-thirds full of the raw spirits, and coughed and choked from the +angry bite of it till the tears ran down his cheeks. + +Harriwell took his pulse and temperature, made a show of looking out for +him, and doubted that the omelet had been poisoned. Brown and McTavish +also doubted; but Bertie discerned an insincere ring in their voices. +His appetite had left him, and he took his own pulse stealthily under +the table. There was no question but what it was increasing, but he +failed to ascribe it to the gin he had taken. McTavish, rifle in hand, +went out on the veranda to reconnoiter. + +“They're massing up at the cook-house,” was his report. “And they've no +end of Sniders. My idea is to sneak around on the other side and take +them in flank. Strike the first blow, you know. Will you come along, +Brown?” + +Harriwell ate on steadily, while Bertie discovered that his pulse had +leaped up five beats. Nevertheless, he could not help jumping when the +rifles began to go off. Above the scattering of Sniders could be +heard the pumping of Brown's and McTavish's Winchesters--all against a +background of demoniacal screeching and yelling. + +“They've got them on the run,” Harriwell remarked, as voices and +gunshots faded away in the distance. + +Scarcely were Brown and McTavish back at the table when the latter +reconnoitered. + +“They've got dynamite,” he said. + +“Then let's charge them with dynamite,” Harriwell proposed. + +Thrusting half a dozen sticks each into their pockets and equipping +themselves with lighted cigars, they started for the door. And just then +it happened. They blamed McTavish for it afterward, and he admitted +that the charge had been a trifle excessive. But at any rate it went +off under the house, which lifted up cornerwise and settled back on +its foundations. Half the china on the table was shattered, while the +eight-day clock stopped. Yelling for vengeance, the three men rushed out +into the night, and the bombardment began. + +When they returned, there was no Bertie. He had dragged himself away +to the office, barricaded himself in, and sunk upon the floor in a +gin-soaked nightmare, wherein he died a thousand deaths while the +valorous fight went on around him. In the morning, sick and headachey +from the gin, he crawled out to find the sun still in the sky and God +presumable in heaven, for his hosts were alive and uninjured. + +Harriwell pressed him to stay on longer, but Bertie insisted on sailing +immediately on the Arla for Tulagi, where, until the following steamer +day, he stuck close by the Commissioner's house. There were lady +tourists on the outgoing steamer, and Bertie was again a hero, while +Captain Malu, as usual, passed unnoticed. But Captain Malu sent back +from Sydney two cases of the best Scotch whiskey on the market, for he +was not able to make up his mind as to whether it was Captain Hansen or +Mr Harriwell who had given Bertie Arkwright the more gorgeous insight +into life in the Solomons. + + + + +THE INEVITABLE WHITE MAN + +“The black will never understand the white, nor the white the black, as +long as black is black and white is white.” + +So said Captain Woodward. We sat in the parlor of Charley Roberts' pub +in Apia, drinking long Abu Hameds compounded and shared with us by the +aforesaid Charley Roberts, who claimed the recipe direct from Stevens, +famous for having invented the Abu Hamed at a time when he was spurred +on by Nile thirst--the Stevens who was responsible for “With Kitchener +to Kartoun,” and who passed out at the siege of Ladysmith. + +Captain Woodward, short and squat, elderly, burned by forty years of +tropic sun, and with the most beautiful liquid brown eyes I ever saw in +a man, spoke from a vast experience. The crisscross of scars on his bald +pate bespoke a tomahawk intimacy with the black, and of equal intimacy +was the advertisement, front and rear, on the right side of his neck, +where an arrow had at one time entered and been pulled clean through. As +he explained, he had been in a hurry on that occasion--the arrow impeded +his running--and he felt that he could not take the time to break off +the head and pull out the shaft the way it had come in. At the present +moment he was commander of the SAVAII, the big steamer that recruited +labor from the westward for the German plantations on Samoa. + +“Half the trouble is the stupidity of the whites,” said Roberts, +pausing to take a swig from his glass and to curse the Samoan bar-boy +in affectionate terms. “If the white man would lay himself out a bit +to understand the workings of the black man's mind, most of the messes +would be avoided.” + +“I've seen a few who claimed they understood niggers,” Captain Woodward +retorted, “and I always took notice that they were the first to be +kai-kai'd (eaten). Look at the missionaries in New Guinea and the New +Hebrides--the martyr isle of Erromanga and all the rest. Look at the +Austrian expedition that was cut to pieces in the Solomons, in the bush +of Guadalcanar. And look at the traders themselves, with a score of +years' experience, making their brag that no nigger would ever get them, +and whose heads to this day are ornamenting the rafters of the canoe +houses. There was old Johnny Simons--twenty-six years on the raw edges +of Melanesia, swore he knew the niggers like a book and that they'd +never do for him, and he passed out at Marovo Lagoon, New Georgia, had +his head sawed off by a black Mary (woman) and an old nigger with only +one leg, having left the other leg in the mouth of a shark while diving +for dynamited fish. There was Billy Watts, horrible reputation as +a nigger killer, a man to scare the devil. I remember lying at Cape +Little, New Ireland you know, when the niggers stole half a case of +trade-tobacco--cost him about three dollars and a half. In retaliation +he turned out, shot six niggers, smashed up their war canoes and burned +two villages. And it was at Cape Little, four years afterward, that +he was jumped along with fifty Buku boys he had with him fishing +bêche-de-mer. In five minutes they were all dead, with the exception of +three boys who got away in a canoe. Don't talk to me about understanding +the nigger. The white man's mission is to farm the world, and it's a +big enough job cut out for him. What time has he got left to understand +niggers anyway?” + +“Just so,” said Roberts. “And somehow it doesn't seem necessary, after +all, to understand the niggers. In direct proportion to the white man's +stupidity is his success in farming the world--” + +“And putting the fear of God into the nigger's heart,” Captain Woodward +blurted out. “Perhaps you're right, Roberts. Perhaps it's his stupidity +that makes him succeed, and surely one phase of his stupidity is his +inability to understand the niggers. But there's one thing sure, the +white has to run the niggers whether he understands them or not. It's +inevitable. It's fate.” + +“And of course the white man is inevitable--it's the niggers' fate,” + Roberts broke in. “Tell the white man there's pearl shell in some lagoon +infested by ten-thousand howling cannibals, and he'll head there all by +his lonely, with half a dozen kanaka divers and a tin alarm clock for +chronometer, all packed like sardines on a commodious, five-ton ketch. +Whisper that there's a gold strike at the North Pole, and that same +inevitable white-skinned creature will set out at once, armed with pick +and shovel, a side of bacon, and the latest patent rocker--and what's +more, he'll get there. Tip it off to him that there's diamonds on the +red-hot ramparts of hell, and Mr. White Man will storm the ramparts +and set old Satan himself to pick-and-shovel work. That's what comes of +being stupid and inevitable.” + +“But I wonder what the black man must think of the--the inevitableness,” + I said. + +Captain Woodward broke into quiet laughter. His eyes had a reminiscent +gleam. + +“I'm just wondering what the niggers of Malu thought and still must be +thinking of the one inevitable white man we had on board when we visited +them in the DUCHESS,” he explained. + +Roberts mixed three more Abu Hameds. + +“That was twenty years ago. Saxtorph was his name. He was certainly the +most stupid man I ever saw, but he was as inevitable as death. There was +only one thing that chap could do, and that was shoot. I remember the +first time I ran into him--right here in Apia, twenty years ago. That +was before your time, Roberts. I was sleeping at Dutch Henry's hotel, +down where the market is now. Ever heard of him? He made a tidy stake +smuggling arms in to the rebels, sold out his hotel, and was killed in +Sydney just six weeks afterward in a saloon row. + +“But Saxtorph. One night I'd just got to sleep, when a couple of cats +began to sing in the courtyard. It was out of bed and up window, water +jug in hand. But just then I heard the window of the next room go up. +Two shots were fired, and the window was closed. I fail to impress you +with the celerity of the transaction. Ten seconds at the outside. Up +went the window, bang bang went the revolver, and down went the window. +Whoever it was, he had never stopped to see the effect of his shots. He +knew. Do you follow me?--he KNEW. There was no more cat concert, and in +the morning there lay the two offenders, stone dead. It was marvelous +to me. It still is marvelous. First, it was starlight, and Saxtorph shot +without drawing a bead; next, he shot so rapidly that the two reports +were like a double report; and finally, he knew he had hit his marks +without looking to see. + +“Two days afterward he came on board to see me. I was mate, then, on +the Duchess, a whacking big one-hundred-and fifty-ton schooner, a +blackbirder. And let me tell you that blackbirders were blackbirders in +those days. There weren't any government protection for US, either. It +was rough work, give and take, if we were finished, and nothing said, +and we ran niggers from every south sea island they didn't kick us off +from. Well, Saxtorph came on board, John Saxtorph was the name he gave. +He was a sandy little man, hair sandy, complexion sandy, and eyes sandy, +too. Nothing striking about him. His soul was as neutral as his color +scheme. He said he was strapped and wanted to ship on board. Would go +cabin boy, cook, supercargo, or common sailor. Didn't know anything +about any of the billets, but said that he was willing to learn. I +didn't want him, but his shooting had so impressed me that I took him as +common sailor, wages three pounds per month. + +“He was willing to learn all right, I'll say that much. But he was +constitutionally unable to learn anything. He could no more box the +compass than I could mix drinks like Roberts here. And as for steering, +he gave me my first gray hairs. I never dared risk him at the wheel when +we were running in a big sea, while full-and-by and close-and-by were +insoluble mysteries. Couldn't ever tell the difference between a sheet +and a tackle, simply couldn't. The fore-throat-jig and the jib-jig were +all one to him. Tell him to slack off the mainsheet, and before you know +it, he'd drop the peak. He fell overboard three times, and he couldn't +swim. But he was always cheerful, never seasick, and he was the most +willing man I ever knew. He was an uncommunicative soul. Never talked +about himself. His history, so far as we were concerned, began the day +he signed on the DUCHESS. Where he learned to shoot, the stars alone can +tell. He was a Yankee--that much we knew from the twang in his speech. +And that was all we ever did know. + +“And now we begin to get to the point. We had bad luck in the New +Hebrides, only fourteen boys for five weeks, and we ran up before the +southeast for the Solomons. Malaita, then as now, was good recruiting +ground, and we ran into Malu, on the northwestern corner. There's a +shore reef and an outer reef, and a mighty nervous anchorage; but we +made it all right and fired off our dynamite as a signal to the niggers +to come down and be recruited. In three days we got not a boy. The +niggers came off to us in their canoes by hundreds, but they only +laughed when we showed them beads and calico and hatchets and talked of +the delights of plantation work in Samoa. + +“On the fourth day there came a change. Fifty-odd boys signed on and +were billeted in the main-hold, with the freedom of the deck, of course. +And of course, looking back, this wholesale signing on was suspicious, +but at the time we thought some powerful chief had removed the ban +against recruiting. The morning of the fifth day our two boats went +ashore as usual--one to cover the other, you know, in case of trouble. +And, as usual, the fifty niggers on board were on deck, loafing, +talking, smoking, and sleeping. Saxtorph and myself, along with four +other sailors, were all that were left on board. The two boats were +manned with Gilbert Islanders. In the one were the captain, the +supercargo, and the recruiter. In the other, which was the covering boat +and which lay off shore a hundred yards, was the second mate. Both boats +were well-armed, though trouble was little expected. + +“Four of the sailors, including Saxtorph, were scraping the poop rail. +The fifth sailor, rifle in hand, was standing guard by the water-tank +just for'ard of the mainmast. I was for'ard, putting in the finishing +licks on a new jaw for the fore-gaff. I was just reaching for my pipe +where I had laid it down, when I heard a shot from shore. I straightened +up to look. Something struck me on the back of the head, partially +stunning me and knocking me to the deck. My first thought was that +something had carried away aloft; but even as I went down, and before +I struck the deck, I heard the devil's own tattoo of rifles from the +boats, and twisting sidewise, I caught a glimpse of the sailor who +was standing guard. Two big niggers were holding his arms, and a third +nigger from behind was braining him with a tomahawk. + +“I can see it now, the water-tank, the mainmast, the gang hanging on to +him, the hatchet descending on the back of his head, and all under the +blazing sunlight. I was fascinated by that growing vision of death. +The tomahawk seemed to take a horribly long time to come down. I saw it +land, and the man's legs give under him as he crumpled. The niggers held +him up by sheer strength while he was hacked a couple of times more. +Then I got two more hacks on the head and decided that I was dead. So +did the brute that was hacking me. I was too helpless to move, and I lay +there and watched them removing the sentry's head. I must say they did +it slick enough. They were old hands at the business. + +“The rifle firing from the boats had ceased, and I made no doubt that +they were finished off and that the end had come to everything. It was +only a matter of moments when they would return for my head. They were +evidently taking the heads from the sailors aft. Heads are valuable on +Malaita, especially white heads. They have the place of honor in the +canoe houses of the salt-water natives. What particular decorative +effect the bushmen get out of them I didn't know, but they prize them +just as much as the salt-water crowd. + +“I had a dim notion of escaping, and I crawled on hands and knees to +the winch, where I managed to drag myself to my feet. From there I +could look aft and see three heads on top the cabin--the heads of three +sailors I had given orders to for months. The niggers saw me standing, +and started for me. I reached for my revolver, and found they had taken +it. I can't say that I was scared. I've been near to death several +times, but it never seemed easier than right then. I was half-stunned, +and nothing seemed to matter. + +“The leading nigger had armed himself with a cleaver from the galley, +and he grimaced like an ape as he prepared to slice me down. But the +slice was never made. He went down on the deck all of a heap, and I saw +the blood gush from his mouth. In a dim way I heard a rifle go off and +continue to go off. Nigger after nigger went down. My senses began to +clear, and I noted that there was never a miss. Every time that the +rifle went off a nigger dropped. I sat down on deck beside the winch and +looked up. Perched in the crosstrees was Saxtorph. How he had managed +it I can't imagine, for he had carried up with him two Winchesters and +I don't know how many bandoliers of ammunition; and he was now doing the +one only thing in this world that he was fitted to do. + +“I've seen shooting and slaughter, but I never saw anything like that. +I sat by the winch and watched the show. I was weak and faint, and it +seemed to be all a dream. Bang, bang, bang, bang, went his rifle, and +thud, thud, thud, thud, went the niggers to the deck. It was amazing to +see them go down. After their first rush to get me, when about a dozen +had dropped, they seemed paralyzed; but he never left off pumping his +gun. By this time canoes and the two boats arrived from shore, armed +with Sniders, and with Winchesters which they had captured in the boats. +The fusillade they let loose on Saxtorph was tremendous. Luckily for him +the niggers are only good at close range. They are not used to putting +the gun to their shoulders. They wait until they are right on top of +a man, and then they shoot from the hip. When his rifle got too hot, +Saxtorph changed off. That had been his idea when he carried two rifles +up with him. + +“The astounding thing was the rapidity of his fire. Also, he never +made a miss. If ever anything was inevitable, that man was. It was the +swiftness of it that made the slaughter so appalling. The niggers did +not have time to think. When they did manage to think, they went over +the side in a rush, capsizing the canoes of course. Saxtorph never let +up. The water was covered with them, and plump, plump, plump, he dropped +his bullets into them. Not a single miss, and I could hear distinctly +the thud of every bullet as it buried in human flesh. + +“The niggers spread out and headed for the shore, swimming. The water +was carpeted with bobbing heads, and I stood up, as in a dream, and +watched it all--the bobbing heads and the heads that ceased to bob. Some +of the long shots were magnificent. Only one man reached the beach, but +as he stood up to wade ashore, Saxtorph got him. It was beautiful. And +when a couple of niggers ran down to drag him out of the water, Saxtorph +got them, too. + +“I thought everything was over then, when I heard the rifle go off +again. A nigger had come out of the cabin companion on the run for the +rail and gone down in the middle of it. The cabin must have been full +of them. I counted twenty. They came up one at a time and jumped for the +rail. But they never got there. It reminded me of trapshooting. A black +body would pop out of the companion, bang would go Saxtorph's rifle, and +down would go the black body. Of course, those below did not know what +was happening on deck, so they continued to pop out until the last one +was finished off. + +“Saxtorph waited a while to make sure, and then came down on deck. He +and I were all that were left of the DUCHESS'S complement, and I was +pretty well to the bad, while he was helpless now that the shooting was +over. Under my direction he washed out my scalp wounds and sewed them +up. A big drink of whiskey braced me to make an effort to get out. There +was nothing else to do. All the rest were dead. We tried to get up sail, +Saxtorph hoisting and I holding the turn. He was once more the stupid +lubber. He couldn't hoist worth a cent, and when I fell in a faint, it +looked all up with us. + +“When I came to, Saxtorph was sitting helplessly on the rail, waiting to +ask me what he should do. I told him to overhaul the wounded and see if +there were any able to crawl. He gathered together six. One, I remember, +had a broken leg; but Saxtorph said his arms were all right. I lay +in the shade, brushing the flies off and directing operations, while +Saxtorph bossed his hospital gang. I'll be blessed if he didn't make +those poor niggers heave at every rope on the pin-rails before he found +the halyards. One of them let go the rope in the midst of the hoisting +and slipped down to the deck dead; but Saxtorph hammered the others and +made them stick by the job. When the fore and main were up, I told him +to knock the shackle out of the anchor chain and let her go. I had had +myself helped aft to the wheel, where I was going to make a shift at +steering. I can't guess how he did it, but instead of knocking the +shackle out, down went the second anchor, and there we were doubly +moored. + +“In the end he managed to knock both shackles out and raise the staysail +and jib, and the Duchess filled away for the entrance. Our decks were a +spectacle. Dead and dying niggers were everywhere. They were wedged away +some of them in the most inconceivable places. The cabin was full of +them where they had crawled off the deck and cashed in. I put Saxtorph +and his graveyard gang to work heaving them overside, and over they +went, the living and the dead. The sharks had fat pickings that day. +Of course our four murdered sailors went the same way. Their heads, +however, we put in a sack with weights, so that by no chance should they +drift on the beach and fall into the hands of the niggers. + +“Our five prisoners I decided to use as crew, but they decided +otherwise. They watched their opportunity and went over the side. +Saxtorph got two in mid-air with his revolver, and would have shot the +other three in the water if I hadn't stopped him. I was sick of the +slaughter, you see, and besides, they'd helped work the schooner out. +But it was mercy thrown away, for the sharks got the three of them. + +“I had brain fever or something after we got clear of the land. Anyway, +the DUCHESS lay hove to for three weeks, when I pulled myself together +and we jogged on with her to Sydney. Anyway those niggers of Malu +learned the everlasting lesson that it is not good to monkey with a +white man. In their case, Saxtorph was certainly inevitable.” + +Charley Roberts emitted a long whistle and said: + +“Well I should say so. But whatever became of Saxtorph?” + +“He drifted into seal hunting and became a crackerjack. For six years he +was high line of both the Victoria and San Francisco fleets. The seventh +year his schooner was seized in Bering Sea by a Russian cruiser, and all +hands, so the talk went, were slammed into the Siberian salt mines. At +least I've never heard of him since.” + +“Farming the world,” Roberts muttered. “Farming the world. Well here's +to them. Somebody's got to do it--farm the world, I mean.” + +Captain Woodward rubbed the criss-crosses on his bald head. + +“I've done my share of it,” he said. “Forty years now. This will be my +last trip. Then I'm going home to stay.” + +“I'll wager the wine you don't,” Roberts challenged. “You'll die in the +harness, not at home.” + +Captain Woodward promptly accepted the bet, but personally I think +Charley Roberts has the best of it. + + + + +THE SEED OF McCOY + +The Pyrenees, her iron sides pressed low in the water by her cargo of +wheat, rolled sluggishly, and made it easy for the man who was climbing +aboard from out a tiny outrigger canoe. As his eyes came level with the +rail, so that he could see inboard, it seemed to him that he saw a dim, +almost indiscernible haze. It was more like an illusion, like a blurring +film that had spread abruptly over his eyes. He felt an inclination to +brush it away, and the same instant he thought that he was growing old +and that it was time to send to San Francisco for a pair of spectacles. + +As he came over the rail he cast a glance aloft at the tall masts, and, +next, at the pumps. They were not working. There seemed nothing the +matter with the big ship, and he wondered why she had hoisted the signal +of distress. He thought of his happy islanders, and hoped it was not +disease. Perhaps the ship was short of water or provisions. He shook +hands with the captain whose gaunt face and care-worn eyes made no +secret of the trouble, whatever it was. At the same moment the newcomer +was aware of a faint, indefinable smell. It seemed like that of burnt +bread, but different. + +He glanced curiously about him. Twenty feet away a weary-faced sailor +was calking the deck. As his eyes lingered on the man, he saw suddenly +arise from under his hands a faint spiral of haze that curled and +twisted and was gone. By now he had reached the deck. His bare feet were +pervaded by a dull warmth that quickly penetrated the thick calluses. +He knew now the nature of the ship's distress. His eyes roved swiftly +forward, where the full crew of weary-faced sailors regarded him +eagerly. The glance from his liquid brown eyes swept over them like a +benediction, soothing them, rapping them about as in the mantle of a +great peace. “How long has she been afire, Captain?” he asked in a voice +so gentle and unperturbed that it was as the cooing of a dove. + +At first the captain felt the peace and content of it stealing in upon +him; then the consciousness of all that he had gone through and was +going through smote him, and he was resentful. By what right did this +ragged beachcomber, in dungaree trousers and a cotton shirt, suggest +such a thing as peace and content to him and his overwrought, exhausted +soul? The captain did not reason this; it was the unconscious process of +emotion that caused his resentment. + +“Fifteen days,” he answered shortly. “Who are you?” + +“My name is McCoy,” came the answer in tones that breathed tenderness +and compassion. + +“I mean, are you the pilot?” + +McCoy passed the benediction of his gaze over the tall, heavy-shouldered +man with the haggard, unshaven face who had joined the captain. + +“I am as much a pilot as anybody,” was McCoy's answer. “We are all +pilots here, Captain, and I know every inch of these waters.” + +But the captain was impatient. + +“What I want is some of the authorities. I want to talk with them, and +blame quick.” + +“Then I'll do just as well.” + +Again that insidious suggestion of peace, and his ship a raging +furnace beneath his feet! The captain's eyebrows lifted impatiently and +nervously, and his fist clenched as if he were about to strike a blow +with it. + +“Who in hell are you?” he demanded. + +“I am the chief magistrate,” was the reply in a voice that was still the +softest and gentlest imaginable. + +The tall, heavy-shouldered man broke out in a harsh laugh that was +partly amusement, but mostly hysterical. Both he and the captain +regarded McCoy with incredulity and amazement. That this barefooted +beachcomber should possess such high-sounding dignity was inconceivable. +His cotton shirt, unbuttoned, exposed a grizzled chest and the fact that +there was no undershirt beneath. + +A worn straw hat failed to hide the ragged gray hair. Halfway down his +chest descended an untrimmed patriarchal beard. In any slop shop, two +shillings would have outfitted him complete as he stood before them. + +“Any relation to the McCoy of the Bounty?” the captain asked. + +“He was my great-grandfather.” + +“Oh,” the captain said, then bethought himself. “My name is Davenport, +and this is my first mate, Mr. Konig.” + +They shook hands. + +“And now to business.” The captain spoke quickly, the urgency of a great +haste pressing his speech. “We've been on fire for over two weeks. +She's ready to break all hell loose any moment. That's why I held for +Pitcairn. I want to beach her, or scuttle her, and save the hull.” + +“Then you made a mistake, Captain,” said McCoy. “You should have slacked +away for Mangareva. There's a beautiful beach there, in a lagoon where +the water is like a mill pond.” + +“But we're here, ain't we?” the first mate demanded. “That's the point. +We're here, and we've got to do something.” + +McCoy shook his head kindly. + +“You can do nothing here. There is no beach. There isn't even +anchorage.” + +“Gammon!” said the mate. “Gammon!” he repeated loudly, as the captain +signaled him to be more soft spoken. “You can't tell me that sort of +stuff. Where d'ye keep your own boats, hey--your schooner, or cutter, or +whatever you have? Hey? Answer me that.” + +McCoy smiled as gently as he spoke. His smile was a caress, an embrace +that surrounded the tired mate and sought to draw him into the quietude +and rest of McCoy's tranquil soul. + +“We have no schooner or cutter,” he replied. “And we carry our canoes to +the top of the cliff.” + +“You've got to show me,” snorted the mate. “How d'ye get around to the +other islands, heh? Tell me that.” + +“We don't get around. As governor of Pitcairn, I sometimes go. When +I was younger, I was away a great deal--sometimes on the trading +schooners, but mostly on the missionary brig. But she's gone now, and we +depend on passing vessels. Sometimes we have had as high as six calls in +one year. At other times, a year, and even longer, has gone by without +one passing ship. Yours is the first in seven months.” + +“And you mean to tell me--” the mate began. + +But Captain Davenport interfered. + +“Enough of this. We're losing time. What is to be done, Mr. McCoy?” + +The old man turned his brown eyes, sweet as a woman's, shoreward, and +both captain and mate followed his gaze around from the lonely rock of +Pitcairn to the crew clustering forward and waiting anxiously for the +announcement of a decision. McCoy did not hurry. He thought smoothly and +slowly, step by step, with the certitude of a mind that was never vexed +or outraged by life. + +“The wind is light now,” he said finally. “There is a heavy current +setting to the westward.” + +“That's what made us fetch to leeward,” the captain interrupted, +desiring to vindicate his seamanship. + +“Yes, that is what fetched you to leeward,” McCoy went on. “Well, you +can't work up against this current today. And if you did, there is no +beach. Your ship will be a total loss.” + +He paused, and captain and mate looked despair at each other. + +“But I will tell you what you can do. The breeze will freshen tonight +around midnight--see those tails of clouds and that thickness to +windward, beyond the point there? That's where she'll come from, out of +the southeast, hard. It is three hundred miles to Mangareva. Square away +for it. There is a beautiful bed for your ship there.” + +The mate shook his head. + +“Come in to the cabin, and we'll look at the chart,” said the captain. + +McCoy found a stifling, poisonous atmosphere in the pent cabin. Stray +waftures of invisible gases bit his eyes and made them sting. The deck +was hotter, almost unbearably hot to his bare feet. The sweat poured +out of his body. He looked almost with apprehension about him. This +malignant, internal heat was astounding. It was a marvel that the cabin +did not burst into flames. He had a feeling as if of being in a huge +bake oven where the heat might at any moment increase tremendously and +shrivel him up like a blade of grass. + +As he lifted one foot and rubbed the hot sole against the leg of his +trousers, the mate laughed in a savage, snarling fashion. + +“The anteroom of hell,” he said. “Hell herself is right down there under +your feet.” + +“It's hot!” McCoy cried involuntarily, mopping his face with a bandana +handkerchief. + +“Here's Mangareva,” the captain said, bending over the table and +pointing to a black speck in the midst of the white blankness of the +chart. “And here, in between, is another island. Why not run for that?” + +McCoy did not look at the chart. + +“That's Crescent Island,” he answered. “It is uninhabited, and it +is only two or three feet above water. Lagoon, but no entrance. No, +Mangareva is the nearest place for your purpose.” + +“Mangareva it is, then,” said Captain Davenport, interrupting the mate's +growling objection. “Call the crew aft, Mr. Konig.” + +The sailors obeyed, shuffling wearily along the deck and painfully +endeavoring to make haste. Exhaustion was evident in every movement. The +cook came out of his galley to hear, and the cabin boy hung about near +him. + +When Captain Davenport had explained the situation and announced his +intention of running for Mangareva, an uproar broke out. Against a +background of throaty rumbling arose inarticulate cries of rage, with +here and there a distinct curse, or word, or phrase. A shrill Cockney +voice soared and dominated for a moment, crying: “Gawd! After bein' in +ell for fifteen days--an' now e wants us to sail this floatin' ell to +sea again?” + +The captain could not control them, but McCoy's gentle presence seemed +to rebuke and calm them, and the muttering and cursing died away, until +the full crew, save here and there an anxious face directed at the +captain, yearned dumbly toward the green clad peaks and beetling coast +of Pitcairn. + +Soft as a spring zephyr was the voice of McCoy: + +“Captain, I thought I heard some of them say they were starving.” + +“Ay,” was the answer, “and so we are. I've had a sea biscuit and a +spoonful of salmon in the last two days. We're on whack. You see, when +we discovered the fire, we battened down immediately to suffocate the +fire. And then we found how little food there was in the pantry. But it +was too late. We didn't dare break out the lazarette. Hungry? I'm just +as hungry as they are.” + +He spoke to the men again, and again the throat rumbling and cursing +arose, their faces convulsed and animal-like with rage. The second and +third mates had joined the captain, standing behind him at the break of +the poop. Their faces were set and expressionless; they seemed bored, +more than anything else, by this mutiny of the crew. Captain Davenport +glanced questioningly at his first mate, and that person merely shrugged +his shoulders in token of his helplessness. + +“You see,” the captain said to McCoy, “you can't compel sailors to leave +the safe land and go to sea on a burning vessel. She has been their +floating coffin for over two weeks now. They are worked out, and starved +out, and they've got enough of her. We'll beat up for Pitcairn.” + +But the wind was light, the Pyrenees' bottom was foul, and she could not +beat up against the strong westerly current. At the end of two hours she +had lost three miles. The sailors worked eagerly, as if by main strength +they could compel the PYRENEES against the adverse elements. But +steadily, port tack and starboard tack, she sagged off to the westward. +The captain paced restlessly up and down, pausing occasionally to survey +the vagrant smoke wisps and to trace them back to the portions of the +deck from which they sprang. The carpenter was engaged constantly in +attempting to locate such places, and, when he succeeded, in calking +them tighter and tighter. + +“Well, what do you think?” the captain finally asked McCoy, who was +watching the carpenter with all a child's interest and curiosity in his +eyes. + +McCoy looked shoreward, where the land was disappearing in the +thickening haze. + +“I think it would be better to square away for Mangareva. With that +breeze that is coming, you'll be there tomorrow evening.” + +“But what if the fire breaks out? It is liable to do it any moment.” + +“Have your boats ready in the falls. The same breeze will carry your +boats to Mangareva if the ship burns out from under.” + +Captain Davenport debated for a moment, and then McCoy heard the +question he had not wanted to hear, but which he knew was surely coming. + +“I have no chart of Mangareva. On the general chart it is only a fly +speck. I would not know where to look for the entrance into the lagoon. +Will you come along and pilot her in for me?” + +McCoy's serenity was unbroken. + +“Yes, Captain,” he said, with the same quiet unconcern with which +he would have accepted an invitation to dinner; “I'll go with you to +Mangareva.” + +Again the crew was called aft, and the captain spoke to them from the +break of the poop. + +“We've tried to work her up, but you see how we've lost ground. She's +setting off in a two-knot current. This gentleman is the Honorable +McCoy, Chief Magistrate and Governor of Pitcairn Island. He will +come along with us to Mangareva. So you see the situation is not so +dangerous. He would not make such an offer if he thought he was going +to lose his life. Besides, whatever risk there is, if he of his own free +will come on board and take it, we can do no less. What do you say for +Mangareva?” + +This time there was no uproar. McCoy's presence, the surety and calm +that seemed to radiate from him, had had its effect. They conferred with +one another in low voices. There was little urging. They were virtually +unanimous, and they shoved the Cockney out as their spokesman. That +worthy was overwhelmed with consciousness of the heroism of himself and +his mates, and with flashing eyes he cried: + +“By Gawd! If 'e will, we will!” + +The crew mumbled its assent and started forward. + +“One moment, Captain,” McCoy said, as the other was turning to give +orders to the mate. “I must go ashore first.” + +Mr. Konig was thunderstruck, staring at McCoy as if he were a madman. + +“Go ashore!” the captain cried. “What for? It will take you three hours +to get there in your canoe.” + +McCoy measured the distance of the land away, and nodded. + +“Yes, it is six now. I won't get ashore till nine. The people cannot be +assembled earlier than ten. As the breeze freshens up tonight, you +can begin to work up against it, and pick me up at daylight tomorrow +morning.” + +“In the name of reason and common sense,” the captain burst forth, “what +do you want to assemble the people for? Don't you realize that my ship +is burning beneath me?” + +McCoy was as placid as a summer sea, and the other's anger produced not +the slightest ripple upon it. + +“Yes, Captain,” he cooed in his dove-like voice. “I do realize that your +ship is burning. That is why I am going with you to Mangareva. But I +must get permission to go with you. It is our custom. It is an important +matter when the governor leaves the island. The people's interests +are at stake, and so they have the right to vote their permission or +refusal. But they will give it, I know that.” + +“Are you sure?” + +“Quite sure.” + +“Then if you know they will give it, why bother with getting it? Think +of the delay--a whole night.” + +“It is our custom,” was the imperturbable reply. “Also, I am the +governor, and I must make arrangements for the conduct of the island +during my absence.” + +“But it is only a twenty-four hour run to Mangareva,” the captain +objected. “Suppose it took you six times that long to return to +windward; that would bring you back by the end of a week.” + +McCoy smiled his large, benevolent smile. + +“Very few vessels come to Pitcairn, and when they do, they are usually +from San Francisco or from around the Horn. I shall be fortunate if I +get back in six months. I may be away a year, and I may have to go to +San Francisco in order to find a vessel that will bring me back. My +father once left Pitcairn to be gone three months, and two years passed +before he could get back. Then, too, you are short of food. If you have +to take to the boats, and the weather comes up bad, you may be days in +reaching land. I can bring off two canoe loads of food in the morning. +Dried bananas will be best. As the breeze freshens, you beat up against +it. The nearer you are, the bigger loads I can bring off. Goodby.” + +He held out his hand. The captain shook it, and was reluctant to let go. +He seemed to cling to it as a drowning sailor clings to a life buoy. + +“How do I know you will come back in the morning?” he asked. + +“Yes, that's it!” cried the mate. “How do we know but what he's skinning +out to save his own hide?” + +McCoy did not speak. He looked at them sweetly and benignantly, and +it seemed to them that they received a message from his tremendous +certitude of soul. + +The captain released his hand, and, with a last sweeping glance that +embraced the crew in its benediction, McCoy went over the rail and +descended into his canoe. + +The wind freshened, and the Pyrenees, despite the foulness of her +bottom, won half a dozen miles away from the westerly current. At +daylight, with Pitcairn three miles to windward, Captain Davenport made +out two canoes coming off to him. Again McCoy clambered up the side and +dropped over the rail to the hot deck. He was followed by many packages +of dried bananas, each package wrapped in dry leaves. + +“Now, Captain,” he said, “swing the yards and drive for dear life. You +see, I am no navigator,” he explained a few minutes later, as he +stood by the captain aft, the latter with gaze wandering from aloft to +overside as he estimated the Pyrenees' speed. “You must fetch her to +Mangareva. When you have picked up the land, then I will pilot her in. +What do you think she is making?” + +“Eleven,” Captain Davenport answered, with a final glance at the water +rushing past. + +“Eleven. Let me see, if she keeps up that gait, we'll sight Mangareva +between eight and nine o'clock tomorrow morning. I'll have her on the +beach by ten or by eleven at latest. And then your troubles will be all +over.” + +It almost seemed to the captain that the blissful moment had already +arrived, such was the persuasive convincingness of McCoy. + +Captain Davenport had been under the fearful strain of navigating his +burning ship for over two weeks, and he was beginning to feel that he +had had enough. + +A heavier flaw of wind struck the back of his neck and whistled by his +ears. He measured the weight of it, and looked quickly overside. + +“The wind is making all the time,” he announced. “The old girl's +doing nearer twelve than eleven right now. If this keeps up, we'll be +shortening down tonight.” + +All day the Pyrenees, carrying her load of living fire, tore across the +foaming sea. By nightfall, royals and topgallantsails were in, and she +flew on into the darkness, with great, crested seas roaring after her. +The auspicious wind had had its effect, and fore and aft a visible +brightening was apparent. In the second dog-watch some careless soul +started a song, and by eight bells the whole crew was singing. + +Captain Davenport had his blankets brought up and spread on top the +house. + +“I've forgotten what sleep is,” he explained to McCoy. “I'm all in. But +give me a call at any time you think necessary.” + +At three in the morning he was aroused by a gentle tugging at his arm. +He sat up quickly, bracing himself against the skylight, stupid yet from +his heavy sleep. The wind was thrumming its war song in the rigging, and +a wild sea was buffeting the PYRENEES. Amidships she was wallowing first +one rail under and then the other, flooding the waist more often than +not. McCoy was shouting something he could not hear. He reached out, +clutched the other by the shoulder, and drew him close so that his own +ear was close to the other's lips. + +“It's three o'clock,” came McCoy's voice, still retaining its dovelike +quality, but curiously muffled, as if from a long way off. “We've +run two hundred and fifty. Crescent Island is only thirty miles away, +somewhere there dead ahead. There's no lights on it. If we keep running, +we'll pile up, and lose ourselves as well as the ship.” + +“What d' ye think--heave to?” + +“Yes; heave to till daylight. It will only put us back four hours.” + +So the Pyrenees, with her cargo of fire, was hove to, bitting the teeth +of the gale and fighting and smashing the pounding seas. She was a +shell, filled with a conflagration, and on the outside of the shell, +clinging precariously, the little motes of men, by pull and haul, helped +her in the battle. + +“It is most unusual, this gale,” McCoy told the captain, in the lee of +the cabin. “By rights there should be no gale at this time of the year. +But everything about the weather has been unusual. There has been a +stoppage of the trades, and now it's howling right out of the trade +quarter.” He waved his hand into the darkness, as if his vision could +dimly penetrate for hundreds of miles. “It is off to the westward. There +is something big making off there somewhere--a hurricane or something. +We're lucky to be so far to the eastward. But this is only a little +blow,” he added. “It can't last. I can tell you that much.” + +By daylight the gale had eased down to normal. But daylight revealed +a new danger. It had come on thick. The sea was covered by a fog, or, +rather, by a pearly mist that was fog-like in density, in so far as it +obstructed vision, but that was no more than a film on the sea, for the +sun shot it through and filled it with a glowing radiance. + +The deck of the Pyrenees was making more smoke than on the preceding +day, and the cheerfulness of officers and crew had vanished. In the lee +of the galley the cabin boy could be heard whimpering. It was his first +voyage, and the fear of death was at his heart. The captain wandered +about like a lost soul, nervously chewing his mustache, scowling, unable +to make up his mind what to do. + +“What do you think?” he asked, pausing by the side of McCoy, who was +making a breakfast off fried bananas and a mug of water. + +McCoy finished the last banana, drained the mug, and looked slowly +around. In his eyes was a smile of tenderness as he said: + +“Well, Captain, we might as well drive as burn. Your decks are not going +to hold out forever. They are hotter this morning. You haven't a pair of +shoes I can wear? It is getting uncomfortable for my bare feet.” + +The Pyrenees shipped two heavy seas as she was swung off and put once +more before it, and the first mate expressed a desire to have all that +water down in the hold, if only it could be introduced without taking +off the hatches. McCoy ducked his head into the binnacle and watched the +course set. + +“I'd hold her up some more, Captain,” he said. “She's been making drift +when hove to.” + +“I've set it to a point higher already,” was the answer. “Isn't that +enough?” + +“I'd make it two points, Captain. This bit of a blow kicked that +westerly current ahead faster than you imagine.” + +Captain Davenport compromised on a point and a half, and then went +aloft, accompanied by McCoy and the first mate, to keep a lookout for +land. Sail had been made, so that the Pyrenees was doing ten knots. The +following sea was dying down rapidly. There was no break in the pearly +fog, and by ten o'clock Captain Davenport was growing nervous. All hands +were at their stations, ready, at the first warning of land ahead, to +spring like fiends to the task of bringing the Pyrenees up on the wind. +That land ahead, a surf-washed outer reef, would be perilously close +when it revealed itself in such a fog. + +Another hour passed. The three watchers aloft stared intently into the +pearly radiance. “What if we miss Mangareva?” Captain Davenport asked +abruptly. + +McCoy, without shifting his gaze, answered softly: + +“Why, let her drive, captain. That is all we can do. All the Paumotus +are before us. We can drive for a thousand miles through reefs and +atolls. We are bound to fetch up somewhere.” + +“Then drive it is.” Captain Davenport evidenced his intention of +descending to the deck. “We've missed Mangareva. God knows where +the next land is. I wish I'd held her up that other half-point,” he +confessed a moment later. “This cursed current plays the devil with a +navigator.” + +“The old navigators called the Paumotus the Dangerous Archipelago,” + McCoy said, when they had regained the poop. “This very current was +partly responsible for that name.” + +“I was talking with a sailor chap in Sydney, once,” said Mr. Konig. +“He'd been trading in the Paumotus. He told me insurance was eighteen +per cent. Is that right?” + +McCoy smiled and nodded. + +“Except that they don't insure,” he explained. “The owners write off +twenty per cent of the cost of their schooners each year.” + +“My God!” Captain Davenport groaned. “That makes the life of a schooner +only five years!” He shook his head sadly, murmuring, “Bad waters! Bad +waters!” + +Again they went into the cabin to consult the big general chart; but the +poisonous vapors drove them coughing and gasping on deck. + +“Here is Moerenhout Island,” Captain Davenport pointed it out on the +chart, which he had spread on the house. “It can't be more than a +hundred miles to leeward.” + +“A hundred and ten.” McCoy shook his head doubtfully. “It might be done, +but it is very difficult. I might beach her, and then again I might put +her on the reef. A bad place, a very bad place.” + +“We'll take the chance,” was Captain Davenport's decision, as he set +about working out the course. + +Sail was shortened early in the afternoon, to avoid running past in +the night; and in the second dog-watch the crew manifested its regained +cheerfulness. Land was so very near, and their troubles would be over in +the morning. + +But morning broke clear, with a blazing tropic sun. The southeast trade +had swung around to the eastward, and was driving the PYRENEES through +the water at an eight-knot clip. Captain Davenport worked up his dead +reckoning, allowing generously for drift, and announced Moerenhout +Island to be not more than ten miles off. The Pyrenees sailed the +ten miles; she sailed ten miles more; and the lookouts at the three +mastheads saw naught but the naked, sun-washed sea. + +“But the land is there, I tell you,” Captain Davenport shouted to them +from the poop. + +McCoy smiled soothingly, but the captain glared about him like a madman, +fetched his sextant, and took a chronometer sight. + +“I knew I was right,” he almost shouted, when he had worked up the +observation. “Twenty-one, fifty-five, south; one-thirty-six, two, west. +There you are. We're eight miles to windward yet. What did you make it +out, Mr. Konig?” + +The first mate glanced at his own figures, and said in a low voice: + +“Twenty-one, fifty-five all right; but my longitude's one-thirty-six, +forty-eight. That puts us considerably to leeward--” + +But Captain Davenport ignored his figures with so contemptuous a silence +as to make Mr. Konig grit his teeth and curse savagely under his breath. + +“Keep her off,” the captain ordered the man at the wheel. “Three +points--steady there, as she goes!” + +Then he returned to his figures and worked them over. The sweat poured +from his face. He chewed his mustache, his lips, and his pencil, staring +at the figures as a man might at a ghost. Suddenly, with a fierce, +muscular outburst, he crumpled the scribbled paper in his fist and +crushed it under foot. Mr. Konig grinned vindictively and turned away, +while Captain Davenport leaned against the cabin and for half an +hour spoke no word, contenting himself with gazing to leeward with an +expression of musing hopelessness on his face. + +“Mr. McCoy,” he broke silence abruptly. “The chart indicates a group +of islands, but not how many, off there to the north'ard, or +nor'-nor'westward, about forty miles--the Acteon Islands. What about +them?” + +“There are four, all low,” McCoy answered. “First to the southeast is +Matuerui--no people, no entrance to the lagoon. Then comes Tenarunga. +There used to be about a dozen people there, but they may be all gone +now. Anyway, there is no entrance for a ship--only a boat entrance, +with a fathom of water. Vehauga and Teua-raro are the other two. No +entrances, no people, very low. There is no bed for the Pyrenees in that +group. She would be a total wreck.” + +“Listen to that!” Captain Davenport was frantic. “No people! No +entrances! What in the devil are islands good for? + +“Well, then,” he barked suddenly, like an excited terrier, “the chart +gives a whole mess of islands off to the nor'west. What about them? What +one has an entrance where I can lay my ship?” + +McCoy calmly considered. He did not refer to the chart. All these +islands, reefs, shoals, lagoons, entrances, and distances were marked +on the chart of his memory. He knew them as the city dweller knows his +buildings, streets, and alleys. + +“Papakena and Vanavana are off there to the westward, or +west-nor'westward a hundred miles and a bit more,” he said. “One is +uninhabited, and I heard that the people on the other had gone off to +Cadmus Island. Anyway, neither lagoon has an entrance. Ahunui is another +hundred miles on to the nor'west. No entrance, no people.” + +“Well, forty miles beyond them are two islands?” Captain Davenport +queried, raising his head from the chart. + +McCoy shook his head. + +“Paros and Manuhungi--no entrances, no people. Nengo-Nengo is forty +miles beyond them, in turn, and it has no people and no entrance. But +there is Hao Island. It is just the place. The lagoon is thirty miles +long and five miles wide. There are plenty of people. You can usually +find water. And any ship in the world can go through the entrance.” + +He ceased and gazed solicitously at Captain Davenport, who, bending over +the chart with a pair of dividers in hand, had just emitted a low groan. + +“Is there any lagoon with an entrance anywhere nearer than Hao Island?” + he asked. + +“No, Captain; that is the nearest.” + +“Well, it's three hundred and forty miles.” Captain Davenport was +speaking very slowly, with decision. “I won't risk the responsibility of +all these lives. I'll wreck her on the Acteons. And she's a good ship, +too,” he added regretfully, after altering the course, this time making +more allowance than ever for the westerly current. + +An hour later the sky was overcast. The southeast trade still held, but +the ocean was a checker board of squalls. + +“We'll be there by one o'clock,” Captain Davenport announced +confidently. “By two o'clock at the outside. McCoy, you put her ashore +on the one where the people are.” + +The sun did not appear again, nor, at one o'clock, was any land to be +seen. Captain Davenport looked astern at the Pyrenees' canting wake. + +“Good Lord!” he cried. “An easterly current? Look at that!” + +Mr. Konig was incredulous. McCoy was noncommittal, though he said that +in the Paumotus there was no reason why it should not be an easterly +current. A few minutes later a squall robbed the Pyrenees temporarily of +all her wind, and she was left rolling heavily in the trough. + +“Where's that deep lead? Over with it, you there!” Captain Davenport +held the lead line and watched it sag off to the northeast. “There, look +at that! Take hold of it for yourself.” + +McCoy and the mate tried it, and felt the line thrumming and vibrating +savagely to the grip of the tidal stream. + +“A four-knot current,” said Mr. Konig. + +“An easterly current instead of a westerly,” said Captain “Davenport, +glaring accusingly at McCoy, as if to cast the blame for it upon him. + +“That is one of the reasons, Captain, for insurance being eighteen per +cent in these waters,” McCoy answered cheerfully. “You can never tell. +The currents are always changing. There was a man who wrote books, I +forget his name, in the yacht Casco. He missed Takaroa by thirty miles +and fetched Tikei, all because of the shifting currents. You are up to +windward now, and you'd better keep off a few points.” + +“But how much has this current set me?” the captain demanded irately. +“How am I to know how much to keep off?” + +“I don't know, Captain,” McCoy said with great gentleness. + +The wind returned, and the PYRENEES, her deck smoking and shimmering in +the bright gray light, ran off dead to leeward. Then she worked back, +port tack and starboard tack, crisscrossing her track, combing the sea +for the Acteon Islands, which the masthead lookouts failed to sight. + +Captain Davenport was beside himself. His rage took the form of sullen +silence, and he spent the afternoon in pacing the poop or leaning +against the weather shrouds. At nightfall, without even consulting +McCoy, he squared away and headed into the northwest. Mr. Konig, +surreptitiously consulting chart and binnacle, and McCoy, openly and +innocently consulting the binnacle, knew that they were running for Hao +Island. By midnight the squalls ceased, and the stars came out. Captain +Davenport was cheered by the promise of a clear day. + +“I'll get an observation in the morning,” he told McCoy, “though what +my latitude is, is a puzzler. But I'll use the Sumner method, and settle +that. Do you know the Sumner line?” + +And thereupon he explained it in detail to McCoy. + +The day proved clear, the trade blew steadily out of the east, and the +Pyrenees just as steadily logged her nine knots. Both the captain and +mate worked out the position on a Sumner line, and agreed, and at noon +agreed again, and verified the morning sights by the noon sights. + +“Another twenty-four hours and we'll be there,” Captain Davenport +assured McCoy. “It's a miracle the way the old girl's decks hold out. +But they can't last. They can't last. Look at them smoke, more and +more every day. Yet it was a tight deck to begin with, fresh-calked in +Frisco. I was surprised when the fire first broke out and we battened +down. Look at that!” + +He broke off to gaze with dropped jaw at a spiral of smoke that coiled +and twisted in the lee of the mizzenmast twenty feet above the deck. + +“Now, how did that get there?” he demanded indignantly. + +Beneath it there was no smoke. Crawling up from the deck, sheltered from +the wind by the mast, by some freak it took form and visibility at that +height. It writhed away from the mast, and for a moment overhung the +captain like some threatening portent. The next moment the wind whisked +it away, and the captain's jaw returned to place. + +“As I was saying, when we first battened down, I was surprised. It was +a tight deck, yet it leaked smoke like a sieve. And we've calked and +calked ever since. There must be tremendous pressure underneath to drive +so much smoke through.” + +That afternoon the sky became overcast again, and squally, drizzly +weather set in. The wind shifted back and forth between southeast and +northeast, and at midnight the Pyrenees was caught aback by a sharp +squall from the southwest, from which point the wind continued to blow +intermittently. + +“We won't make Hao until ten or eleven,” Captain Davenport complained +at seven in the morning, when the fleeting promise of the sun had been +erased by hazy cloud masses in the eastern sky. And the next moment he +was plaintively demanding, “And what are the currents doing?” + +Lookouts at the mastheads could report no land, and the day passed in +drizzling calms and violent squalls. By nightfall a heavy sea began +to make from the west. The barometer had fallen to 29.50. There was no +wind, and still the ominous sea continued to increase. Soon the +Pyrenees was rolling madly in the huge waves that marched in an unending +procession from out of the darkness of the west. Sail was shortened as +fast as both watches could work, and, when the tired crew had finished, +its grumbling and complaining voices, peculiarly animal-like and +menacing, could be heard in the darkness. Once the starboard watch was +called aft to lash down and make secure, and the men openly advertised +their sullenness and unwillingness. Every slow movement was a protest +and a threat. The atmosphere was moist and sticky like mucilage, and in +the absence of wind all hands seemed to pant and gasp for air. The sweat +stood out on faces and bare arms, and Captain Davenport for one, his +face more gaunt and care-worn than ever, and his eyes troubled and +staring, was oppressed by a feeling of impending calamity. + +“It's off to the westward,” McCoy said encouragingly. “At worst, we'll +be only on the edge of it.” + +But Captain Davenport refused to be comforted, and by the light of a +lantern read up the chapter in his Epitome that related to the strategy +of shipmasters in cyclonic storms. From somewhere amidships the silence +was broken by a low whimpering from the cabin boy. + +“Oh, shut up!” Captain Davenport yelled suddenly and with such force as +to startle every man on board and to frighten the offender into a wild +wail of terror. + +“Mr. Konig,” the captain said in a voice that trembled with rage and +nerves, “will you kindly step for'ard and stop that brat's mouth with a +deck mop?” + +But it was McCoy who went forward, and in a few minutes had the boy +comforted and asleep. + +Shortly before daybreak the first breath of air began to move from out +the southeast, increasing swiftly to a stiff and stiffer breeze. All +hands were on deck waiting for what might be behind it. “We're all +right now, Captain,” said McCoy, standing close to his shoulder. “The +hurricane is to the west'ard, and we are south of it. This breeze is the +in-suck. It won't blow any harder. You can begin to put sail on her.” + +“But what's the good? Where shall I sail? This is the second day without +observations, and we should have sighted Hao Island yesterday morning. +Which way does it bear, north, south, east, or what? Tell me that, and +I'll make sail in a jiffy.” + +“I am no navigator, Captain,” McCoy said in his mild way. + +“I used to think I was one,” was the retort, “before I got into these +Paumotus.” + +At midday the cry of “Breakers ahead!” was heard from the lookout. The +Pyrenees was kept off, and sail after sail was loosed and sheeted home. +The Pyrenees was sliding through the water and fighting a current that +threatened to set her down upon the breakers. Officers and men were +working like mad, cook and cabin boy, Captain Davenport himself, and +McCoy all lending a hand. It was a close shave. It was a low shoal, a +bleak and perilous place over which the seas broke unceasingly, where no +man could live, and on which not even sea birds could rest. The PYRENEES +was swept within a hundred yards of it before the wind carried her +clear, and at this moment the panting crew, its work done, burst out +in a torrent of curses upon the head of McCoy--of McCoy who had come on +board, and proposed the run to Mangareva, and lured them all away from +the safety of Pitcairn Island to certain destruction in this baffling +and terrible stretch of sea. But McCoy's tranquil soul was undisturbed. +He smiled at them with simple and gracious benevolence, and, somehow, +the exalted goodness of him seemed to penetrate to their dark and somber +souls, shaming them, and from very shame stilling the curses vibrating +in their throats. + +“Bad waters! Bad waters!” Captain Davenport was murmuring as his ship +forged clear; but he broke off abruptly to gaze at the shoal which +should have been dead astern, but which was already on the PYRENEES' +weather-quarter and working up rapidly to windward. + +He sat down and buried his face in his hands. And the first mate saw, +and McCoy saw, and the crew saw, what he had seen. South of the shoal +an easterly current had set them down upon it; north of the shoal an +equally swift westerly current had clutched the ship and was sweeping +her away. + +“I've heard of these Paumotus before,” the captain groaned, lifting +his blanched face from his hands. “Captain Moyendale told me about them +after losing his ship on them. And I laughed at him behind his back. God +forgive me, I laughed at him. What shoal is that?” he broke off, to ask +McCoy. + +“I don't know, Captain.” + +“Why don't you know?” + +“Because I never saw it before, and because I have never heard of it. I +do know that it is not charted. These waters have never been thoroughly +surveyed.” + +“Then you don't know where we are?” + +“No more than you do,” McCoy said gently. + +At four in the afternoon cocoanut trees were sighted, apparently growing +out of the water. A little later the low land of an atoll was raised +above the sea. + +“I know where we are now, Captain.” McCoy lowered the glasses from his +eyes. “That's Resolution Island. We are forty miles beyond Hao Island, +and the wind is in our teeth.” + +“Get ready to beach her then. Where's the entrance?” + +“There's only a canoe passage. But now that we know where we are, we can +run for Barclay de Tolley. It is only one hundred and twenty miles +from here, due nor'-nor'west. With this breeze we can be there by nine +o'clock tomorrow morning.” + +Captain Davenport consulted the chart and debated with himself. + +“If we wreck her here,” McCoy added, “we'd have to make the run to +Barclay de Tolley in the boats just the same.” + +The captain gave his orders, and once more the Pyrenees swung off for +another run across the inhospitable sea. + +And the middle of the next afternoon saw despair and mutiny on her +smoking deck. The current had accelerated, the wind had slackened, and +the Pyrenees had sagged off to the west. The lookout sighted Barclay de +Tolley to the eastward, barely visible from the masthead, and vainly and +for hours the PYRENEES tried to beat up to it. Ever, like a mirage, the +cocoanut trees hovered on the horizon, visible only from the masthead. +From the deck they were hidden by the bulge of the world. + +Again Captain Davenport consulted McCoy and the chart. Makemo lay +seventy-five miles to the southwest. Its lagoon was thirty miles long, +and its entrance was excellent. When Captain Davenport gave his orders, +the crew refused duty. They announced that they had had enough of hell +fire under their feet. There was the land. What if the ship could not +make it? They could make it in the boats. Let her burn, then. Their +lives amounted to something to them. They had served faithfully the +ship, now they were going to serve themselves. + +They sprang to the boats, brushing the second and third mates out of the +way, and proceeded to swing the boats out and to prepare to lower away. +Captain Davenport and the first mate, revolvers in hand, were advancing +to the break of the poop, when McCoy, who had climbed on top of the +cabin, began to speak. + +He spoke to the sailors, and at the first sound of his dovelike, +cooing voice they paused to hear. He extended to them his own ineffable +serenity and peace. His soft voice and simple thoughts flowed out +to them in a magic stream, soothing them against their wills. Long +forgotten things came back to them, and some remembered lullaby songs of +childhood and the content and rest of the mother's arm at the end of the +day. There was no more trouble, no more danger, no more irk, in all +the world. Everything was as it should be, and it was only a matter of +course that they should turn their backs upon the land and put to sea +once more with hell fire hot beneath their feet. + +McCoy spoke simply; but it was not what he spoke. It was his personality +that spoke more eloquently than any word he could utter. It was an +alchemy of soul occultly subtile and profoundly deep--a mysterious +emanation of the spirit, seductive, sweetly humble, and terribly +imperious. It was illumination in the dark crypts of their souls, a +compulsion of purity and gentleness vastly greater than that which +resided in the shining, death-spitting revolvers of the officers. + +The men wavered reluctantly where they stood, and those who had loosed +the turns made them fast again. Then one, and then another, and then all +of them, began to sidle awkwardly away. + +McCoy's face was beaming with childlike pleasure as he descended from +the top of the cabin. There was no trouble. For that matter there had +been no trouble averted. There never had been any trouble, for there was +no place for such in the blissful world in which he lived. + +“You hypnotized em,” Mr. Konig grinned at him, speaking in a low voice. + +“Those boys are good,” was the answer. “Their hearts are good. They have +had a hard time, and they have worked hard, and they will work hard to +the end.” + +Mr. Konig had not time to reply. His voice was ringing out orders, the +sailors were springing to obey, and the PYRENEES was paying slowly off +from the wind until her bow should point in the direction of Makemo. + +The wind was very light, and after sundown almost ceased. It was +insufferably warm, and fore and aft men sought vainly to sleep. The deck +was too hot to lie upon, and poisonous vapors, oozing through the seams, +crept like evil spirits over the ship, stealing into the nostrils and +windpipes of the unwary and causing fits of sneezing and coughing. +The stars blinked lazily in the dim vault overhead; and the full moon, +rising in the east, touched with its light the myriads of wisps and +threads and spidery films of smoke that intertwined and writhed and +twisted along the deck, over the rails, and up the masts and shrouds. + +“Tell me,” Captain Davenport said, rubbing his smarting eyes, “what +happened with that BOUNTY crowd after they reached Pitcairn? The account +I read said they burnt the Bounty, and that they were not discovered +until many years later. But what happened in the meantime? I've always +been curious to know. They were men with their necks in the rope. There +were some native men, too. And then there were women. That made it look +like trouble right from the jump.” + +“There was trouble,” McCoy answered. “They were bad men. They quarreled +about the women right away. One of the mutineers, Williams, lost his +wife. All the women were Tahitian women. His wife fell from the cliffs +when hunting sea birds. Then he took the wife of one of the native men +away from him. All the native men were made very angry by this, and they +killed off nearly all the mutineers. Then the mutineers that escaped +killed off all the native men. The women helped. And the natives killed +each other. Everybody killed everybody. They were terrible men. + +“Timiti was killed by two other natives while they were combing his hair +in friendship. The white men had sent them to do it. Then the white +men killed them. The wife of Tullaloo killed him in a cave because she +wanted a white man for husband. They were very wicked. God had hidden +His face from them. At the end of two years all the native men were +murdered, and all the white men except four. They were Young, John +Adams, McCoy, who was my great-grandfather, and Quintal. He was a very +bad man, too. Once, just because his wife did not catch enough fish for +him, he bit off her ear.” + +“They were a bad lot!” Mr. Konig exclaimed. + +“Yes, they were very bad,” McCoy agreed and went on serenely cooing of +the blood and lust of his iniquitous ancestry. “My great-grandfather +escaped murder in order to die by his own hand. He made a still and +manufactured alcohol from the roots of the ti-plant. Quintal was his +chum, and they got drunk together all the time. At last McCoy got +delirium tremens, tied a rock to his neck, and jumped into the sea. + +“Quintal's wife, the one whose ear he bit off, also got killed by +falling from the cliffs. Then Quintal went to Young and demanded his +wife, and went to Adams and demanded his wife. Adams and Young were +afraid of Quintal. They knew he would kill them. So they killed him, +the two of them together, with a hatchet. Then Young died. And that was +about all the trouble they had.” + +“I should say so,” Captain Davenport snorted. “There was nobody left to +kill.” + +“You see, God had hidden His face,” McCoy said. + +By morning no more than a faint air was blowing from the eastward, and, +unable to make appreciable southing by it, Captain Davenport hauled up +full-and-by on the port track. He was afraid of that terrible westerly +current which had cheated him out of so many ports of refuge. All day +the calm continued, and all night, while the sailors, on a short ration +of dried banana, were grumbling. Also, they were growing weak and +complaining of stomach pains caused by the straight banana diet. All day +the current swept the PYRENEES to the westward, while there was no wind +to bear her south. In the middle of the first dogwatch, cocoanut trees +were sighted due south, their tufted heads rising above the water and +marking the low-lying atoll beneath. + +“That is Taenga Island,” McCoy said. “We need a breeze tonight, or else +we'll miss Makemo.” + +“What's become of the southeast trade?” the captain demanded. “Why don't +it blow? What's the matter?” + +“It is the evaporation from the big lagoons--there are so many of them,” + McCoy explained. “The evaporation upsets the whole system of trades. It +even causes the wind to back up and blow gales from the southwest. This +is the Dangerous Archipelago, Captain.” + +Captain Davenport faced the old man, opened his mouth, and was about to +curse, but paused and refrained. McCoy's presence was a rebuke to +the blasphemies that stirred in his brain and trembled in his larynx. +McCoy's influence had been growing during the many days they had been +together. Captain Davenport was an autocrat of the sea, fearing no man, +never bridling his tongue, and now he found himself unable to curse in +the presence of this old man with the feminine brown eyes and the +voice of a dove. When he realized this, Captain Davenport experienced a +distinct shock. This old man was merely the seed of McCoy, of McCoy +of the BOUNTY, the mutineer fleeing from the hemp that waited him in +England, the McCoy who was a power for evil in the early days of blood +and lust and violent death on Pitcairn Island. + +Captain Davenport was not religious, yet in that moment he felt a mad +impulse to cast himself at the other's feet--and to say he knew not +what. It was an emotion that so deeply stirred him, rather than +a coherent thought, and he was aware in some vague way of his own +unworthiness and smallness in the presence of this other man who +possessed the simplicity of a child and the gentleness of a woman. + +Of course he could not so humble himself before the eyes of his officers +and men. And yet the anger that had prompted the blasphemy still raged +in him. He suddenly smote the cabin with his clenched hand and cried: + +“Look here, old man, I won't be beaten. These Paumotus have cheated and +tricked me and made a fool of me. I refuse to be beaten. I am going +to drive this ship, and drive and drive and drive clear through the +Paumotus to China but what I find a bed for her. If every man deserts, +I'll stay by her. I'll show the Paumotus. They can't fool me. She's a +good girl, and I'll stick by her as long as there's a plank to stand on. +You hear me?” + +“And I'll stay with you, Captain,” McCoy said. + +During the night, light, baffling airs blew out of the south, and +the frantic captain, with his cargo of fire, watched and measured his +westward drift and went off by himself at times to curse softly so that +McCoy should not hear. + +Daylight showed more palms growing out of the water to the south. + +“That's the leeward point of Makemo,” McCoy said. “Katiu is only a few +miles to the west. We may make that.” + +But the current, sucking between the two islands, swept them to the +northwest, and at one in the afternoon they saw the palms of Katiu rise +above the sea and sink back into the sea again. + +A few minutes later, just as the captain had discovered that a new +current from the northeast had gripped the Pyrenees, the masthead +lookouts raised cocoanut palms in the northwest. + +“It is Raraka,” said McCoy. “We won't make it without wind. The current +is drawing us down to the southwest. But we must watch out. A few miles +farther on a current flows north and turns in a circle to the northwest. +This will sweep us away from Fakarava, and Fakarava is the place for the +Pyrenees to find her bed.” + +“They can sweep all they da--all they well please,” Captain Davenport +remarked with heat. “We'll find a bed for her somewhere just the same.” + +But the situation on the Pyrenees was reaching a culmination. The deck +was so hot that it seemed an increase of a few degrees would cause it to +burst into flames. In many places even the heavy-soled shoes of the +men were no protection, and they were compelled to step lively to avoid +scorching their feet. The smoke had increased and grown more acrid. +Every man on board was suffering from inflamed eyes, and they coughed +and strangled like a crew of tuberculosis patients. In the afternoon the +boats were swung out and equipped. The last several packages of dried +bananas were stored in them, as well as the instruments of the officers. +Captain Davenport even put the chronometer into the longboat, fearing +the blowing up of the deck at any moment. + +All night this apprehension weighed heavily on all, and in the first +morning light, with hollow eyes and ghastly faces, they stared at one +another as if in surprise that the Pyrenees still held together and that +they still were alive. + +Walking rapidly at times, and even occasionally breaking into an +undignified hop-skip-and-run, Captain Davenport inspected his ship's +deck. + +“It is a matter of hours now, if not of minutes,” he announced on his +return to the poop. + +The cry of land came down from the masthead. From the deck the land was +invisible, and McCoy went aloft, while the captain took advantage of the +opportunity to curse some of the bitterness out of his heart. But +the cursing was suddenly stopped by a dark line on the water which he +sighted to the northeast. It was not a squall, but a regular breeze--the +disrupted trade wind, eight points out of its direction but resuming +business once more. + +“Hold her up, Captain,” McCoy said as soon as he reached the poop. +“That's the easterly point of Fakarava, and we'll go in through the +passage full-tilt, the wind abeam, and every sail drawing.” + +At the end of an hour, the cocoanut trees and the low-lying land +were visible from the deck. The feeling that the end of the PYRENEES' +resistance was imminent weighed heavily on everybody. Captain Davenport +had the three boats lowered and dropped short astern, a man in each +to keep them apart. The Pyrenees closely skirted the shore, the +surf-whitened atoll a bare two cable lengths away. + +And a minute later the land parted, exposing a narrow passage and the +lagoon beyond, a great mirror, thirty miles in length and a third as +broad. + +“Now, Captain.” + +For the last time the yards of the Pyrenees swung around as she obeyed +the wheel and headed into the passage. The turns had scarcely been made, +and nothing had been coiled down, when the men and mates swept back to +the poop in panic terror. Nothing had happened, yet they averred that +something was going to happen. They could not tell why. They merely +knew that it was about to happen. McCoy started forward to take up +his position on the bow in order to con the vessel in; but the captain +gripped his arm and whirled him around. + +“Do it from here,” he said. “That deck's not safe. What's the matter?” + he demanded the next instant. “We're standing still.” + +McCoy smiled. + +“You are bucking a seven-knot current, Captain,” he said. “That is the +way the full ebb runs out of this passage.” + +At the end of another hour the Pyrenees had scarcely gained her length, +but the wind freshened and she began to forge ahead. + +“Better get into the boats, some of you,” Captain Davenport commanded. + +His voice was still ringing, and the men were just beginning to move in +obedience, when the amidship deck of the Pyrenees, in a mass of flame +and smoke, was flung upward into the sails and rigging, part of it +remaining there and the rest falling into the sea. The wind being abeam, +was what had saved the men crowded aft. They made a blind rush to gain +the boats, but McCoy's voice, carrying its convincing message of vast +calm and endless time, stopped them. + +“Take it easy,” he was saying. “Everything is all right. Pass that boy +down somebody, please.” + +The man at the wheel had forsaken it in a funk, and Captain Davenport +had leaped and caught the spokes in time to prevent the ship from yawing +in the current and going ashore. + +“Better take charge of the boats,” he said to Mr. Konig. “Tow one of +them short, right under the quarter.... When I go over, it'll be on the +jump.” + +Mr. Konig hesitated, then went over the rail and lowered himself into +the boat. + +“Keep her off half a point, Captain.” + +Captain Davenport gave a start. He had thought he had the ship to +himself. + +“Ay, ay; half a point it is,” he answered. + +Amidships the Pyrenees was an open flaming furnace, out of which +poured an immense volume of smoke which rose high above the masts and +completely hid the forward part of the ship. McCoy, in the shelter of +the mizzen-shrouds, continued his difficult task of conning the ship +through the intricate channel. The fire was working aft along the deck +from the seat of explosion, while the soaring tower of canvas on the +mainmast went up and vanished in a sheet of flame. Forward, though they +could not see them, they knew that the head-sails were still drawing. + +“If only she don't burn all her canvas off before she makes inside,” the +captain groaned. + +“She'll make it,” McCoy assured him with supreme confidence. “There is +plenty of time. She is bound to make it. And once inside, we'll put her +before it; that will keep the smoke away from us and hold back the fire +from working aft.” + +A tongue of flame sprang up the mizzen, reached hungrily for the lowest +tier of canvas, missed it, and vanished. From aloft a burning shred of +rope stuff fell square on the back of Captain Davenport's neck. He acted +with the celerity of one stung by a bee as he reached up and brushed the +offending fire from his skin. + +“How is she heading, Captain?” + +“Nor'west by west.” + +“Keep her west-nor-west.” + +Captain Davenport put the wheel up and steadied her. + +“West by north, Captain.” + +“West by north she is.” + +“And now west.” + +Slowly, point by point, as she entered the lagoon, the PYRENEES +described the circle that put her before the wind; and point by point, +with all the calm certitude of a thousand years of time to spare, McCoy +chanted the changing course. + +“Another point, Captain.” + +“A point it is.” + +Captain Davenport whirled several spokes over, suddenly reversing and +coming back one to check her. + +“Steady.” + +“Steady she is--right on it.” + +Despite the fact that the wind was now astern, the heat was so intense +that Captain Davenport was compelled to steal sidelong glances into the +binnacle, letting go the wheel now with one hand, now with the other, to +rub or shield his blistering cheeks. + +McCoy's beard was crinkling and shriveling and the smell of it, strong +in the other's nostrils, compelled him to look toward McCoy with sudden +solicitude. Captain Davenport was letting go the spokes alternately with +his hands in order to rub their blistering backs against his trousers. +Every sail on the mizzenmast vanished in a rush of flame, compelling the +two men to crouch and shield their faces. + +“Now,” said McCoy, stealing a glance ahead at the low shore, “four +points up, Captain, and let her drive.” + +Shreds and patches of burning rope and canvas were falling about them +and upon them. The tarry smoke from a smouldering piece of rope at the +captain's feet set him off into a violent coughing fit, during which he +still clung to the spokes. + +The Pyrenees struck, her bow lifted and she ground ahead gently to a +stop. A shower of burning fragments, dislodged by the shock, fell about +them. The ship moved ahead again and struck a second time. She crushed +the fragile coral under her keel, drove on, and struck a third time. + +“Hard over,” said McCoy. “Hard over?” he questioned gently, a minute +later. + +“She won't answer,” was the reply. + +“All right. She is swinging around.” McCoy peered over the side. “Soft, +white sand. Couldn't ask better. A beautiful bed.” + +As the Pyrenees swung around her stern away from the wind, a fearful +blast of smoke and flame poured aft. Captain Davenport deserted the +wheel in blistering agony. He reached the painter of the boat that lay +under the quarter, then looked for McCoy, who was standing aside to let +him go down. + +“You first,” the captain cried, gripping him by the shoulder and almost +throwing him over the rail. But the flame and smoke were too terrible, +and he followed hard after McCoy, both men wriggling on the rope and +sliding down into the boat together. A sailor in the bow, without +waiting for orders, slashed the painter through with his sheath knife. +The oars, poised in readiness, bit into the water, and the boat shot +away. + +“A beautiful bed, Captain,” McCoy murmured, looking back. + +“Ay, a beautiful bed, and all thanks to you,” was the answer. + +The three boats pulled away for the white beach of pounded coral, beyond +which, on the edge of a cocoanut grove, could be seen a half dozen grass +houses and a score or more of excited natives, gazing wide-eyed at the +conflagration that had come to land. + +The boats grounded and they stepped out on the white beach. + +“And now,” said McCoy, “I must see about getting back to Pitcairn.” + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of South Sea Tales, by Jack London + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOUTH SEA TALES *** + +***** This file should be named 1208-0.txt or 1208-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/0/1208/ + +Produced by Theresa Armao + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: South Sea Tales + +Author: Jack London + +Release Date: February, 1998 [EBook #1208] +Posting Date: November 8, 2009 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOUTH SEA TALES *** + + + + +Produced by Theresa Armao + + + + + +SOUTH SEA TALES + +By Jack London + + + +CONTENTS + +The House of Mapuhi + +The Whale Tooth + +Mauki + +"Yah! Yah! Yah!" + +The Heathen + +The Terrible Solomons + +The Inevitable White Man + +The Seed of McCoy + + + + +THE HOUSE OF MAPUHI + +Despite the heavy clumsiness of her lines, the Aorai handled easily in +the light breeze, and her captain ran her well in before he hove to just +outside the suck of the surf. The atoll of Hikueru lay low on the water, +a circle of pounded coral sand a hundred yards wide, twenty miles in +circumference, and from three to five feet above high-water mark. On the +bottom of the huge and glassy lagoon was much pearl shell, and from the +deck of the schooner, across the slender ring of the atoll, the divers +could be seen at work. But the lagoon had no entrance for even a trading +schooner. With a favoring breeze cutters could win in through the +tortuous and shallow channel, but the schooners lay off and on outside +and sent in their small boats. + +The Aorai swung out a boat smartly, into which sprang half a dozen +brown-skinned sailors clad only in scarlet loincloths. They took the +oars, while in the stern sheets, at the steering sweep, stood a young +man garbed in the tropic white that marks the European. The golden +strain of Polynesia betrayed itself in the sun-gilt of his fair skin +and cast up golden sheens and lights through the glimmering blue of his +eyes. Raoul he was, Alexandre Raoul, youngest son of Marie Raoul, +the wealthy quarter-caste, who owned and managed half a dozen trading +schooners similar to the Aorai. Across an eddy just outside the +entrance, and in and through and over a boiling tide-rip, the boat +fought its way to the mirrored calm of the lagoon. Young Raoul leaped +out upon the white sand and shook hands with a tall native. The man's +chest and shoulders were magnificent, but the stump of a right arm, +beyond the flesh of which the age-whitened bone projected several +inches, attested the encounter with a shark that had put an end to his +diving days and made him a fawner and an intriguer for small favors. + +"Have you heard, Alec?" were his first words. "Mapuhi has found a +pearl--such a pearl. Never was there one like it ever fished up in +Hikueru, nor in all the Paumotus, nor in all the world. Buy it from him. +He has it now. And remember that I told you first. He is a fool and you +can get it cheap. Have you any tobacco?" + +Straight up the beach to a shack under a pandanus tree Raoul headed. +He was his mother's supercargo, and his business was to comb all the +Paumotus for the wealth of copra, shell, and pearls that they yielded +up. + +He was a young supercargo, it was his second voyage in such capacity, +and he suffered much secret worry from his lack of experience in pricing +pearls. But when Mapuhi exposed the pearl to his sight he managed to +suppress the startle it gave him, and to maintain a careless, commercial +expression on his face. For the pearl had struck him a blow. It was +large as a pigeon egg, a perfect sphere, of a whiteness that reflected +opalescent lights from all colors about it. It was alive. Never had +he seen anything like it. When Mapuhi dropped it into his hand he was +surprised by the weight of it. That showed that it was a good pearl. He +examined it closely, through a pocket magnifying glass. It was without +flaw or blemish. The purity of it seemed almost to melt into the +atmosphere out of his hand. In the shade it was softly luminous, +gleaming like a tender moon. So translucently white was it, that when +he dropped it into a glass of water he had difficulty in finding it. So +straight and swiftly had it sunk to the bottom that he knew its weight +was excellent. + +"Well, what do you want for it?" he asked, with a fine assumption of +nonchalance. + +"I want--" Mapuhi began, and behind him, framing his own dark face, the +dark faces of two women and a girl nodded concurrence in what he wanted. +Their heads were bent forward, they were animated by a suppressed +eagerness, their eyes flashed avariciously. + +"I want a house," Mapuhi went on. "It must have a roof of galvanized +iron and an octagon-drop-clock. It must be six fathoms long with a porch +all around. A big room must be in the centre, with a round table in the +middle of it and the octagon-drop-clock on the wall. There must be four +bedrooms, two on each side of the big room, and in each bedroom must be +an iron bed, two chairs, and a washstand. And back of the house must be +a kitchen, a good kitchen, with pots and pans and a stove. And you must +build the house on my island, which is Fakarava." + +"Is that all?" Raoul asked incredulously. + +"There must be a sewing machine," spoke up Tefara, Mapuhi's wife. + +"Not forgetting the octagon-drop-clock," added Nauri, Mapuhi's mother. + +"Yes, that is all," said Mapuhi. + +Young Raoul laughed. He laughed long and heartily. But while he laughed +he secretly performed problems in mental arithmetic. He had never built +a house in his life, and his notions concerning house building were +hazy. While he laughed, he calculated the cost of the voyage to Tahiti +for materials, of the materials themselves, of the voyage back again +to Fakarava, and the cost of landing the materials and of building the +house. It would come to four thousand French dollars, allowing a margin +for safety--four thousand French dollars were equivalent to twenty +thousand francs. It was impossible. How was he to know the value of such +a pearl? Twenty thousand francs was a lot of money--and of his mother's +money at that. + +"Mapuhi," he said, "you are a big fool. Set a money price." + +But Mapuhi shook his head, and the three heads behind him shook with +his. + +"I want the house," he said. "It must be six fathoms long with a porch +all around--" + +"Yes, yes," Raoul interrupted. "I know all about your house, but it +won't do. I'll give you a thousand Chili dollars." + +The four heads chorused a silent negative. + +"And a hundred Chili dollars in trade." + +"I want the house," Mapuhi began. + +"What good will the house do you?" Raoul demanded. "The first hurricane +that comes along will wash it away. You ought to know." + +"Captain Raffy says it looks like a hurricane right now." + +"Not on Fakarava," said Mapuhi. "The land is much higher there. On this +island, yes. Any hurricane can sweep Hikueru. I will have the house on +Fakarava. It must be six fathoms long with a porch all around--" + +And Raoul listened again to the tale of the house. Several hours he +spent in the endeavor to hammer the house obsession out of Mapuhi's +mind; but Mapuhi's mother and wife, and Ngakura, Mapuhi's daughter, +bolstered him in his resolve for the house. Through the open doorway, +while he listened for the twentieth time to the detailed description of +the house that was wanted, Raoul saw his schooner's second boat draw up +on the beach. The sailors rested on the oars, advertising haste to be +gone. The first mate of the Aorai sprang ashore, exchanged a word with +the one-armed native, then hurried toward Raoul. The day grew suddenly +dark, as a squall obscured the face of the sun. Across the lagoon Raoul +could see approaching the ominous line of the puff of wind. + +"Captain Raffy says you've got to get to hell outa here," was the mate's +greeting. "If there's any shell, we've got to run the risk of +picking it up later on--so he says. The barometer's dropped to +twenty-nine-seventy." + +The gust of wind struck the pandanus tree overhead and tore through the +palms beyond, flinging half a dozen ripe cocoanuts with heavy thuds to +the ground. Then came the rain out of the distance, advancing with the +roar of a gale of wind and causing the water of the lagoon to smoke in +driven windrows. The sharp rattle of the first drops was on the leaves +when Raoul sprang to his feet. + +"A thousand Chili dollars, cash down, Mapuhi," he said. "And two hundred +Chili dollars in trade." + +"I want a house--" the other began. + +"Mapuhi!" Raoul yelled, in order to make himself heard. "You are a +fool!" + +He flung out of the house, and, side by side with the mate, fought his +way down the beach toward the boat. They could not see the boat. The +tropic rain sheeted about them so that they could see only the beach +under their feet and the spiteful little waves from the lagoon that +snapped and bit at the sand. A figure appeared through the deluge. It +was Huru-Huru, the man with the one arm. + +"Did you get the pearl?" he yelled in Raoul's ear. + +"Mapuhi is a fool!" was the answering yell, and the next moment they +were lost to each other in the descending water. + +Half an hour later, Huru-Huru, watching from the seaward side of the +atoll, saw the two boats hoisted in and the Aorai pointing her nose +out to sea. And near her, just come in from the sea on the wings of the +squall, he saw another schooner hove to and dropping a boat into the +water. He knew her. It was the OROHENA, owned by Toriki, the half-caste +trader, who served as his own supercargo and who doubtlessly was even +then in the stern sheets of the boat. Huru-Huru chuckled. He knew that +Mapuhi owed Toriki for trade goods advanced the year before. + +The squall had passed. The hot sun was blazing down, and the lagoon was +once more a mirror. But the air was sticky like mucilage, and the weight +of it seemed to burden the lungs and make breathing difficult. + +"Have you heard the news, Toriki?" Huru-Huru asked. "Mapuhi has found +a pearl. Never was there a pearl like it ever fished up in Hikueru, nor +anywhere in the Paumotus, nor anywhere in all the world. Mapuhi is a +fool. Besides, he owes you money. Remember that I told you first. Have +you any tobacco?" + +And to the grass shack of Mapuhi went Toriki. He was a masterful man, +withal a fairly stupid one. Carelessly he glanced at the wonderful +pearl--glanced for a moment only; and carelessly he dropped it into his +pocket. + +"You are lucky," he said. "It is a nice pearl. I will give you credit on +the books." + +"I want a house," Mapuhi began, in consternation. "It must be six +fathoms--" + +"Six fathoms your grandmother!" was the trader's retort. "You want to +pay up your debts, that's what you want. You owed me twelve hundred +dollars Chili. Very well; you owe them no longer. The amount is squared. +Besides, I will give you credit for two hundred Chili. If, when I get +to Tahiti, the pearl sells well, I will give you credit for another +hundred--that will make three hundred. But mind, only if the pearl sells +well. I may even lose money on it." + +Mapuhi folded his arms in sorrow and sat with bowed head. He had been +robbed of his pearl. In place of the house, he had paid a debt. There +was nothing to show for the pearl. + +"You are a fool," said Tefara. + +"You are a fool," said Nauri, his mother. "Why did you let the pearl +into his hand?" + +"What was I to do?" Mapuhi protested. "I owed him the money. He knew I +had the pearl. You heard him yourself ask to see it. I had not told him. +He knew. Somebody else told him. And I owed him the money." + +"Mapuhi is a fool," mimicked Ngakura. + +She was twelve years old and did not know any better. Mapuhi relieved +his feelings by sending her reeling from a box on the ear; while Tefara +and Nauri burst into tears and continued to upbraid him after the manner +of women. + +Huru-Huru, watching on the beach, saw a third schooner that he knew +heave to outside the entrance and drop a boat. It was the Hira, well +named, for she was owned by Levy, the German Jew, the greatest pearl +buyer of them all, and, as was well known, Hira was the Tahitian god of +fishermen and thieves. + +"Have you heard the news?" Huru-Huru asked, as Levy, a fat man with +massive asymmetrical features, stepped out upon the beach. "Mapuhi has +found a pearl. There was never a pearl like it in Hikueru, in all the +Paumotus, in all the world. Mapuhi is a fool. He has sold it to Toriki +for fourteen hundred Chili--I listened outside and heard. Toriki is +likewise a fool. You can buy it from him cheap. Remember that I told you +first. Have you any tobacco?" + +"Where is Toriki?" + +"In the house of Captain Lynch, drinking absinthe. He has been there an +hour." + +And while Levy and Toriki drank absinthe and chaffered over the pearl, +Huru-Huru listened and heard the stupendous price of twenty-five +thousand francs agreed upon. + +It was at this time that both the OROHENA and the Hira, running in close +to the shore, began firing guns and signalling frantically. The three +men stepped outside in time to see the two schooners go hastily about +and head off shore, dropping mainsails and flying jibs on the run in +the teeth of the squall that heeled them far over on the whitened water. +Then the rain blotted them out. + +"They'll be back after it's over," said Toriki. "We'd better be getting +out of here." + +"I reckon the glass has fallen some more," said Captain Lynch. + +He was a white-bearded sea-captain, too old for service, who had learned +that the only way to live on comfortable terms with his asthma was on +Hikueru. He went inside to look at the barometer. + +"Great God!" they heard him exclaim, and rushed in to join him at +staring at a dial, which marked twenty-nine-twenty. + +Again they came out, this time anxiously to consult sea and sky. +The squall had cleared away, but the sky remained overcast. The two +schooners, under all sail and joined by a third, could be seen making +back. A veer in the wind induced them to slack off sheets, and five +minutes afterward a sudden veer from the opposite quarter caught all +three schooners aback, and those on shore could see the boom-tackles +being slacked away or cast off on the jump. The sound of the surf was +loud, hollow, and menacing, and a heavy swell was setting in. A terrible +sheet of lightning burst before their eyes, illuminating the dark day, +and the thunder rolled wildly about them. + +Toriki and Levy broke into a run for their boats, the latter ambling +along like a panic-stricken hippopotamus. As their two boats swept out +the entrance, they passed the boat of the Aorai coming in. In the stern +sheets, encouraging the rowers, was Raoul. Unable to shake the vision of +the pearl from his mind, he was returning to accept Mapuhi's price of a +house. + +He landed on the beach in the midst of a driving thunder squall that was +so dense that he collided with Huru-Huru before he saw him. + +"Too late," yelled Huru-Huru. "Mapuhi sold it to Toriki for fourteen +hundred Chili, and Toriki sold it to Levy for twenty-five thousand +francs. And Levy will sell it in France for a hundred thousand francs. +Have you any tobacco?" + +Raoul felt relieved. His troubles about the pearl were over. He need not +worry any more, even if he had not got the pearl. But he did not believe +Huru-Huru. Mapuhi might well have sold it for fourteen hundred Chili, +but that Levy, who knew pearls, should have paid twenty-five thousand +francs was too wide a stretch. Raoul decided to interview Captain Lynch +on the subject, but when he arrived at that ancient mariner's house, he +found him looking wide-eyed at the barometer. + +"What do you read it?" Captain Lynch asked anxiously, rubbing his +spectacles and staring again at the instrument. + +"Twenty-nine-ten," said Raoul. "I have never seen it so low before." + +"I should say not!" snorted the captain. "Fifty years boy and man on all +the seas, and I've never seen it go down to that. Listen!" + +They stood for a moment, while the surf rumbled and shook the house. +Then they went outside. The squall had passed. They could see the +Aorai lying becalmed a mile away and pitching and tossing madly in +the tremendous seas that rolled in stately procession down out of the +northeast and flung themselves furiously upon the coral shore. One of +the sailors from the boat pointed at the mouth of the passage and shook +his head. Raoul looked and saw a white anarchy of foam and surge. + +"I guess I'll stay with you tonight, Captain," he said; then turned to +the sailor and told him to haul the boat out and to find shelter for +himself and fellows. + +"Twenty-nine flat," Captain Lynch reported, coming out from another look +at the barometer, a chair in his hand. + +He sat down and stared at the spectacle of the sea. The sun came out, +increasing the sultriness of the day, while the dead calm still held. +The seas continued to increase in magnitude. + +"What makes that sea is what gets me," Raoul muttered petulantly. + +"There is no wind, yet look at it, look at that fellow there!" + +Miles in length, carrying tens of thousands of tons in weight, its +impact shook the frail atoll like an earthquake. Captain Lynch was +startled. + +"Gracious!" he bellowed, half rising from his chair, then sinking back. + +"But there is no wind," Raoul persisted. "I could understand it if there +was wind along with it." + +"You'll get the wind soon enough without worryin' for it," was the grim +reply. + +The two men sat on in silence. The sweat stood out on their skin in +myriads of tiny drops that ran together, forming blotches of moisture, +which, in turn, coalesced into rivulets that dripped to the ground. They +panted for breath, the old man's efforts being especially painful. A +sea swept up the beach, licking around the trunks of the cocoanuts and +subsiding almost at their feet. + +"Way past high water mark," Captain Lynch remarked; "and I've been here +eleven years." He looked at his watch. "It is three o'clock." + +A man and woman, at their heels a motley following of brats and curs, +trailed disconsolately by. They came to a halt beyond the house, and, +after much irresolution, sat down in the sand. A few minutes later +another family trailed in from the opposite direction, the men and women +carrying a heterogeneous assortment of possessions. And soon several +hundred persons of all ages and sexes were congregated about the +captain's dwelling. He called to one new arrival, a woman with a nursing +babe in her arms, and in answer received the information that her house +had just been swept into the lagoon. + +This was the highest spot of land in miles, and already, in many places +on either hand, the great seas were making a clean breach of the slender +ring of the atoll and surging into the lagoon. Twenty miles around +stretched the ring of the atoll, and in no place was it more than fifty +fathoms wide. It was the height of the diving season, and from all the +islands around, even as far as Tahiti, the natives had gathered. + +"There are twelve hundred men, women, and children here," said Captain +Lynch. "I wonder how many will be here tomorrow morning." + +"But why don't it blow?--that's what I want to know," Raoul demanded. + +"Don't worry, young man, don't worry; you'll get your troubles fast +enough." + +Even as Captain Lynch spoke, a great watery mass smote the atoll. + +The sea water churned about them three inches deep under the chairs. A +low wail of fear went up from the many women. The children, with clasped +hands, stared at the immense rollers and cried piteously. Chickens and +cats, wading perturbedly in the water, as by common consent, with flight +and scramble took refuge on the roof of the captain's house. A Paumotan, +with a litter of new-born puppies in a basket, climbed into a cocoanut +tree and twenty feet above the ground made the basket fast. The mother +floundered about in the water beneath, whining and yelping. + +And still the sun shone brightly and the dead calm continued. They sat +and watched the seas and the insane pitching of the Aorai. Captain Lynch +gazed at the huge mountains of water sweeping in until he could gaze +no more. He covered his face with his hands to shut out the sight; then +went into the house. + +"Twenty-eight-sixty," he said quietly when he returned. + +In his arm was a coil of small rope. He cut it into two-fathom lengths, +giving one to Raoul and, retaining one for himself, distributed the +remainder among the women with the advice to pick out a tree and climb. + +A light air began to blow out of the northeast, and the fan of it on +his cheek seemed to cheer Raoul up. He could see the Aorai trimming her +sheets and heading off shore, and he regretted that he was not on her. +She would get away at any rate, but as for the atoll--A sea breached +across, almost sweeping him off his feet, and he selected a tree. Then +he remembered the barometer and ran back to the house. He encountered +Captain Lynch on the same errand and together they went in. + +"Twenty-eight-twenty," said the old mariner. "It's going to be fair hell +around here--what was that?" + +The air seemed filled with the rush of something. The house quivered and +vibrated, and they heard the thrumming of a mighty note of sound. The +windows rattled. Two panes crashed; a draught of wind tore in, striking +them and making them stagger. The door opposite banged shut, shattering +the latch. The white door knob crumbled in fragments to the floor. +The room's walls bulged like a gas balloon in the process of sudden +inflation. Then came a new sound like the rattle of musketry, as the +spray from a sea struck the wall of the house. Captain Lynch looked +at his watch. It was four o'clock. He put on a coat of pilot cloth, +unhooked the barometer, and stowed it away in a capacious pocket. +Again a sea struck the house, with a heavy thud, and the light building +tilted, twisted, quarter around on its foundation, and sank down, its +floor at an angle of ten degrees. + +Raoul went out first. The wind caught him and whirled him away. He noted +that it had hauled around to the east. With a great effort he threw +himself on the sand, crouching and holding his own. Captain Lynch, +driven like a wisp of straw, sprawled over him. Two of the Aorai's +sailors, leaving a cocoanut tree to which they had been clinging, came +to their aid, leaning against the wind at impossible angles and fighting +and clawing every inch of the way. + +The old man's joints were stiff and he could not climb, so the sailors, +by means of short ends of rope tied together, hoisted him up the trunk, +a few feet at a time, till they could make him fast, at the top of the +tree, fifty feet from the ground. Raoul passed his length of rope +around the base of an adjacent tree and stood looking on. The wind was +frightful. He had never dreamed it could blow so hard. A sea breached +across the atoll, wetting him to the knees ere it subsided into the +lagoon. The sun had disappeared, and a lead-colored twilight settled +down. A few drops of rain, driving horizontally, struck him. The impact +was like that of leaden pellets. A splash of salt spray struck his face. +It was like the slap of a man's hand. His cheeks stung, and involuntary +tears of pain were in his smarting eyes. Several hundred natives had +taken to the trees, and he could have laughed at the bunches of human +fruit clustering in the tops. Then, being Tahitian-born, he doubled his +body at the waist, clasped the trunk of his tree with his hands, pressed +the soles of his feet against the near surface of the trunk, and began +to walk up the tree. At the top he found two women, two children, and a +man. One little girl clasped a housecat in her arms. + +From his eyrie he waved his hand to Captain Lynch, and that doughty +patriarch waved back. Raoul was appalled at the sky. It had approached +much nearer--in fact, it seemed just over his head; and it had turned +from lead to black. Many people were still on the ground grouped about +the bases of the trees and holding on. Several such clusters were +praying, and in one the Mormon missionary was exhorting. A weird sound, +rhythmical, faint as the faintest chirp of a far cricket, enduring but +for a moment, but in the moment suggesting to him vaguely the thought +of heaven and celestial music, came to his ear. He glanced about him and +saw, at the base of another tree, a large cluster of people holding on +by ropes and by one another. He could see their faces working and their +lips moving in unison. No sound came to him, but he knew that they were +singing hymns. + +Still the wind continued to blow harder. By no conscious process could +he measure it, for it had long since passed beyond all his experience of +wind; but he knew somehow, nevertheless, that it was blowing harder. Not +far away a tree was uprooted, flinging its load of human beings to +the ground. A sea washed across the strip of sand, and they were gone. +Things were happening quickly. He saw a brown shoulder and a black head +silhouetted against the churning white of the lagoon. The next +instant that, too, had vanished. Other trees were going, falling and +criss-crossing like matches. He was amazed at the power of the wind. His +own tree was swaying perilously, one woman was wailing and clutching the +little girl, who in turn still hung on to the cat. + +The man, holding the other child, touched Raoul's arm and pointed. He +looked and saw the Mormon church careering drunkenly a hundred feet +away. It had been torn from its foundations, and wind and sea were +heaving and shoving it toward the lagoon. A frightful wall of water +caught it, tilted it, and flung it against half a dozen cocoanut trees. +The bunches of human fruit fell like ripe cocoanuts. The subsiding wave +showed them on the ground, some lying motionless, others squirming and +writhing. They reminded him strangely of ants. He was not shocked. +He had risen above horror. Quite as a matter of course he noted the +succeeding wave sweep the sand clean of the human wreckage. A third +wave, more colossal than any he had yet seen, hurled the church into +the lagoon, where it floated off into the obscurity to leeward, +half-submerged, reminding him for all the world of a Noah's ark. + +He looked for Captain Lynch's house, and was surprised to find it gone. +Things certainly were happening quickly. He noticed that many of the +people in the trees that still held had descended to the ground. The +wind had yet again increased. His own tree showed that. It no longer +swayed or bent over and back. Instead, it remained practically +stationary, curved in a rigid angle from the wind and merely vibrating. +But the vibration was sickening. It was like that of a tuning-fork or +the tongue of a jew's-harp. It was the rapidity of the vibration that +made it so bad. Even though its roots held, it could not stand the +strain for long. Something would have to break. + +Ah, there was one that had gone. He had not seen it go, but there it +stood, the remnant, broken off half-way up the trunk. One did not know +what happened unless he saw it. The mere crashing of trees and wails +of human despair occupied no place in that mighty volume of sound. He +chanced to be looking in Captain Lynch's direction when it happened. He +saw the trunk of the tree, half-way up, splinter and part without +noise. The head of the tree, with three sailors of the Aorai and the old +captain sailed off over the lagoon. It did not fall to the ground, but +drove through the air like a piece of chaff. For a hundred yards he +followed its flight, when it struck the water. He strained his eyes, and +was sure that he saw Captain Lynch wave farewell. + +Raoul did not wait for anything more. He touched the native and made +signs to descend to the ground. The man was willing, but his women were +paralyzed from terror, and he elected to remain with them. Raoul passed +his rope around the tree and slid down. A rush of salt water went over +his head. He held his breath and clung desperately to the rope. The +water subsided, and in the shelter of the trunk he breathed once more. +He fastened the rope more securely, and then was put under by another +sea. One of the women slid down and joined him, the native remaining by +the other woman, the two children, and the cat. + +The supercargo had noticed how the groups clinging at the bases of the +other trees continually diminished. Now he saw the process work out +alongside him. It required all his strength to hold on, and the woman +who had joined him was growing weaker. Each time he emerged from a sea +he was surprised to find himself still there, and next, surprised to +find the woman still there. At last he emerged to find himself alone. +He looked up. The top of the tree had gone as well. At half its original +height, a splintered end vibrated. He was safe. The roots still held, +while the tree had been shorn of its windage. He began to climb up. He +was so weak that he went slowly, and sea after sea caught him before he +was above them. Then he tied himself to the trunk and stiffened his soul +to face the night and he knew not what. + +He felt very lonely in the darkness. At times it seemed to him that it +was the end of the world and that he was the last one left alive. Still +the wind increased. Hour after hour it increased. By what he calculated +was eleven o'clock, the wind had become unbelievable. It was a horrible, +monstrous thing, a screaming fury, a wall that smote and passed on but +that continued to smite and pass on--a wall without end. It seemed to +him that he had become light and ethereal; that it was he that was in +motion; that he was being driven with inconceivable velocity through +unending solidness. The wind was no longer air in motion. It had become +substantial as water or quicksilver. He had a feeling that he could +reach into it and tear it out in chunks as one might do with the meat in +the carcass of a steer; that he could seize hold of the wind and hang on +to it as a man might hang on to the face of a cliff. + +The wind strangled him. He could not face it and breathe, for it rushed +in through his mouth and nostrils, distending his lungs like bladders. +At such moments it seemed to him that his body was being packed and +swollen with solid earth. Only by pressing his lips to the trunk of the +tree could he breathe. Also, the ceaseless impact of the wind exhausted +him. Body and brain became wearied. He no longer observed, no +longer thought, and was but semiconscious. One idea constituted +his consciousness: SO THIS WAS A HURRICANE. That one idea persisted +irregularly. It was like a feeble flame that flickered occasionally. +From a state of stupor he would return to it--SO THIS WAS A HURRICANE. +Then he would go off into another stupor. + +The height of the hurricane endured from eleven at night till three in +the morning, and it was at eleven that the tree in which clung Mapuhi +and his women snapped off. Mapuhi rose to the surface of the lagoon, +still clutching his daughter Ngakura. Only a South Sea islander could +have lived in such a driving smother. The pandanus tree, to which he +attached himself, turned over and over in the froth and churn; and it +was only by holding on at times and waiting, and at other times shifting +his grips rapidly, that he was able to get his head and Ngakura's to the +surface at intervals sufficiently near together to keep the breath in +them. But the air was mostly water, what with flying spray and sheeted +rain that poured along at right angles to the perpendicular. + +It was ten miles across the lagoon to the farther ring of sand. Here, +tossing tree trunks, timbers, wrecks of cutters, and wreckage of houses, +killed nine out of ten of the miserable beings who survived the passage +of the lagoon. Half-drowned, exhausted, they were hurled into this mad +mortar of the elements and battered into formless flesh. But Mapuhi was +fortunate. His chance was the one in ten; it fell to him by the freakage +of fate. He emerged upon the sand, bleeding from a score of wounds. + +Ngakura's left arm was broken; the fingers of her right hand were +crushed; and cheek and forehead were laid open to the bone. He clutched +a tree that yet stood, and clung on, holding the girl and sobbing for +air, while the waters of the lagoon washed by knee-high and at times +waist-high. + +At three in the morning the backbone of the hurricane broke. By five no +more than a stiff breeze was blowing. And by six it was dead calm and +the sun was shining. The sea had gone down. On the yet restless edge of +the lagoon, Mapuhi saw the broken bodies of those that had failed in the +landing. Undoubtedly Tefara and Nauri were among them. He went along the +beach examining them, and came upon his wife, lying half in and half out +of the water. He sat down and wept, making harsh animal noises after the +manner of primitive grief. Then she stirred uneasily, and groaned. He +looked more closely. Not only was she alive, but she was uninjured. She +was merely sleeping. Hers also had been the one chance in ten. + +Of the twelve hundred alive the night before but three hundred remained. +The Mormon missionary and a gendarme made the census. The lagoon was +cluttered with corpses. Not a house nor a hut was standing. In the whole +atoll not two stones remained one upon another. One in fifty of the +cocoanut palms still stood, and they were wrecks, while on not one of +them remained a single nut. + +There was no fresh water. The shallow wells that caught the surface +seepage of the rain were filled with salt. Out of the lagoon a few +soaked bags of flour were recovered. The survivors cut the hearts out of +the fallen cocoanut trees and ate them. Here and there they crawled +into tiny hutches, made by hollowing out the sand and covering over with +fragments of metal roofing. The missionary made a crude still, but he +could not distill water for three hundred persons. By the end of the +second day, Raoul, taking a bath in the lagoon, discovered that his +thirst was somewhat relieved. He cried out the news, and thereupon three +hundred men, women, and children could have been seen, standing up to +their necks in the lagoon and trying to drink water in through their +skins. Their dead floated about them, or were stepped upon where they +still lay upon the bottom. On the third day the people buried their dead +and sat down to wait for the rescue steamers. + +In the meantime, Nauri, torn from her family by the hurricane, had been +swept away on an adventure of her own. Clinging to a rough plank that +wounded and bruised her and that filled her body with splinters, she +was thrown clear over the atoll and carried away to sea. Here, under the +amazing buffets of mountains of water, she lost her plank. She was an +old woman nearly sixty; but she was Paumotan-born, and she had never +been out of sight of the sea in her life. Swimming in the darkness, +strangling, suffocating, fighting for air, she was struck a heavy blow +on the shoulder by a cocoanut. On the instant her plan was formed, +and she seized the nut. In the next hour she captured seven more. Tied +together, they formed a life-buoy that preserved her life while at the +same time it threatened to pound her to a jelly. She was a fat woman, +and she bruised easily; but she had had experience of hurricanes, and +while she prayed to her shark god for protection from sharks, she waited +for the wind to break. But at three o'clock she was in such a stupor +that she did not know. Nor did she know at six o'clock when the dead +calm settled down. She was shocked into consciousness when she was +thrown upon the sand. She dug in with raw and bleeding hands and feet +and clawed against the backwash until she was beyond the reach of the +waves. + +She knew where she was. This land could be no other than the tiny islet +of Takokota. It had no lagoon. No one lived upon it. + +Hikueru was fifteen miles away. She could not see Hikueru, but she +knew that it lay to the south. The days went by, and she lived on the +cocoanuts that had kept her afloat. They supplied her with drinking +water and with food. But she did not drink all she wanted, nor eat all +she wanted. Rescue was problematical. She saw the smoke of the rescue +steamers on the horizon, but what steamer could be expected to come to +lonely, uninhabited Takokota? + +From the first she was tormented by corpses. The sea persisted in +flinging them upon her bit of sand, and she persisted, until her +strength failed, in thrusting them back into the sea where the sharks +tore at them and devoured them. When her strength failed, the bodies +festooned her beach with ghastly horror, and she withdrew from them as +far as she could, which was not far. + +By the tenth day her last cocoanut was gone, and she was shrivelling +from thirst. She dragged herself along the sand, looking for cocoanuts. +It was strange that so many bodies floated up, and no nuts. Surely, +there were more cocoanuts afloat than dead men! She gave up at last, and +lay exhausted. The end had come. Nothing remained but to wait for death. + +Coming out of a stupor, she became slowly aware that she was gazing at a +patch of sandy-red hair on the head of a corpse. The sea flung the body +toward her, then drew it back. It turned over, and she saw that it had +no face. Yet there was something familiar about that patch of +sandy-red hair. An hour passed. She did not exert herself to make the +identification. She was waiting to die, and it mattered little to her +what man that thing of horror once might have been. + +But at the end of the hour she sat up slowly and stared at the corpse. +An unusually large wave had thrown it beyond the reach of the lesser +waves. Yes, she was right; that patch of red hair could belong to but +one man in the Paumotus. It was Levy, the German Jew, the man who had +bought the pearl and carried it away on the Hira. Well, one thing was +evident: The Hira had been lost. The pearl buyer's god of fishermen and +thieves had gone back on him. + +She crawled down to the dead man. His shirt had been torn away, and she +could see the leather money belt about his waist. She held her breath +and tugged at the buckles. They gave easier than she had expected, and +she crawled hurriedly away across the sand, dragging the belt after her. +Pocket after pocket she unbuckled in the belt and found empty. Where +could he have put it? In the last pocket of all she found it, the first +and only pearl he had bought on the voyage. She crawled a few feet +farther, to escape the pestilence of the belt, and examined the pearl. +It was the one Mapuhi had found and been robbed of by Toriki. She +weighed it in her hand and rolled it back and forth caressingly. But in +it she saw no intrinsic beauty. What she did see was the house Mapuhi +and Tefara and she had builded so carefully in their minds. Each time +she looked at the pearl she saw the house in all its details, including +the octagon-drop-clock on the wall. That was something to live for. + +She tore a strip from her ahu and tied the pearl securely about her +neck. Then she went on along the beach, panting and groaning, but +resolutely seeking for cocoanuts. Quickly she found one, and, as she +glanced around, a second. She broke one, drinking its water, which was +mildewy, and eating the last particle of the meat. A little later she +found a shattered dugout. Its outrigger was gone, but she was hopeful, +and, before the day was out, she found the outrigger. Every find was an +augury. The pearl was a talisman. Late in the afternoon she saw a wooden +box floating low in the water. When she dragged it out on the beach its +contents rattled, and inside she found ten tins of salmon. She opened +one by hammering it on the canoe. When a leak was started, she drained +the tin. After that she spent several hours in extracting the salmon, +hammering and squeezing it out a morsel at a time. + +Eight days longer she waited for rescue. In the meantime she fastened +the outrigger back on the canoe, using for lashings all the cocoanut +fibre she could find, and also what remained of her ahu. The canoe was +badly cracked, and she could not make it water-tight; but a calabash +made from a cocoanut she stored on board for a bailer. She was hard put +for a paddle. With a piece of tin she sawed off all her hair close to +the scalp. Out of the hair she braided a cord; and by means of the cord +she lashed a three-foot piece of broom handle to a board from the salmon +case. + +She gnawed wedges with her teeth and with them wedged the lashing. + +On the eighteenth day, at midnight, she launched the canoe through the +surf and started back for Hikueru. She was an old woman. Hardship had +stripped her fat from her till scarcely more than bones and skin and a +few stringy muscles remained. The canoe was large and should have been +paddled by three strong men. + +But she did it alone, with a make-shift paddle. Also, the canoe leaked +badly, and one-third of her time was devoted to bailing. By clear +daylight she looked vainly for Hikueru. Astern, Takokota had sunk +beneath the sea rim. The sun blazed down on her nakedness, compelling +her body to surrender its moisture. Two tins of salmon were left, and in +the course of the day she battered holes in them and drained the liquid. +She had no time to waste in extracting the meat. A current was setting +to the westward, she made westing whether she made southing or not. + +In the early afternoon, standing upright in the canoe, she sighted +Hikueru. Its wealth of cocoanut palms was gone. Only here and there, at +wide intervals, could she see the ragged remnants of trees. The sight +cheered her. She was nearer than she had thought. The current was +setting her to the westward. She bore up against it and paddled on. The +wedges in the paddle lashing worked loose, and she lost much time, at +frequent intervals, in driving them tight. Then there was the bailing. +One hour in three she had to cease paddling in order to bail. And all +the time she drifted to the westward. + +By sunset Hikueru bore southeast from her, three miles away. There was +a full moon, and by eight o'clock the land was due east and two miles +away. She struggled on for another hour, but the land was as far away as +ever. She was in the main grip of the current; the canoe was too large; +the paddle was too inadequate; and too much of her time and strength +was wasted in bailing. Besides, she was very weak and growing weaker. +Despite her efforts, the canoe was drifting off to the westward. + +She breathed a prayer to her shark god, slipped over the side, and began +to swim. She was actually refreshed by the water, and quickly left the +canoe astern. At the end of an hour the land was perceptibly nearer. +Then came her fright. Right before her eyes, not twenty feet away, a +large fin cut the water. She swam steadily toward it, and slowly it +glided away, curving off toward the right and circling around her. She +kept her eyes on the fin and swam on. When the fin disappeared, she +lay face downward in the water and watched. When the fin reappeared she +resumed her swimming. The monster was lazy--she could see that. Without +doubt he had been well fed since the hurricane. Had he been very hungry, +she knew he would not have hesitated from making a dash for her. He was +fifteen feet long, and one bite, she knew, could cut her in half. + +But she did not have any time to waste on him. Whether she swam or not, +the current drew away from the land just the same. A half hour went +by, and the shark began to grow bolder. Seeing no harm in her he drew +closer, in narrowing circles, cocking his eyes at her impudently as +he slid past. Sooner or later, she knew well enough, he would get up +sufficient courage to dash at her. She resolved to play first. It was a +desperate act she meditated. She was an old woman, alone in the sea and +weak from starvation and hardship; and yet she, in the face of this sea +tiger, must anticipate his dash by herself dashing at him. She swam on, +waiting her chance. At last he passed languidly by, barely eight feet +away. She rushed at him suddenly, feigning that she was attacking him. +He gave a wild flirt of his tail as he fled away, and his sandpaper +hide, striking her, took off her skin from elbow to shoulder. He swam +rapidly, in a widening circle, and at last disappeared. + +In the hole in the sand, covered over by fragments of metal roofing, +Mapuhi and Tefara lay disputing. + +"If you had done as I said," charged Tefara, for the thousandth time, +"and hidden the pearl and told no one, you would have it now." + +"But Huru-Huru was with me when I opened the shell--have I not told you +so times and times and times without end?" + +"And now we shall have no house. Raoul told me today that if you had not +sold the pearl to Toriki--" + +"I did not sell it. Toriki robbed me." + +"--that if you had not sold the pearl, he would give you five thousand +French dollars, which is ten thousand Chili." + +"He has been talking to his mother," Mapuhi explained. "She has an eye +for a pearl." + +"And now the pearl is lost," Tefara complained. + +"It paid my debt with Toriki. That is twelve hundred I have made, +anyway." + +"Toriki is dead," she cried. "They have heard no word of his schooner. +She was lost along with the Aorai and the Hira. Will Toriki pay you the +three hundred credit he promised? No, because Toriki is dead. And had +you found no pearl, would you today owe Toriki the twelve hundred? No, +because Toriki is dead, and you cannot pay dead men." + +"But Levy did not pay Toriki," Mapuhi said. "He gave him a piece of +paper that was good for the money in Papeete; and now Levy is dead and +cannot pay; and Toriki is dead and the paper lost with him, and the +pearl is lost with Levy. You are right, Tefara. I have lost the pearl, +and got nothing for it. Now let us sleep." + +He held up his hand suddenly and listened. From without came a noise, +as of one who breathed heavily and with pain. A hand fumbled against the +mat that served for a door. + +"Who is there?" Mapuhi cried. + +"Nauri," came the answer. "Can you tell me where is my son, Mapuhi?" + +Tefara screamed and gripped her husband's arm. + +"A ghost!" she chattered. "A ghost!" + +Mapuhi's face was a ghastly yellow. He clung weakly to his wife. + +"Good woman," he said in faltering tones, striving to disguise his vice, +"I know your son well. He is living on the east side of the lagoon." + +From without came the sound of a sigh. Mapuhi began to feel elated. He +had fooled the ghost. + +"But where do you come from, old woman?" he asked. + +"From the sea," was the dejected answer. + +"I knew it! I knew it!" screamed Tefara, rocking to and fro. + +"Since when has Tefara bedded in a strange house?" came Nauri's voice +through the matting. + +Mapuhi looked fear and reproach at his wife. It was her voice that had +betrayed them. + +"And since when has Mapuhi, my son, denied his old mother?" the voice +went on. + +"No, no, I have not--Mapuhi has not denied you," he cried. "I am not +Mapuhi. He is on the east end of the lagoon, I tell you." + +Ngakura sat up in bed and began to cry. The matting started to shake. + +"What are you doing?" Mapuhi demanded. + +"I am coming in," said the voice of Nauri. + +One end of the matting lifted. Tefara tried to dive under the blankets, +but Mapuhi held on to her. He had to hold on to something. Together, +struggling with each other, with shivering bodies and chattering teeth, +they gazed with protruding eyes at the lifting mat. They saw Nauri, +dripping with sea water, without her ahu, creep in. They rolled over +backward from her and fought for Ngakura's blanket with which to cover +their heads. + +"You might give your old mother a drink of water," the ghost said +plaintively. + +"Give her a drink of water," Tefara commanded in a shaking voice. + +"Give her a drink of water," Mapuhi passed on the command to Ngakura. + +And together they kicked out Ngakura from under the blanket. A minute +later, peeping, Mapuhi saw the ghost drinking. When it reached out +a shaking hand and laid it on his, he felt the weight of it and was +convinced that it was no ghost. Then he emerged, dragging Tefara after +him, and in a few minutes all were listening to Nauri's tale. And when +she told of Levy, and dropped the pearl into Tefara's hand, even she was +reconciled to the reality of her mother-in-law. + +"In the morning," said Tefara, "you will sell the pearl to Raoul for +five thousand French." + +"The house?" objected Nauri. + +"He will build the house," Tefara answered. "He ways it will cost four +thousand French. Also will he give one thousand French in credit, which +is two thousand Chili." + +"And it will be six fathoms long?" Nauri queried. + +"Ay," answered Mapuhi, "six fathoms." + +"And in the middle room will be the octagon-drop-clock?" + +"Ay, and the round table as well." + +"Then give me something to eat, for I am hungry," said Nauri, +complacently. "And after that we will sleep, for I am weary. And +tomorrow we will have more talk about the house before we sell the +pearl. It will be better if we take the thousand French in cash. Money +is ever better than credit in buying goods from the traders." + + + + +THE WHALE TOOTH + +It was in the early days in Fiji, when John Starhurst arose in the +mission house at Rewa Village and announced his intention of carrying +the gospel throughout all Viti Levu. Now Viti Levu means the "Great +Land," it being the largest island in a group composed of many large +islands, to say nothing of hundreds of small ones. Here and there on +the coasts, living by most precarious tenure, was a sprinkling of +missionaries, traders, bche-de-mer fishers, and whaleship deserters. +The smoke of the hot ovens arose under their windows, and the bodies of +the slain were dragged by their doors on the way to the feasting. + +The Lotu, or the Worship, was progressing slowly, and, often, in +crablike fashion. Chiefs, who announced themselves Christians and +were welcomed into the body of the chapel, had a distressing habit of +backsliding in order to partake of the flesh of some favorite enemy. Eat +or be eaten had been the law of the land; and eat or be eaten promised +to remain the law of the land for a long time to come. There were +chiefs, such as Tanoa, Tuiveikoso, and Tuikilakila, who had literally +eaten hundreds of their fellow men. But among these gluttons Ra +Undreundre ranked highest. Ra Undreundre lived at Takiraki. He kept a +register of his gustatory exploits. A row of stones outside his house +marked the bodies he had eaten. This row was two hundred and thirty +paces long, and the stones in it numbered eight hundred and seventy-two. +Each stone represented a body. The row of stones might have been longer, +had not Ra Undreundre unfortunately received a spear in the small of his +back in a bush skirmish on Somo Somo and been served up on the table of +Naungavuli, whose mediocre string of stones numbered only forty-eight. + +The hard-worked, fever-stricken missionaries stuck doggedly to their +task, at times despairing, and looking forward for some special +manifestation, some outburst of Pentecostal fire that would bring a +glorious harvest of souls. But cannibal Fiji had remained obdurate. The +frizzle-headed man-eaters were loath to leave their fleshpots so long as +the harvest of human carcases was plentiful. Sometimes, when the harvest +was too plentiful, they imposed on the missionaries by letting the word +slip out that on such a day there would be a killing and a barbecue. +Promptly the missionaries would buy the lives of the victims with stick +tobacco, fathoms of calico, and quarts of trade beads. Natheless the +chiefs drove a handsome trade in thus disposing of their surplus live +meat. Also, they could always go out and catch more. + +It was at this juncture that John Starhurst proclaimed that he would +carry the Gospel from coast to coast of the Great Land, and that he +would begin by penetrating the mountain fastnesses of the headwaters of +the Rewa River. His words were received with consternation. + +The native teachers wept softly. His two fellow missionaries strove to +dissuade him. The King of Rewa warned him that the mountain dwellers +would surely kai-kai him--kai-kai meaning "to eat"--and that he, the +King of Rewa, having become Lotu, would be put to the necessity of going +to war with the mountain dwellers. That he could not conquer them he +was perfectly aware. That they might come down the river and sack Rewa +Village he was likewise perfectly aware. But what was he to do? If John +Starhurst persisted in going out and being eaten, there would be a war +that would cost hundreds of lives. + +Later in the day a deputation of Rewa chiefs waited upon John Starhurst. +He heard them patiently, and argued patiently with them, though he +abated not a whit from his purpose. To his fellow missionaries he +explained that he was not bent upon martyrdom; that the call had come +for him to carry the Gospel into Viti Levu, and that he was merely +obeying the Lord's wish. + +To the traders who came and objected most strenuously of all, he said: +"Your objections are valueless. They consist merely of the damage that +may be done your businesses. You are interested in making money, but +I am interested in saving souls. The heathen of this dark land must be +saved." + +John Starhurst was not a fanatic. He would have been the first man to +deny the imputation. He was eminently sane and practical. + +He was sure that his mission would result in good, and he had +private visions of igniting the Pentecostal spark in the souls of the +mountaineers and of inaugurating a revival that would sweep down out of +the mountains and across the length and breadth of the Great Land from +sea to sea and to the isles in the midst of the sea. There were no +wild lights in his mild gray eyes, but only calm resolution and an +unfaltering trust in the Higher Power that was guiding him. + +One man only he found who approved of his project, and that was Ra Vatu, +who secretly encouraged him and offered to lend him guides to the first +foothills. John Starhurst, in turn, was greatly pleased by Ra Vatu's +conduct. From an incorrigible heathen, with a heart as black as his +practices, Ra Vatu was beginning to emanate light. He even spoke of +becoming Lotu. True, three years before he had expressed a similar +intention, and would have entered the church had not John Starhurst +entered objection to his bringing his four wives along with him. Ra +Vatu had had economic and ethical objections to monogamy. Besides, the +missionary's hair-splitting objection had offended him; and, to prove +that he was a free agent and a man of honor, he had swung his huge war +club over Starhurst's head. Starhurst had escaped by rushing in under +the club and holding on to him until help arrived. But all that was now +forgiven and forgotten. Ra Vatu was coming into the church, not merely +as a converted heathen, but as a converted polygamist as well. He was +only waiting, he assured Starhurst, until his oldest wife, who was very +sick, should die. + +John Starhurst journeyed up the sluggish Rewa in one of Ra Vatu's +canoes. This canoe was to carry him for two days, when, the head of +navigation reached, it would return. Far in the distance, lifted +into the sky, could be seen the great smoky mountains that marked the +backbone of the Great Land. All day John Starhurst gazed at them with +eager yearning. + +Sometimes he prayed silently. At other times he was joined in prayer by +Narau, a native teacher, who for seven years had been Lotu, ever since +the day he had been saved from the hot oven by Dr. James Ellery Brown +at the trifling expense of one hundred sticks of tobacco, two cotton +blankets, and a large bottle of painkiller. At the last moment, after +twenty hours of solitary supplication and prayer, Narau's ears had +heard the call to go forth with John Starhurst on the mission to the +mountains. + +"Master, I will surely go with thee," he had announced. + +John Starhurst had hailed him with sober delight. Truly, the Lord was +with him thus to spur on so broken-spirited a creature as Narau. + +"I am indeed without spirit, the weakest of the Lord's vessels," Narau +explained, the first day in the canoe. + +"You should have faith, stronger faith," the missionary chided him. + +Another canoe journeyed up the Rewa that day. But it journeyed an +hour astern, and it took care not to be seen. This canoe was also the +property of Ra Vatu. In it was Erirola, Ra Vatu's first cousin and +trusted henchman; and in the small basket that never left his hand was +a whale tooth. It was a magnificent tooth, fully six inches long, +beautifully proportioned, the ivory turned yellow and purple with age. +This tooth was likewise the property of Ra Vatu; and in Fiji, when such +a tooth goes forth, things usually happen. For this is the virtue of +the whale tooth: Whoever accepts it cannot refuse the request that may +accompany it or follow it. The request may be anything from a human life +to a tribal alliance, and no Fijian is so dead to honor as to deny the +request when once the tooth has been accepted. Sometimes the request +hangs fire, or the fulfilment is delayed, with untoward consequences. + +High up the Rewa, at the village of a chief, Mongondro by name, John +Starhurst rested at the end of the second day of the journey. In the +morning, attended by Narau, he expected to start on foot for the smoky +mountains that were now green and velvety with nearness. Mongondro was +a sweet-tempered, mild-mannered little old chief, short-sighted +and afflicted with elephantiasis, and no longer inclined toward the +turbulence of war. He received the missionary with warm hospitality, +gave him food from his own table, and even discussed religious matters +with him. Mongondro was of an inquiring bent of mind, and pleased +John Starhurst greatly by asking him to account for the existence and +beginning of things. When the missionary had finished his summary of +the Creation according to Genesis, he saw that Mongondro was deeply +affected. The little old chief smoked silently for some time. Then he +took the pipe from his mouth and shook his head sadly. + +"It cannot be," he said. "I, Mongondro, in my youth, was a good workman +with the adze. Yet three months did it take me to make a canoe--a small +canoe, a very small canoe. And you say that all this land and water was +made by one man--" + +"Nay, was made by one God, the only true God," the missionary +interrupted. + +"It is the same thing," Mongondro went on, "that all the land and all +the water, the trees, the fish, and bush and mountains, the sun, the +moon, and the stars, were made in six days! No, no. I tell you that in +my youth I was an able man, yet did it require me three months for one +small canoe. It is a story to frighten children with; but no man can +believe it." + +"I am a man," the missionary said. + +"True, you are a man. But it is not given to my dark understanding to +know what you believe." + +"I tell you, I do believe that everything was made in six days." + +"So you say, so you say," the old cannibal murmured soothingly. + +It was not until after John Starhurst and Narau had gone off to bed +that Erirola crept into the chief's house, and, after diplomatic speech, +handed the whale tooth to Mongondro. + +The old chief held the tooth in his hands for a long time. It was a +beautiful tooth, and he yearned for it. Also, he divined the request +that must accompany it. "No, no; whale teeth were beautiful," and +his mouth watered for it, but he passed it back to Erirola with many +apologies. + + ***** + +In the early dawn John Starhurst was afoot, striding along the bush +trail in his big leather boots, at his heels the faithful Narau, himself +at the heels of a naked guide lent him by Mongondro to show the way to +the next village, which was reached by midday. Here a new guide showed +the way. A mile in the rear plodded Erirola, the whale tooth in the +basket slung on his shoulder. For two days more he brought up the +missionary's rear, offering the tooth to the village chiefs. But village +after village refused the tooth. It followed so quickly the missionary's +advent that they divined the request that would be made, and would have +none of it. + +They were getting deep into the mountains, and Erirola took a secret +trail, cut in ahead of the missionary, and reached the stronghold of the +Buli of Gatoka. Now the Buli was unaware of John Starhurst's imminent +arrival. Also, the tooth was beautiful--an extraordinary specimen, while +the coloring of it was of the rarest order. The tooth was presented +publicly. The Buli of Gatoka, seated on his best mat, surrounded by his +chief men, three busy fly-brushers at his back, deigned to receive from +the hand of his herald the whale tooth presented by Ra Vatu and carried +into the mountains by his cousin, Erirola. A clapping of hands went up +at the acceptance of the present, the assembled headman, heralds, and +fly-brushers crying aloud in chorus: + +"A! woi! woi! woi! A! woi! woi! woi! A tabua levu! woi! woi! A mudua, +mudua, mudua!' + +"Soon will come a man, a white man," Erirola began, after the proper +pause. "He is a missionary man, and he will come today. Ra Vatu is +pleased to desire his boots. He wishes to present them to his good +friend, Mongondro, and it is in his mind to send them with the feet +along in them, for Mongondro is an old man and his teeth are not good. +Be sure, O Buli, that the feet go along in the boots. As for the rest of +him, it may stop here." + +The delight in the whale tooth faded out of the Buli's eyes, and he +glanced about him dubiously. Yet had he already accepted the tooth. + +"A little thing like a missionary does not matter," Erirola prompted. + +"No, a little thing like a missionary does not matter," the Buli +answered, himself again. "Mongondro shall have the boots. Go, you young +men, some three or four of you, and meet the missionary on the trail. Be +sure you bring back the boots as well." + +"It is too late," said Erirola. "Listen! He comes now." + +Breaking through the thicket of brush, John Starhurst, with Narau close +on his heels, strode upon the scene. The famous boots, having filled in +wading the stream, squirted fine jets of water at every step. Starhurst +looked about him with flashing eyes. Upborne by an unwavering trust, +untouched by doubt or fear, he exulted in all he saw. He knew that +since the beginning of time he was the first white man ever to tread the +mountain stronghold of Gatoka. + +The grass houses clung to the steep mountain side or overhung the +rushing Rewa. On either side towered a mighty precipice. At the best, +three hours of sunlight penetrated that narrow gorge. No cocoanuts +nor bananas were to be seen, though dense, tropic vegetation overran +everything, dripping in airy festoons from the sheer lips of the +precipices and running riot in all the crannied ledges. At the far end +of the gorge the Rewa leaped eight hundred feet in a single span, while +the atmosphere of the rock fortress pulsed to the rhythmic thunder of +the fall. + +From the Buli's house, John Starhurst saw emerging the Buli and his +followers. + +"I bring you good tidings," was the missionary's greeting. + +"Who has sent you?" the Buli rejoined quietly. + +"God." + +"It is a new name in Viti Levu," the Buli grinned. "Of what islands, +villages, or passes may he be chief?" + +"He is the chief over all islands, all villages, all passes," John +Starhurst answered solemnly. "He is the Lord over heaven and earth, and +I am come to bring His word to you." + +"Has he sent whale teeth?" was the insolent query. + +"No, but more precious than whale teeth is the--" + +"It is the custom, between chiefs, to send whale teeth," the Buli +interrupted. + +"Your chief is either a niggard, or you are a fool, to come empty-handed +into the mountains. Behold, a more generous than you is before you." + +So saying, he showed the whale tooth he had received from Erirola. + +Narau groaned. + +"It is the whale tooth of Ra Vatu," he whispered to Starhurst. "I know +it well. Now are we undone." + +"A gracious thing," the missionary answered, passing his hand through +his long beard and adjusting his glasses. "Ra Vatu has arranged that we +should be well received." + +But Narau groaned again, and backed away from the heels he had dogged so +faithfully. + +"Ra Vatu is soon to become Lotu," Starhurst explained, "and I have come +bringing the Lotu to you." + +"I want none of your Lotu," said the Buli, proudly. "And it is in my +mind that you will be clubbed this day." + +The Buli nodded to one of his big mountaineers, who stepped forward, +swinging a club. Narau bolted into the nearest house, seeking to hide +among the woman and mats; but John Starhurst sprang in under the club +and threw his arms around his executioner's neck. From this point of +vantage he proceeded to argue. He was arguing for his life, and he knew +it; but he was neither excited nor afraid. + +"It would be an evil thing for you to kill me," he told the man. "I have +done you no wrong, nor have I done the Buli wrong." + +So well did he cling to the neck of the one man that they dared not +strike with their clubs. And he continued to cling and to dispute for +his life with those who clamored for his death. + +"I am John Starhurst," he went on calmly. "I have labored in Fiji for +three years, and I have done it for no profit. I am here among you for +good. Why should any man kill me? To kill me will not profit any man." + +The Buli stole a look at the whale tooth. He was well paid for the deed. + +The missionary was surrounded by a mass of naked savages, all struggling +to get at him. The death song, which is the song of the oven, was +raised, and his expostulations could no longer be heard. But so +cunningly did he twine and wreathe his body about his captor's that the +death blow could not be struck. Erirola smiled, and the Buli grew angry. + +"Away with you!" he cried. "A nice story to go back to the coast--a +dozen of you and one missionary, without weapons, weak as a woman, +overcoming all of you." + +"Wait, O Buli," John Starhurst called out from the thick of the scuffle, +"and I will overcome even you. For my weapons are Truth and Right, and +no man can withstand them." + +"Come to me, then," the Buli answered, "for my weapon is only a poor +miserable club, and, as you say, it cannot withstand you." + +The group separated from him, and John Starhurst stood alone, facing the +Buli, who was leaning on an enormous, knotted warclub. + +"Come to me, missionary man, and overcome me," the Buli challenged. + +"Even so will I come to you and overcome you," John Starhurst made +answer, first wiping his spectacles and settling them properly, then +beginning his advance. + +The Buli raised the club and waited. + +"In the first place, my death will profit you nothing," began the +argument. + +"I leave the answer to my club," was the Buli's reply. + +And to every point he made the same reply, at the same time watching the +missionary closely in order to forestall that cunning run-in under the +lifted club. Then, and for the first time, John Starhurst knew that his +death was at hand. He made no attempt to run in. Bareheaded, he stood in +the sun and prayed aloud--the mysterious figure of the inevitable white +man, who, with Bible, bullet, or rum bottle, has confronted the amazed +savage in his every stronghold. Even so stood John Starhurst in the rock +fortress of the Buli of Gatoka. + +"Forgive them, for they know not what they do," he prayed. "O Lord! Have +mercy upon Fiji. Have compassion for Fiji. O Jehovah, hear us for His +sake, Thy Son, whom Thou didst give that through Him all men might also +become Thy children. From Thee we came, and our mind is that to Thee +we may return. The land is dark, O Lord, the land is dark. But Thou art +mighty to save. Reach out Thy hand, O Lord, and save Fiji, poor cannibal +Fiji." + +The Buli grew impatient. + +"Now will I answer thee," he muttered, at the same time swinging his +club with both hands. + +Narau, hiding among the women and the mats, heard the impact of the +blow and shuddered. Then the death song arose, and he knew his beloved +missionary's body was being dragged to the oven as he heard the words: + +"Drag me gently. Drag me gently." + +"For I am the champion of my land." + +"Give thanks! Give thanks! Give thanks!" + +Next, a single voice arose out of the din, asking: + +"Where is the brave man?" + +A hundred voices bellowed the answer: + +"Gone to be dragged into the oven and cooked." + +"Where is the coward?" the single voice demanded. + +"Gone to report!" the hundred voices bellowed back. "Gone to report! +Gone to report!" + +Narau groaned in anguish of spirit. The words of the old song were true. +He was the coward, and nothing remained to him but to go and report. + + + + +MAUKI + +He weighed one hundred and ten pounds. His hair was kinky and negroid, +and he was black. He was peculiarly black. He was neither blue-black nor +purple-black, but plum-black. His name was Mauki, and he was the son +of a chief. He had three tambos. Tambo is Melanesian for taboo, and +is first cousin to that Polynesian word. Mauki's three tambos were +as follows: First, he must never shake hands with a woman, nor have a +woman's hand touch him or any of his personal belongings; secondly, he +must never eat clams nor any food from a fire in which clams had been +cooked; thirdly, he must never touch a crocodile, nor travel in a canoe +that carried any part of a crocodile even if as large as a tooth. + +Of a different black were his teeth, which were deep black, or, perhaps +better, LAMP-black. They had been made so in a single night, by his +mother, who had compressed about them a powdered mineral which was +dug from the landslide back of Port Adams. Port Adams is a salt-water +village on Malaita, and Malaita is the most savage island in the +Solomons--so savage that no traders or planters have yet gained a +foothold on it; while, from the time of the earliest bche-de-mer +fishers and sandalwood traders down to the latest labor recruiters +equipped with automatic rifles and gasolene engines, scores of white +adventurers have been passed out by tomahawks and soft-nosed Snider +bullets. So Malaita remains today, in the twentieth century, the +stamping ground of the labor recruiters, who farm its coasts for +laborers who engage and contract themselves to toil on the plantations +of the neighboring and more civilized islands for a wage of thirty +dollars a year. The natives of those neighboring and more civilized +islands have themselves become too civilized to work on plantations. + +Mauki's ears were pierced, not in one place, nor two places, but in a +couple of dozen places. In one of the smaller holes he carried a clay +pipe. The larger holes were too large for such use. The bowl of the pipe +would have fallen through. In fact, in the largest hole in each ear +he habitually wore round wooden plugs that were an even four inches in +diameter. Roughly speaking, the circumference of said holes was twelve +and one-half inches. Mauki was catholic in his tastes. In the various +smaller holes he carried such things as empty rifle cartridges, +horseshoe nails, copper screws, pieces of string, braids of sennit, +strips of green leaf, and, in the cool of the day, scarlet hibiscus +flowers. From which it will be seen that pockets were not necessary to +his well-being. Besides, pockets were impossible, for his only wearing +apparel consisted of a piece of calico several inches wide. A pocket +knife he wore in his hair, the blade snapped down on a kinky lock. His +most prized possession was the handle of a china cup, which he suspended +from a ring of turtle-shell, which, in turn, was passed through the +partition-cartilage of his nose. + +But in spite of embellishments, Mauki had a nice face. It was really +a pretty face, viewed by any standard, and for a Melanesian it was a +remarkably good-looking face. Its one fault was its lack of strength. It +was softly effeminate, almost girlish. The features were small, regular, +and delicate. The chin was weak, and the mouth was weak. There was no +strength nor character in the jaws, forehead, and nose. In the eyes only +could be caught any hint of the unknown quantities that were so large a +part of his make-up and that other persons could not understand. These +unknown quantities were pluck, pertinacity, fearlessness, imagination, +and cunning; and when they found expression in some consistent and +striking action, those about him were astounded. + +Mauki's father was chief over the village at Port Adams, and thus, by +birth a salt-water man, Mauki was half amphibian. He knew the way of the +fishes and oysters, and the reef was an open book to him. Canoes, also, +he knew. He learned to swim when he was a year old. At seven years he +could hold his breath a full minute and swim straight down to bottom +through thirty feet of water. And at seven years he was stolen by +the bushmen, who cannot even swim and who are afraid of salt water. +Thereafter Mauki saw the sea only from a distance, through rifts in the +jungle and from open spaces on the high mountain sides. He became the +slave of old Fanfoa, head chief over a score of scattered bush-villages +on the range-lips of Malaita, the smoke of which, on calm mornings, +is about the only evidence the seafaring white men have of the teeming +interior population. For the whites do not penetrate Malaita. They tried +it once, in the days when the search was on for gold, but they always +left their heads behind to grin from the smoky rafters of the bushmen's +huts. + +When Mauki was a young man of seventeen, Fanfoa got out of tobacco. He +got dreadfully out of tobacco. It was hard times in all his villages. +He had been guilty of a mistake. Suo was a harbor so small that a large +schooner could not swing at anchor in it. It was surrounded by mangroves +that overhung the deep water. It was a trap, and into the trap sailed +two white men in a small ketch. They were after recruits, and they +possessed much tobacco and trade goods, to say nothing of three rifles +and plenty of ammunition. Now there were no salt-water men living at +Suo, and it was there that the bushmen could come down to the sea. The +ketch did a splendid traffic. It signed on twenty recruits the first +day. Even old Fanfoa signed on. And that same day the score of new +recruits chopped off the two white men's head, killed the boat's crew, +and burned the ketch. Thereafter, and for three months, there was +tobacco and trade goods in plenty and to spare in all the bush villages. +Then came the man-of-war that threw shells for miles into the hills, +frightening the people out of their villages and into the deeper bush. +Next the man-of-war sent landing parties ashore. The villages were all +burned, along with the tobacco and trade stuff. + +The cocoanuts and bananas were chopped down, the taro gardens uprooted, +and the pigs and chickens killed. + +It taught Fanfoa a lesson, but in the meantime he was out of tobacco. +Also, his young men were too frightened to sign on with the recruiting +vessels. That was why Fanfoa ordered his slave, Mauki, to be carried +down and signed on for half a case of tobacco advance, along with +knives, axes, calico, and beads, which he would pay for with his toil +on the plantations. Mauki was sorely frightened when they brought him on +board the schooner. He was a lamb led to the slaughter. White men were +ferocious creatures. They had to be, or else they would not make a +practice of venturing along the Malaita coast and into all harbors, two +on a schooner, when each schooner carried from fifteen to twenty blacks +as boat's crew, and often as high as sixty or seventy black recruits. In +addition to this, there was always the danger of the shore population, +the sudden attack and the cutting off of the schooner and all hands. +Truly, white men must be terrible. Besides, they were possessed of such +devil-devils--rifles that shot very rapidly many times, things of iron +and brass that made the schooners go when there was no wind, and boxes +that talked and laughed just as men talked and laughed. + +Ay, and he had heard of one white man whose particular devil-devil was +so powerful that he could take out all his teeth and put them back at +will. + +Down into the cabin they took Mauki. On deck, the one white man kept +guard with two revolvers in his belt. In the cabin the other white man +sat with a book before him, in which he inscribed strange marks and +lines. He looked at Mauki as though he had been a pig or a fowl, glanced +under the hollows of his arms, and wrote in the book. Then he held out +the writing stick and Mauki just barely touched it with his hand, in so +doing pledging himself to toil for three years on the plantations of the +Moongleam Soap Company. It was not explained to him that the will of +the ferocious white men would be used to enforce the pledge, and that, +behind all, for the same use, was all the power and all the warships of +Great Britain. + +Other blacks there were on board, from unheard-of far places, and when +the white man spoke to them, they tore the long feather from Mauki's +hair, cut that same hair short, and wrapped about his waist a lava-lava +of bright yellow calico. + +After many days on the schooner, and after beholding more land and +islands than he had ever dreamed of, he was landed on New Georgia, and +put to work in the field clearing jungle and cutting cane grass. For the +first time he knew what work was. Even as a slave to Fanfoa he had not +worked like this. And he did not like work. It was up at dawn and in at +dark, on two meals a day. And the food was tiresome. For weeks at a time +they were given nothing but sweet potatoes to eat, and for weeks at +a time it would be nothing but rice. He cut out the cocoanut from the +shells day after day; and for long days and weeks he fed the fires +that smoked the copra, till his eyes got sore and he was set to +felling trees. He was a good axe-man, and later he was put in the +bridge-building gang. Once, he was punished by being put in the +road-building gang. At times he served as boat's crew in the whale +boats, when they brought in copra from distant beaches or when the white +men went out to dynamite fish. + +Among other things he learned beche-de-mer English, with which he could +talk with all white men, and with all recruits who otherwise would have +talked in a thousand different dialects. Also, he learned certain things +about the white men, principally that they kept their word. If they told +a boy he was going to receive a stick of tobacco, he got it. If they +told a boy they would knock seven bells out of him if he did a certain +thing, when he did that thing, seven bells invariably were knocked out +of him. Mauki did not know what seven bells were, but they occurred +in beche-de-mer, and he imagined them to be the blood and teeth that +sometimes accompanied the process of knocking out seven bells. One other +thing he learned: no boy was struck or punished unless he did wrong. +Even when the white men were drunk, as they were frequently, they never +struck unless a rule had been broken. + +Mauki did not like the plantation. He hated work, and he was the son +of a chief. Furthermore, it was ten years since he had been stolen from +Port Adams by Fanfoa, and he was homesick. He was even homesick for the +slavery under Fanfoa. So he ran away. He struck back into the bush, with +the idea of working southward to the beach and stealing a canoe in which +to go home to Port Adams. + +But the fever got him, and he was captured and brought back more dead +than alive. + +A second time he ran away, in the company of two Malaita boys. They got +down the coast twenty miles, and were hidden in the hut of a Malaita +freeman, who dwelt in that village. But in the dead of night two white +men came, who were not afraid of all the village people and who knocked +seven bells out of the three runaways, tied them like pigs, and +tossed them into the whale boat. But the man in whose house they had +hidden--seven times seven bells must have been knocked out of him from +the way the hair, skin, and teeth flew, and he was discouraged for the +rest of his natural life from harboring runaway laborers. + +For a year Mauki toiled on. Then he was made a house-boy, and had good +food and easy times, with light work in keeping the house clean and +serving the white men with whiskey and beer at all hours of the day and +most hours of the night. He liked it, but he liked Port Adams more. He +had two years longer to serve, but two years were too long for him in +the throes of homesickness. He had grown wiser with his year of service, +and, being now a house-boy, he had opportunity. He had the cleaning of +the rifles, and he knew where the key to the store room was hung. He +planned to escape, and one night ten Malaita boys and one boy from San +Cristoval sneaked from the barracks and dragged one of the whale boats +down to the beach. It was Mauki who supplied the key that opened the +padlock on the boat, and it was Mauki who equipped the boat with a dozen +Winchesters, an immense amount of ammunition, a case of dynamite with +detonators and fuse, and ten cases of tobacco. + +The northwest monsoon was blowing, and they fled south in the night +time, hiding by day on detached and uninhabited islets, or dragging +their whale boat into the bush on the large islands. Thus they gained +Guadalcanar, skirted halfway along it, and crossed the Indispensable +Straits to Florida Island. It was here that they killed the San +Cristoval boy, saving his head and cooking and eating the rest of him. +The Malaita coast was only twenty miles away, but the last night a +strong current and baffling winds prevented them from gaining across. +Daylight found them still several miles from their goal. But daylight +brought a cutter, in which were two white men, who were not afraid of +eleven Malaita men armed with twelve rifles. Mauki and his companions +were carried back to Tulagi, where lived the great white master of all +the white men. And the great white master held a court, after which, +one by one, the runaways were tied up and given twenty lashes each, +and sentenced to a fine of fifteen dollars. They were sent back to New +Georgia, where the white men knocked seven bells out of them all around +and put them to work. But Mauki was no longer house-boy. He was put in +the road-making gang. The fine of fifteen dollars had been paid by the +white men from whom he had run away, and he was told that he would have +to work it out, which meant six months' additional toil. Further, his +share of the stolen tobacco earned him another year of toil. + +Port Adams was now three years and a half away, so he stole a canoe one +night, hid on the islets in Manning Straits, passed through the +Straits, and began working along the eastern coast of Ysabel, only to +be captured, two-thirds of the way along, by the white men on Meringe +Lagoon. After a week, he escaped from them and took to the bush. There +were no bush natives on Ysabel, only salt-water men, who were all +Christians. The white men put up a reward of five-hundred sticks of +tobacco, and every time Mauki ventured down to the sea to steal a canoe +he was chased by the salt-water men. Four months of this passed, when, +the reward having been raised to a thousand sticks, he was caught and +sent back to New Georgia and the road-building gang. Now a thousand +sticks are worth fifty dollars, and Mauki had to pay the reward himself, +which required a year and eight months' labor. So Port Adams was now +five years away. + +His homesickness was greater than ever, and it did not appeal to him to +settle down and be good, work out his four years, and go home. The +next time, he was caught in the very act of running away. His case was +brought before Mr. Haveby, the island manager of the Moongleam Soap +Company, who adjudged him an incorrigible. The Company had plantations +on the Santa Cruz Islands, hundreds of miles across the sea, and there +it sent its Solomon Islands' incorrigibles. And there Mauki was sent, +though he never arrived. The schooner stopped at Santa Anna, and in the +night Mauki swam ashore, where he stole two rifles and a case of tobacco +from the trader and got away in a canoe to Cristoval. Malaita was now to +the north, fifty or sixty miles away. But when he attempted the passage, +he was caught by a light gale and driven back to Santa Anna, where +the trader clapped him in irons and held him against the return of the +schooner from Santa Cruz. The two rifles the trader recovered, but the +case of tobacco was charged up to Mauki at the rate of another year. The +sum of years he now owed the Company was six. + +On the way back to New Georgia, the schooner dropped anchor in Marau +Sound, which lies at the southeastern extremity of Guadalcanar. Mauki +swam ashore with handcuffs on his wrists and got away to the bush. The +schooner went on, but the Moongleam trader ashore offered a thousand +sticks, and to him Mauki was brought by the bushmen with a year and +eight months tacked on to his account. Again, and before the schooner +called in, he got away, this time in a whale boat accompanied by a case +of the trader's tobacco. But a northwest gale wrecked him upon Ugi, +where the Christian natives stole his tobacco and turned him over to the +Moongleam trader who resided there. The tobacco the natives stole meant +another year for him, and the tale was now eight years and a half. + +"We'll send him to Lord Howe," said Mr. Haveby. "Bunster is there, and +we'll let them settle it between them. It will be a case, I imagine, of +Mauki getting Bunster, or Bunster getting Mauki, and good riddance in +either event." + +If one leaves Meringe Lagoon, on Ysabel, and steers a course due north, +magnetic, at the end of one hundred and fifty miles he will lift the +pounded coral beaches of Lord Howe above the sea. Lord Howe is a ring of +land some one hundred and fifty miles in circumference, several hundred +yards wide at its widest, and towering in places to a height of ten feet +above sea level. Inside this ring of sand is a mighty lagoon studded +with coral patches. Lord Howe belongs to the Solomons neither +geographically nor ethnologically. It is an atoll, while the Solomons +are high islands; and its people and language are Polynesian, while the +inhabitants of the Solomons are Melanesian. + +Lord Howe has been populated by the westward Polynesian drift which +continues to this day, big outrigger canoes being washed upon its +beaches by the southeast trade. That there has been a slight Melanesian +drift in the period of the northwest monsoon, is also evident. + +Nobody ever comes to Lord Howe, or Ontong-Java as it is sometimes +called. Thomas Cook & Son do not sell tickets to it, and tourists do not +dream of its existence. Not even a white missionary has landed on its +shore. Its five thousand natives are as peaceable as they are primitive. +Yet they were not always peaceable. The Sailing Directions speak of +them as hostile and treacherous. But the men who compile the Sailing +Directions have never heard of the change that was worked in the hearts +of the inhabitants, who, not many years ago, cut off a big bark and +killed all hands with the exception of the second mate. The survivor +carried the news to his brothers. The captains of three trading +schooners returned with him to Lord Howe. They sailed their vessels +right into the lagoon and proceeded to preach the white man's gospel +that only white men shall kill white men and that the lesser breeds must +keep hands off. The schooners sailed up and down the lagoon, harrying +and destroying. There was no escape from the narrow sand-circle, no +bush to which to flee. The men were shot down at sight, and there was +no avoiding being sighted. The villages were burned, the canoes smashed, +the chickens and pigs killed, and the precious cocoanut trees chopped +down. For a month this continued, when the schooner sailed away; but the +fear of the white man had been seared into the souls of the islanders +and never again were they rash enough to harm one. + +Max Bunster was the one white man on Lord Howe, trading in the pay of +the ubiquitous Moongleam Soap Company. And the Company billeted him +on Lord Howe, because, next to getting rid of him, it was the most +out-of-the-way place to be found. That the Company did not get rid of +him was due to the difficulty of finding another man to take his place. +He was a strapping big German, with something wrong in his brain. +Semi-madness would be a charitable statement of his condition. He was +a bully and a coward, and a thrice-bigger savage than any savage on the +island. + +Being a coward, his brutality was of the cowardly order. When he +first went into the Company's employ, he was stationed on Savo. When a +consumptive colonial was sent to take his place, he beat him up with his +fists and sent him off a wreck in the schooner that brought him. + +Mr. Haveby next selected a young Yorkshire giant to relieve Bunster. The +Yorkshire man had a reputation as a bruiser and preferred fighting to +eating. But Bunster wouldn't fight. He was a regular little lamb--for +ten days, at the end of which time the Yorkshire man was prostrated by a +combined attack of dysentery and fever. Then Bunster went for him, among +other things getting him down and jumping on him a score or so of times. +Afraid of what would happen when his victim recovered. Bunster fled away +in a cutter to Guvutu, where he signalized himself by beating up a young +Englishman already crippled by a Boer bullet through both hips. + +Then it was that Mr. Haveby sent Bunster to Lord Howe, the falling-off +place. He celebrated his landing by mopping up half a case of gin and by +thrashing the elderly and wheezy mate of the schooner which had brought +him. When the schooner departed, he called the kanakas down to the beach +and challenged them to throw him in a wrestling bout, promising a case +of tobacco to the one who succeeded. Three kanakas he threw, but was +promptly thrown by a fourth, who, instead of receiving the tobacco, got +a bullet through his lungs. + +And so began Bunster's reign on Lord Howe. Three thousand people lived +in the principal village; but it was deserted, even in broad day, when +he passed through. Men, women, and children fled before him. Even the +dogs and pigs got out of the way, while the king was not above hiding +under a mat. The two prime ministers lived in terror of Bunster, who +never discussed any moot subject, but struck out with his fists instead. + +And to Lord Howe came Mauki, to toil for Bunster for eight long years +and a half. There was no escaping from Lord Howe. For better or worse, +Bunster and he were tied together. Bunster weighed two hundred pounds. +Mauki weighed one hundred and ten. Bunster was a degenerate brute. But +Mauki was a primitive savage. While both had wills and ways of their +own. + +Mauki had no idea of the sort of master he was to work for. He had had +no warnings, and he had concluded as a matter of course that Bunster +would be like other white men, a drinker of much whiskey, a ruler and a +lawgiver who always kept his word and who never struck a boy undeserved. +Bunster had the advantage. He knew all about Mauki, and gloated over the +coming into possession of him. The last cook was suffering from a broken +arm and a dislocated shoulder, so Bunster made Mauki cook and general +house-boy. + +And Mauki soon learned that there were white men and white men. On the +very day the schooner departed he was ordered to buy a chicken from +Samisee, the native Tongan missionary. But Samisee had sailed across +the lagoon and would not be back for three days. Mauki returned with +the information. He climbed the steep stairway (the house stood on piles +twelve feet above the sand), and entered the living room to report. +The trader demanded the chicken. Mauki opened his mouth to explain the +missionary's absence. But Bunster did not care for explanations. He +struck out with his fist. The blow caught Mauki on the mouth and lifted +him into the air. Clear through the doorway he flew, across the narrow +veranda, breaking the top railing, and down to the ground. + +His lips were a contused, shapeless mass, and his mouth was full of +blood and broken teeth. + +"That'll teach you that back talk don't go with me," the trader shouted, +purple with rage, peering down at him over the broken railing. + +Mauki had never met a white man like this, and he resolved to walk small +and never offend. He saw the boat boys knocked about, and one of +them put in irons for three days with nothing to eat for the crime of +breaking a rowlock while pulling. Then, too, he heard the gossip of the +village and learned why Bunster had taken a third wife--by force, as was +well known. The first and second wives lay in the graveyard, under the +white coral sand, with slabs of coral rock at head and feet. They had +died, it was said, from beatings he had given them. The third wife was +certainly ill-used, as Mauki could see for himself. + +But there was no way by which to avoid offending the white man who +seemed offended with life. When Mauki kept silent, he was struck and +called a sullen brute. When he spoke, he was struck for giving back +talk. When he was grave, Bunster accused him of plotting and gave him a +thrashing in advance; and when he strove to be cheerful and to smile, +he was charged with sneering at his lord and master and given a taste of +stick. Bunster was a devil. + +The village would have done for him, had it not remembered the lesson +of the three schooners. It might have done for him anyway, if there had +been a bush to which to flee. As it was, the murder of the white men, +of any white man, would bring a man-of-war that would kill the offenders +and chop down the precious cocoanut trees. Then there were the boat +boys, with minds fully made up to drown him by accident at the first +opportunity to capsize the cutter. Only Bunster saw to it that the boat +did not capsize. + +Mauki was of a different breed, and escape being impossible while +Bunster lived, he was resolved to get the white man. The trouble was +that he could never find a chance. Bunster was always on guard. Day +and night his revolvers were ready to hand. He permitted nobody to pass +behind his back, as Mauki learned after having been knocked down several +times. Bunster knew that he had more to fear from the good-natured, even +sweet-faced, Malaita boy than from the entire population of Lord Howe; +and it gave added zest to the programme of torment he was carrying out. +And Mauki walked small, accepted his punishments, and waited. + +All other white men had respected his tambos, but not so Bunster. + +Mauki's weekly allowance of tobacco was two sticks. Bunster passed them +to his woman and ordered Mauki to receive them from her hand. But this +could not be, and Mauki went without his tobacco. In the same way he was +made to miss many a meal, and to go hungry many a day. He was ordered to +make chowder out of the big clams that grew in the lagoon. This he could +not do, for clams were tambo. Six times in succession he refused to +touch the clams, and six times he was knocked senseless. Bunster knew +that the boy would die first, but called his refusal mutiny, and would +have killed him had there been another cook to take his place. + +One of the trader's favorite tricks was to catch Mauki's kinky locks and +bat his head against the wall. Another trick was to catch Mauki unawares +and thrust the live end of a cigar against his flesh. This Bunster +called vaccination, and Mauki was vaccinated a number of times a week. +Once, in a rage, Bunster ripped the cup handle from Mauki's nose, +tearing the hole clear out of the cartilage. + +"Oh, what a mug!" was his comment, when he surveyed the damage he had +wrought. + +The skin of a shark is like sandpaper, but the skin of a ray fish is +like a rasp. In the South Seas the natives use it as a wood file in +smoothing down canoes and paddles. Bunster had a mitten made of ray fish +skin. The first time he tried it on Mauki, with one sweep of the hand +it fetched the skin off his back from neck to armpit. Bunster was +delighted. He gave his wife a taste of the mitten, and tried it out +thoroughly on the boat boys. The prime ministers came in for a stroke +each, and they had to grin and take it for a joke. + +"Laugh, damn you, laugh!" was the cue he gave. + +Mauki came in for the largest share of the mitten. Never a day passed +without a caress from it. There were times when the loss of so much +cuticle kept him awake at night, and often the half-healed surface +was raked raw afresh by the facetious Mr. Bunster. Mauki continued his +patient wait, secure in the knowledge that sooner or later his time +would come. And he knew just what he was going to do, down to the +smallest detail, when the time did come. + +One morning Bunster got up in a mood for knocking seven bells out of +the universe. He began on Mauki, and wound up on Mauki, in the interval +knocking down his wife and hammering all the boat boys. At breakfast he +called the coffee slops and threw the scalding contents of the cup into +Mauki's face. By ten o'clock Bunster was shivering with ague, and half +an hour later he was burning with fever. It was no ordinary attack. It +quickly became pernicious, and developed into black-water fever. The +days passed, and he grew weaker and weaker, never leaving his bed. Mauki +waited and watched, the while his skin grew intact once more. He ordered +the boys to beach the cutter, scrub her bottom, and give her a general +overhauling. They thought the order emanated from Bunster, and they +obeyed. But Bunster at the time was lying unconscious and giving no +orders. This was Mauki's chance, but still he waited. + +When the worst was past, and Bunster lay convalescent and conscious, but +weak as a baby, Mauki packed his few trinkets, including the china +cup handle, into his trade box. Then he went over to the village and +interviewed the king and his two prime ministers. + +"This fella Bunster, him good fella you like too much?" he asked. + +They explained in one voice that they liked the trader not at all. The +ministers poured forth a recital of all the indignities and wrongs +that had been heaped upon them. The king broke down and wept. Mauki +interrupted rudely. + +"You savve me--me big fella marster my country. You no like 'm this +fella white marster. Me no like 'm. Plenty good you put hundred +cocoanut, two hundred cocoanut, three hundred cocoanut along cutter. +Him finish, you go sleep 'm good fella. Altogether kanaka sleep m good +fella. Bime by big fella noise along house, you no savve hear 'm that +fella noise. You altogether sleep strong fella too much." + +In like manner Mauki interviewed the boat boys. Then he ordered +Bunster's wife to return to her family house. Had she refused, he would +have been in a quandary, for his tambo would not have permitted him to +lay hands on her. + +The house deserted, he entered the sleeping room, where the trader lay +in a doze. Mauki first removed the revolvers, then placed the ray fish +mitten on his hand. Bunster's first warning was a stroke of the mitten +that removed the skin the full length of his nose. + +"Good fella, eh?" Mauki grinned, between two strokes, one of which swept +the forehead bare and the other of which cleaned off one side of his +face. "Laugh, damn you, laugh." + +Mauki did his work throughly, and the kanakas, hiding in their houses, +heard the "big fella noise" that Bunster made and continued to make for +an hour or more. + +When Mauki was done, he carried the boat compass and all the rifles and +ammunition down to the cutter, which he proceeded to ballast with cases +of tobacco. It was while engaged in this that a hideous, skinless thing +came out of the house and ran screaming down the beach till it fell in +the sand and mowed and gibbered under the scorching sun. Mauki looked +toward it and hesitated. Then he went over and removed the head, which +he wrapped in a mat and stowed in the stern locker of the cutter. + +So soundly did the kanakas sleep through that long hot day that they +did not see the cutter run out through the passage and head south, +close-hauled on the southeast trade. Nor was the cutter ever sighted on +that long tack to the shores of Ysabel, and during the tedious head-beat +from there to Malaita. He landed at Port Adams with a wealth of rifles +and tobacco such as no one man had ever possessed before. But he did +not stop there. He had taken a white man's head, and only the bush could +shelter him. So back he went to the bush villages, where he shot old +Fanfoa and half a dozen of the chief men, and made himself the chief +over all the villages. When his father died, Mauki's brother ruled +in Port Adams, and joined together, salt-water men and bushmen, the +resulting combination was the strongest of the ten score fighting tribes +of Malaita. + +More than his fear of the British government was Mauki's fear of the +all-powerful Moongleam Soap Company; and one day a message came up +to him in the bush, reminding him that he owed the Company eight and +one-half years of labor. He sent back a favorable answer, and then +appeared the inevitable white man, the captain of the schooner, the +only white man during Mauki's reign, who ventured the bush and came out +alive. This man not only came out, but he brought with him seven hundred +and fifty dollars in gold sovereigns--the money price of eight years +and a half of labor plus the cost price of certain rifles and cases of +tobacco. + +Mauki no longer weighs one hundred and ten pounds. His stomach is +three times its former girth, and he has four wives. He has many +other things--rifles and revolvers, the handle of a china cup, and an +excellent collection of bushmen's heads. But more precious than the +entire collection is another head, perfectly dried and cured, with sandy +hair and a yellowish beard, which is kept wrapped in the finest of fibre +lava-lavas. When Mauki goes to war with villages beyond his realm, +he invariably gets out this head, and alone in his grass palace, +contemplates it long and solemnly. At such times the hush of death falls +on the village, and not even a pickaninny dares make a noise. The +head is esteemed the most powerful devil-devil on Malaita, and to the +possession of it is ascribed all of Mauki's greatness. + + + + +"YAH! YAH! YAH!" + +He was a whiskey-guzzling Scotchman, and he downed his whiskey neat, +beginning with his first tot punctually at six in the morning, and +thereafter repeating it at regular intervals throughout the day till +bedtime, which was usually midnight. He slept but five hours out of the +twenty-four, and for the remaining nineteen hours he was quietly and +decently drunk. During the eight weeks I spent with him on Oolong Atoll, +I never saw him draw a sober breath. In fact, his sleep was so short +that he never had time to sober up. It was the most beautiful and +orderly perennial drunk I have ever observed. + +McAllister was his name. He was an old man, and very shaky on his pins. +His hand trembled as with a palsy, especially noticeable when he poured +his whiskey, though I never knew him to spill a drop. He had been +twenty-eight years in Melanesia, ranging from German New Guinea to the +German Solomons, and so thoroughly had he become identified with that +portion of the world, that he habitually spoke in that bastard lingo +called "bech-de-mer." Thus, in conversation with me, SUN HE COME UP +meant sunrise; KAI-KAI HE STOP meant that dinner was served; and BELLY +BELONG ME WALK ABOUT meant that he was sick at his stomach. He was +a small man, and a withered one, burned inside and outside by ardent +spirits and ardent sun. He was a cinder, a bit of a clinker of a man, a +little animated clinker, not yet quite cold, that moved stiffly and by +starts and jerks like an automaton. A gust of wind would have blown him +away. He weighed ninety pounds. + +But the immense thing about him was the power with which he ruled. +Oolong Atoll was one hundred and forty miles in circumference. One +steered by compass course in its lagoon. It was populated by five +thousand Polynesians, all strapping men and women, many of them standing +six feet in height and weighing a couple of hundred pounds. Oolong was +two hundred and fifty miles from the nearest land. Twice a year a +little schooner called to collect copra. The one white man on Oolong was +McAllister, petty trader and unintermittent guzzler; and he ruled Oolong +and its six thousand savages with an iron hand. He said come, and they +came, go, and they went. They never questioned his will nor judgment. +He was cantankerous as only an aged Scotchman can be, and interfered +continually in their personal affairs. When Nugu, the king's daughter, +wanted to marry Haunau from the other end of the atoll, her father said +yes; but McAllister said no, and the marriage never came off. When the +king wanted to buy a certain islet in the lagoon from the chief priest, +McAllister said no. The king was in debt to the Company to the tune of +180,000 cocoanuts, and until that was paid he was not to spend a single +cocoanut on anything else. + +And yet the king and his people did not love McAllister. In truth, they +hated him horribly, and, to my knowledge, the whole population, with the +priests at the head, tried vainly for three months to pray him to death. +The devil-devils they sent after him were awe-inspiring, but since +McAllister did not believe in devil-devils, they were without power over +him. With drunken Scotchmen all signs fail. They gathered up scraps of +food which had touched his lips, an empty whiskey bottle, a cocoanut +from which he had drunk, and even his spittle, and performed all kinds +of deviltries over them. But McAllister lived on. His health was superb. +He never caught fever; nor coughs nor colds; dysentery passed him by; +and the malignant ulcers and vile skin diseases that attack blacks and +whites alike in that climate never fastened upon him. He must have been +so saturated with alcohol as to defy the lodgment of germs. I used to +imagine them falling to the ground in showers of microscopic cinders as +fast as they entered his whiskey-sodden aura. No one loved him, not even +germs, while he loved only whiskey, and still he lived. + +I was puzzled. I could not understand six thousand natives putting up +with that withered shrimp of a tyrant. It was a miracle that he had not +died suddenly long since. Unlike the cowardly Melanesians, the people +were high-stomached and warlike. In the big graveyard, at head and feet +of the graves, were relics of past sanguinary history--blubber-spades, +rusty old bayonets and cutlasses, copper bolts, rudder-irons, harpoons, +bomb guns, bricks that could have come from nowhere but a whaler's +trying-out furnace, and old brass pieces of the sixteenth century that +verified the traditions of the early Spanish navigators. Ship after +ship had come to grief on Oolong. Not thirty years before, the whaler +BLENNERDALE, running into the lagoon for repair, had been cut off with +all hands. In similar fashion had the crew of the GASKET, a sandalwood +trader, perished. There was a big French bark, the TOULON, becalmed off +the atoll, which the islanders boarded after a sharp tussle and wrecked +in the Lipau Passage, the captain and a handful of sailors escaping in +the longboat. Then there were the Spanish pieces, which told of the +loss of one of the early explorers. All this, of the vessels named, is +a matter of history, and is to be found in the SOUTH PACIFIC SAILING +DIRECTORY. But that there was other history, unwritten, I was yet to +learn. In the meantime I puzzled why six thousand primitive savages let +one degenerate Scotch despot live. + +One hot afternoon McAllister and I sat on the veranda looking out over +the lagoon, with all its wonder of jeweled colors. At our backs, across +the hundred yards of palm-studded sand, the outer surf roared on the +reef. It was dreadfully warm. We were in four degree south latitude and +the sun was directly overhead, having crossed the Line a few days before +on its journey south. There was no wind--not even a catspaw. The season +of the southeast trade was drawing to an early close, and the northwest +monsoon had not yet begun to blow. + +"They can't dance worth a damn," said McAllister. + +I had happened to mention that the Polynesian dances were superior to +the Papuan, and this McAllister had denied, for no other reason than +his cantankerousness. But it was too hot to argue, and I said nothing. +Besides, I had never seen the Oolong people dance. + +"I'll prove it to you," he announced, beckoning to the black New Hanover +boy, a labor recruit, who served as cook and general house servant. +"Hey, you, boy, you tell 'm one fella king come along me." + +The boy departed, and back came the prime minister, perturbed, ill at +ease, and garrulous with apologetic explanation. In short, the king +slept, and was not to be disturbed. + +"King he plenty strong fella sleep," was his final sentence. + +McAllister was in such a rage that the prime minister incontinently +fled, to return with the king himself. They were a magnificent pair, +the king especially, who must have been all of six feet three inches in +height. His features had the eagle-like quality that is so frequently +found in those of the North American Indian. He had been molded and born +to rule. His eyes flashed as he listened, but right meekly he obeyed +McAllister's command to fetch a couple of hundred of the best dancers, +male and female, in the village. And dance they did, for two mortal +hours, under that broiling sun. They did not love him for it, and little +he cared, in the end dismissing them with abuse and sneers. + +The abject servility of those magnificent savages was terrifying. How +could it be? What was the secret of his rule? More and more I puzzled +as the days went by, and though I observed perpetual examples of his +undisputed sovereignty, never a clew was there as to how it was. + +One day I happened to speak of my disappointment in failing to trade for +a beautiful pair of orange cowries. The pair was worth five pounds +in Sydney if it was worth a cent. I had offered two hundred sticks +of tobacco to the owner, who had held out for three hundred. When I +casually mentioned the situation, McAllister immediately sent for the +man, took the shells from him, and turned them over to me. Fifty sticks +were all he permitted me to pay for them. The man accepted the tobacco +and seemed overjoyed at getting off so easily. As for me, I resolved to +keep a bridle on my tongue in the future. And still I mulled over the +secret of McAllister's power. I even went to the extent of asking +him directly, but all he did was to cock one eye, look wise, and take +another drink. + +One night I was out fishing in the lagoon with Oti, the man who had +been mulcted of the cowries. Privily, I had made up to him an additional +hundred and fifty sticks, and he had come to regard me with a respect +that was almost veneration, which was curious, seeing that he was an old +man, twice my age at least. + +"What name you fella kanaka all the same pickaninny?" I began on him. +"This fella trader he one fella. You fella kanaka plenty fella too +much. You fella kanaka just like 'm dog--plenty fright along that fella +trader. He no eat you, fella. He no get 'm teeth along him. What name +you too much fright?" + +"S'pose plenty fella kanaka kill 'm?" he asked. + +"He die," I retorted. "You fella kanaka kill 'm plenty fella white man +long time before. What name you fright this fella white man?" + +"Yes, we kill 'm plenty," was his answer. "My word! Any amount! Long +time before. One time, me young fella too much, one big fella ship he +stop outside. Wind he no blow. Plenty fella kanaka we get 'm canoe, +plenty fella canoe, we go catch 'm that fella ship. My word--we catch 'm +big fella fight. Two, three white men shoot like hell. We no fright. +We come alongside, we go up side, plenty fella, maybe I think fifty-ten +(five hundred). One fella white Mary (woman) belong that fella ship. +Never before I see 'm white Mary. Bime by plenty white man finish. One +fella skipper he no die. Five fella, six fella white man no die. Skipper +he sing out. Some fella white man he fight. Some fella white man he +lower away boat. After that, all together over the side they go. Skipper +he sling white Mary down. After that they washee (row) strong fella +plenty too much. Father belong me, that time he strong fella. He throw +'m one fella spear. That fella spear he go in one side that white Mary. +He no stop. My word, he go out other side that fella Mary. She finish. +Me no fright. Plenty kanaka too much no fright." + +Old Oti's pride had been touched, for he suddenly stripped down his +lava-lava and showed me the unmistakable scar of a bullet. Before I +could speak, his line ran out suddenly. He checked it and attempted to +haul in, but found that the fish had run around a coral branch. Casting +a look of reproach at me for having beguiled him from his watchfulness, +he went over the side, feet first, turning over after he got under and +following his line down to bottom. The water was ten fathoms. I leaned +over and watched the play of his feet, growing dim and dimmer, as they +stirred the wan phosphorescence into ghostly fires. Ten fathoms--sixty +feet--it was nothing to him, an old man, compared with the value of a +hook and line. After what seemed five minutes, though it could not have +been more than a minute, I saw him flaming whitely upward. He broke +surface and dropped a ten pound rock cod into the canoe, the line and +hook intact, the latter still fast in the fish's mouth. + +"It may be," I said remorselessly. "You no fright long ago. You plenty +fright now along that fella trader." + +"Yes, plenty fright," he confessed, with an air of dismissing the +subject. For half an hour we pulled up our lines and flung them out in +silence. Then small fish-sharks began to bite, and after losing a hook +apiece, we hauled in and waited for the sharks to go their way. + +"I speak you true," Oti broke into speech, "then you savve we fright +now." + +I lighted up my pipe and waited, and the story that Oti told me in +atrocious bech-de-mer I here turn into proper English. Otherwise, in +spirit and order of narrative, the tale is as it fell from Oti's lips. + +"It was after that that we were very proud. We had fought many times +with the strange white men who live upon the sea, and always we had +beaten them. A few of us were killed, but what was that compared with +the stores of wealth of a thousand thousand kinds that we found on the +ships? And then one day, maybe twenty years ago, or twenty-five, there +came a schooner right through the passage and into the lagoon. It was a +large schooner with three masts. She had five white men and maybe forty +boat's crew, black fellows from New Guinea and New Britain; and she +had come to fish beche-de-mer. She lay at anchor across the lagoon from +here, at Pauloo, and her boats scattered out everywhere, making camps +on the beaches where they cured the beche-de-mer. This made them weak +by dividing them, for those who fished here and those on the schooner at +Pauloo were fifty miles apart, and there were others farther away still. + +"Our king and headmen held council, and I was one in the canoe that +paddled all afternoon and all night across the lagoon, bringing word +to the people of Pauloo that in the morning we would attack the fishing +camps at the one time and that it was for them to take the schooner. We +who brought the word were tired with the paddling, but we took part +in the attack. On the schooner were two white men, the skipper and the +second mate, with half a dozen black boys. The skipper with three boys +we caught on shore and killed, but first eight of us the skipper killed +with his two revolvers. We fought close together, you see, at hand +grapples. + +"The noise of our fighting told the mate what was happening, and he put +food and water and a sail in the small dingy, which was so small that +it was no more than twelve feet long. We came down upon the schooner, a +thousand men, covering the lagoon with our canoes. Also, we were blowing +conch shells, singing war songs, and striking the sides of the canoes +with our paddles. What chance had one white man and three black boys +against us? No chance at all, and the mate knew it. + +"White men are hell. I have watched them much, and I am an old man now, +and I understand at last why the white men have taken to themselves all +the islands in the sea. It is because they are hell. Here are you in +the canoe with me. You are hardly more than a boy. You are not wise, +for each day I tell you many things you do not know. When I was a little +pickaninny, I knew more about fish and the ways of fish than you know +now. I am an old man, but I swim down to the bottom of the lagoon, and +you cannot follow me. What are you good for, anyway? I do not know, +except to fight. I have never seen you fight, yet I know that you are +like your brothers and that you will fight like hell. Also, you are a +fool, like your brothers. You do not know when you are beaten. You will +fight until you die, and then it will be too late to know that you are +beaten. + +"Now behold what this mate did. As we came down upon him, covering the +sea and blowing our conches, he put off from the schooner in the small +boat, along with the three black boys, and rowed for the passage. There +again he was a fool, for no wise man would put out to sea in so small +a boat. The sides of it were not four inches above the water. Twenty +canoes went after him, filled with two hundred young men. We paddled +five fathoms while his black boys were rowing one fathom. He had no +chance, but he was a fool. He stood up in the boat with a rifle, and he +shot many times. He was not a good shot, but as we drew close many of us +were wounded and killed. But still he had no chance. + +"I remember that all the time he was smoking a cigar. When we were forty +feet away and coming fast, he dropped the rifle, lighted a stick of +dynamite with the cigar, and threw it at us. He lighted another and +another, and threw them at us very rapidly, many of them. I know now +that he must have split the ends of the fuses and stuck in match heads, +because they lighted so quickly. Also, the fuses were very short. +Sometimes the dynamite sticks went off in the air, but most of them went +off in the canoes. And each time they went off in a canoe, that canoe +was finished. Of the twenty canoes, the half were smashed to pieces. The +canoe I was in was so smashed, and likewise the two men who sat next +to me. The dynamite fell between them. The other canoes turned and ran +away. Then that mate yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' at us. Also he went at us +again with his rifle, so that many were killed through the back as they +fled away. And all the time the black boys in the boat went on rowing. +You see, I told you true, that mate was hell. + +"Nor was that all. Before he left the schooner, he set her on fire, +and fixed up all the powder and dynamite so that it would go off at one +time. There were hundreds of us on board, trying to put out the fire, +heaving up water from overside, when the schooner blew up. So that all +we had fought for was lost to us, besides many more of us being killed. +Sometimes, even now, in my old age, I have bad dreams in which I hear +that mate yell, Yah! Yah! Yah!' In a voice of thunder he yells, Yah! +Yah! Yah!' But all those in the fishing camps were killed. + +"The mate went out of the passage in his little boat, and that was the +end of him we made sure, for how could so small a boat, with four men in +it, live on the ocean? A month went by, and then, one morning, between +two rain squalls, a schooner sailed in through our passage and dropped +anchor before the village. The king and the headmen made big talk, and +it was agreed that we would take the schooner in two or three days. In +the meantime, as it was our custom always to appear friendly, we went +off to her in canoes, bringing strings of cocoanuts, fowls, and pigs, to +trade. But when we were alongside, many canoes of us, the men on board +began to shoot us with rifles, and as we paddled away I saw the mate who +had gone to sea in the little boat spring upon the rail and dance and +yell, Yah! Yah! Yah!' + +"That afternoon they landed from the schooner in three small boats +filled with white men. They went right through the village, shooting +every man they saw. Also they shot the fowls and pigs. We who were not +killed got away in canoes and paddled out into the lagoon. Looking back, +we could see all the houses on fire. Late in the afternoon we saw many +canoes coming from Nihi, which is the village near the Nihi Passage in +the northeast. They were all that were left, and like us their village +had been burned by a second schooner that had come through Nihi Passage. + +"We stood on in the darkness to the westward for Pauloo, but in the +middle of the night we heard women wailing and then we ran into a big +fleet of canoes. They were all that were left of Pauloo, which likewise +was in ashes, for a third schooner had come in through the Pauloo +Passage. You see, that mate, with his black boys, had not been drowned. +He had made the Solomon Islands, and there told his brothers of what we +had done in Oolong. And all his brothers had said they would come and +punish us, and there they were in the three schooners, and our three +villages were wiped out. + +"And what was there for us to do? In the morning the two schooners from +windward sailed down upon us in the middle of the lagoon. The trade wind +was blowing fresh, and by scores of canoes they ran us down. And the +rifles never ceased talking. We scattered like flying fish before the +bonita, and there were so many of us that we escaped by thousands, this +way and that, to the islands on the rim of the atoll. + +"And thereafter the schooners hunted us up and down the lagoon. In the +nighttime we slipped past them. But the next day, or in two days or +three days, the schooners would be coming back, hunting us toward +the other end of the lagoon. And so it went. We no longer counted nor +remembered our dead. True, we were many and they were few. But what +could we do? I was in one of the twenty canoes filled with men who were +not afraid to die. We attacked the smallest schooner. They shot us down +in heaps. They threw dynamite into the canoes, and when the dynamite +gave out, they threw hot water down upon us. And the rifles never ceased +talking. And those whose canoes were smashed were shot as they swam +away. And the mate danced up and down upon the cabin top and yelled, +'Yah! Yah! Yah!'" + +"Every house on every smallest island was burned. Not a pig nor a fowl +was left alive. Our wells were defiled with the bodies of the slain, or +else heaped high with coral rock. We were twenty-five thousand on Oolong +before the three schooners came. Today we are five thousand. After the +schooners left, we were but three thousand, as you shall see. + +"At last the three schooners grew tired of chasing us back and forth. So +they went, the three of them, to Nihi, in the northeast. And then they +drove us steadily to the west. Their nine boats were in the water as +well. They beat up every island as they moved along. They drove us, +drove us, drove us day by day. And every night the three schooners and +the nine boats made a chain of watchfulness that stretched across the +lagoon from rim to rim, so that we could not escape back. + +"They could not drive us forever that way, for the lagoon was only so +large, and at last all of us that yet lived were driven upon the last +sand bank to the west. Beyond lay the open sea. There were ten thousand +of us, and we covered the sand bank from the lagoon edge to the pounding +surf on the other side. No one could lie down. There was no room. We +stood hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder. Two days they kept us there, +and the mate would climb up in the rigging to mock us and yell, Yah! +Yah! Yah!' till we were well sorry that we had ever harmed him or his +schooner a month before. We had no food, and we stood on our feet two +days and nights. The little babies died, and the old and weak died, +and the wounded died. And worst of all, we had no water to quench our +thirst, and for two days the sun beat down on us, and there was no +shade. Many men and women waded out into the ocean and were drowned, the +surf casting their bodies back on the beach. And there came a pest of +flies. Some men swam to the sides of the schooners, but they were shot +to the last one. And we that lived were very sorry that in our pride we +tried to take the schooner with the three masts that came to fish for +beche-de-mer. + +"On the morning of the third day came the skippers of the three +schooners and that mate in a small boat. They carried rifles, all of +them, and revolvers, and they made talk. It was only that they were +weary of killing us that they had stopped, they told us. And we told +them that we were sorry, that never again would we harm a white man, and +in token of our submission we poured sand upon our heads. And all the +women and children set up a great wailing for water, so that for some +time no man could make himself heard. Then we were told our punishment. +We must fill the three schooners with copra and beche-de-mer. And we +agreed, for we wanted water, and our hearts were broken, and we knew +that we were children at fighting when we fought with white men who +fight like hell. And when all the talk was finished, the mate stood up +and mocked us, and yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' After that we paddled away in +our canoes and sought water. + +"And for weeks we toiled at catching beche-de-mer and curing it, in +gathering the cocoanuts and turning them into copra. By day and night +the smoke rose in clouds from all the beaches of all the islands of +Oolong as we paid the penalty of our wrongdoing. For in those days of +death it was burned clearly on all our brains that it was very wrong to +harm a white man. + +"By and by, the schooners full of copra and beche-de-mer and our trees +empty of cocoanuts, the three skippers and that mate called us all +together for a big talk. And they said they were very glad that we had +learned our lesson, and we said for the ten-thousandth time that we were +sorry and that we would not do it again. Also, we poured sand upon our +heads. Then the skippers said that it was all very well, but just to +show us that they did not forget us, they would send a devil-devil that +we would never forget and that we would always remember any time we +might feel like harming a white man. After that the mate mocked us +one more time and yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' Then six of our men, whom we +thought long dead, were put ashore from one of the schooners, and the +schooners hoisted their sails and ran out through the passage for the +Solomons. + +"The six men who were put ashore were the first to catch the devil-devil +the skippers sent back after us." + +"A great sickness came," I interrupted, for I recognized the trick. +The schooner had had measles on board, and the six prisoners had been +deliberately exposed to it. + +"Yes, a great sickness," Oti went on. "It was a powerful devil-devil. +The oldest man had never heard of the like. Those of our priests that +yet lived we killed because they could not overcome the devil-devil. +The sickness spread. I have said that there were ten thousand of us +that stood hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder on the sandbank. When the +sickness left us, there were three thousand yet alive. Also, having made +all our cocoanuts into copra, there was a famine. + +"That fella trader," Oti concluded, "he like 'm that much dirt. He like +'m clam he die KAI-KAI (meat) he stop, stink 'm any amount. He like 'm +one fella dog, one sick fella dog plenty fleas stop along him. We no +fright along that fella trader. We fright because he white man. We savve +plenty too much no good kill white man. That one fella sick dog trader +he plenty brother stop along him, white men like 'm you fight like hell. +We no fright that damn trader. Some time he made kanaka plenty cross +along him and kanaka want 'm kill m, kanaka he think devil-devil and +kanaka he hear that fella mate sing out, Yah! Yah! Yah!' and kanaka no +kill 'm." + +Oti baited his hook with a piece of squid, which he tore with his teeth +from the live and squirming monster, and hook and bait sank in white +flames to the bottom. + +"Shark walk about he finish," he said. "I think we catch 'm plenty fella +fish." + +His line jerked savagely. He pulled it in rapidly, hand under hand, and +landed a big gasping rock cod in the bottom of the canoe. + +"Sun he come up, I make 'm that dam fella trader one present big fella +fish," said Oti. + + + + +THE HEATHEN + +I met him first in a hurricane; and though we had gone through the +hurricane on the same schooner, it was not until the schooner had gone +to pieces under us that I first laid eyes on him. Without doubt I +had seen him with the rest of the kanaka crew on board, but I had not +consciously been aware of his existence, for the Petite Jeanne was +rather overcrowded. In addition to her eight or ten kanaka seamen, her +white captain, mate, and supercargo, and her six cabin passengers, +she sailed from Rangiroa with something like eighty-five deck +passengers--Paumotans and Tahitians, men, women, and children each with +a trade box, to say nothing of sleeping mats, blankets, and clothes +bundles. + +The pearling season in the Paumotus was over, and all hands were +returning to Tahiti. The six of us cabin passengers were pearl buyers. +Two were Americans, one was Ah Choon (the whitest Chinese I have ever +known), one was a German, one was a Polish Jew, and I completed the half +dozen. + +It had been a prosperous season. Not one of us had cause for complaint, +nor one of the eighty-five deck passengers either. All had done well, +and all were looking forward to a rest-off and a good time in Papeete. + +Of course, the Petite Jeanne was overloaded. She was only seventy tons, +and she had no right to carry a tithe of the mob she had on board. +Beneath her hatches she was crammed and jammed with pearl shell and +copra. Even the trade room was packed full with shell. It was a miracle +that the sailors could work her. There was no moving about the decks. +They simply climbed back and forth along the rails. + +In the night time they walked upon the sleepers, who carpeted the deck, +I'll swear, two deep. Oh! And there were pigs and chickens on deck, and +sacks of yams, while every conceivable place was festooned with strings +of drinking cocoanuts and bunches of bananas. On both sides, between the +fore and main shrouds, guys had been stretched, just low enough for +the foreboom to swing clear; and from each of these guys at least fifty +bunches of bananas were suspended. + +It promised to be a messy passage, even if we did make it in the two +or three days that would have been required if the southeast trades had +been blowing fresh. But they weren't blowing fresh. After the first +five hours the trade died away in a dozen or so gasping fans. The calm +continued all that night and the next day--one of those glaring, glassy, +calms, when the very thought of opening one's eyes to look at it is +sufficient to cause a headache. + +The second day a man died--an Easter Islander, one of the best divers +that season in the lagoon. Smallpox--that is what it was; though how +smallpox could come on board, when there had been no known cases ashore +when we left Rangiroa, is beyond me. There it was, though--smallpox, a +man dead, and three others down on their backs. + +There was nothing to be done. We could not segregate the sick, nor could +we care for them. We were packed like sardines. There was nothing to do +but rot and die--that is, there was nothing to do after the night that +followed the first death. On that night, the mate, the supercargo, the +Polish Jew, and four native divers sneaked away in the large whale boat. +They were never heard of again. In the morning the captain promptly +scuttled the remaining boats, and there we were. + +That day there were two deaths; the following day three; then it +jumped to eight. It was curious to see how we took it. The natives, +for instance, fell into a condition of dumb, stolid fear. The +captain--Oudouse, his name was, a Frenchman--became very nervous and +voluble. He actually got the twitches. He was a large fleshy man, +weighing at least two hundred pounds, and he quickly became a faithful +representation of a quivering jelly-mountain of fat. + +The German, the two Americans, and myself bought up all the Scotch +whiskey, and proceeded to stay drunk. The theory was beautiful--namely, +if we kept ourselves soaked in alcohol, every smallpox germ that came +into contact with us would immediately be scorched to a cinder. And the +theory worked, though I must confess that neither Captain Oudouse nor Ah +Choon were attacked by the disease either. The Frenchman did not drink +at all, while Ah Choon restricted himself to one drink daily. + +It was a pretty time. The sun, going into northern declination, was +straight overhead. There was no wind, except for frequent squalls, which +blew fiercely for from five minutes to half an hour, and wound up by +deluging us with rain. After each squall, the awful sun would come out, +drawing clouds of steam from the soaked decks. + +The steam was not nice. It was the vapor of death, freighted with +millions and millions of germs. We always took another drink when we saw +it going up from the dead and dying, and usually we took two or three +more drinks, mixing them exceptionally stiff. Also, we made it a rule +to take an additional several each time they hove the dead over to the +sharks that swarmed about us. + +We had a week of it, and then the whiskey gave out. It is just as well, +or I shouldn't be alive now. It took a sober man to pull through what +followed, as you will agree when I mention the little fact that only two +men did pull through. The other man was the heathen--at least, that was +what I heard Captain Oudouse call him at the moment I first became aware +of the heathen's existence. But to come back. + +It was at the end of the week, with the whiskey gone, and the pearl +buyers sober, that I happened to glance at the barometer that hung in +the cabin companionway. Its normal register in the Paumotus was 29.90, +and it was quite customary to see it vacillate between 29.85 and 30.00, +or even 30.05; but to see it as I saw it, down to 29.62, was sufficient +to sober the most drunken pearl buyer that ever incinerated smallpox +microbes in Scotch whiskey. + +I called Captain Oudouse's attention to it, only to be informed that he +had watched it going down for several hours. There was little to do, but +that little he did very well, considering the circumstances. He took +off the light sails, shortened right down to storm canvas, spread life +lines, and waited for the wind. His mistake lay in what he did after the +wind came. He hove to on the port tack, which was the right thing to do +south of the Equator, if--and there was the rub--IF one were NOT in the +direct path of the hurricane. + +We were in the direct path. I could see that by the steady increase of +the wind and the equally steady fall of the barometer. I wanted him +to turn and run with the wind on the port quarter until the barometer +ceased falling, and then to heave to. We argued till he was reduced to +hysteria, but budge he would not. The worst of it was that I could not +get the rest of the pearl buyers to back me up. Who was I, anyway, to +know more about the sea and its ways than a properly qualified captain? +was what was in their minds, I knew. + +Of course, the sea rose with the wind frightfully; and I shall never +forget the first three seas the Petite Jeanne shipped. She had fallen +off, as vessels do at times when hove to, and the first sea made a clean +breach. The life lines were only for the strong and well, and little +good were they even for them when the women and children, the bananas +and cocoanuts, the pigs and trade boxes, the sick and the dying, were +swept along in a solid, screeching, groaning mass. + +The second sea filled the Petite Jeanne's decks flush with the rails; +and, as her stern sank down and her bow tossed skyward, all the +miserable dunnage of life and luggage poured aft. It was a human +torrent. They came head first, feet first, sidewise, rolling over and +over, twisting, squirming, writhing, and crumpling up. Now and again +one caught a grip on a stanchion or a rope; but the weight of the bodies +behind tore such grips loose. + +One man I noticed fetch up, head on and square on, with the starboard +bitt. His head cracked like an egg. I saw what was coming, sprang on top +of the cabin, and from there into the mainsail itself. Ah Choon and one +of the Americans tried to follow me, but I was one jump ahead of them. +The American was swept away and over the stern like a piece of chaff. +Ah Choon caught a spoke of the wheel, and swung in behind it. But a +strapping Raratonga vahine (woman)--she must have weighed two hundred +and fifty--brought up against him, and got an arm around his neck. He +clutched the kanaka steersman with his other hand; and just at that +moment the schooner flung down to starboard. + +The rush of bodies and sea that was coming along the port runway between +the cabin and the rail turned abruptly and poured to starboard. Away +they went--vahine, Ah Choon, and steersman; and I swear I saw Ah Choon +grin at me with philosophic resignation as he cleared the rail and went +under. + +The third sea--the biggest of the three--did not do so much damage. By +the time it arrived nearly everybody was in the rigging. On deck perhaps +a dozen gasping, half-drowned, and half-stunned wretches were rolling +about or attempting to crawl into safety. They went by the board, as +did the wreckage of the two remaining boats. The other pearl buyers and +myself, between seas, managed to get about fifteen women and children +into the cabin, and battened down. Little good it did the poor creatures +in the end. + +Wind? Out of all my experience I could not have believed it possible +for the wind to blow as it did. There is no describing it. How can one +describe a nightmare? It was the same way with that wind. It tore the +clothes off our bodies. I say TORE THEM OFF, and I mean it. I am not +asking you to believe it. I am merely telling something that I saw and +felt. There are times when I do not believe it myself. I went through +it, and that is enough. One could not face that wind and live. It was +a monstrous thing, and the most monstrous thing about it was that it +increased and continued to increase. + +Imagine countless millions and billions of tons of sand. Imagine this +sand tearing along at ninety, a hundred, a hundred and twenty, or +any other number of miles per hour. Imagine, further, this sand to be +invisible, impalpable, yet to retain all the weight and density of sand. +Do all this, and you may get a vague inkling of what that wind was like. + +Perhaps sand is not the right comparison. Consider it mud, invisible, +impalpable, but heavy as mud. Nay, it goes beyond that. Consider every +molecule of air to be a mudbank in itself. Then try to imagine the +multitudinous impact of mudbanks. No; it is beyond me. Language may +be adequate to express the ordinary conditions of life, but it cannot +possibly express any of the conditions of so enormous a blast of wind. +It would have been better had I stuck by my original intention of not +attempting a description. + +I will say this much: The sea, which had risen at first, was beaten down +by that wind. More: it seemed as if the whole ocean had been sucked up +in the maw of the hurricane, and hurled on through that portion of space +which previously had been occupied by the air. + +Of course, our canvas had gone long before. But Captain Oudouse had +on the Petite Jeanne something I had never before seen on a South Sea +schooner--a sea anchor. It was a conical canvas bag, the mouth of +which was kept open by a huge loop of iron. The sea anchor was bridled +something like a kite, so that it bit into the water as a kite bites +into the air, but with a difference. The sea anchor remained just under +the surface of the ocean in a perpendicular position. A long line, in +turn, connected it with the schooner. As a result, the Petite Jeanne +rode bow on to the wind and to what sea there was. + +The situation really would have been favorable had we not been in the +path of the storm. True, the wind itself tore our canvas out of the +gaskets, jerked out our topmasts, and made a raffle of our running gear, +but still we would have come through nicely had we not been square in +front of the advancing storm center. That was what fixed us. I was in a +state of stunned, numbed, paralyzed collapse from enduring the impact of +the wind, and I think I was just about ready to give up and die when the +center smote us. The blow we received was an absolute lull. There was +not a breath of air. The effect on one was sickening. + +Remember that for hours we had been at terrific muscular tension, +withstanding the awful pressure of that wind. And then, suddenly, +the pressure was removed. I know that I felt as though I was about +to expand, to fly apart in all directions. It seemed as if every atom +composing my body was repelling every other atom and was on the verge of +rushing off irresistibly into space. But that lasted only for a moment. +Destruction was upon us. + +In the absence of the wind and pressure the sea rose. It jumped, it +leaped, it soared straight toward the clouds. Remember, from every point +of the compass that inconceivable wind was blowing in toward the center +of calm. The result was that the seas sprang up from every point of +the compass. There was no wind to check them. They popped up like corks +released from the bottom of a pail of water. There was no system to +them, no stability. They were hollow, maniacal seas. They were eighty +feet high at the least. They were not seas at all. They resembled no sea +a man had ever seen. + +They were splashes, monstrous splashes--that is all. Splashes that were +eighty feet high. Eighty! They were more than eighty. They went over our +mastheads. They were spouts, explosions. They were drunken. They fell +anywhere, anyhow. They jostled one another; they collided. They rushed +together and collapsed upon one another, or fell apart like a thousand +waterfalls all at once. It was no ocean any man had ever dreamed of, +that hurricane center. It was confusion thrice confounded. It was +anarchy. It was a hell pit of sea water gone mad. + +The Petite Jeanne? I don't know. The heathen told me afterwards that +he did not know. She was literally torn apart, ripped wide open, beaten +into a pulp, smashed into kindling wood, annihilated. When I came to I +was in the water, swimming automatically, though I was about two-thirds +drowned. How I got there I had no recollection. I remembered seeing the +Petite Jeanne fly to pieces at what must have been the instant that my +own consciousness was buffeted out of me. But there I was, with nothing +to do but make the best of it, and in that best there was little +promise. The wind was blowing again, the sea was much smaller and more +regular, and I knew that I had passed through the center. Fortunately, +there were no sharks about. The hurricane had dissipated the ravenous +horde that had surrounded the death ship and fed off the dead. + +It was about midday when the Petite Jeanne went to pieces, and it must +have been two hours afterwards when I picked up with one of her hatch +covers. Thick rain was driving at the time; and it was the merest chance +that flung me and the hatch cover together. A short length of line was +trailing from the rope handle; and I knew that I was good for a day, +at least, if the sharks did not return. Three hours later, possibly +a little longer, sticking close to the cover, and with closed eyes, +concentrating my whole soul upon the task of breathing in enough air to +keep me going and at the same time of avoiding breathing in enough water +to drown me, it seemed to me that I heard voices. The rain had ceased, +and wind and sea were easing marvelously. Not twenty feet away from me, +on another hatch cover were Captain Oudouse and the heathen. They were +fighting over the possession of the cover--at least, the Frenchman was. +"Paien noir!" I heard him scream, and at the same time I saw him kick +the kanaka. + +Now, Captain Oudouse had lost all his clothes, except his shoes, and +they were heavy brogans. It was a cruel blow, for it caught the heathen +on the mouth and the point of the chin, half stunning him. I looked for +him to retaliate, but he contented himself with swimming about forlornly +a safe ten feet away. Whenever a fling of the sea threw him closer, the +Frenchman, hanging on with his hands, kicked out at him with both feet. +Also, at the moment of delivering each kick, he called the kanaka a +black heathen. + +"For two centimes I'd come over there and drown you, you white beast!" I +yelled. + +The only reason I did not go was that I felt too tired. The very thought +of the effort to swim over was nauseating. So I called to the kanaka to +come to me, and proceeded to share the hatch cover with him. Otoo, he +told me his name was (pronounced o-to-o ); also, he told me that he +was a native of Bora Bora, the most westerly of the Society Group. As +I learned afterward, he had got the hatch cover first, and, after some +time, encountering Captain Oudouse, had offered to share it with him, +and had been kicked off for his pains. + +And that was how Otoo and I first came together. He was no fighter. +He was all sweetness and gentleness, a love creature, though he stood +nearly six feet tall and was muscled like a gladiator. He was no +fighter, but he was also no coward. He had the heart of a lion; and in +the years that followed I have seen him run risks that I would never +dream of taking. What I mean is that while he was no fighter, and while +he always avoided precipitating a row, he never ran away from trouble +when it started. And it was "Ware shoal!" when once Otoo went into +action. I shall never forget what he did to Bill King. It occurred +in German Samoa. Bill King was hailed the champion heavyweight of the +American Navy. He was a big brute of a man, a veritable gorilla, one of +those hard-hitting, rough-housing chaps, and clever with his fists as +well. He picked the quarrel, and he kicked Otoo twice and struck him +once before Otoo felt it to be necessary to fight. I don't think it +lasted four minutes, at the end of which time Bill King was the unhappy +possessor of four broken ribs, a broken forearm, and a dislocated +shoulder blade. Otoo knew nothing of scientific boxing. He was merely a +manhandler; and Bill King was something like three months in recovering +from the bit of manhandling he received that afternoon on Apia beach. + +But I am running ahead of my yarn. We shared the hatch cover between us. +We took turn and turn about, one lying flat on the cover and resting, +while the other, submerged to the neck, merely held on with his hands. +For two days and nights, spell and spell, on the cover and in the water, +we drifted over the ocean. Towards the last I was delirious most of the +time; and there were times, too, when I heard Otoo babbling and raving +in his native tongue. Our continuous immersion prevented us from dying +of thirst, though the sea water and the sunshine gave us the prettiest +imaginable combination of salt pickle and sunburn. + +In the end, Otoo saved my life; for I came to lying on the beach twenty +feet from the water, sheltered from the sun by a couple of cocoanut +leaves. No one but Otoo could have dragged me there and stuck up the +leaves for shade. He was lying beside me. I went off again; and the next +time I came round, it was cool and starry night, and Otoo was pressing a +drinking cocoanut to my lips. + +We were the sole survivors of the Petite Jeanne. Captain Oudouse must +have succumbed to exhaustion, for several days later his hatch cover +drifted ashore without him. Otoo and I lived with the natives of the +atoll for a week, when we were rescued by the French cruiser and taken +to Tahiti. In the meantime, however, we had performed the ceremony of +exchanging names. In the South Seas such a ceremony binds two men closer +together than blood brothership. The initiative had been mine; and Otoo +was rapturously delighted when I suggested it. + +"It is well," he said, in Tahitian. "For we have been mates together for +two days on the lips of Death." + +"But death stuttered," I smiled. + +"It was a brave deed you did, master," he replied, "and Death was not +vile enough to speak." + +"Why do you 'master' me?" I demanded, with a show of hurt feelings. +"We have exchanged names. To you I am Otoo. To me you are Charley. And +between you and me, forever and forever, you shall be Charley, and I +shall be Otoo. It is the way of the custom. And when we die, if it does +happen that we live again somewhere beyond the stars and the sky, still +shall you be Charley to me, and I Otoo to you." + +"Yes, master," he answered, his eyes luminous and soft with joy. + +"There you go!" I cried indignantly. + +"What does it matter what my lips utter?" he argued. "They are only my +lips. But I shall think Otoo always. Whenever I think of myself, I shall +think of you. Whenever men call me by name, I shall think of you. And +beyond the sky and beyond the stars, always and forever, you shall be +Otoo to me. Is it well, master?" + +I hid my smile, and answered that it was well. + +We parted at Papeete. I remained ashore to recuperate; and he went on +in a cutter to his own island, Bora Bora. Six weeks later he was back. +I was surprised, for he had told me of his wife, and said that he was +returning to her, and would give over sailing on far voyages. + +"Where do you go, master?" he asked, after our first greetings. + +I shrugged my shoulders. It was a hard question. + +"All the world," was my answer--"all the world, all the sea, and all the +islands that are in the sea." + +"I will go with you," he said simply. "My wife is dead." + +I never had a brother; but from what I have seen of other men's +brothers, I doubt if any man ever had a brother that was to him what +Otoo was to me. He was brother and father and mother as well. And this +I know: I lived a straighter and better man because of Otoo. I cared +little for other men, but I had to live straight in Otoo's eyes. Because +of him I dared not tarnish myself. He made me his ideal, compounding +me, I fear, chiefly out of his own love and worship and there were times +when I stood close to the steep pitch of hell, and would have taken +the plunge had not the thought of Otoo restrained me. His pride in me +entered into me, until it became one of the major rules in my personal +code to do nothing that would diminish that pride of his. + +Naturally, I did not learn right away what his feelings were toward me. +He never criticized, never censured; and slowly the exalted place I held +in his eyes dawned upon me, and slowly I grew to comprehend the hurt I +could inflict upon him by being anything less than my best. + +For seventeen years we were together; for seventeen years he was at +my shoulder, watching while I slept, nursing me through fever and +wounds--ay, and receiving wounds in fighting for me. He signed on the +same ships with me; and together we ranged the Pacific from Hawaii to +Sydney Head, and from Torres Straits to the Galapagos. We blackbirded +from the New Hebrides and the Line Islands over to the westward clear +through the Louisades, New Britain, New Ireland, and New Hanover. We +were wrecked three times--in the Gilberts, in the Santa Cruz group, and +in the Fijis. And we traded and salved wherever a dollar promised in +the way of pearl and pearl shell, copra, beche-de-mer, hawkbill turtle +shell, and stranded wrecks. + +It began in Papeete, immediately after his announcement that he was +going with me over all the sea, and the islands in the midst thereof. +There was a club in those days in Papeete, where the pearlers, traders, +captains, and riffraff of South Sea adventurers forgathered. The play +ran high, and the drink ran high; and I am very much afraid that I kept +later hours than were becoming or proper. No matter what the hour was +when I left the club, there was Otoo waiting to see me safely home. + +At first I smiled; next I chided him. Then I told him flatly that I +stood in need of no wet-nursing. After that I did not see him when +I came out of the club. Quite by accident, a week or so later, I +discovered that he still saw me home, lurking across the street among +the shadows of the mango trees. What could I do? I know what I did do. + +Insensibly I began to keep better hours. On wet and stormy nights, in +the thick of the folly and the fun, the thought would persist in coming +to me of Otoo keeping his dreary vigil under the dripping mangoes. +Truly, he made a better man of me. Yet he was not strait-laced. And he +knew nothing of common Christian morality. All the people on Bora +Bora were Christians; but he was a heathen, the only unbeliever on the +island, a gross materialist, who believed that when he died he was dead. +He believed merely in fair play and square dealing. Petty meanness, in +his code, was almost as serious as wanton homicide; and I do believe +that he respected a murderer more than a man given to small practices. + +Concerning me, personally, he objected to my doing anything that was +hurtful to me. Gambling was all right. He was an ardent gambler himself. +But late hours, he explained, were bad for one's health. He had seen men +who did not take care of themselves die of fever. He was no teetotaler, +and welcomed a stiff nip any time when it was wet work in the boats. On +the other hand, he believed in liquor in moderation. He had seen many +men killed or disgraced by square-face or Scotch. + +Otoo had my welfare always at heart. He thought ahead for me, weighed my +plans, and took a greater interest in them than I did myself. At first, +when I was unaware of this interest of his in my affairs, he had to +divine my intentions, as, for instance, at Papeete, when I contemplated +going partners with a knavish fellow-countryman on a guano venture. I +did not know he was a knave. Nor did any white man in Papeete. Neither +did Otoo know, but he saw how thick we were getting, and found out for +me, and without my asking him. Native sailors from the ends of the seas +knock about on the beach in Tahiti; and Otoo, suspicious merely, +went among them till he had gathered sufficient data to justify his +suspicions. Oh, it was a nice history, that of Randolph Waters. I +couldn't believe it when Otoo first narrated it; but when I sheeted it +home to Waters he gave in without a murmur, and got away on the first +steamer to Aukland. + +At first, I am free to confess, I couldn't help resenting Otoo's poking +his nose into my business. But I knew that he was wholly unselfish; and +soon I had to acknowledge his wisdom and discretion. He had his +eyes open always to my main chance, and he was both keen-sighted and +far-sighted. In time he became my counselor, until he knew more of my +business than I did myself. He really had my interest at heart more than +I did. Mine was the magnificent carelessness of youth, for I preferred +romance to dollars, and adventure to a comfortable billet with all night +in. So it was well that I had some one to look out for me. I know that +if it had not been for Otoo, I should not be here today. + +Of numerous instances, let me give one. I had had some experience in +blackbirding before I went pearling in the Paumotus. Otoo and I were on +the beach in Samoa--we really were on the beach and hard aground--when +my chance came to go as recruiter on a blackbird brig. Otoo signed on +before the mast; and for the next half-dozen years, in as many ships, we +knocked about the wildest portions of Melanesia. Otoo saw to it that he +always pulled stroke-oar in my boat. Our custom in recruiting labor was +to land the recruiter on the beach. The covering boat always lay on its +oars several hundred feet off shore, while the recruiter's boat, also +lying on its oars, kept afloat on the edge of the beach. When I landed +with my trade goods, leaving my steering sweep apeak, Otoo left his +stroke position and came into the stern sheets, where a Winchester lay +ready to hand under a flap of canvas. The boat's crew was also armed, +the Sniders concealed under canvas flaps that ran the length of the +gunwales. + +While I was busy arguing and persuading the woolly-headed cannibals to +come and labor on the Queensland plantations Otoo kept watch. And often +and often his low voice warned me of suspicious actions and impending +treachery. Sometimes it was the quick shot from his rifle, knocking a +nigger over, that was the first warning I received. And in my rush to +the boat his hand was always there to jerk me flying aboard. Once, I +remember, on SANTA ANNA, the boat grounded just as the trouble began. +The covering boat was dashing to our assistance, but the several score +of savages would have wiped us out before it arrived. Otoo took a flying +leap ashore, dug both hands into the trade goods, and scattered tobacco, +beads, tomahawks, knives, and calicoes in all directions. + +This was too much for the woolly-heads. While they scrambled for the +treasures, the boat was shoved clear, and we were aboard and forty feet +away. And I got thirty recruits off that very beach in the next four +hours. + +The particular instance I have in mind was on Malaita, the most savage +island in the easterly Solomons. The natives had been remarkably +friendly; and how were we to know that the whole village had been taking +up a collection for over two years with which to buy a white man's head? +The beggars are all head-hunters, and they especially esteem a white +man's head. The fellow who captured the head would receive the whole +collection. As I say, they appeared very friendly; and on this day I was +fully a hundred yards down the beach from the boat. Otoo had cautioned +me; and, as usual when I did not heed him, I came to grief. + +The first I knew, a cloud of spears sailed out of the mangrove swamp +at me. At least a dozen were sticking into me. I started to run, +but tripped over one that was fast in my calf, and went down. The +woolly-heads made a run for me, each with a long-handled, fantail +tomahawk with which to hack off my head. They were so eager for the +prize that they got in one another's way. In the confusion, I avoided +several hacks by throwing myself right and left on the sand. + +Then Otoo arrived--Otoo the manhandler. In some way he had got hold of a +heavy war club, and at close quarters it was a far more efficient weapon +than a rifle. He was right in the thick of them, so that they could +not spear him, while their tomahawks seemed worse than useless. He was +fighting for me, and he was in a true Berserker rage. The way he handled +that club was amazing. + +Their skulls squashed like overripe oranges. It was not until he had +driven them back, picked me up in his arms, and started to run, that +he received his first wounds. He arrived in the boat with four spear +thrusts, got his Winchester, and with it got a man for every shot. Then +we pulled aboard the schooner, and doctored up. + +Seventeen years we were together. He made me. I should today be a +supercargo, a recruiter, or a memory, if it had not been for him. + +"You spend your money, and you go out and get more," he said one day. +"It is easy to get money now. But when you get old, your money will be +spent, and you will not be able to go out and get more. I know, master. +I have studied the way of white men. On the beaches are many old men +who were young once, and who could get money just like you. Now they are +old, and they have nothing, and they wait about for the young men like +you to come ashore and buy drinks for them. + +"The black boy is a slave on the plantations. He gets twenty dollars a +year. He works hard. The overseer does not work hard. He rides a horse +and watches the black boy work. He gets twelve hundred dollars a year. +I am a sailor on the schooner. I get fifteen dollars a month. That +is because I am a good sailor. I work hard. The captain has a double +awning, and drinks beer out of long bottles. I have never seen him haul +a rope or pull an oar. He gets one hundred and fifty dollars a month. +I am a sailor. He is a navigator. Master, I think it would be very good +for you to know navigation." + +Otoo spurred me on to it. He sailed with me as second mate on my first +schooner, and he was far prouder of my command than I was myself. Later +on it was: + +"The captain is well paid, master; but the ship is in his keeping, +and he is never free from the burden. It is the owner who is better +paid--the owner who sits ashore with many servants and turns his money +over." + +"True, but a schooner costs five thousand dollars--an old schooner at +that," I objected. "I should be an old man before I saved five thousand +dollars." + +"There be short ways for white men to make money," he went on, pointing +ashore at the cocoanut-fringed beach. + +We were in the Solomons at the time, picking up a cargo of ivory nuts +along the east coast of Guadalcanar. + +"Between this river mouth and the next it is two miles," he said. + +"The flat land runs far back. It is worth nothing now. Next year--who +knows?--or the year after, men will pay much money for that land. The +anchorage is good. Big steamers can lie close up. You can buy the land +four miles deep from the old chief for ten thousand sticks of tobacco, +ten bottles of square-face, and a Snider, which will cost you, maybe, +one hundred dollars. Then you place the deed with the commissioner; and +the next year, or the year after, you sell and become the owner of a +ship." + +I followed his lead, and his words came true, though in three years, +instead of two. Next came the grasslands deal on Guadalcanar--twenty +thousand acres, on a governmental nine hundred and ninety-nine years' +lease at a nominal sum. I owned the lease for precisely ninety days, +when I sold it to a company for half a fortune. Always it was Otoo who +looked ahead and saw the opportunity. He was responsible for the +salving of the Doncaster--bought in at auction for a hundred pounds, and +clearing three thousand after every expense was paid. He led me into the +Savaii plantation and the cocoa venture on Upolu. + +We did not go seafaring so much as in the old days. I was too well off. +I married, and my standard of living rose; but Otoo remained the same +old-time Otoo, moving about the house or trailing through the office, +his wooden pipe in his mouth, a shilling undershirt on his back, and a +four-shilling lava-lava about his loins. I could not get him to spend +money. There was no way of repaying him except with love, and God knows +he got that in full measure from all of us. The children worshipped +him; and if he had been spoilable, my wife would surely have been his +undoing. + +The children! He really was the one who showed them the way of their +feet in the world practical. He began by teaching them to walk. He sat +up with them when they were sick. One by one, when they were scarcely +toddlers, he took them down to the lagoon, and made them into +amphibians. He taught them more than I ever knew of the habits of fish +and the ways of catching them. In the bush it was the same thing. At +seven, Tom knew more woodcraft than I ever dreamed existed. At six, Mary +went over the Sliding Rock without a quiver, and I have seen strong men +balk at that feat. And when Frank had just turned six he could bring up +shillings from the bottom in three fathoms. + +"My people in Bora Bora do not like heathen--they are all Christians; +and I do not like Bora Bora Christians," he said one day, when I, with +the idea of getting him to spend some of the money that was rightfully +his, had been trying to persuade him to make a visit to his own island +in one of our schooners--a special voyage which I had hoped to make a +record breaker in the matter of prodigal expense. + +I say one of OUR schooners, though legally at the time they belonged to +me. I struggled long with him to enter into partnership. + +"We have been partners from the day the Petite Jeanne went down," +he said at last. "But if your heart so wishes, then shall we become +partners by the law. I have no work to do, yet are my expenses large. I +drink and eat and smoke in plenty--it costs much, I know. I do not pay +for the playing of billiards, for I play on your table; but still the +money goes. Fishing on the reef is only a rich man's pleasure. It is +shocking, the cost of hooks and cotton line. Yes; it is necessary that +we be partners by the law. I need the money. I shall get it from the +head clerk in the office." + +So the papers were made out and recorded. A year later I was compelled +to complain. + +"Charley," said I, "you are a wicked old fraud, a miserly skinflint, +a miserable land crab. Behold, your share for the year in all our +partnership has been thousands of dollars. The head clerk has given me +this paper. It says that in the year you have drawn just eighty-seven +dollars and twenty cents." + +"Is there any owing me?" he asked anxiously. + +"I tell you thousands and thousands," I answered. + +His face brightened, as with an immense relief. + +"It is well," he said. "See that the head clerk keeps good account +of it. When I want it, I shall want it, and there must not be a cent +missing. + +"If there is," he added fiercely, after a pause, "it must come out of +the clerk's wages." + +And all the time, as I afterwards learned, his will, drawn up by +Carruthers, and making me sole beneficiary, lay in the American consul's +safe. + +But the end came, as the end must come to all human associations. + +It occurred in the Solomons, where our wildest work had been done in the +wild young days, and where we were once more--principally on a holiday, +incidentally to look after our holdings on Florida Island and to look +over the pearling possibilities of the Mboli Pass. We were lying at +Savo, having run in to trade for curios. + +Now, Savo is alive with sharks. The custom of the woolly-heads of +burying their dead in the sea did not tend to discourage the sharks from +making the adjacent waters a hangout. It was my luck to be coming aboard +in a tiny, overloaded, native canoe, when the thing capsized. There +were four woolly-heads and myself in it, or rather, hanging to it. The +schooner was a hundred yards away. + +I was just hailing for a boat when one of the woolly-heads began to +scream. Holding on to the end of the canoe, both he and that portion of +the canoe were dragged under several times. Then he loosed his clutch +and disappeared. A shark had got him. + +The three remaining niggers tried to climb out of the water upon the +bottom of the canoe. I yelled and cursed and struck at the nearest with +my fist, but it was no use. They were in a blind funk. The canoe could +barely have supported one of them. Under the three it upended and rolled +sidewise, throwing them back into the water. + +I abandoned the canoe and started to swim toward the schooner, expecting +to be picked up by the boat before I got there. One of the niggers +elected to come with me, and we swam along silently, side by side, now +and again putting our faces into the water and peering about for sharks. +The screams of the man who stayed by the canoe informed us that he was +taken. I was peering into the water when I saw a big shark pass directly +beneath me. He was fully sixteen feet in length. I saw the whole thing. +He got the woolly-head by the middle, and away he went, the poor devil, +head, shoulders, and arms out of the water all the time, screeching in +a heart-rending way. He was carried along in this fashion for several +hundred feet, when he was dragged beneath the surface. + +I swam doggedly on, hoping that that was the last unattached shark. +But there was another. Whether it was one that had attacked the natives +earlier, or whether it was one that had made a good meal elsewhere, I do +not know. At any rate, he was not in such haste as the others. I could +not swim so rapidly now, for a large part of my effort was devoted to +keeping track of him. I was watching him when he made his first attack. +By good luck I got both hands on his nose, and, though his momentum +nearly shoved me under, I managed to keep him off. He veered clear, +and began circling about again. A second time I escaped him by the same +manoeuvre. The third rush was a miss on both sides. He sheered at the +moment my hands should have landed on his nose, but his sandpaper hide +(I had on a sleeveless undershirt) scraped the skin off one arm from +elbow to shoulder. + +By this time I was played out, and gave up hope. The schooner was still +two hundred feet away. My face was in the water, and I was watching him +manoeuvre for another attempt, when I saw a brown body pass between us. +It was Otoo. + +"Swim for the schooner, master!" he said. And he spoke gayly, as though +the affair was a mere lark. "I know sharks. The shark is my brother." + +I obeyed, swimming slowly on, while Otoo swam about me, keeping always +between me and the shark, foiling his rushes and encouraging me. + +"The davit tackle carried away, and they are rigging the falls," he +explained, a minute or so later, and then went under to head off another +attack. + +By the time the schooner was thirty feet away I was about done for. I +could scarcely move. They were heaving lines at us from on board, but +they continually fell short. The shark, finding that it was receiving no +hurt, had become bolder. Several times it nearly got me, but each time +Otoo was there just the moment before it was too late. Of course, Otoo +could have saved himself any time. But he stuck by me. + +"Good-by, Charley! I'm finished!" I just managed to gasp. + +I knew that the end had come, and that the next moment I should throw up +my hands and go down. + +But Otoo laughed in my face, saying: + +"I will show you a new trick. I will make that shark feel sick!" + +He dropped in behind me, where the shark was preparing to come at me. + +"A little more to the left!" he next called out. "There is a line there +on the water. To the left, master--to the left!" + +I changed my course and struck out blindly. I was by that time barely +conscious. As my hand closed on the line I heard an exclamation from on +board. I turned and looked. There was no sign of Otoo. The next instant +he broke surface. Both hands were off at the wrist, the stumps spouting +blood. + +"Otoo!" he called softly. And I could see in his gaze the love that +thrilled in his voice. + +Then, and then only, at the very last of all our years, he called me by +that name. + +"Good-by, Otoo!" he called. + +Then he was dragged under, and I was hauled aboard, where I fainted in +the captain's arms. + +And so passed Otoo, who saved me and made me a man, and who saved me in +the end. We met in the maw of a hurricane, and parted in the maw of +a shark, with seventeen intervening years of comradeship, the like of +which I dare to assert has never befallen two men, the one brown and the +other white. If Jehovah be from His high place watching every sparrow +fall, not least in His kingdom shall be Otoo, the one heathen of Bora +Bora. + + + + +THE TERRIBLE SOLOMONS + +There is no gainsaying that the Solomons are a hard-bitten bunch of +islands. On the other hand, there are worse places in the world. But to +the new chum who has no constitutional understanding of men and life in +the rough, the Solomons may indeed prove terrible. + +It is true that fever and dysentery are perpetually on the walk-about, +that loathsome skin diseases abound, that the air is saturated with a +poison that bites into every pore, cut, or abrasion and plants malignant +ulcers, and that many strong men who escape dying there return as wrecks +to their own countries. It is also true that the natives of the Solomons +are a wild lot, with a hearty appetite for human flesh and a fad for +collecting human heads. Their highest instinct of sportsmanship is to +catch a man with his back turned and to smite him a cunning blow with a +tomahawk that severs the spinal column at the base of the brain. It is +equally true that on some islands, such as Malaita, the profit and loss +account of social intercourse is calculated in homicides. Heads are a +medium of exchange, and white heads are extremely valuable. Very often a +dozen villages make a jack-pot, which they fatten moon by moon, against +the time when some brave warrior presents a white man's head, fresh and +gory, and claims the pot. + +All the foregoing is quite true, and yet there are white men who have +lived in the Solomons a score of years and who feel homesick when they +go away from them. A man needs only to be careful--and lucky--to live +a long time in the Solomons; but he must also be of the right sort. +He must have the hallmark of the inevitable white man stamped upon his +soul. He must be inevitable. He must have a certain grand carelessness +of odds, a certain colossal self-satisfaction, and a racial egotism that +convinces him that one white is better than a thousand niggers every +day in the week, and that on Sunday he is able to clean out two +thousand niggers. For such are the things that have made the white man +inevitable. Oh, and one other thing--the white man who wishes to be +inevitable, must not merely despise the lesser breeds and think a lot +of himself; he must also fail to be too long on imagination. He must not +understand too well the instincts, customs, and mental processes of the +blacks, the yellows, and the browns; for it is not in such fashion that +the white race has tramped its royal road around the world. + +Bertie Arkwright was not inevitable. He was too sensitive, too finely +strung, and he possessed too much imagination. The world was too much +with him. He projected himself too quiveringly into his environment. +Therefore, the last place in the world for him to come was the Solomons. +He did not come, expecting to stay. A five weeks' stop-over between +steamers, he decided, would satisfy the call of the primitive he felt +thrumming the strings of his being. At least, so he told the lady +tourists on the MAKEMBO, though in different terms; and they worshipped +him as a hero, for they were lady tourists and they would know only +the safety of the steamer's deck as she threaded her way through the +Solomons. + +There was another man on board, of whom the ladies took no notice. He +was a little shriveled wisp of a man, with a withered skin the color of +mahogany. His name on the passenger list does not matter, but his other +name, Captain Malu, was a name for niggers to conjure with, and to +scare naughty pickaninnies to righteousness from New Hanover to the +New Hebrides. He had farmed savages and savagery, and from fever and +hardship, the crack of Sniders and the lash of the overseers, had +wrested five millions of money in the form of bche-de-mer, sandalwood, +pearl-shell and turtle-shell, ivory nuts and copra, grasslands, trading +stations, and plantations. Captain Malu's little finger, which was +broken, had more inevitableness in it than Bertie Arkwright's whole +carcass. But then, the lady tourists had nothing by which to judge save +appearances, and Bertie certainly was a fine-looking man. + +Bertie talked with Captain Malu in the smoking room, confiding to him +his intention of seeing life red and bleeding in the Solomons. Captain +Malu agreed that the intention was ambitious and honorable. It was not +until several days later that he became interested in Bertie, when that +young adventurer insisted on showing him an automatic 44-caliber pistol. +Bertie explained the mechanism and demonstrated by slipping a loaded +magazine up the hollow butt. + +"It is so simple," he said. He shot the outer barrel back along the +inner one. "That loads it and cocks it, you see. And then all I have to +do is pull the trigger, eight times, as fast as I can quiver my finger. +See that safety clutch. That's what I like about it. It is safe. It is +positively fool-proof." He slipped out the magazine. "You see how safe +it is." + +As he held it in his hand, the muzzle came in line with Captain Malu's +stomach. Captain Malu's blue eyes looked at it unswervingly. + +"Would you mind pointing it in some other direction?" he asked. + +"It's perfectly safe," Bertie assured him. "I withdrew the magazine. +It's not loaded now, you know." + +"A gun is always loaded." + +"But this one isn't." + +"Turn it away just the same." + +Captain Malu's voice was flat and metallic and low, but his eyes never +left the muzzle until the line of it was drawn past him and away from +him. + +"I'll bet a fiver it isn't loaded," Bertie proposed warmly. + +The other shook his head. + +"Then I'll show you." + +Bertie started to put the muzzle to his own temple with the evident +intention of pulling the trigger. + +"Just a second," Captain Malu said quietly, reaching out his hand. "Let +me look at it." + +He pointed it seaward and pulled the trigger. A heavy explosion +followed, instantaneous with the sharp click of the mechanism that +flipped a hot and smoking cartridge sidewise along the deck. + +Bertie's jaw dropped in amazement. + +"I slipped the barrel back once, didn't I?" he explained. "It was silly +of me, I must say." + +He giggled flabbily, and sat down in a steamer chair. The blood had +ebbed from his face, exposing dark circles under his eyes. His hands +were trembling and unable to guide the shaking cigarette to his lips. +The world was too much with him, and he saw himself with dripping brains +prone upon the deck. + +"Really," he said, "... really." + +"It's a pretty weapon," said Captain Malu, returning the automatic to +him. + +The Commissioner was on board the Makembo, returning from Sydney, and by +his permission a stop was made at Ugi to land a missionary. And at Ugi +lay the ketch ARLA, Captain Hansen, skipper. Now the Arla was one of +many vessels owned by Captain Malu, and it was at his suggestion and +by his invitation that Bertie went aboard the Arla as guest for a four +days' recruiting cruise on the coast of Malaita. Thereafter the ARLA +would drop him at Reminge Plantation (also owned by Captain Malu), where +Bertie could remain for a week, and then be sent over to Tulagi, the +seat of government, where he would become the Commissioner's guest. +Captain Malu was responsible for two other suggestions, which given, he +disappears from this narrative. One was to Captain Hansen, the other +to Mr. Harriwell, manager of Reminge Plantation. Both suggestions were +similar in tenor, namely, to give Mr. Bertram Arkwright an insight into +the rawness and redness of life in the Solomons. Also, it is whispered +that Captain Malu mentioned that a case of Scotch would be +coincidental with any particularly gorgeous insight Mr. Arkwright might +receive............. + +"Yes, Swartz always was too pig-headed. You see, he took four of his +boat's crew to Tulagi to be flogged--officially, you know--then started +back with them in the whaleboat. It was pretty squally, and the boat +capsized just outside. Swartz was the only one drowned. Of course, it +was an accident." + +"Was it? Really?" Bertie asked, only half-interested, staring hard at +the black man at the wheel. + +Ugi had dropped astern, and the ARLA was sliding along through a summer +sea toward the wooded ranges of Malaita. The helmsman who so attracted +Bertie's eyes sported a ten penny nail, stuck skewerwise through his +nose. About his neck was a string of pants buttons. Thrust through holes +in his ears were a can opener, the broken handle of a toothbrush, a clay +pipe, the brass wheel of an alarm clock, and several Winchester rifle +cartridges. + +On his chest, suspended from around his neck hung the half of a china +plate. Some forty similarly appareled blacks lay about the deck, fifteen +of which were boat's crew, the remainder being fresh labor recruits. + +"Of course it was an accident," spoke up the ARLA'S mate, Jacobs, +a slender, dark-eyed man who looked more a professor than a sailor. +"Johnny Bedip nearly had the same kind of accident. He was bringing back +several from a flogging, when they capsized him. But he knew how to swim +as well as they, and two of them were drowned. He used a boat stretcher +and a revolver. Of course it was an accident." + +"Quite common, them accidents," remarked the skipper. "You see that man +at the wheel, Mr. Arkwright? He's a man eater. Six months ago, he and +the rest of the boat's crew drowned the then captain of the ARLA. They +did it on deck, sir, right aft there by the mizzen-traveler." + +"The deck was in a shocking state," said the mate. + +"Do I understand--?" Bertie began. + +"Yes, just that," said Captain Hansen. "It was an accidental drowning." + +"But on deck--?" + +"Just so. I don't mind telling you, in confidence, of course, that they +used an axe." + +"This present crew of yours?" + +Captain Hansen nodded. + +"The other skipper always was too careless," explained the mate. "He but +just turned his back, when they let him have it." + +"We haven't any show down here," was the skipper's complaint. "The +government protects a nigger against a white every time. You can't shoot +first. You've got to give the nigger first shot, or else the government +calls it murder and you go to Fiji. That's why there's so many drowning +accidents." + +Dinner was called, and Bertie and the skipper went below, leaving the +mate to watch on deck. + +"Keep an eye out for that black devil, Auiki," was the skipper's parting +caution. "I haven't liked his looks for several days." + +"Right O," said the mate. + +Dinner was part way along, and the skipper was in the middle of his +story of the cutting out of the Scottish Chiefs. + +"Yes," he was saying, "she was the finest vessel on the coast. But when +she missed stays, and before ever she hit the reef, the canoes started +for her. There were five white men, a crew of twenty Santa Cruz boys +and Samoans, and only the supercargo escaped. Besides, there were sixty +recruits. They were all kai-kai'd. Kai-kai?--oh, I beg your pardon. +I mean they were eaten. Then there was the James Edwards, a +dandy-rigged--" + +But at that moment there was a sharp oath from the mate on deck and a +chorus of savage cries. A revolver went off three times, and then was +heard a loud splash. Captain Hansen had sprung up the companionway on +the instant, and Bertie's eyes had been fascinated by a glimpse of him +drawing his revolver as he sprang. + +Bertie went up more circumspectly, hesitating before he put his head +above the companionway slide. But nothing happened. The mate was +shaking with excitement, his revolver in his hand. Once he startled, and +half-jumped around, as if danger threatened his back. + +"One of the natives fell overboard," he was saying, in a queer tense +voice. "He couldn't swim." + +"Who was it?" the skipper demanded. + +"Auiki," was the answer. + +"But I say, you know, I heard shots," Bertie said, in trembling +eagerness, for he scented adventure, and adventure that was happily over +with. + +The mate whirled upon him, snarling: + +"It's a damned lie. There ain't been a shot fired. The nigger fell +overboard." + +Captain Hansen regarded Bertie with unblinking, lack-luster eyes. + +"I--I thought--" Bertie was beginning. + +"Shots?" said Captain Hansen, dreamily. "Shots? Did you hear any shots, +Mr. Jacobs?" + +"Not a shot," replied Mr. Jacobs. + +The skipper looked at his guest triumphantly, and said: + +"Evidently an accident. Let us go down, Mr. Arkwright, and finish +dinner." + +Bertie slept that night in the captain's cabin, a tiny stateroom off the +main cabin. The for'ard bulkhead was decorated with a stand of rifles. +Over the bunk were three more rifles. Under the bunk was a big drawer, +which, when he pulled it out, he found filled with ammunition, dynamite, +and several boxes of detonators. He elected to take the settee on the +opposite side. Lying conspicuously on the small table, was the Arla's +log. Bertie did not know that it had been especially prepared for the +occasion by Captain Malu, and he read therein how on September 21, two +boat's crew had fallen overboard and been drowned. Bertie read between +the lines and knew better. He read how the Arla's whale boat had +been bushwhacked at Su'u and had lost three men; of how the skipper +discovered the cook stewing human flesh on the galley fire--flesh +purchased by the boat's crew ashore in Fui; of how an accidental +discharge of dynamite, while signaling, had killed another boat's crew; +of night attacks; ports fled from between the dawns; attacks by bushmen +in mangrove swamps and by fleets of salt-water men in the larger +passages. One item that occurred with monotonous frequency was death by +dysentery. He noticed with alarm that two white men had so died--guests, +like himself, on the Arla. + +"I say, you know," Bertie said next day to Captain Hansen. "I've been +glancing through your log." + +The skipper displayed quick vexation that the log had been left lying +about. + +"And all that dysentery, you know, that's all rot, just like the +accidental drownings," Bertie continued. "What does dysentery really +stand for?" + +The skipper openly admired his guest's acumen, stiffened himself to make +indignant denial, then gracefully surrendered. + +"You see, it's like this, Mr. Arkwright. These islands have got a bad +enough name as it is. It's getting harder every day to sign on white +men. Suppose a man is killed. The company has to pay through the nose +for another man to take the job. But if the man merely dies of sickness, +it's all right. The new chums don't mind disease. What they draw the +line at is being murdered. I thought the skipper of the Arla had died of +dysentery when I took his billet. Then it was too late. I'd signed the +contract." + +"Besides," said Mr. Jacobs, "there's altogether too many accidental +drownings anyway. It don't look right. It's the fault of the government. +A white man hasn't a chance to defend himself from the niggers." + +"Yes, look at the Princess and that Yankee mate," the skipper took up +the tale. "She carried five white men besides a government agent. The +captain, the agent, and the supercargo were ashore in the two boats. +They were killed to the last man. The mate and boson, with about fifteen +of the crew--Samoans and Tongans--were on board. A crowd of niggers came +off from shore. First thing the mate knew, the boson and the crew were +killed in the first rush. The mate grabbed three cartridge belts and two +Winchesters and skinned up to the cross-trees. He was the sole survivor, +and you can't blame him for being mad. He pumped one rifle till it got +so hot he couldn't hold it, then he pumped the other. The deck was black +with niggers. He cleaned them out. He dropped them as they went over the +rail, and he dropped them as fast as they picked up their paddles. Then +they jumped into the water and started to swim for it, and being mad, he +got half a dozen more. And what did he get for it?" + +"Seven years in Fiji," snapped the mate. + +"The government said he wasn't justified in shooting after they'd taken +to the water," the skipper explained. + +"And that's why they die of dysentery nowadays," the mate added. + +"Just fancy," said Bertie, as he felt a longing for the cruise to be +over. + +Later on in the day he interviewed the black who had been pointed out +to him as a cannibal. This fellow's name was Sumasai. He had spent three +years on a Queensland plantation. He had been to Samoa, and Fiji, and +Sydney; and as a boat's crew had been on recruiting schooners through +New Britain, New Ireland, New Guinea, and the Admiralties. Also, he was +a wag, and he had taken a line on his skipper's conduct. Yes, he had +eaten many men. How many? He could not remember the tally. Yes, white +men, too; they were very good, unless they were sick. He had once eaten +a sick one. + +"My word!" he cried, at the recollection. "Me sick plenty along him. My +belly walk about too much." + +Bertie shuddered, and asked about heads. Yes, Sumasai had several hidden +ashore, in good condition, sun-dried, and smoke-cured. One was of the +captain of a schooner. It had long whiskers. He would sell it for +two quid. Black men's heads he would sell for one quid. He had some +pickaninny heads, in poor condition, that he would let go for ten bob. + +Five minutes afterward, Bertie found himself sitting on the +companionway-slide alongside a black with a horrible skin disease. He +sheered off, and on inquiry was told that it was leprosy. He hurried +below and washed himself with antiseptic soap. He took many antiseptic +washes in the course of the day, for every native on board was afflicted +with malignant ulcers of one sort or another. + +As the Arla drew in to an anchorage in the midst of mangrove swamps, +a double row of barbed wire was stretched around above her rail. That +looked like business, and when Bertie saw the shore canoes alongside, +armed with spears, bows and arrows, and Sniders, he wished more +earnestly than ever that the cruise was over. + +That evening the natives were slow in leaving the ship at sundown. A +number of them checked the mate when he ordered them ashore. "Never +mind, I'll fix them," said Captain Hansen, diving below. + +When he came back, he showed Bertie a stick of dynamite attached to a +fish hook. Now it happens that a paper-wrapped bottle of chlorodyne with +a piece of harmless fuse projecting can fool anybody. It fooled Bertie, +and it fooled the natives. When Captain Hansen lighted the fuse and +hooked the fish hook into the tail end of a native's loin cloth, that +native was smitten with so an ardent a desire for the shore that he +forgot to shed the loin cloth. He started for'ard, the fuse sizzling and +spluttering at his rear, the natives in his path taking headers over the +barbed wire at every jump. Bertie was horror-stricken. So was Captain +Hansen. He had forgotten his twenty-five recruits, on each of which he +had paid thirty shillings advance. They went over the side along with +the shore-dwelling folk and followed by him who trailed the sizzling +chlorodyne bottle. + +Bertie did not see the bottle go off; but the mate opportunely +discharging a stick of real dynamite aft where it would harm nobody, +Bertie would have sworn in any admiralty court to a nigger blown to +flinders. The flight of the twenty-five recruits had actually cost the +Arla forty pounds, and, since they had taken to the bush, there was no +hope of recovering them. The skipper and his mate proceeded to drown +their sorrow in cold tea. + +The cold tea was in whiskey bottles, so Bertie did not know it was cold +tea they were mopping up. All he knew was that the two men got very +drunk and argued eloquently and at length as to whether the exploded +nigger should be reported as a case of dysentery or as an accidental +drowning. When they snored off to sleep, he was the only white man left, +and he kept a perilous watch till dawn, in fear of an attack from shore +and an uprising of the crew. + +Three more days the Arla spent on the coast, and three more nights the +skipper and the mate drank overfondly of cold tea, leaving Bertie +to keep the watch. They knew he could be depended upon, while he was +equally certain that if he lived, he would report their drunken conduct +to Captain Malu. Then the Arla dropped anchor at Reminge Plantation, on +Guadalcanar, and Bertie landed on the beach with a sigh of relief and +shook hands with the manager. Mr. Harriwell was ready for him. + +"Now you mustn't be alarmed if some of our fellows seem downcast," Mr. +Harriwell said, having drawn him aside in confidence. "There's been talk +of an outbreak, and two or three suspicious signs I'm willing to admit, +but personally I think it's all poppycock." + +"How--how many blacks have you on the plantation?" Bertie asked, with a +sinking heart. + +"We're working four hundred just now," replied Mr. Harriwell, +cheerfully; "but the three of us, with you, of course, and the skipper +and mate of the Arla, can handle them all right." + +Bertie turned to meet one McTavish, the storekeeper, who scarcely +acknowledged the introduction, such was his eagerness to present his +resignation. + +"It being that I'm a married man, Mr. Harriwell, I can't very well +afford to remain on longer. Trouble is working up, as plain as the +nose on your face. The niggers are going to break out, and there'll be +another Hohono horror here." + +"What's a Hohono horror?" Bertie asked, after the storekeeper had been +persuaded to remain until the end of the month. + +"Oh, he means Hohono Plantation, on Ysabel," said the manager. "The +niggers killed the five white men ashore, captured the schooner, killed +the captain and mate, and escaped in a body to Malaita. But I always +said they were careless on Hohono. They won't catch us napping here. +Come along, Mr. Arkwright, and see our view from the veranda." + +Bertie was too busy wondering how he could get away to Tulagi to the +Commissioner's house, to see much of the view. He was still wondering, +when a rifle exploded very near to him, behind his back. At the same +moment his arm was nearly dislocated, so eagerly did Mr. Harriwell drag +him indoors. + +"I say, old man, that was a close shave," said the manager, pawing him +over to see if he had been hit. "I can't tell you how sorry I am. But it +was broad daylight, and I never dreamed." + +Bertie was beginning to turn pale. + +"They got the other manager that way," McTavish vouchsafed. "And a +dashed fine chap he was. Blew his brains out all over the veranda. You +noticed that dark stain there between the steps and the door?" + +Bertie was ripe for the cocktail which Mr. Harriwell pitched in and +compounded for him; but before he could drink it, a man in riding +trousers and puttees entered. + +"What's the matter now?" the manager asked, after one look at the +newcomer's face. "Is the river up again?" + +"River be blowed--it's the niggers. Stepped out of the cane grass, not +a dozen feet away, and whopped at me. It was a Snider, and he shot from +the hip. Now what I want to know is where'd he get that Snider?--Oh, I +beg pardon. Glad to know you, Mr. Arkwright." + +"Mr. Brown is my assistant," explained Mr. Harriwell. "And now let's +have that drink." + +"But where'd he get that Snider?" Mr. Brown insisted. "I always objected +to keeping those guns on the premises." + +"They're still there," Mr. Harriwell said, with a show of heat. + +Mr. Brown smiled incredulously. + +"Come along and see," said the manager. + +Bertie joined the procession into the office, where Mr. Harriwell +pointed triumphantly at a big packing case in a dusty corner. + +"Well, then where did the beggar get that Snider?" harped Mr. Brown. + +But just then McTavish lifted the packing case. The manager started, +then tore off the lid. The case was empty. They gazed at one another in +horrified silence. Harriwell drooped wearily. + +Then McVeigh cursed. + +"What I contended all along--the house-boys are not to be trusted." + +"It does look serious," Harriwell admitted, "but we'll come through it +all right. What the sanguinary niggers need is a shaking up. Will you +gentlemen please bring your rifles to dinner, and will you, Mr. Brown, +kindly prepare forty or fifty sticks of dynamite. Make the fuses good +and short. We'll give them a lesson. And now, gentlemen, dinner is +served." + +One thing that Bertie detested was rice and curry, so it happened that +he alone partook of an inviting omelet. He had quite finished his plate, +when Harriwell helped himself to the omelet. One mouthful he tasted, +then spat out vociferously. + +"That's the second time," McTavish announced ominously. + +Harriwell was still hawking and spitting. + +"Second time, what?" Bertie quavered. + +"Poison," was the answer. "That cook will be hanged yet." + +"That's the way the bookkeeper went out at Cape March," Brown spoke up. +"Died horribly. They said on the Jessie that they heard him screaming +three miles away." + +"I'll put the cook in irons," sputtered Harriwell. "Fortunately we +discovered it in time." + +Bertie sat paralyzed. There was no color in his face. He attempted to +speak, but only an inarticulate gurgle resulted. All eyed him anxiously. + +"Don't say it, don't say it," McTavish cried in a tense voice. + +"Yes, I ate it, plenty of it, a whole plateful!" Bertie cried +explosively, like a diver suddenly regaining breath. + +The awful silence continued half a minute longer, and he read his fate +in their eyes. + +"Maybe it wasn't poison after all," said Harriwell, dismally. + +"Call in the cook," said Brown. + +In came the cook, a grinning black boy, nose-spiked and ear-plugged. + +"Here, you, Wi-wi, what name that?" Harriwell bellowed, pointing +accusingly at the omelet. + +Wi-wi was very naturally frightened and embarrassed. + +"Him good fella kai-kai," he murmured apologetically. + +"Make him eat it," suggested McTavish. "That's a proper test." + +Harriwell filled a spoon with the stuff and jumped for the cook, who +fled in panic. + +"That settles it," was Brown's solemn pronouncement. "He won't eat it." + +"Mr. Brown, will you please go and put the irons on him?" Harriwell +turned cheerfully to Bertie. "It's all right, old man, the Commissioner +will deal with him, and if you die, depend upon it, he will be hanged." + +"Don't think the government'll do it," objected McTavish. + +"But gentlemen, gentlemen," Bertie cried. "In the meantime think of me." + +Harriwell shrugged his shoulders pityingly. + +"Sorry, old man, but it's a native poison, and there are no known +antidotes for native poisons. Try and compose yourself and if--" + +Two sharp reports of a rifle from without, interrupted the discourse, +and Brown, entering, reloaded his rifle and sat down to table. + +"The cook's dead," he said. "Fever. A rather sudden attack." + +"I was just telling Mr. Arkwright that there are no antidotes for native +poisons--" + +"Except gin," said Brown. + +Harriwell called himself an absent-minded idiot and rushed for the gin +bottle. + +"Neat, man, neat," he warned Bertie, who gulped down a tumbler +two-thirds full of the raw spirits, and coughed and choked from the +angry bite of it till the tears ran down his cheeks. + +Harriwell took his pulse and temperature, made a show of looking out for +him, and doubted that the omelet had been poisoned. Brown and McTavish +also doubted; but Bertie discerned an insincere ring in their voices. +His appetite had left him, and he took his own pulse stealthily under +the table. There was no question but what it was increasing, but he +failed to ascribe it to the gin he had taken. McTavish, rifle in hand, +went out on the veranda to reconnoiter. + +"They're massing up at the cook-house," was his report. "And they've no +end of Sniders. My idea is to sneak around on the other side and take +them in flank. Strike the first blow, you know. Will you come along, +Brown?" + +Harriwell ate on steadily, while Bertie discovered that his pulse had +leaped up five beats. Nevertheless, he could not help jumping when the +rifles began to go off. Above the scattering of Sniders could be +heard the pumping of Brown's and McTavish's Winchesters--all against a +background of demoniacal screeching and yelling. + +"They've got them on the run," Harriwell remarked, as voices and +gunshots faded away in the distance. + +Scarcely were Brown and McTavish back at the table when the latter +reconnoitered. + +"They've got dynamite," he said. + +"Then let's charge them with dynamite," Harriwell proposed. + +Thrusting half a dozen sticks each into their pockets and equipping +themselves with lighted cigars, they started for the door. And just then +it happened. They blamed McTavish for it afterward, and he admitted +that the charge had been a trifle excessive. But at any rate it went +off under the house, which lifted up cornerwise and settled back on +its foundations. Half the china on the table was shattered, while the +eight-day clock stopped. Yelling for vengeance, the three men rushed out +into the night, and the bombardment began. + +When they returned, there was no Bertie. He had dragged himself away +to the office, barricaded himself in, and sunk upon the floor in a +gin-soaked nightmare, wherein he died a thousand deaths while the +valorous fight went on around him. In the morning, sick and headachey +from the gin, he crawled out to find the sun still in the sky and God +presumable in heaven, for his hosts were alive and uninjured. + +Harriwell pressed him to stay on longer, but Bertie insisted on sailing +immediately on the Arla for Tulagi, where, until the following steamer +day, he stuck close by the Commissioner's house. There were lady +tourists on the outgoing steamer, and Bertie was again a hero, while +Captain Malu, as usual, passed unnoticed. But Captain Malu sent back +from Sydney two cases of the best Scotch whiskey on the market, for he +was not able to make up his mind as to whether it was Captain Hansen or +Mr Harriwell who had given Bertie Arkwright the more gorgeous insight +into life in the Solomons. + + + + +THE INEVITABLE WHITE MAN + +"The black will never understand the white, nor the white the black, as +long as black is black and white is white." + +So said Captain Woodward. We sat in the parlor of Charley Roberts' pub +in Apia, drinking long Abu Hameds compounded and shared with us by the +aforesaid Charley Roberts, who claimed the recipe direct from Stevens, +famous for having invented the Abu Hamed at a time when he was spurred +on by Nile thirst--the Stevens who was responsible for "With Kitchener +to Kartoun," and who passed out at the siege of Ladysmith. + +Captain Woodward, short and squat, elderly, burned by forty years of +tropic sun, and with the most beautiful liquid brown eyes I ever saw in +a man, spoke from a vast experience. The crisscross of scars on his bald +pate bespoke a tomahawk intimacy with the black, and of equal intimacy +was the advertisement, front and rear, on the right side of his neck, +where an arrow had at one time entered and been pulled clean through. As +he explained, he had been in a hurry on that occasion--the arrow impeded +his running--and he felt that he could not take the time to break off +the head and pull out the shaft the way it had come in. At the present +moment he was commander of the SAVAII, the big steamer that recruited +labor from the westward for the German plantations on Samoa. + +"Half the trouble is the stupidity of the whites," said Roberts, +pausing to take a swig from his glass and to curse the Samoan bar-boy +in affectionate terms. "If the white man would lay himself out a bit +to understand the workings of the black man's mind, most of the messes +would be avoided." + +"I've seen a few who claimed they understood niggers," Captain Woodward +retorted, "and I always took notice that they were the first to be +kai-kai'd (eaten). Look at the missionaries in New Guinea and the New +Hebrides--the martyr isle of Erromanga and all the rest. Look at the +Austrian expedition that was cut to pieces in the Solomons, in the bush +of Guadalcanar. And look at the traders themselves, with a score of +years' experience, making their brag that no nigger would ever get them, +and whose heads to this day are ornamenting the rafters of the canoe +houses. There was old Johnny Simons--twenty-six years on the raw edges +of Melanesia, swore he knew the niggers like a book and that they'd +never do for him, and he passed out at Marovo Lagoon, New Georgia, had +his head sawed off by a black Mary (woman) and an old nigger with only +one leg, having left the other leg in the mouth of a shark while diving +for dynamited fish. There was Billy Watts, horrible reputation as +a nigger killer, a man to scare the devil. I remember lying at Cape +Little, New Ireland you know, when the niggers stole half a case of +trade-tobacco--cost him about three dollars and a half. In retaliation +he turned out, shot six niggers, smashed up their war canoes and burned +two villages. And it was at Cape Little, four years afterward, that +he was jumped along with fifty Buku boys he had with him fishing +bche-de-mer. In five minutes they were all dead, with the exception of +three boys who got away in a canoe. Don't talk to me about understanding +the nigger. The white man's mission is to farm the world, and it's a +big enough job cut out for him. What time has he got left to understand +niggers anyway?" + +"Just so," said Roberts. "And somehow it doesn't seem necessary, after +all, to understand the niggers. In direct proportion to the white man's +stupidity is his success in farming the world--" + +"And putting the fear of God into the nigger's heart," Captain Woodward +blurted out. "Perhaps you're right, Roberts. Perhaps it's his stupidity +that makes him succeed, and surely one phase of his stupidity is his +inability to understand the niggers. But there's one thing sure, the +white has to run the niggers whether he understands them or not. It's +inevitable. It's fate." + +"And of course the white man is inevitable--it's the niggers' fate," +Roberts broke in. "Tell the white man there's pearl shell in some lagoon +infested by ten-thousand howling cannibals, and he'll head there all by +his lonely, with half a dozen kanaka divers and a tin alarm clock for +chronometer, all packed like sardines on a commodious, five-ton ketch. +Whisper that there's a gold strike at the North Pole, and that same +inevitable white-skinned creature will set out at once, armed with pick +and shovel, a side of bacon, and the latest patent rocker--and what's +more, he'll get there. Tip it off to him that there's diamonds on the +red-hot ramparts of hell, and Mr. White Man will storm the ramparts +and set old Satan himself to pick-and-shovel work. That's what comes of +being stupid and inevitable." + +"But I wonder what the black man must think of the--the inevitableness," +I said. + +Captain Woodward broke into quiet laughter. His eyes had a reminiscent +gleam. + +"I'm just wondering what the niggers of Malu thought and still must be +thinking of the one inevitable white man we had on board when we visited +them in the DUCHESS," he explained. + +Roberts mixed three more Abu Hameds. + +"That was twenty years ago. Saxtorph was his name. He was certainly the +most stupid man I ever saw, but he was as inevitable as death. There was +only one thing that chap could do, and that was shoot. I remember the +first time I ran into him--right here in Apia, twenty years ago. That +was before your time, Roberts. I was sleeping at Dutch Henry's hotel, +down where the market is now. Ever heard of him? He made a tidy stake +smuggling arms in to the rebels, sold out his hotel, and was killed in +Sydney just six weeks afterward in a saloon row. + +"But Saxtorph. One night I'd just got to sleep, when a couple of cats +began to sing in the courtyard. It was out of bed and up window, water +jug in hand. But just then I heard the window of the next room go up. +Two shots were fired, and the window was closed. I fail to impress you +with the celerity of the transaction. Ten seconds at the outside. Up +went the window, bang bang went the revolver, and down went the window. +Whoever it was, he had never stopped to see the effect of his shots. He +knew. Do you follow me?--he KNEW. There was no more cat concert, and in +the morning there lay the two offenders, stone dead. It was marvelous +to me. It still is marvelous. First, it was starlight, and Saxtorph shot +without drawing a bead; next, he shot so rapidly that the two reports +were like a double report; and finally, he knew he had hit his marks +without looking to see. + +"Two days afterward he came on board to see me. I was mate, then, on +the Duchess, a whacking big one-hundred-and fifty-ton schooner, a +blackbirder. And let me tell you that blackbirders were blackbirders in +those days. There weren't any government protection for US, either. It +was rough work, give and take, if we were finished, and nothing said, +and we ran niggers from every south sea island they didn't kick us off +from. Well, Saxtorph came on board, John Saxtorph was the name he gave. +He was a sandy little man, hair sandy, complexion sandy, and eyes sandy, +too. Nothing striking about him. His soul was as neutral as his color +scheme. He said he was strapped and wanted to ship on board. Would go +cabin boy, cook, supercargo, or common sailor. Didn't know anything +about any of the billets, but said that he was willing to learn. I +didn't want him, but his shooting had so impressed me that I took him as +common sailor, wages three pounds per month. + +"He was willing to learn all right, I'll say that much. But he was +constitutionally unable to learn anything. He could no more box the +compass than I could mix drinks like Roberts here. And as for steering, +he gave me my first gray hairs. I never dared risk him at the wheel when +we were running in a big sea, while full-and-by and close-and-by were +insoluble mysteries. Couldn't ever tell the difference between a sheet +and a tackle, simply couldn't. The fore-throat-jig and the jib-jig were +all one to him. Tell him to slack off the mainsheet, and before you know +it, he'd drop the peak. He fell overboard three times, and he couldn't +swim. But he was always cheerful, never seasick, and he was the most +willing man I ever knew. He was an uncommunicative soul. Never talked +about himself. His history, so far as we were concerned, began the day +he signed on the DUCHESS. Where he learned to shoot, the stars alone can +tell. He was a Yankee--that much we knew from the twang in his speech. +And that was all we ever did know. + +"And now we begin to get to the point. We had bad luck in the New +Hebrides, only fourteen boys for five weeks, and we ran up before the +southeast for the Solomons. Malaita, then as now, was good recruiting +ground, and we ran into Malu, on the northwestern corner. There's a +shore reef and an outer reef, and a mighty nervous anchorage; but we +made it all right and fired off our dynamite as a signal to the niggers +to come down and be recruited. In three days we got not a boy. The +niggers came off to us in their canoes by hundreds, but they only +laughed when we showed them beads and calico and hatchets and talked of +the delights of plantation work in Samoa. + +"On the fourth day there came a change. Fifty-odd boys signed on and +were billeted in the main-hold, with the freedom of the deck, of course. +And of course, looking back, this wholesale signing on was suspicious, +but at the time we thought some powerful chief had removed the ban +against recruiting. The morning of the fifth day our two boats went +ashore as usual--one to cover the other, you know, in case of trouble. +And, as usual, the fifty niggers on board were on deck, loafing, +talking, smoking, and sleeping. Saxtorph and myself, along with four +other sailors, were all that were left on board. The two boats were +manned with Gilbert Islanders. In the one were the captain, the +supercargo, and the recruiter. In the other, which was the covering boat +and which lay off shore a hundred yards, was the second mate. Both boats +were well-armed, though trouble was little expected. + +"Four of the sailors, including Saxtorph, were scraping the poop rail. +The fifth sailor, rifle in hand, was standing guard by the water-tank +just for'ard of the mainmast. I was for'ard, putting in the finishing +licks on a new jaw for the fore-gaff. I was just reaching for my pipe +where I had laid it down, when I heard a shot from shore. I straightened +up to look. Something struck me on the back of the head, partially +stunning me and knocking me to the deck. My first thought was that +something had carried away aloft; but even as I went down, and before +I struck the deck, I heard the devil's own tattoo of rifles from the +boats, and twisting sidewise, I caught a glimpse of the sailor who +was standing guard. Two big niggers were holding his arms, and a third +nigger from behind was braining him with a tomahawk. + +"I can see it now, the water-tank, the mainmast, the gang hanging on to +him, the hatchet descending on the back of his head, and all under the +blazing sunlight. I was fascinated by that growing vision of death. +The tomahawk seemed to take a horribly long time to come down. I saw it +land, and the man's legs give under him as he crumpled. The niggers held +him up by sheer strength while he was hacked a couple of times more. +Then I got two more hacks on the head and decided that I was dead. So +did the brute that was hacking me. I was too helpless to move, and I lay +there and watched them removing the sentry's head. I must say they did +it slick enough. They were old hands at the business. + +"The rifle firing from the boats had ceased, and I made no doubt that +they were finished off and that the end had come to everything. It was +only a matter of moments when they would return for my head. They were +evidently taking the heads from the sailors aft. Heads are valuable on +Malaita, especially white heads. They have the place of honor in the +canoe houses of the salt-water natives. What particular decorative +effect the bushmen get out of them I didn't know, but they prize them +just as much as the salt-water crowd. + +"I had a dim notion of escaping, and I crawled on hands and knees to +the winch, where I managed to drag myself to my feet. From there I +could look aft and see three heads on top the cabin--the heads of three +sailors I had given orders to for months. The niggers saw me standing, +and started for me. I reached for my revolver, and found they had taken +it. I can't say that I was scared. I've been near to death several +times, but it never seemed easier than right then. I was half-stunned, +and nothing seemed to matter. + +"The leading nigger had armed himself with a cleaver from the galley, +and he grimaced like an ape as he prepared to slice me down. But the +slice was never made. He went down on the deck all of a heap, and I saw +the blood gush from his mouth. In a dim way I heard a rifle go off and +continue to go off. Nigger after nigger went down. My senses began to +clear, and I noted that there was never a miss. Every time that the +rifle went off a nigger dropped. I sat down on deck beside the winch and +looked up. Perched in the crosstrees was Saxtorph. How he had managed +it I can't imagine, for he had carried up with him two Winchesters and +I don't know how many bandoliers of ammunition; and he was now doing the +one only thing in this world that he was fitted to do. + +"I've seen shooting and slaughter, but I never saw anything like that. +I sat by the winch and watched the show. I was weak and faint, and it +seemed to be all a dream. Bang, bang, bang, bang, went his rifle, and +thud, thud, thud, thud, went the niggers to the deck. It was amazing to +see them go down. After their first rush to get me, when about a dozen +had dropped, they seemed paralyzed; but he never left off pumping his +gun. By this time canoes and the two boats arrived from shore, armed +with Sniders, and with Winchesters which they had captured in the boats. +The fusillade they let loose on Saxtorph was tremendous. Luckily for him +the niggers are only good at close range. They are not used to putting +the gun to their shoulders. They wait until they are right on top of +a man, and then they shoot from the hip. When his rifle got too hot, +Saxtorph changed off. That had been his idea when he carried two rifles +up with him. + +"The astounding thing was the rapidity of his fire. Also, he never +made a miss. If ever anything was inevitable, that man was. It was the +swiftness of it that made the slaughter so appalling. The niggers did +not have time to think. When they did manage to think, they went over +the side in a rush, capsizing the canoes of course. Saxtorph never let +up. The water was covered with them, and plump, plump, plump, he dropped +his bullets into them. Not a single miss, and I could hear distinctly +the thud of every bullet as it buried in human flesh. + +"The niggers spread out and headed for the shore, swimming. The water +was carpeted with bobbing heads, and I stood up, as in a dream, and +watched it all--the bobbing heads and the heads that ceased to bob. Some +of the long shots were magnificent. Only one man reached the beach, but +as he stood up to wade ashore, Saxtorph got him. It was beautiful. And +when a couple of niggers ran down to drag him out of the water, Saxtorph +got them, too. + +"I thought everything was over then, when I heard the rifle go off +again. A nigger had come out of the cabin companion on the run for the +rail and gone down in the middle of it. The cabin must have been full +of them. I counted twenty. They came up one at a time and jumped for the +rail. But they never got there. It reminded me of trapshooting. A black +body would pop out of the companion, bang would go Saxtorph's rifle, and +down would go the black body. Of course, those below did not know what +was happening on deck, so they continued to pop out until the last one +was finished off. + +"Saxtorph waited a while to make sure, and then came down on deck. He +and I were all that were left of the DUCHESS'S complement, and I was +pretty well to the bad, while he was helpless now that the shooting was +over. Under my direction he washed out my scalp wounds and sewed them +up. A big drink of whiskey braced me to make an effort to get out. There +was nothing else to do. All the rest were dead. We tried to get up sail, +Saxtorph hoisting and I holding the turn. He was once more the stupid +lubber. He couldn't hoist worth a cent, and when I fell in a faint, it +looked all up with us. + +"When I came to, Saxtorph was sitting helplessly on the rail, waiting to +ask me what he should do. I told him to overhaul the wounded and see if +there were any able to crawl. He gathered together six. One, I remember, +had a broken leg; but Saxtorph said his arms were all right. I lay +in the shade, brushing the flies off and directing operations, while +Saxtorph bossed his hospital gang. I'll be blessed if he didn't make +those poor niggers heave at every rope on the pin-rails before he found +the halyards. One of them let go the rope in the midst of the hoisting +and slipped down to the deck dead; but Saxtorph hammered the others and +made them stick by the job. When the fore and main were up, I told him +to knock the shackle out of the anchor chain and let her go. I had had +myself helped aft to the wheel, where I was going to make a shift at +steering. I can't guess how he did it, but instead of knocking the +shackle out, down went the second anchor, and there we were doubly +moored. + +"In the end he managed to knock both shackles out and raise the staysail +and jib, and the Duchess filled away for the entrance. Our decks were a +spectacle. Dead and dying niggers were everywhere. They were wedged away +some of them in the most inconceivable places. The cabin was full of +them where they had crawled off the deck and cashed in. I put Saxtorph +and his graveyard gang to work heaving them overside, and over they +went, the living and the dead. The sharks had fat pickings that day. +Of course our four murdered sailors went the same way. Their heads, +however, we put in a sack with weights, so that by no chance should they +drift on the beach and fall into the hands of the niggers. + +"Our five prisoners I decided to use as crew, but they decided +otherwise. They watched their opportunity and went over the side. +Saxtorph got two in mid-air with his revolver, and would have shot the +other three in the water if I hadn't stopped him. I was sick of the +slaughter, you see, and besides, they'd helped work the schooner out. +But it was mercy thrown away, for the sharks got the three of them. + +"I had brain fever or something after we got clear of the land. Anyway, +the DUCHESS lay hove to for three weeks, when I pulled myself together +and we jogged on with her to Sydney. Anyway those niggers of Malu +learned the everlasting lesson that it is not good to monkey with a +white man. In their case, Saxtorph was certainly inevitable." + +Charley Roberts emitted a long whistle and said: + +"Well I should say so. But whatever became of Saxtorph?" + +"He drifted into seal hunting and became a crackerjack. For six years he +was high line of both the Victoria and San Francisco fleets. The seventh +year his schooner was seized in Bering Sea by a Russian cruiser, and all +hands, so the talk went, were slammed into the Siberian salt mines. At +least I've never heard of him since." + +"Farming the world," Roberts muttered. "Farming the world. Well here's +to them. Somebody's got to do it--farm the world, I mean." + +Captain Woodward rubbed the criss-crosses on his bald head. + +"I've done my share of it," he said. "Forty years now. This will be my +last trip. Then I'm going home to stay." + +"I'll wager the wine you don't," Roberts challenged. "You'll die in the +harness, not at home." + +Captain Woodward promptly accepted the bet, but personally I think +Charley Roberts has the best of it. + + + + +THE SEED OF McCOY + +The Pyrenees, her iron sides pressed low in the water by her cargo of +wheat, rolled sluggishly, and made it easy for the man who was climbing +aboard from out a tiny outrigger canoe. As his eyes came level with the +rail, so that he could see inboard, it seemed to him that he saw a dim, +almost indiscernible haze. It was more like an illusion, like a blurring +film that had spread abruptly over his eyes. He felt an inclination to +brush it away, and the same instant he thought that he was growing old +and that it was time to send to San Francisco for a pair of spectacles. + +As he came over the rail he cast a glance aloft at the tall masts, and, +next, at the pumps. They were not working. There seemed nothing the +matter with the big ship, and he wondered why she had hoisted the signal +of distress. He thought of his happy islanders, and hoped it was not +disease. Perhaps the ship was short of water or provisions. He shook +hands with the captain whose gaunt face and care-worn eyes made no +secret of the trouble, whatever it was. At the same moment the newcomer +was aware of a faint, indefinable smell. It seemed like that of burnt +bread, but different. + +He glanced curiously about him. Twenty feet away a weary-faced sailor +was calking the deck. As his eyes lingered on the man, he saw suddenly +arise from under his hands a faint spiral of haze that curled and +twisted and was gone. By now he had reached the deck. His bare feet were +pervaded by a dull warmth that quickly penetrated the thick calluses. +He knew now the nature of the ship's distress. His eyes roved swiftly +forward, where the full crew of weary-faced sailors regarded him +eagerly. The glance from his liquid brown eyes swept over them like a +benediction, soothing them, rapping them about as in the mantle of a +great peace. "How long has she been afire, Captain?" he asked in a voice +so gentle and unperturbed that it was as the cooing of a dove. + +At first the captain felt the peace and content of it stealing in upon +him; then the consciousness of all that he had gone through and was +going through smote him, and he was resentful. By what right did this +ragged beachcomber, in dungaree trousers and a cotton shirt, suggest +such a thing as peace and content to him and his overwrought, exhausted +soul? The captain did not reason this; it was the unconscious process of +emotion that caused his resentment. + +"Fifteen days," he answered shortly. "Who are you?" + +"My name is McCoy," came the answer in tones that breathed tenderness +and compassion. + +"I mean, are you the pilot?" + +McCoy passed the benediction of his gaze over the tall, heavy-shouldered +man with the haggard, unshaven face who had joined the captain. + +"I am as much a pilot as anybody," was McCoy's answer. "We are all +pilots here, Captain, and I know every inch of these waters." + +But the captain was impatient. + +"What I want is some of the authorities. I want to talk with them, and +blame quick." + +"Then I'll do just as well." + +Again that insidious suggestion of peace, and his ship a raging +furnace beneath his feet! The captain's eyebrows lifted impatiently and +nervously, and his fist clenched as if he were about to strike a blow +with it. + +"Who in hell are you?" he demanded. + +"I am the chief magistrate," was the reply in a voice that was still the +softest and gentlest imaginable. + +The tall, heavy-shouldered man broke out in a harsh laugh that was +partly amusement, but mostly hysterical. Both he and the captain +regarded McCoy with incredulity and amazement. That this barefooted +beachcomber should possess such high-sounding dignity was inconceivable. +His cotton shirt, unbuttoned, exposed a grizzled chest and the fact that +there was no undershirt beneath. + +A worn straw hat failed to hide the ragged gray hair. Halfway down his +chest descended an untrimmed patriarchal beard. In any slop shop, two +shillings would have outfitted him complete as he stood before them. + +"Any relation to the McCoy of the Bounty?" the captain asked. + +"He was my great-grandfather." + +"Oh," the captain said, then bethought himself. "My name is Davenport, +and this is my first mate, Mr. Konig." + +They shook hands. + +"And now to business." The captain spoke quickly, the urgency of a great +haste pressing his speech. "We've been on fire for over two weeks. +She's ready to break all hell loose any moment. That's why I held for +Pitcairn. I want to beach her, or scuttle her, and save the hull." + +"Then you made a mistake, Captain," said McCoy. "You should have slacked +away for Mangareva. There's a beautiful beach there, in a lagoon where +the water is like a mill pond." + +"But we're here, ain't we?" the first mate demanded. "That's the point. +We're here, and we've got to do something." + +McCoy shook his head kindly. + +"You can do nothing here. There is no beach. There isn't even +anchorage." + +"Gammon!" said the mate. "Gammon!" he repeated loudly, as the captain +signaled him to be more soft spoken. "You can't tell me that sort of +stuff. Where d'ye keep your own boats, hey--your schooner, or cutter, or +whatever you have? Hey? Answer me that." + +McCoy smiled as gently as he spoke. His smile was a caress, an embrace +that surrounded the tired mate and sought to draw him into the quietude +and rest of McCoy's tranquil soul. + +"We have no schooner or cutter," he replied. "And we carry our canoes to +the top of the cliff." + +"You've got to show me," snorted the mate. "How d'ye get around to the +other islands, heh? Tell me that." + +"We don't get around. As governor of Pitcairn, I sometimes go. When +I was younger, I was away a great deal--sometimes on the trading +schooners, but mostly on the missionary brig. But she's gone now, and we +depend on passing vessels. Sometimes we have had as high as six calls in +one year. At other times, a year, and even longer, has gone by without +one passing ship. Yours is the first in seven months." + +"And you mean to tell me--" the mate began. + +But Captain Davenport interfered. + +"Enough of this. We're losing time. What is to be done, Mr. McCoy?" + +The old man turned his brown eyes, sweet as a woman's, shoreward, and +both captain and mate followed his gaze around from the lonely rock of +Pitcairn to the crew clustering forward and waiting anxiously for the +announcement of a decision. McCoy did not hurry. He thought smoothly and +slowly, step by step, with the certitude of a mind that was never vexed +or outraged by life. + +"The wind is light now," he said finally. "There is a heavy current +setting to the westward." + +"That's what made us fetch to leeward," the captain interrupted, +desiring to vindicate his seamanship. + +"Yes, that is what fetched you to leeward," McCoy went on. "Well, you +can't work up against this current today. And if you did, there is no +beach. Your ship will be a total loss." + +He paused, and captain and mate looked despair at each other. + +"But I will tell you what you can do. The breeze will freshen tonight +around midnight--see those tails of clouds and that thickness to +windward, beyond the point there? That's where she'll come from, out of +the southeast, hard. It is three hundred miles to Mangareva. Square away +for it. There is a beautiful bed for your ship there." + +The mate shook his head. + +"Come in to the cabin, and we'll look at the chart," said the captain. + +McCoy found a stifling, poisonous atmosphere in the pent cabin. Stray +waftures of invisible gases bit his eyes and made them sting. The deck +was hotter, almost unbearably hot to his bare feet. The sweat poured +out of his body. He looked almost with apprehension about him. This +malignant, internal heat was astounding. It was a marvel that the cabin +did not burst into flames. He had a feeling as if of being in a huge +bake oven where the heat might at any moment increase tremendously and +shrivel him up like a blade of grass. + +As he lifted one foot and rubbed the hot sole against the leg of his +trousers, the mate laughed in a savage, snarling fashion. + +"The anteroom of hell," he said. "Hell herself is right down there under +your feet." + +"It's hot!" McCoy cried involuntarily, mopping his face with a bandana +handkerchief. + +"Here's Mangareva," the captain said, bending over the table and +pointing to a black speck in the midst of the white blankness of the +chart. "And here, in between, is another island. Why not run for that?" + +McCoy did not look at the chart. + +"That's Crescent Island," he answered. "It is uninhabited, and it +is only two or three feet above water. Lagoon, but no entrance. No, +Mangareva is the nearest place for your purpose." + +"Mangareva it is, then," said Captain Davenport, interrupting the mate's +growling objection. "Call the crew aft, Mr. Konig." + +The sailors obeyed, shuffling wearily along the deck and painfully +endeavoring to make haste. Exhaustion was evident in every movement. The +cook came out of his galley to hear, and the cabin boy hung about near +him. + +When Captain Davenport had explained the situation and announced his +intention of running for Mangareva, an uproar broke out. Against a +background of throaty rumbling arose inarticulate cries of rage, with +here and there a distinct curse, or word, or phrase. A shrill Cockney +voice soared and dominated for a moment, crying: "Gawd! After bein' in +ell for fifteen days--an' now e wants us to sail this floatin' ell to +sea again?" + +The captain could not control them, but McCoy's gentle presence seemed +to rebuke and calm them, and the muttering and cursing died away, until +the full crew, save here and there an anxious face directed at the +captain, yearned dumbly toward the green clad peaks and beetling coast +of Pitcairn. + +Soft as a spring zephyr was the voice of McCoy: + +"Captain, I thought I heard some of them say they were starving." + +"Ay," was the answer, "and so we are. I've had a sea biscuit and a +spoonful of salmon in the last two days. We're on whack. You see, when +we discovered the fire, we battened down immediately to suffocate the +fire. And then we found how little food there was in the pantry. But it +was too late. We didn't dare break out the lazarette. Hungry? I'm just +as hungry as they are." + +He spoke to the men again, and again the throat rumbling and cursing +arose, their faces convulsed and animal-like with rage. The second and +third mates had joined the captain, standing behind him at the break of +the poop. Their faces were set and expressionless; they seemed bored, +more than anything else, by this mutiny of the crew. Captain Davenport +glanced questioningly at his first mate, and that person merely shrugged +his shoulders in token of his helplessness. + +"You see," the captain said to McCoy, "you can't compel sailors to leave +the safe land and go to sea on a burning vessel. She has been their +floating coffin for over two weeks now. They are worked out, and starved +out, and they've got enough of her. We'll beat up for Pitcairn." + +But the wind was light, the Pyrenees' bottom was foul, and she could not +beat up against the strong westerly current. At the end of two hours she +had lost three miles. The sailors worked eagerly, as if by main strength +they could compel the PYRENEES against the adverse elements. But +steadily, port tack and starboard tack, she sagged off to the westward. +The captain paced restlessly up and down, pausing occasionally to survey +the vagrant smoke wisps and to trace them back to the portions of the +deck from which they sprang. The carpenter was engaged constantly in +attempting to locate such places, and, when he succeeded, in calking +them tighter and tighter. + +"Well, what do you think?" the captain finally asked McCoy, who was +watching the carpenter with all a child's interest and curiosity in his +eyes. + +McCoy looked shoreward, where the land was disappearing in the +thickening haze. + +"I think it would be better to square away for Mangareva. With that +breeze that is coming, you'll be there tomorrow evening." + +"But what if the fire breaks out? It is liable to do it any moment." + +"Have your boats ready in the falls. The same breeze will carry your +boats to Mangareva if the ship burns out from under." + +Captain Davenport debated for a moment, and then McCoy heard the +question he had not wanted to hear, but which he knew was surely coming. + +"I have no chart of Mangareva. On the general chart it is only a fly +speck. I would not know where to look for the entrance into the lagoon. +Will you come along and pilot her in for me?" + +McCoy's serenity was unbroken. + +"Yes, Captain," he said, with the same quiet unconcern with which +he would have accepted an invitation to dinner; "I'll go with you to +Mangareva." + +Again the crew was called aft, and the captain spoke to them from the +break of the poop. + +"We've tried to work her up, but you see how we've lost ground. She's +setting off in a two-knot current. This gentleman is the Honorable +McCoy, Chief Magistrate and Governor of Pitcairn Island. He will +come along with us to Mangareva. So you see the situation is not so +dangerous. He would not make such an offer if he thought he was going +to lose his life. Besides, whatever risk there is, if he of his own free +will come on board and take it, we can do no less. What do you say for +Mangareva?" + +This time there was no uproar. McCoy's presence, the surety and calm +that seemed to radiate from him, had had its effect. They conferred with +one another in low voices. There was little urging. They were virtually +unanimous, and they shoved the Cockney out as their spokesman. That +worthy was overwhelmed with consciousness of the heroism of himself and +his mates, and with flashing eyes he cried: + +"By Gawd! If 'e will, we will!" + +The crew mumbled its assent and started forward. + +"One moment, Captain," McCoy said, as the other was turning to give +orders to the mate. "I must go ashore first." + +Mr. Konig was thunderstruck, staring at McCoy as if he were a madman. + +"Go ashore!" the captain cried. "What for? It will take you three hours +to get there in your canoe." + +McCoy measured the distance of the land away, and nodded. + +"Yes, it is six now. I won't get ashore till nine. The people cannot be +assembled earlier than ten. As the breeze freshens up tonight, you +can begin to work up against it, and pick me up at daylight tomorrow +morning." + +"In the name of reason and common sense," the captain burst forth, "what +do you want to assemble the people for? Don't you realize that my ship +is burning beneath me?" + +McCoy was as placid as a summer sea, and the other's anger produced not +the slightest ripple upon it. + +"Yes, Captain," he cooed in his dove-like voice. "I do realize that your +ship is burning. That is why I am going with you to Mangareva. But I +must get permission to go with you. It is our custom. It is an important +matter when the governor leaves the island. The people's interests +are at stake, and so they have the right to vote their permission or +refusal. But they will give it, I know that." + +"Are you sure?" + +"Quite sure." + +"Then if you know they will give it, why bother with getting it? Think +of the delay--a whole night." + +"It is our custom," was the imperturbable reply. "Also, I am the +governor, and I must make arrangements for the conduct of the island +during my absence." + +"But it is only a twenty-four hour run to Mangareva," the captain +objected. "Suppose it took you six times that long to return to +windward; that would bring you back by the end of a week." + +McCoy smiled his large, benevolent smile. + +"Very few vessels come to Pitcairn, and when they do, they are usually +from San Francisco or from around the Horn. I shall be fortunate if I +get back in six months. I may be away a year, and I may have to go to +San Francisco in order to find a vessel that will bring me back. My +father once left Pitcairn to be gone three months, and two years passed +before he could get back. Then, too, you are short of food. If you have +to take to the boats, and the weather comes up bad, you may be days in +reaching land. I can bring off two canoe loads of food in the morning. +Dried bananas will be best. As the breeze freshens, you beat up against +it. The nearer you are, the bigger loads I can bring off. Goodby." + +He held out his hand. The captain shook it, and was reluctant to let go. +He seemed to cling to it as a drowning sailor clings to a life buoy. + +"How do I know you will come back in the morning?" he asked. + +"Yes, that's it!" cried the mate. "How do we know but what he's skinning +out to save his own hide?" + +McCoy did not speak. He looked at them sweetly and benignantly, and +it seemed to them that they received a message from his tremendous +certitude of soul. + +The captain released his hand, and, with a last sweeping glance that +embraced the crew in its benediction, McCoy went over the rail and +descended into his canoe. + +The wind freshened, and the Pyrenees, despite the foulness of her +bottom, won half a dozen miles away from the westerly current. At +daylight, with Pitcairn three miles to windward, Captain Davenport made +out two canoes coming off to him. Again McCoy clambered up the side and +dropped over the rail to the hot deck. He was followed by many packages +of dried bananas, each package wrapped in dry leaves. + +"Now, Captain," he said, "swing the yards and drive for dear life. You +see, I am no navigator," he explained a few minutes later, as he +stood by the captain aft, the latter with gaze wandering from aloft to +overside as he estimated the Pyrenees' speed. "You must fetch her to +Mangareva. When you have picked up the land, then I will pilot her in. +What do you think she is making?" + +"Eleven," Captain Davenport answered, with a final glance at the water +rushing past. + +"Eleven. Let me see, if she keeps up that gait, we'll sight Mangareva +between eight and nine o'clock tomorrow morning. I'll have her on the +beach by ten or by eleven at latest. And then your troubles will be all +over." + +It almost seemed to the captain that the blissful moment had already +arrived, such was the persuasive convincingness of McCoy. + +Captain Davenport had been under the fearful strain of navigating his +burning ship for over two weeks, and he was beginning to feel that he +had had enough. + +A heavier flaw of wind struck the back of his neck and whistled by his +ears. He measured the weight of it, and looked quickly overside. + +"The wind is making all the time," he announced. "The old girl's +doing nearer twelve than eleven right now. If this keeps up, we'll be +shortening down tonight." + +All day the Pyrenees, carrying her load of living fire, tore across the +foaming sea. By nightfall, royals and topgallantsails were in, and she +flew on into the darkness, with great, crested seas roaring after her. +The auspicious wind had had its effect, and fore and aft a visible +brightening was apparent. In the second dog-watch some careless soul +started a song, and by eight bells the whole crew was singing. + +Captain Davenport had his blankets brought up and spread on top the +house. + +"I've forgotten what sleep is," he explained to McCoy. "I'm all in. But +give me a call at any time you think necessary." + +At three in the morning he was aroused by a gentle tugging at his arm. +He sat up quickly, bracing himself against the skylight, stupid yet from +his heavy sleep. The wind was thrumming its war song in the rigging, and +a wild sea was buffeting the PYRENEES. Amidships she was wallowing first +one rail under and then the other, flooding the waist more often than +not. McCoy was shouting something he could not hear. He reached out, +clutched the other by the shoulder, and drew him close so that his own +ear was close to the other's lips. + +"It's three o'clock," came McCoy's voice, still retaining its dovelike +quality, but curiously muffled, as if from a long way off. "We've +run two hundred and fifty. Crescent Island is only thirty miles away, +somewhere there dead ahead. There's no lights on it. If we keep running, +we'll pile up, and lose ourselves as well as the ship." + +"What d' ye think--heave to?" + +"Yes; heave to till daylight. It will only put us back four hours." + +So the Pyrenees, with her cargo of fire, was hove to, bitting the teeth +of the gale and fighting and smashing the pounding seas. She was a +shell, filled with a conflagration, and on the outside of the shell, +clinging precariously, the little motes of men, by pull and haul, helped +her in the battle. + +"It is most unusual, this gale," McCoy told the captain, in the lee of +the cabin. "By rights there should be no gale at this time of the year. +But everything about the weather has been unusual. There has been a +stoppage of the trades, and now it's howling right out of the trade +quarter." He waved his hand into the darkness, as if his vision could +dimly penetrate for hundreds of miles. "It is off to the westward. There +is something big making off there somewhere--a hurricane or something. +We're lucky to be so far to the eastward. But this is only a little +blow," he added. "It can't last. I can tell you that much." + +By daylight the gale had eased down to normal. But daylight revealed +a new danger. It had come on thick. The sea was covered by a fog, or, +rather, by a pearly mist that was fog-like in density, in so far as it +obstructed vision, but that was no more than a film on the sea, for the +sun shot it through and filled it with a glowing radiance. + +The deck of the Pyrenees was making more smoke than on the preceding +day, and the cheerfulness of officers and crew had vanished. In the lee +of the galley the cabin boy could be heard whimpering. It was his first +voyage, and the fear of death was at his heart. The captain wandered +about like a lost soul, nervously chewing his mustache, scowling, unable +to make up his mind what to do. + +"What do you think?" he asked, pausing by the side of McCoy, who was +making a breakfast off fried bananas and a mug of water. + +McCoy finished the last banana, drained the mug, and looked slowly +around. In his eyes was a smile of tenderness as he said: + +"Well, Captain, we might as well drive as burn. Your decks are not going +to hold out forever. They are hotter this morning. You haven't a pair of +shoes I can wear? It is getting uncomfortable for my bare feet." + +The Pyrenees shipped two heavy seas as she was swung off and put once +more before it, and the first mate expressed a desire to have all that +water down in the hold, if only it could be introduced without taking +off the hatches. McCoy ducked his head into the binnacle and watched the +course set. + +"I'd hold her up some more, Captain," he said. "She's been making drift +when hove to." + +"I've set it to a point higher already," was the answer. "Isn't that +enough?" + +"I'd make it two points, Captain. This bit of a blow kicked that +westerly current ahead faster than you imagine." + +Captain Davenport compromised on a point and a half, and then went +aloft, accompanied by McCoy and the first mate, to keep a lookout for +land. Sail had been made, so that the Pyrenees was doing ten knots. The +following sea was dying down rapidly. There was no break in the pearly +fog, and by ten o'clock Captain Davenport was growing nervous. All hands +were at their stations, ready, at the first warning of land ahead, to +spring like fiends to the task of bringing the Pyrenees up on the wind. +That land ahead, a surf-washed outer reef, would be perilously close +when it revealed itself in such a fog. + +Another hour passed. The three watchers aloft stared intently into the +pearly radiance. "What if we miss Mangareva?" Captain Davenport asked +abruptly. + +McCoy, without shifting his gaze, answered softly: + +"Why, let her drive, captain. That is all we can do. All the Paumotus +are before us. We can drive for a thousand miles through reefs and +atolls. We are bound to fetch up somewhere." + +"Then drive it is." Captain Davenport evidenced his intention of +descending to the deck. "We've missed Mangareva. God knows where +the next land is. I wish I'd held her up that other half-point," he +confessed a moment later. "This cursed current plays the devil with a +navigator." + +"The old navigators called the Paumotus the Dangerous Archipelago," +McCoy said, when they had regained the poop. "This very current was +partly responsible for that name." + +"I was talking with a sailor chap in Sydney, once," said Mr. Konig. +"He'd been trading in the Paumotus. He told me insurance was eighteen +per cent. Is that right?" + +McCoy smiled and nodded. + +"Except that they don't insure," he explained. "The owners write off +twenty per cent of the cost of their schooners each year." + +"My God!" Captain Davenport groaned. "That makes the life of a schooner +only five years!" He shook his head sadly, murmuring, "Bad waters! Bad +waters!" + +Again they went into the cabin to consult the big general chart; but the +poisonous vapors drove them coughing and gasping on deck. + +"Here is Moerenhout Island," Captain Davenport pointed it out on the +chart, which he had spread on the house. "It can't be more than a +hundred miles to leeward." + +"A hundred and ten." McCoy shook his head doubtfully. "It might be done, +but it is very difficult. I might beach her, and then again I might put +her on the reef. A bad place, a very bad place." + +"We'll take the chance," was Captain Davenport's decision, as he set +about working out the course. + +Sail was shortened early in the afternoon, to avoid running past in +the night; and in the second dog-watch the crew manifested its regained +cheerfulness. Land was so very near, and their troubles would be over in +the morning. + +But morning broke clear, with a blazing tropic sun. The southeast trade +had swung around to the eastward, and was driving the PYRENEES through +the water at an eight-knot clip. Captain Davenport worked up his dead +reckoning, allowing generously for drift, and announced Moerenhout +Island to be not more than ten miles off. The Pyrenees sailed the +ten miles; she sailed ten miles more; and the lookouts at the three +mastheads saw naught but the naked, sun-washed sea. + +"But the land is there, I tell you," Captain Davenport shouted to them +from the poop. + +McCoy smiled soothingly, but the captain glared about him like a madman, +fetched his sextant, and took a chronometer sight. + +"I knew I was right," he almost shouted, when he had worked up the +observation. "Twenty-one, fifty-five, south; one-thirty-six, two, west. +There you are. We're eight miles to windward yet. What did you make it +out, Mr. Konig?" + +The first mate glanced at his own figures, and said in a low voice: + +"Twenty-one, fifty-five all right; but my longitude's one-thirty-six, +forty-eight. That puts us considerably to leeward--" + +But Captain Davenport ignored his figures with so contemptuous a silence +as to make Mr. Konig grit his teeth and curse savagely under his breath. + +"Keep her off," the captain ordered the man at the wheel. "Three +points--steady there, as she goes!" + +Then he returned to his figures and worked them over. The sweat poured +from his face. He chewed his mustache, his lips, and his pencil, staring +at the figures as a man might at a ghost. Suddenly, with a fierce, +muscular outburst, he crumpled the scribbled paper in his fist and +crushed it under foot. Mr. Konig grinned vindictively and turned away, +while Captain Davenport leaned against the cabin and for half an +hour spoke no word, contenting himself with gazing to leeward with an +expression of musing hopelessness on his face. + +"Mr. McCoy," he broke silence abruptly. "The chart indicates a group +of islands, but not how many, off there to the north'ard, or +nor'-nor'westward, about forty miles--the Acteon Islands. What about +them?" + +"There are four, all low," McCoy answered. "First to the southeast is +Matuerui--no people, no entrance to the lagoon. Then comes Tenarunga. +There used to be about a dozen people there, but they may be all gone +now. Anyway, there is no entrance for a ship--only a boat entrance, +with a fathom of water. Vehauga and Teua-raro are the other two. No +entrances, no people, very low. There is no bed for the Pyrenees in that +group. She would be a total wreck." + +"Listen to that!" Captain Davenport was frantic. "No people! No +entrances! What in the devil are islands good for? + +"Well, then," he barked suddenly, like an excited terrier, "the chart +gives a whole mess of islands off to the nor'west. What about them? What +one has an entrance where I can lay my ship?" + +McCoy calmly considered. He did not refer to the chart. All these +islands, reefs, shoals, lagoons, entrances, and distances were marked +on the chart of his memory. He knew them as the city dweller knows his +buildings, streets, and alleys. + +"Papakena and Vanavana are off there to the westward, or +west-nor'westward a hundred miles and a bit more," he said. "One is +uninhabited, and I heard that the people on the other had gone off to +Cadmus Island. Anyway, neither lagoon has an entrance. Ahunui is another +hundred miles on to the nor'west. No entrance, no people." + +"Well, forty miles beyond them are two islands?" Captain Davenport +queried, raising his head from the chart. + +McCoy shook his head. + +"Paros and Manuhungi--no entrances, no people. Nengo-Nengo is forty +miles beyond them, in turn, and it has no people and no entrance. But +there is Hao Island. It is just the place. The lagoon is thirty miles +long and five miles wide. There are plenty of people. You can usually +find water. And any ship in the world can go through the entrance." + +He ceased and gazed solicitously at Captain Davenport, who, bending over +the chart with a pair of dividers in hand, had just emitted a low groan. + +"Is there any lagoon with an entrance anywhere nearer than Hao Island?" +he asked. + +"No, Captain; that is the nearest." + +"Well, it's three hundred and forty miles." Captain Davenport was +speaking very slowly, with decision. "I won't risk the responsibility of +all these lives. I'll wreck her on the Acteons. And she's a good ship, +too," he added regretfully, after altering the course, this time making +more allowance than ever for the westerly current. + +An hour later the sky was overcast. The southeast trade still held, but +the ocean was a checker board of squalls. + +"We'll be there by one o'clock," Captain Davenport announced +confidently. "By two o'clock at the outside. McCoy, you put her ashore +on the one where the people are." + +The sun did not appear again, nor, at one o'clock, was any land to be +seen. Captain Davenport looked astern at the Pyrenees' canting wake. + +"Good Lord!" he cried. "An easterly current? Look at that!" + +Mr. Konig was incredulous. McCoy was noncommittal, though he said that +in the Paumotus there was no reason why it should not be an easterly +current. A few minutes later a squall robbed the Pyrenees temporarily of +all her wind, and she was left rolling heavily in the trough. + +"Where's that deep lead? Over with it, you there!" Captain Davenport +held the lead line and watched it sag off to the northeast. "There, look +at that! Take hold of it for yourself." + +McCoy and the mate tried it, and felt the line thrumming and vibrating +savagely to the grip of the tidal stream. + +"A four-knot current," said Mr. Konig. + +"An easterly current instead of a westerly," said Captain "Davenport, +glaring accusingly at McCoy, as if to cast the blame for it upon him. + +"That is one of the reasons, Captain, for insurance being eighteen per +cent in these waters," McCoy answered cheerfully. "You can never tell. +The currents are always changing. There was a man who wrote books, I +forget his name, in the yacht Casco. He missed Takaroa by thirty miles +and fetched Tikei, all because of the shifting currents. You are up to +windward now, and you'd better keep off a few points." + +"But how much has this current set me?" the captain demanded irately. +"How am I to know how much to keep off?" + +"I don't know, Captain," McCoy said with great gentleness. + +The wind returned, and the PYRENEES, her deck smoking and shimmering in +the bright gray light, ran off dead to leeward. Then she worked back, +port tack and starboard tack, crisscrossing her track, combing the sea +for the Acteon Islands, which the masthead lookouts failed to sight. + +Captain Davenport was beside himself. His rage took the form of sullen +silence, and he spent the afternoon in pacing the poop or leaning +against the weather shrouds. At nightfall, without even consulting +McCoy, he squared away and headed into the northwest. Mr. Konig, +surreptitiously consulting chart and binnacle, and McCoy, openly and +innocently consulting the binnacle, knew that they were running for Hao +Island. By midnight the squalls ceased, and the stars came out. Captain +Davenport was cheered by the promise of a clear day. + +"I'll get an observation in the morning," he told McCoy, "though what +my latitude is, is a puzzler. But I'll use the Sumner method, and settle +that. Do you know the Sumner line?" + +And thereupon he explained it in detail to McCoy. + +The day proved clear, the trade blew steadily out of the east, and the +Pyrenees just as steadily logged her nine knots. Both the captain and +mate worked out the position on a Sumner line, and agreed, and at noon +agreed again, and verified the morning sights by the noon sights. + +"Another twenty-four hours and we'll be there," Captain Davenport +assured McCoy. "It's a miracle the way the old girl's decks hold out. +But they can't last. They can't last. Look at them smoke, more and +more every day. Yet it was a tight deck to begin with, fresh-calked in +Frisco. I was surprised when the fire first broke out and we battened +down. Look at that!" + +He broke off to gaze with dropped jaw at a spiral of smoke that coiled +and twisted in the lee of the mizzenmast twenty feet above the deck. + +"Now, how did that get there?" he demanded indignantly. + +Beneath it there was no smoke. Crawling up from the deck, sheltered from +the wind by the mast, by some freak it took form and visibility at that +height. It writhed away from the mast, and for a moment overhung the +captain like some threatening portent. The next moment the wind whisked +it away, and the captain's jaw returned to place. + +"As I was saying, when we first battened down, I was surprised. It was +a tight deck, yet it leaked smoke like a sieve. And we've calked and +calked ever since. There must be tremendous pressure underneath to drive +so much smoke through." + +That afternoon the sky became overcast again, and squally, drizzly +weather set in. The wind shifted back and forth between southeast and +northeast, and at midnight the Pyrenees was caught aback by a sharp +squall from the southwest, from which point the wind continued to blow +intermittently. + +"We won't make Hao until ten or eleven," Captain Davenport complained +at seven in the morning, when the fleeting promise of the sun had been +erased by hazy cloud masses in the eastern sky. And the next moment he +was plaintively demanding, "And what are the currents doing?" + +Lookouts at the mastheads could report no land, and the day passed in +drizzling calms and violent squalls. By nightfall a heavy sea began +to make from the west. The barometer had fallen to 29.50. There was no +wind, and still the ominous sea continued to increase. Soon the +Pyrenees was rolling madly in the huge waves that marched in an unending +procession from out of the darkness of the west. Sail was shortened as +fast as both watches could work, and, when the tired crew had finished, +its grumbling and complaining voices, peculiarly animal-like and +menacing, could be heard in the darkness. Once the starboard watch was +called aft to lash down and make secure, and the men openly advertised +their sullenness and unwillingness. Every slow movement was a protest +and a threat. The atmosphere was moist and sticky like mucilage, and in +the absence of wind all hands seemed to pant and gasp for air. The sweat +stood out on faces and bare arms, and Captain Davenport for one, his +face more gaunt and care-worn than ever, and his eyes troubled and +staring, was oppressed by a feeling of impending calamity. + +"It's off to the westward," McCoy said encouragingly. "At worst, we'll +be only on the edge of it." + +But Captain Davenport refused to be comforted, and by the light of a +lantern read up the chapter in his Epitome that related to the strategy +of shipmasters in cyclonic storms. From somewhere amidships the silence +was broken by a low whimpering from the cabin boy. + +"Oh, shut up!" Captain Davenport yelled suddenly and with such force as +to startle every man on board and to frighten the offender into a wild +wail of terror. + +"Mr. Konig," the captain said in a voice that trembled with rage and +nerves, "will you kindly step for'ard and stop that brat's mouth with a +deck mop?" + +But it was McCoy who went forward, and in a few minutes had the boy +comforted and asleep. + +Shortly before daybreak the first breath of air began to move from out +the southeast, increasing swiftly to a stiff and stiffer breeze. All +hands were on deck waiting for what might be behind it. "We're all +right now, Captain," said McCoy, standing close to his shoulder. "The +hurricane is to the west'ard, and we are south of it. This breeze is the +in-suck. It won't blow any harder. You can begin to put sail on her." + +"But what's the good? Where shall I sail? This is the second day without +observations, and we should have sighted Hao Island yesterday morning. +Which way does it bear, north, south, east, or what? Tell me that, and +I'll make sail in a jiffy." + +"I am no navigator, Captain," McCoy said in his mild way. + +"I used to think I was one," was the retort, "before I got into these +Paumotus." + +At midday the cry of "Breakers ahead!" was heard from the lookout. The +Pyrenees was kept off, and sail after sail was loosed and sheeted home. +The Pyrenees was sliding through the water and fighting a current that +threatened to set her down upon the breakers. Officers and men were +working like mad, cook and cabin boy, Captain Davenport himself, and +McCoy all lending a hand. It was a close shave. It was a low shoal, a +bleak and perilous place over which the seas broke unceasingly, where no +man could live, and on which not even sea birds could rest. The PYRENEES +was swept within a hundred yards of it before the wind carried her +clear, and at this moment the panting crew, its work done, burst out +in a torrent of curses upon the head of McCoy--of McCoy who had come on +board, and proposed the run to Mangareva, and lured them all away from +the safety of Pitcairn Island to certain destruction in this baffling +and terrible stretch of sea. But McCoy's tranquil soul was undisturbed. +He smiled at them with simple and gracious benevolence, and, somehow, +the exalted goodness of him seemed to penetrate to their dark and somber +souls, shaming them, and from very shame stilling the curses vibrating +in their throats. + +"Bad waters! Bad waters!" Captain Davenport was murmuring as his ship +forged clear; but he broke off abruptly to gaze at the shoal which +should have been dead astern, but which was already on the PYRENEES' +weather-quarter and working up rapidly to windward. + +He sat down and buried his face in his hands. And the first mate saw, +and McCoy saw, and the crew saw, what he had seen. South of the shoal +an easterly current had set them down upon it; north of the shoal an +equally swift westerly current had clutched the ship and was sweeping +her away. + +"I've heard of these Paumotus before," the captain groaned, lifting +his blanched face from his hands. "Captain Moyendale told me about them +after losing his ship on them. And I laughed at him behind his back. God +forgive me, I laughed at him. What shoal is that?" he broke off, to ask +McCoy. + +"I don't know, Captain." + +"Why don't you know?" + +"Because I never saw it before, and because I have never heard of it. I +do know that it is not charted. These waters have never been thoroughly +surveyed." + +"Then you don't know where we are?" + +"No more than you do," McCoy said gently. + +At four in the afternoon cocoanut trees were sighted, apparently growing +out of the water. A little later the low land of an atoll was raised +above the sea. + +"I know where we are now, Captain." McCoy lowered the glasses from his +eyes. "That's Resolution Island. We are forty miles beyond Hao Island, +and the wind is in our teeth." + +"Get ready to beach her then. Where's the entrance?" + +"There's only a canoe passage. But now that we know where we are, we can +run for Barclay de Tolley. It is only one hundred and twenty miles +from here, due nor'-nor'west. With this breeze we can be there by nine +o'clock tomorrow morning." + +Captain Davenport consulted the chart and debated with himself. + +"If we wreck her here," McCoy added, "we'd have to make the run to +Barclay de Tolley in the boats just the same." + +The captain gave his orders, and once more the Pyrenees swung off for +another run across the inhospitable sea. + +And the middle of the next afternoon saw despair and mutiny on her +smoking deck. The current had accelerated, the wind had slackened, and +the Pyrenees had sagged off to the west. The lookout sighted Barclay de +Tolley to the eastward, barely visible from the masthead, and vainly and +for hours the PYRENEES tried to beat up to it. Ever, like a mirage, the +cocoanut trees hovered on the horizon, visible only from the masthead. +From the deck they were hidden by the bulge of the world. + +Again Captain Davenport consulted McCoy and the chart. Makemo lay +seventy-five miles to the southwest. Its lagoon was thirty miles long, +and its entrance was excellent. When Captain Davenport gave his orders, +the crew refused duty. They announced that they had had enough of hell +fire under their feet. There was the land. What if the ship could not +make it? They could make it in the boats. Let her burn, then. Their +lives amounted to something to them. They had served faithfully the +ship, now they were going to serve themselves. + +They sprang to the boats, brushing the second and third mates out of the +way, and proceeded to swing the boats out and to prepare to lower away. +Captain Davenport and the first mate, revolvers in hand, were advancing +to the break of the poop, when McCoy, who had climbed on top of the +cabin, began to speak. + +He spoke to the sailors, and at the first sound of his dovelike, +cooing voice they paused to hear. He extended to them his own ineffable +serenity and peace. His soft voice and simple thoughts flowed out +to them in a magic stream, soothing them against their wills. Long +forgotten things came back to them, and some remembered lullaby songs of +childhood and the content and rest of the mother's arm at the end of the +day. There was no more trouble, no more danger, no more irk, in all +the world. Everything was as it should be, and it was only a matter of +course that they should turn their backs upon the land and put to sea +once more with hell fire hot beneath their feet. + +McCoy spoke simply; but it was not what he spoke. It was his personality +that spoke more eloquently than any word he could utter. It was an +alchemy of soul occultly subtile and profoundly deep--a mysterious +emanation of the spirit, seductive, sweetly humble, and terribly +imperious. It was illumination in the dark crypts of their souls, a +compulsion of purity and gentleness vastly greater than that which +resided in the shining, death-spitting revolvers of the officers. + +The men wavered reluctantly where they stood, and those who had loosed +the turns made them fast again. Then one, and then another, and then all +of them, began to sidle awkwardly away. + +McCoy's face was beaming with childlike pleasure as he descended from +the top of the cabin. There was no trouble. For that matter there had +been no trouble averted. There never had been any trouble, for there was +no place for such in the blissful world in which he lived. + +"You hypnotized em," Mr. Konig grinned at him, speaking in a low voice. + +"Those boys are good," was the answer. "Their hearts are good. They have +had a hard time, and they have worked hard, and they will work hard to +the end." + +Mr. Konig had not time to reply. His voice was ringing out orders, the +sailors were springing to obey, and the PYRENEES was paying slowly off +from the wind until her bow should point in the direction of Makemo. + +The wind was very light, and after sundown almost ceased. It was +insufferably warm, and fore and aft men sought vainly to sleep. The deck +was too hot to lie upon, and poisonous vapors, oozing through the seams, +crept like evil spirits over the ship, stealing into the nostrils and +windpipes of the unwary and causing fits of sneezing and coughing. +The stars blinked lazily in the dim vault overhead; and the full moon, +rising in the east, touched with its light the myriads of wisps and +threads and spidery films of smoke that intertwined and writhed and +twisted along the deck, over the rails, and up the masts and shrouds. + +"Tell me," Captain Davenport said, rubbing his smarting eyes, "what +happened with that BOUNTY crowd after they reached Pitcairn? The account +I read said they burnt the Bounty, and that they were not discovered +until many years later. But what happened in the meantime? I've always +been curious to know. They were men with their necks in the rope. There +were some native men, too. And then there were women. That made it look +like trouble right from the jump." + +"There was trouble," McCoy answered. "They were bad men. They quarreled +about the women right away. One of the mutineers, Williams, lost his +wife. All the women were Tahitian women. His wife fell from the cliffs +when hunting sea birds. Then he took the wife of one of the native men +away from him. All the native men were made very angry by this, and they +killed off nearly all the mutineers. Then the mutineers that escaped +killed off all the native men. The women helped. And the natives killed +each other. Everybody killed everybody. They were terrible men. + +"Timiti was killed by two other natives while they were combing his hair +in friendship. The white men had sent them to do it. Then the white +men killed them. The wife of Tullaloo killed him in a cave because she +wanted a white man for husband. They were very wicked. God had hidden +His face from them. At the end of two years all the native men were +murdered, and all the white men except four. They were Young, John +Adams, McCoy, who was my great-grandfather, and Quintal. He was a very +bad man, too. Once, just because his wife did not catch enough fish for +him, he bit off her ear." + +"They were a bad lot!" Mr. Konig exclaimed. + +"Yes, they were very bad," McCoy agreed and went on serenely cooing of +the blood and lust of his iniquitous ancestry. "My great-grandfather +escaped murder in order to die by his own hand. He made a still and +manufactured alcohol from the roots of the ti-plant. Quintal was his +chum, and they got drunk together all the time. At last McCoy got +delirium tremens, tied a rock to his neck, and jumped into the sea. + +"Quintal's wife, the one whose ear he bit off, also got killed by +falling from the cliffs. Then Quintal went to Young and demanded his +wife, and went to Adams and demanded his wife. Adams and Young were +afraid of Quintal. They knew he would kill them. So they killed him, +the two of them together, with a hatchet. Then Young died. And that was +about all the trouble they had." + +"I should say so," Captain Davenport snorted. "There was nobody left to +kill." + +"You see, God had hidden His face," McCoy said. + +By morning no more than a faint air was blowing from the eastward, and, +unable to make appreciable southing by it, Captain Davenport hauled up +full-and-by on the port track. He was afraid of that terrible westerly +current which had cheated him out of so many ports of refuge. All day +the calm continued, and all night, while the sailors, on a short ration +of dried banana, were grumbling. Also, they were growing weak and +complaining of stomach pains caused by the straight banana diet. All day +the current swept the PYRENEES to the westward, while there was no wind +to bear her south. In the middle of the first dogwatch, cocoanut trees +were sighted due south, their tufted heads rising above the water and +marking the low-lying atoll beneath. + +"That is Taenga Island," McCoy said. "We need a breeze tonight, or else +we'll miss Makemo." + +"What's become of the southeast trade?" the captain demanded. "Why don't +it blow? What's the matter?" + +"It is the evaporation from the big lagoons--there are so many of them," +McCoy explained. "The evaporation upsets the whole system of trades. It +even causes the wind to back up and blow gales from the southwest. This +is the Dangerous Archipelago, Captain." + +Captain Davenport faced the old man, opened his mouth, and was about to +curse, but paused and refrained. McCoy's presence was a rebuke to +the blasphemies that stirred in his brain and trembled in his larynx. +McCoy's influence had been growing during the many days they had been +together. Captain Davenport was an autocrat of the sea, fearing no man, +never bridling his tongue, and now he found himself unable to curse in +the presence of this old man with the feminine brown eyes and the +voice of a dove. When he realized this, Captain Davenport experienced a +distinct shock. This old man was merely the seed of McCoy, of McCoy +of the BOUNTY, the mutineer fleeing from the hemp that waited him in +England, the McCoy who was a power for evil in the early days of blood +and lust and violent death on Pitcairn Island. + +Captain Davenport was not religious, yet in that moment he felt a mad +impulse to cast himself at the other's feet--and to say he knew not +what. It was an emotion that so deeply stirred him, rather than +a coherent thought, and he was aware in some vague way of his own +unworthiness and smallness in the presence of this other man who +possessed the simplicity of a child and the gentleness of a woman. + +Of course he could not so humble himself before the eyes of his officers +and men. And yet the anger that had prompted the blasphemy still raged +in him. He suddenly smote the cabin with his clenched hand and cried: + +"Look here, old man, I won't be beaten. These Paumotus have cheated and +tricked me and made a fool of me. I refuse to be beaten. I am going +to drive this ship, and drive and drive and drive clear through the +Paumotus to China but what I find a bed for her. If every man deserts, +I'll stay by her. I'll show the Paumotus. They can't fool me. She's a +good girl, and I'll stick by her as long as there's a plank to stand on. +You hear me?" + +"And I'll stay with you, Captain," McCoy said. + +During the night, light, baffling airs blew out of the south, and +the frantic captain, with his cargo of fire, watched and measured his +westward drift and went off by himself at times to curse softly so that +McCoy should not hear. + +Daylight showed more palms growing out of the water to the south. + +"That's the leeward point of Makemo," McCoy said. "Katiu is only a few +miles to the west. We may make that." + +But the current, sucking between the two islands, swept them to the +northwest, and at one in the afternoon they saw the palms of Katiu rise +above the sea and sink back into the sea again. + +A few minutes later, just as the captain had discovered that a new +current from the northeast had gripped the Pyrenees, the masthead +lookouts raised cocoanut palms in the northwest. + +"It is Raraka," said McCoy. "We won't make it without wind. The current +is drawing us down to the southwest. But we must watch out. A few miles +farther on a current flows north and turns in a circle to the northwest. +This will sweep us away from Fakarava, and Fakarava is the place for the +Pyrenees to find her bed." + +"They can sweep all they da--all they well please," Captain Davenport +remarked with heat. "We'll find a bed for her somewhere just the same." + +But the situation on the Pyrenees was reaching a culmination. The deck +was so hot that it seemed an increase of a few degrees would cause it to +burst into flames. In many places even the heavy-soled shoes of the +men were no protection, and they were compelled to step lively to avoid +scorching their feet. The smoke had increased and grown more acrid. +Every man on board was suffering from inflamed eyes, and they coughed +and strangled like a crew of tuberculosis patients. In the afternoon the +boats were swung out and equipped. The last several packages of dried +bananas were stored in them, as well as the instruments of the officers. +Captain Davenport even put the chronometer into the longboat, fearing +the blowing up of the deck at any moment. + +All night this apprehension weighed heavily on all, and in the first +morning light, with hollow eyes and ghastly faces, they stared at one +another as if in surprise that the Pyrenees still held together and that +they still were alive. + +Walking rapidly at times, and even occasionally breaking into an +undignified hop-skip-and-run, Captain Davenport inspected his ship's +deck. + +"It is a matter of hours now, if not of minutes," he announced on his +return to the poop. + +The cry of land came down from the masthead. From the deck the land was +invisible, and McCoy went aloft, while the captain took advantage of the +opportunity to curse some of the bitterness out of his heart. But +the cursing was suddenly stopped by a dark line on the water which he +sighted to the northeast. It was not a squall, but a regular breeze--the +disrupted trade wind, eight points out of its direction but resuming +business once more. + +"Hold her up, Captain," McCoy said as soon as he reached the poop. +"That's the easterly point of Fakarava, and we'll go in through the +passage full-tilt, the wind abeam, and every sail drawing." + +At the end of an hour, the cocoanut trees and the low-lying land +were visible from the deck. The feeling that the end of the PYRENEES' +resistance was imminent weighed heavily on everybody. Captain Davenport +had the three boats lowered and dropped short astern, a man in each +to keep them apart. The Pyrenees closely skirted the shore, the +surf-whitened atoll a bare two cable lengths away. + +And a minute later the land parted, exposing a narrow passage and the +lagoon beyond, a great mirror, thirty miles in length and a third as +broad. + +"Now, Captain." + +For the last time the yards of the Pyrenees swung around as she obeyed +the wheel and headed into the passage. The turns had scarcely been made, +and nothing had been coiled down, when the men and mates swept back to +the poop in panic terror. Nothing had happened, yet they averred that +something was going to happen. They could not tell why. They merely +knew that it was about to happen. McCoy started forward to take up +his position on the bow in order to con the vessel in; but the captain +gripped his arm and whirled him around. + +"Do it from here," he said. "That deck's not safe. What's the matter?" +he demanded the next instant. "We're standing still." + +McCoy smiled. + +"You are bucking a seven-knot current, Captain," he said. "That is the +way the full ebb runs out of this passage." + +At the end of another hour the Pyrenees had scarcely gained her length, +but the wind freshened and she began to forge ahead. + +"Better get into the boats, some of you," Captain Davenport commanded. + +His voice was still ringing, and the men were just beginning to move in +obedience, when the amidship deck of the Pyrenees, in a mass of flame +and smoke, was flung upward into the sails and rigging, part of it +remaining there and the rest falling into the sea. The wind being abeam, +was what had saved the men crowded aft. They made a blind rush to gain +the boats, but McCoy's voice, carrying its convincing message of vast +calm and endless time, stopped them. + +"Take it easy," he was saying. "Everything is all right. Pass that boy +down somebody, please." + +The man at the wheel had forsaken it in a funk, and Captain Davenport +had leaped and caught the spokes in time to prevent the ship from yawing +in the current and going ashore. + +"Better take charge of the boats," he said to Mr. Konig. "Tow one of +them short, right under the quarter.... When I go over, it'll be on the +jump." + +Mr. Konig hesitated, then went over the rail and lowered himself into +the boat. + +"Keep her off half a point, Captain." + +Captain Davenport gave a start. He had thought he had the ship to +himself. + +"Ay, ay; half a point it is," he answered. + +Amidships the Pyrenees was an open flaming furnace, out of which +poured an immense volume of smoke which rose high above the masts and +completely hid the forward part of the ship. McCoy, in the shelter of +the mizzen-shrouds, continued his difficult task of conning the ship +through the intricate channel. The fire was working aft along the deck +from the seat of explosion, while the soaring tower of canvas on the +mainmast went up and vanished in a sheet of flame. Forward, though they +could not see them, they knew that the head-sails were still drawing. + +"If only she don't burn all her canvas off before she makes inside," the +captain groaned. + +"She'll make it," McCoy assured him with supreme confidence. "There is +plenty of time. She is bound to make it. And once inside, we'll put her +before it; that will keep the smoke away from us and hold back the fire +from working aft." + +A tongue of flame sprang up the mizzen, reached hungrily for the lowest +tier of canvas, missed it, and vanished. From aloft a burning shred of +rope stuff fell square on the back of Captain Davenport's neck. He acted +with the celerity of one stung by a bee as he reached up and brushed the +offending fire from his skin. + +"How is she heading, Captain?" + +"Nor'west by west." + +"Keep her west-nor-west." + +Captain Davenport put the wheel up and steadied her. + +"West by north, Captain." + +"West by north she is." + +"And now west." + +Slowly, point by point, as she entered the lagoon, the PYRENEES +described the circle that put her before the wind; and point by point, +with all the calm certitude of a thousand years of time to spare, McCoy +chanted the changing course. + +"Another point, Captain." + +"A point it is." + +Captain Davenport whirled several spokes over, suddenly reversing and +coming back one to check her. + +"Steady." + +"Steady she is--right on it." + +Despite the fact that the wind was now astern, the heat was so intense +that Captain Davenport was compelled to steal sidelong glances into the +binnacle, letting go the wheel now with one hand, now with the other, to +rub or shield his blistering cheeks. + +McCoy's beard was crinkling and shriveling and the smell of it, strong +in the other's nostrils, compelled him to look toward McCoy with sudden +solicitude. Captain Davenport was letting go the spokes alternately with +his hands in order to rub their blistering backs against his trousers. +Every sail on the mizzenmast vanished in a rush of flame, compelling the +two men to crouch and shield their faces. + +"Now," said McCoy, stealing a glance ahead at the low shore, "four +points up, Captain, and let her drive." + +Shreds and patches of burning rope and canvas were falling about them +and upon them. The tarry smoke from a smouldering piece of rope at the +captain's feet set him off into a violent coughing fit, during which he +still clung to the spokes. + +The Pyrenees struck, her bow lifted and she ground ahead gently to a +stop. A shower of burning fragments, dislodged by the shock, fell about +them. The ship moved ahead again and struck a second time. She crushed +the fragile coral under her keel, drove on, and struck a third time. + +"Hard over," said McCoy. "Hard over?" he questioned gently, a minute +later. + +"She won't answer," was the reply. + +"All right. She is swinging around." McCoy peered over the side. "Soft, +white sand. Couldn't ask better. A beautiful bed." + +As the Pyrenees swung around her stern away from the wind, a fearful +blast of smoke and flame poured aft. Captain Davenport deserted the +wheel in blistering agony. He reached the painter of the boat that lay +under the quarter, then looked for McCoy, who was standing aside to let +him go down. + +"You first," the captain cried, gripping him by the shoulder and almost +throwing him over the rail. But the flame and smoke were too terrible, +and he followed hard after McCoy, both men wriggling on the rope and +sliding down into the boat together. A sailor in the bow, without +waiting for orders, slashed the painter through with his sheath knife. +The oars, poised in readiness, bit into the water, and the boat shot +away. + +"A beautiful bed, Captain," McCoy murmured, looking back. + +"Ay, a beautiful bed, and all thanks to you," was the answer. + +The three boats pulled away for the white beach of pounded coral, beyond +which, on the edge of a cocoanut grove, could be seen a half dozen grass +houses and a score or more of excited natives, gazing wide-eyed at the +conflagration that had come to land. + +The boats grounded and they stepped out on the white beach. + +"And now," said McCoy, "I must see about getting back to Pitcairn." + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of South Sea Tales, by Jack London + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOUTH SEA TALES *** + +***** This file should be named 1208-8.txt or 1208-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/0/1208/ + +Produced by Theresa Armao + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: South Sea Tales + +Author: Jack London + +Release Date: November 8, 2009 [EBook #1208] +Last Updated: March 3, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOUTH SEA TALES *** + + + + +Produced by Theresa Armao, and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + SOUTH SEA TALES + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Jack London + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> THE HOUSE OF MAPUHI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> THE WHALE TOOTH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> MAUKI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> “YAH! YAH! YAH!” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> THE HEATHEN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> THE TERRIBLE SOLOMONS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> THE INEVITABLE WHITE MAN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> THE SEED OF McCOY </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + THE HOUSE OF MAPUHI + </h2> + <p> + Despite the heavy clumsiness of her lines, the Aorai handled easily in the + light breeze, and her captain ran her well in before he hove to just + outside the suck of the surf. The atoll of Hikueru lay low on the water, a + circle of pounded coral sand a hundred yards wide, twenty miles in + circumference, and from three to five feet above high-water mark. On the + bottom of the huge and glassy lagoon was much pearl shell, and from the + deck of the schooner, across the slender ring of the atoll, the divers + could be seen at work. But the lagoon had no entrance for even a trading + schooner. With a favoring breeze cutters could win in through the tortuous + and shallow channel, but the schooners lay off and on outside and sent in + their small boats. + </p> + <p> + The Aorai swung out a boat smartly, into which sprang half a dozen + brown-skinned sailors clad only in scarlet loincloths. They took the oars, + while in the stern sheets, at the steering sweep, stood a young man garbed + in the tropic white that marks the European. The golden strain of + Polynesia betrayed itself in the sun-gilt of his fair skin and cast up + golden sheens and lights through the glimmering blue of his eyes. Raoul he + was, Alexandre Raoul, youngest son of Marie Raoul, the wealthy + quarter-caste, who owned and managed half a dozen trading schooners + similar to the Aorai. Across an eddy just outside the entrance, and in and + through and over a boiling tide-rip, the boat fought its way to the + mirrored calm of the lagoon. Young Raoul leaped out upon the white sand + and shook hands with a tall native. The man's chest and shoulders were + magnificent, but the stump of a right arm, beyond the flesh of which the + age-whitened bone projected several inches, attested the encounter with a + shark that had put an end to his diving days and made him a fawner and an + intriguer for small favors. + </p> + <p> + “Have you heard, Alec?” were his first words. “Mapuhi has found a pearl—such + a pearl. Never was there one like it ever fished up in Hikueru, nor in all + the Paumotus, nor in all the world. Buy it from him. He has it now. And + remember that I told you first. He is a fool and you can get it cheap. + Have you any tobacco?” + </p> + <p> + Straight up the beach to a shack under a pandanus tree Raoul headed. He + was his mother's supercargo, and his business was to comb all the Paumotus + for the wealth of copra, shell, and pearls that they yielded up. + </p> + <p> + He was a young supercargo, it was his second voyage in such capacity, and + he suffered much secret worry from his lack of experience in pricing + pearls. But when Mapuhi exposed the pearl to his sight he managed to + suppress the startle it gave him, and to maintain a careless, commercial + expression on his face. For the pearl had struck him a blow. It was large + as a pigeon egg, a perfect sphere, of a whiteness that reflected + opalescent lights from all colors about it. It was alive. Never had he + seen anything like it. When Mapuhi dropped it into his hand he was + surprised by the weight of it. That showed that it was a good pearl. He + examined it closely, through a pocket magnifying glass. It was without + flaw or blemish. The purity of it seemed almost to melt into the + atmosphere out of his hand. In the shade it was softly luminous, gleaming + like a tender moon. So translucently white was it, that when he dropped it + into a glass of water he had difficulty in finding it. So straight and + swiftly had it sunk to the bottom that he knew its weight was excellent. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what do you want for it?” he asked, with a fine assumption of + nonchalance. + </p> + <p> + “I want—” Mapuhi began, and behind him, framing his own dark face, + the dark faces of two women and a girl nodded concurrence in what he + wanted. Their heads were bent forward, they were animated by a suppressed + eagerness, their eyes flashed avariciously. + </p> + <p> + “I want a house,” Mapuhi went on. “It must have a roof of galvanized iron + and an octagon-drop-clock. It must be six fathoms long with a porch all + around. A big room must be in the centre, with a round table in the middle + of it and the octagon-drop-clock on the wall. There must be four bedrooms, + two on each side of the big room, and in each bedroom must be an iron bed, + two chairs, and a washstand. And back of the house must be a kitchen, a + good kitchen, with pots and pans and a stove. And you must build the house + on my island, which is Fakarava.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that all?” Raoul asked incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “There must be a sewing machine,” spoke up Tefara, Mapuhi's wife. + </p> + <p> + “Not forgetting the octagon-drop-clock,” added Nauri, Mapuhi's mother. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is all,” said Mapuhi. + </p> + <p> + Young Raoul laughed. He laughed long and heartily. But while he laughed he + secretly performed problems in mental arithmetic. He had never built a + house in his life, and his notions concerning house building were hazy. + While he laughed, he calculated the cost of the voyage to Tahiti for + materials, of the materials themselves, of the voyage back again to + Fakarava, and the cost of landing the materials and of building the house. + It would come to four thousand French dollars, allowing a margin for + safety—four thousand French dollars were equivalent to twenty + thousand francs. It was impossible. How was he to know the value of such a + pearl? Twenty thousand francs was a lot of money—and of his mother's + money at that. + </p> + <p> + “Mapuhi,” he said, “you are a big fool. Set a money price.” + </p> + <p> + But Mapuhi shook his head, and the three heads behind him shook with his. + </p> + <p> + “I want the house,” he said. “It must be six fathoms long with a porch all + around—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” Raoul interrupted. “I know all about your house, but it won't + do. I'll give you a thousand Chili dollars.” + </p> + <p> + The four heads chorused a silent negative. + </p> + <p> + “And a hundred Chili dollars in trade.” + </p> + <p> + “I want the house,” Mapuhi began. + </p> + <p> + “What good will the house do you?” Raoul demanded. “The first hurricane + that comes along will wash it away. You ought to know.” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Raffy says it looks like a hurricane right now.” + </p> + <p> + “Not on Fakarava,” said Mapuhi. “The land is much higher there. On this + island, yes. Any hurricane can sweep Hikueru. I will have the house on + Fakarava. It must be six fathoms long with a porch all around—” + </p> + <p> + And Raoul listened again to the tale of the house. Several hours he spent + in the endeavor to hammer the house obsession out of Mapuhi's mind; but + Mapuhi's mother and wife, and Ngakura, Mapuhi's daughter, bolstered him in + his resolve for the house. Through the open doorway, while he listened for + the twentieth time to the detailed description of the house that was + wanted, Raoul saw his schooner's second boat draw up on the beach. The + sailors rested on the oars, advertising haste to be gone. The first mate + of the Aorai sprang ashore, exchanged a word with the one-armed native, + then hurried toward Raoul. The day grew suddenly dark, as a squall + obscured the face of the sun. Across the lagoon Raoul could see + approaching the ominous line of the puff of wind. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Raffy says you've got to get to hell outa here,” was the mate's + greeting. “If there's any shell, we've got to run the risk of picking it + up later on—so he says. The barometer's dropped to + twenty-nine-seventy.” + </p> + <p> + The gust of wind struck the pandanus tree overhead and tore through the + palms beyond, flinging half a dozen ripe cocoanuts with heavy thuds to the + ground. Then came the rain out of the distance, advancing with the roar of + a gale of wind and causing the water of the lagoon to smoke in driven + windrows. The sharp rattle of the first drops was on the leaves when Raoul + sprang to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “A thousand Chili dollars, cash down, Mapuhi,” he said. “And two hundred + Chili dollars in trade.” + </p> + <p> + “I want a house—” the other began. + </p> + <p> + “Mapuhi!” Raoul yelled, in order to make himself heard. “You are a fool!” + </p> + <p> + He flung out of the house, and, side by side with the mate, fought his way + down the beach toward the boat. They could not see the boat. The tropic + rain sheeted about them so that they could see only the beach under their + feet and the spiteful little waves from the lagoon that snapped and bit at + the sand. A figure appeared through the deluge. It was Huru-Huru, the man + with the one arm. + </p> + <p> + “Did you get the pearl?” he yelled in Raoul's ear. + </p> + <p> + “Mapuhi is a fool!” was the answering yell, and the next moment they were + lost to each other in the descending water. + </p> + <p> + Half an hour later, Huru-Huru, watching from the seaward side of the + atoll, saw the two boats hoisted in and the Aorai pointing her nose out to + sea. And near her, just come in from the sea on the wings of the squall, + he saw another schooner hove to and dropping a boat into the water. He + knew her. It was the OROHENA, owned by Toriki, the half-caste trader, who + served as his own supercargo and who doubtlessly was even then in the + stern sheets of the boat. Huru-Huru chuckled. He knew that Mapuhi owed + Toriki for trade goods advanced the year before. + </p> + <p> + The squall had passed. The hot sun was blazing down, and the lagoon was + once more a mirror. But the air was sticky like mucilage, and the weight + of it seemed to burden the lungs and make breathing difficult. + </p> + <p> + “Have you heard the news, Toriki?” Huru-Huru asked. “Mapuhi has found a + pearl. Never was there a pearl like it ever fished up in Hikueru, nor + anywhere in the Paumotus, nor anywhere in all the world. Mapuhi is a fool. + Besides, he owes you money. Remember that I told you first. Have you any + tobacco?” + </p> + <p> + And to the grass shack of Mapuhi went Toriki. He was a masterful man, + withal a fairly stupid one. Carelessly he glanced at the wonderful pearl—glanced + for a moment only; and carelessly he dropped it into his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “You are lucky,” he said. “It is a nice pearl. I will give you credit on + the books.” + </p> + <p> + “I want a house,” Mapuhi began, in consternation. “It must be six fathoms—” + </p> + <p> + “Six fathoms your grandmother!” was the trader's retort. “You want to pay + up your debts, that's what you want. You owed me twelve hundred dollars + Chili. Very well; you owe them no longer. The amount is squared. Besides, + I will give you credit for two hundred Chili. If, when I get to Tahiti, + the pearl sells well, I will give you credit for another hundred—that + will make three hundred. But mind, only if the pearl sells well. I may + even lose money on it.” + </p> + <p> + Mapuhi folded his arms in sorrow and sat with bowed head. He had been + robbed of his pearl. In place of the house, he had paid a debt. There was + nothing to show for the pearl. + </p> + <p> + “You are a fool,” said Tefara. + </p> + <p> + “You are a fool,” said Nauri, his mother. “Why did you let the pearl into + his hand?” + </p> + <p> + “What was I to do?” Mapuhi protested. “I owed him the money. He knew I had + the pearl. You heard him yourself ask to see it. I had not told him. He + knew. Somebody else told him. And I owed him the money.” + </p> + <p> + “Mapuhi is a fool,” mimicked Ngakura. + </p> + <p> + She was twelve years old and did not know any better. Mapuhi relieved his + feelings by sending her reeling from a box on the ear; while Tefara and + Nauri burst into tears and continued to upbraid him after the manner of + women. + </p> + <p> + Huru-Huru, watching on the beach, saw a third schooner that he knew heave + to outside the entrance and drop a boat. It was the Hira, well named, for + she was owned by Levy, the German Jew, the greatest pearl buyer of them + all, and, as was well known, Hira was the Tahitian god of fishermen and + thieves. + </p> + <p> + “Have you heard the news?” Huru-Huru asked, as Levy, a fat man with + massive asymmetrical features, stepped out upon the beach. “Mapuhi has + found a pearl. There was never a pearl like it in Hikueru, in all the + Paumotus, in all the world. Mapuhi is a fool. He has sold it to Toriki for + fourteen hundred Chili—I listened outside and heard. Toriki is + likewise a fool. You can buy it from him cheap. Remember that I told you + first. Have you any tobacco?” + </p> + <p> + “Where is Toriki?” + </p> + <p> + “In the house of Captain Lynch, drinking absinthe. He has been there an + hour.” + </p> + <p> + And while Levy and Toriki drank absinthe and chaffered over the pearl, + Huru-Huru listened and heard the stupendous price of twenty-five thousand + francs agreed upon. + </p> + <p> + It was at this time that both the OROHENA and the Hira, running in close + to the shore, began firing guns and signalling frantically. The three men + stepped outside in time to see the two schooners go hastily about and head + off shore, dropping mainsails and flying jibs on the run in the teeth of + the squall that heeled them far over on the whitened water. Then the rain + blotted them out. + </p> + <p> + “They'll be back after it's over,” said Toriki. “We'd better be getting + out of here.” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon the glass has fallen some more,” said Captain Lynch. + </p> + <p> + He was a white-bearded sea-captain, too old for service, who had learned + that the only way to live on comfortable terms with his asthma was on + Hikueru. He went inside to look at the barometer. + </p> + <p> + “Great God!” they heard him exclaim, and rushed in to join him at staring + at a dial, which marked twenty-nine-twenty. + </p> + <p> + Again they came out, this time anxiously to consult sea and sky. The + squall had cleared away, but the sky remained overcast. The two schooners, + under all sail and joined by a third, could be seen making back. A veer in + the wind induced them to slack off sheets, and five minutes afterward a + sudden veer from the opposite quarter caught all three schooners aback, + and those on shore could see the boom-tackles being slacked away or cast + off on the jump. The sound of the surf was loud, hollow, and menacing, and + a heavy swell was setting in. A terrible sheet of lightning burst before + their eyes, illuminating the dark day, and the thunder rolled wildly about + them. + </p> + <p> + Toriki and Levy broke into a run for their boats, the latter ambling along + like a panic-stricken hippopotamus. As their two boats swept out the + entrance, they passed the boat of the Aorai coming in. In the stern + sheets, encouraging the rowers, was Raoul. Unable to shake the vision of + the pearl from his mind, he was returning to accept Mapuhi's price of a + house. + </p> + <p> + He landed on the beach in the midst of a driving thunder squall that was + so dense that he collided with Huru-Huru before he saw him. + </p> + <p> + “Too late,” yelled Huru-Huru. “Mapuhi sold it to Toriki for fourteen + hundred Chili, and Toriki sold it to Levy for twenty-five thousand francs. + And Levy will sell it in France for a hundred thousand francs. Have you + any tobacco?” + </p> + <p> + Raoul felt relieved. His troubles about the pearl were over. He need not + worry any more, even if he had not got the pearl. But he did not believe + Huru-Huru. Mapuhi might well have sold it for fourteen hundred Chili, but + that Levy, who knew pearls, should have paid twenty-five thousand francs + was too wide a stretch. Raoul decided to interview Captain Lynch on the + subject, but when he arrived at that ancient mariner's house, he found him + looking wide-eyed at the barometer. + </p> + <p> + “What do you read it?” Captain Lynch asked anxiously, rubbing his + spectacles and staring again at the instrument. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-nine-ten,” said Raoul. “I have never seen it so low before.” + </p> + <p> + “I should say not!” snorted the captain. “Fifty years boy and man on all + the seas, and I've never seen it go down to that. Listen!” + </p> + <p> + They stood for a moment, while the surf rumbled and shook the house. Then + they went outside. The squall had passed. They could see the Aorai lying + becalmed a mile away and pitching and tossing madly in the tremendous seas + that rolled in stately procession down out of the northeast and flung + themselves furiously upon the coral shore. One of the sailors from the + boat pointed at the mouth of the passage and shook his head. Raoul looked + and saw a white anarchy of foam and surge. + </p> + <p> + “I guess I'll stay with you tonight, Captain,” he said; then turned to the + sailor and told him to haul the boat out and to find shelter for himself + and fellows. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-nine flat,” Captain Lynch reported, coming out from another look + at the barometer, a chair in his hand. + </p> + <p> + He sat down and stared at the spectacle of the sea. The sun came out, + increasing the sultriness of the day, while the dead calm still held. The + seas continued to increase in magnitude. + </p> + <p> + “What makes that sea is what gets me,” Raoul muttered petulantly. + </p> + <p> + “There is no wind, yet look at it, look at that fellow there!” + </p> + <p> + Miles in length, carrying tens of thousands of tons in weight, its impact + shook the frail atoll like an earthquake. Captain Lynch was startled. + </p> + <p> + “Gracious!” he bellowed, half rising from his chair, then sinking back. + </p> + <p> + “But there is no wind,” Raoul persisted. “I could understand it if there + was wind along with it.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll get the wind soon enough without worryin' for it,” was the grim + reply. + </p> + <p> + The two men sat on in silence. The sweat stood out on their skin in + myriads of tiny drops that ran together, forming blotches of moisture, + which, in turn, coalesced into rivulets that dripped to the ground. They + panted for breath, the old man's efforts being especially painful. A sea + swept up the beach, licking around the trunks of the cocoanuts and + subsiding almost at their feet. + </p> + <p> + “Way past high water mark,” Captain Lynch remarked; “and I've been here + eleven years.” He looked at his watch. “It is three o'clock.” + </p> + <p> + A man and woman, at their heels a motley following of brats and curs, + trailed disconsolately by. They came to a halt beyond the house, and, + after much irresolution, sat down in the sand. A few minutes later another + family trailed in from the opposite direction, the men and women carrying + a heterogeneous assortment of possessions. And soon several hundred + persons of all ages and sexes were congregated about the captain's + dwelling. He called to one new arrival, a woman with a nursing babe in her + arms, and in answer received the information that her house had just been + swept into the lagoon. + </p> + <p> + This was the highest spot of land in miles, and already, in many places on + either hand, the great seas were making a clean breach of the slender ring + of the atoll and surging into the lagoon. Twenty miles around stretched + the ring of the atoll, and in no place was it more than fifty fathoms + wide. It was the height of the diving season, and from all the islands + around, even as far as Tahiti, the natives had gathered. + </p> + <p> + “There are twelve hundred men, women, and children here,” said Captain + Lynch. “I wonder how many will be here tomorrow morning.” + </p> + <p> + “But why don't it blow?—that's what I want to know,” Raoul demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Don't worry, young man, don't worry; you'll get your troubles fast + enough.” + </p> + <p> + Even as Captain Lynch spoke, a great watery mass smote the atoll. + </p> + <p> + The sea water churned about them three inches deep under the chairs. A low + wail of fear went up from the many women. The children, with clasped + hands, stared at the immense rollers and cried piteously. Chickens and + cats, wading perturbedly in the water, as by common consent, with flight + and scramble took refuge on the roof of the captain's house. A Paumotan, + with a litter of new-born puppies in a basket, climbed into a cocoanut + tree and twenty feet above the ground made the basket fast. The mother + floundered about in the water beneath, whining and yelping. + </p> + <p> + And still the sun shone brightly and the dead calm continued. They sat and + watched the seas and the insane pitching of the Aorai. Captain Lynch gazed + at the huge mountains of water sweeping in until he could gaze no more. He + covered his face with his hands to shut out the sight; then went into the + house. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-eight-sixty,” he said quietly when he returned. + </p> + <p> + In his arm was a coil of small rope. He cut it into two-fathom lengths, + giving one to Raoul and, retaining one for himself, distributed the + remainder among the women with the advice to pick out a tree and climb. + </p> + <p> + A light air began to blow out of the northeast, and the fan of it on his + cheek seemed to cheer Raoul up. He could see the Aorai trimming her sheets + and heading off shore, and he regretted that he was not on her. She would + get away at any rate, but as for the atoll—A sea breached across, + almost sweeping him off his feet, and he selected a tree. Then he + remembered the barometer and ran back to the house. He encountered Captain + Lynch on the same errand and together they went in. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-eight-twenty,” said the old mariner. “It's going to be fair hell + around here—what was that?” + </p> + <p> + The air seemed filled with the rush of something. The house quivered and + vibrated, and they heard the thrumming of a mighty note of sound. The + windows rattled. Two panes crashed; a draught of wind tore in, striking + them and making them stagger. The door opposite banged shut, shattering + the latch. The white door knob crumbled in fragments to the floor. The + room's walls bulged like a gas balloon in the process of sudden inflation. + Then came a new sound like the rattle of musketry, as the spray from a sea + struck the wall of the house. Captain Lynch looked at his watch. It was + four o'clock. He put on a coat of pilot cloth, unhooked the barometer, and + stowed it away in a capacious pocket. Again a sea struck the house, with a + heavy thud, and the light building tilted, twisted, quarter around on its + foundation, and sank down, its floor at an angle of ten degrees. + </p> + <p> + Raoul went out first. The wind caught him and whirled him away. He noted + that it had hauled around to the east. With a great effort he threw + himself on the sand, crouching and holding his own. Captain Lynch, driven + like a wisp of straw, sprawled over him. Two of the Aorai's sailors, + leaving a cocoanut tree to which they had been clinging, came to their + aid, leaning against the wind at impossible angles and fighting and + clawing every inch of the way. + </p> + <p> + The old man's joints were stiff and he could not climb, so the sailors, by + means of short ends of rope tied together, hoisted him up the trunk, a few + feet at a time, till they could make him fast, at the top of the tree, + fifty feet from the ground. Raoul passed his length of rope around the + base of an adjacent tree and stood looking on. The wind was frightful. He + had never dreamed it could blow so hard. A sea breached across the atoll, + wetting him to the knees ere it subsided into the lagoon. The sun had + disappeared, and a lead-colored twilight settled down. A few drops of + rain, driving horizontally, struck him. The impact was like that of leaden + pellets. A splash of salt spray struck his face. It was like the slap of a + man's hand. His cheeks stung, and involuntary tears of pain were in his + smarting eyes. Several hundred natives had taken to the trees, and he + could have laughed at the bunches of human fruit clustering in the tops. + Then, being Tahitian-born, he doubled his body at the waist, clasped the + trunk of his tree with his hands, pressed the soles of his feet against + the near surface of the trunk, and began to walk up the tree. At the top + he found two women, two children, and a man. One little girl clasped a + housecat in her arms. + </p> + <p> + From his eyrie he waved his hand to Captain Lynch, and that doughty + patriarch waved back. Raoul was appalled at the sky. It had approached + much nearer—in fact, it seemed just over his head; and it had turned + from lead to black. Many people were still on the ground grouped about the + bases of the trees and holding on. Several such clusters were praying, and + in one the Mormon missionary was exhorting. A weird sound, rhythmical, + faint as the faintest chirp of a far cricket, enduring but for a moment, + but in the moment suggesting to him vaguely the thought of heaven and + celestial music, came to his ear. He glanced about him and saw, at the + base of another tree, a large cluster of people holding on by ropes and by + one another. He could see their faces working and their lips moving in + unison. No sound came to him, but he knew that they were singing hymns. + </p> + <p> + Still the wind continued to blow harder. By no conscious process could he + measure it, for it had long since passed beyond all his experience of + wind; but he knew somehow, nevertheless, that it was blowing harder. Not + far away a tree was uprooted, flinging its load of human beings to the + ground. A sea washed across the strip of sand, and they were gone. Things + were happening quickly. He saw a brown shoulder and a black head + silhouetted against the churning white of the lagoon. The next instant + that, too, had vanished. Other trees were going, falling and + criss-crossing like matches. He was amazed at the power of the wind. His + own tree was swaying perilously, one woman was wailing and clutching the + little girl, who in turn still hung on to the cat. + </p> + <p> + The man, holding the other child, touched Raoul's arm and pointed. He + looked and saw the Mormon church careering drunkenly a hundred feet away. + It had been torn from its foundations, and wind and sea were heaving and + shoving it toward the lagoon. A frightful wall of water caught it, tilted + it, and flung it against half a dozen cocoanut trees. The bunches of human + fruit fell like ripe cocoanuts. The subsiding wave showed them on the + ground, some lying motionless, others squirming and writhing. They + reminded him strangely of ants. He was not shocked. He had risen above + horror. Quite as a matter of course he noted the succeeding wave sweep the + sand clean of the human wreckage. A third wave, more colossal than any he + had yet seen, hurled the church into the lagoon, where it floated off into + the obscurity to leeward, half-submerged, reminding him for all the world + of a Noah's ark. + </p> + <p> + He looked for Captain Lynch's house, and was surprised to find it gone. + Things certainly were happening quickly. He noticed that many of the + people in the trees that still held had descended to the ground. The wind + had yet again increased. His own tree showed that. It no longer swayed or + bent over and back. Instead, it remained practically stationary, curved in + a rigid angle from the wind and merely vibrating. But the vibration was + sickening. It was like that of a tuning-fork or the tongue of a + jew's-harp. It was the rapidity of the vibration that made it so bad. Even + though its roots held, it could not stand the strain for long. Something + would have to break. + </p> + <p> + Ah, there was one that had gone. He had not seen it go, but there it + stood, the remnant, broken off half-way up the trunk. One did not know + what happened unless he saw it. The mere crashing of trees and wails of + human despair occupied no place in that mighty volume of sound. He chanced + to be looking in Captain Lynch's direction when it happened. He saw the + trunk of the tree, half-way up, splinter and part without noise. The head + of the tree, with three sailors of the Aorai and the old captain sailed + off over the lagoon. It did not fall to the ground, but drove through the + air like a piece of chaff. For a hundred yards he followed its flight, + when it struck the water. He strained his eyes, and was sure that he saw + Captain Lynch wave farewell. + </p> + <p> + Raoul did not wait for anything more. He touched the native and made signs + to descend to the ground. The man was willing, but his women were + paralyzed from terror, and he elected to remain with them. Raoul passed + his rope around the tree and slid down. A rush of salt water went over his + head. He held his breath and clung desperately to the rope. The water + subsided, and in the shelter of the trunk he breathed once more. He + fastened the rope more securely, and then was put under by another sea. + One of the women slid down and joined him, the native remaining by the + other woman, the two children, and the cat. + </p> + <p> + The supercargo had noticed how the groups clinging at the bases of the + other trees continually diminished. Now he saw the process work out + alongside him. It required all his strength to hold on, and the woman who + had joined him was growing weaker. Each time he emerged from a sea he was + surprised to find himself still there, and next, surprised to find the + woman still there. At last he emerged to find himself alone. He looked up. + The top of the tree had gone as well. At half its original height, a + splintered end vibrated. He was safe. The roots still held, while the tree + had been shorn of its windage. He began to climb up. He was so weak that + he went slowly, and sea after sea caught him before he was above them. + Then he tied himself to the trunk and stiffened his soul to face the night + and he knew not what. + </p> + <p> + He felt very lonely in the darkness. At times it seemed to him that it was + the end of the world and that he was the last one left alive. Still the + wind increased. Hour after hour it increased. By what he calculated was + eleven o'clock, the wind had become unbelievable. It was a horrible, + monstrous thing, a screaming fury, a wall that smote and passed on but + that continued to smite and pass on—a wall without end. It seemed to + him that he had become light and ethereal; that it was he that was in + motion; that he was being driven with inconceivable velocity through + unending solidness. The wind was no longer air in motion. It had become + substantial as water or quicksilver. He had a feeling that he could reach + into it and tear it out in chunks as one might do with the meat in the + carcass of a steer; that he could seize hold of the wind and hang on to it + as a man might hang on to the face of a cliff. + </p> + <p> + The wind strangled him. He could not face it and breathe, for it rushed in + through his mouth and nostrils, distending his lungs like bladders. At + such moments it seemed to him that his body was being packed and swollen + with solid earth. Only by pressing his lips to the trunk of the tree could + he breathe. Also, the ceaseless impact of the wind exhausted him. Body and + brain became wearied. He no longer observed, no longer thought, and was + but semiconscious. One idea constituted his consciousness: SO THIS WAS A + HURRICANE. That one idea persisted irregularly. It was like a feeble flame + that flickered occasionally. From a state of stupor he would return to it—SO + THIS WAS A HURRICANE. Then he would go off into another stupor. + </p> + <p> + The height of the hurricane endured from eleven at night till three in the + morning, and it was at eleven that the tree in which clung Mapuhi and his + women snapped off. Mapuhi rose to the surface of the lagoon, still + clutching his daughter Ngakura. Only a South Sea islander could have lived + in such a driving smother. The pandanus tree, to which he attached + himself, turned over and over in the froth and churn; and it was only by + holding on at times and waiting, and at other times shifting his grips + rapidly, that he was able to get his head and Ngakura's to the surface at + intervals sufficiently near together to keep the breath in them. But the + air was mostly water, what with flying spray and sheeted rain that poured + along at right angles to the perpendicular. + </p> + <p> + It was ten miles across the lagoon to the farther ring of sand. Here, + tossing tree trunks, timbers, wrecks of cutters, and wreckage of houses, + killed nine out of ten of the miserable beings who survived the passage of + the lagoon. Half-drowned, exhausted, they were hurled into this mad mortar + of the elements and battered into formless flesh. But Mapuhi was + fortunate. His chance was the one in ten; it fell to him by the freakage + of fate. He emerged upon the sand, bleeding from a score of wounds. + </p> + <p> + Ngakura's left arm was broken; the fingers of her right hand were crushed; + and cheek and forehead were laid open to the bone. He clutched a tree that + yet stood, and clung on, holding the girl and sobbing for air, while the + waters of the lagoon washed by knee-high and at times waist-high. + </p> + <p> + At three in the morning the backbone of the hurricane broke. By five no + more than a stiff breeze was blowing. And by six it was dead calm and the + sun was shining. The sea had gone down. On the yet restless edge of the + lagoon, Mapuhi saw the broken bodies of those that had failed in the + landing. Undoubtedly Tefara and Nauri were among them. He went along the + beach examining them, and came upon his wife, lying half in and half out + of the water. He sat down and wept, making harsh animal noises after the + manner of primitive grief. Then she stirred uneasily, and groaned. He + looked more closely. Not only was she alive, but she was uninjured. She + was merely sleeping. Hers also had been the one chance in ten. + </p> + <p> + Of the twelve hundred alive the night before but three hundred remained. + The Mormon missionary and a gendarme made the census. The lagoon was + cluttered with corpses. Not a house nor a hut was standing. In the whole + atoll not two stones remained one upon another. One in fifty of the + cocoanut palms still stood, and they were wrecks, while on not one of them + remained a single nut. + </p> + <p> + There was no fresh water. The shallow wells that caught the surface + seepage of the rain were filled with salt. Out of the lagoon a few soaked + bags of flour were recovered. The survivors cut the hearts out of the + fallen cocoanut trees and ate them. Here and there they crawled into tiny + hutches, made by hollowing out the sand and covering over with fragments + of metal roofing. The missionary made a crude still, but he could not + distill water for three hundred persons. By the end of the second day, + Raoul, taking a bath in the lagoon, discovered that his thirst was + somewhat relieved. He cried out the news, and thereupon three hundred men, + women, and children could have been seen, standing up to their necks in + the lagoon and trying to drink water in through their skins. Their dead + floated about them, or were stepped upon where they still lay upon the + bottom. On the third day the people buried their dead and sat down to wait + for the rescue steamers. + </p> + <p> + In the meantime, Nauri, torn from her family by the hurricane, had been + swept away on an adventure of her own. Clinging to a rough plank that + wounded and bruised her and that filled her body with splinters, she was + thrown clear over the atoll and carried away to sea. Here, under the + amazing buffets of mountains of water, she lost her plank. She was an old + woman nearly sixty; but she was Paumotan-born, and she had never been out + of sight of the sea in her life. Swimming in the darkness, strangling, + suffocating, fighting for air, she was struck a heavy blow on the shoulder + by a cocoanut. On the instant her plan was formed, and she seized the nut. + In the next hour she captured seven more. Tied together, they formed a + life-buoy that preserved her life while at the same time it threatened to + pound her to a jelly. She was a fat woman, and she bruised easily; but she + had had experience of hurricanes, and while she prayed to her shark god + for protection from sharks, she waited for the wind to break. But at three + o'clock she was in such a stupor that she did not know. Nor did she know + at six o'clock when the dead calm settled down. She was shocked into + consciousness when she was thrown upon the sand. She dug in with raw and + bleeding hands and feet and clawed against the backwash until she was + beyond the reach of the waves. + </p> + <p> + She knew where she was. This land could be no other than the tiny islet of + Takokota. It had no lagoon. No one lived upon it. + </p> + <p> + Hikueru was fifteen miles away. She could not see Hikueru, but she knew + that it lay to the south. The days went by, and she lived on the cocoanuts + that had kept her afloat. They supplied her with drinking water and with + food. But she did not drink all she wanted, nor eat all she wanted. Rescue + was problematical. She saw the smoke of the rescue steamers on the + horizon, but what steamer could be expected to come to lonely, uninhabited + Takokota? + </p> + <p> + From the first she was tormented by corpses. The sea persisted in flinging + them upon her bit of sand, and she persisted, until her strength failed, + in thrusting them back into the sea where the sharks tore at them and + devoured them. When her strength failed, the bodies festooned her beach + with ghastly horror, and she withdrew from them as far as she could, which + was not far. + </p> + <p> + By the tenth day her last cocoanut was gone, and she was shrivelling from + thirst. She dragged herself along the sand, looking for cocoanuts. It was + strange that so many bodies floated up, and no nuts. Surely, there were + more cocoanuts afloat than dead men! She gave up at last, and lay + exhausted. The end had come. Nothing remained but to wait for death. + </p> + <p> + Coming out of a stupor, she became slowly aware that she was gazing at a + patch of sandy-red hair on the head of a corpse. The sea flung the body + toward her, then drew it back. It turned over, and she saw that it had no + face. Yet there was something familiar about that patch of sandy-red hair. + An hour passed. She did not exert herself to make the identification. She + was waiting to die, and it mattered little to her what man that thing of + horror once might have been. + </p> + <p> + But at the end of the hour she sat up slowly and stared at the corpse. An + unusually large wave had thrown it beyond the reach of the lesser waves. + Yes, she was right; that patch of red hair could belong to but one man in + the Paumotus. It was Levy, the German Jew, the man who had bought the + pearl and carried it away on the Hira. Well, one thing was evident: The + Hira had been lost. The pearl buyer's god of fishermen and thieves had + gone back on him. + </p> + <p> + She crawled down to the dead man. His shirt had been torn away, and she + could see the leather money belt about his waist. She held her breath and + tugged at the buckles. They gave easier than she had expected, and she + crawled hurriedly away across the sand, dragging the belt after her. + Pocket after pocket she unbuckled in the belt and found empty. Where could + he have put it? In the last pocket of all she found it, the first and only + pearl he had bought on the voyage. She crawled a few feet farther, to + escape the pestilence of the belt, and examined the pearl. It was the one + Mapuhi had found and been robbed of by Toriki. She weighed it in her hand + and rolled it back and forth caressingly. But in it she saw no intrinsic + beauty. What she did see was the house Mapuhi and Tefara and she had + builded so carefully in their minds. Each time she looked at the pearl she + saw the house in all its details, including the octagon-drop-clock on the + wall. That was something to live for. + </p> + <p> + She tore a strip from her ahu and tied the pearl securely about her neck. + Then she went on along the beach, panting and groaning, but resolutely + seeking for cocoanuts. Quickly she found one, and, as she glanced around, + a second. She broke one, drinking its water, which was mildewy, and eating + the last particle of the meat. A little later she found a shattered + dugout. Its outrigger was gone, but she was hopeful, and, before the day + was out, she found the outrigger. Every find was an augury. The pearl was + a talisman. Late in the afternoon she saw a wooden box floating low in the + water. When she dragged it out on the beach its contents rattled, and + inside she found ten tins of salmon. She opened one by hammering it on the + canoe. When a leak was started, she drained the tin. After that she spent + several hours in extracting the salmon, hammering and squeezing it out a + morsel at a time. + </p> + <p> + Eight days longer she waited for rescue. In the meantime she fastened the + outrigger back on the canoe, using for lashings all the cocoanut fibre she + could find, and also what remained of her ahu. The canoe was badly + cracked, and she could not make it water-tight; but a calabash made from a + cocoanut she stored on board for a bailer. She was hard put for a paddle. + With a piece of tin she sawed off all her hair close to the scalp. Out of + the hair she braided a cord; and by means of the cord she lashed a + three-foot piece of broom handle to a board from the salmon case. + </p> + <p> + She gnawed wedges with her teeth and with them wedged the lashing. + </p> + <p> + On the eighteenth day, at midnight, she launched the canoe through the + surf and started back for Hikueru. She was an old woman. Hardship had + stripped her fat from her till scarcely more than bones and skin and a few + stringy muscles remained. The canoe was large and should have been paddled + by three strong men. + </p> + <p> + But she did it alone, with a make-shift paddle. Also, the canoe leaked + badly, and one-third of her time was devoted to bailing. By clear daylight + she looked vainly for Hikueru. Astern, Takokota had sunk beneath the sea + rim. The sun blazed down on her nakedness, compelling her body to + surrender its moisture. Two tins of salmon were left, and in the course of + the day she battered holes in them and drained the liquid. She had no time + to waste in extracting the meat. A current was setting to the westward, + she made westing whether she made southing or not. + </p> + <p> + In the early afternoon, standing upright in the canoe, she sighted + Hikueru. Its wealth of cocoanut palms was gone. Only here and there, at + wide intervals, could she see the ragged remnants of trees. The sight + cheered her. She was nearer than she had thought. The current was setting + her to the westward. She bore up against it and paddled on. The wedges in + the paddle lashing worked loose, and she lost much time, at frequent + intervals, in driving them tight. Then there was the bailing. One hour in + three she had to cease paddling in order to bail. And all the time she + drifted to the westward. + </p> + <p> + By sunset Hikueru bore southeast from her, three miles away. There was a + full moon, and by eight o'clock the land was due east and two miles away. + She struggled on for another hour, but the land was as far away as ever. + She was in the main grip of the current; the canoe was too large; the + paddle was too inadequate; and too much of her time and strength was + wasted in bailing. Besides, she was very weak and growing weaker. Despite + her efforts, the canoe was drifting off to the westward. + </p> + <p> + She breathed a prayer to her shark god, slipped over the side, and began + to swim. She was actually refreshed by the water, and quickly left the + canoe astern. At the end of an hour the land was perceptibly nearer. Then + came her fright. Right before her eyes, not twenty feet away, a large fin + cut the water. She swam steadily toward it, and slowly it glided away, + curving off toward the right and circling around her. She kept her eyes on + the fin and swam on. When the fin disappeared, she lay face downward in + the water and watched. When the fin reappeared she resumed her swimming. + The monster was lazy—she could see that. Without doubt he had been + well fed since the hurricane. Had he been very hungry, she knew he would + not have hesitated from making a dash for her. He was fifteen feet long, + and one bite, she knew, could cut her in half. + </p> + <p> + But she did not have any time to waste on him. Whether she swam or not, + the current drew away from the land just the same. A half hour went by, + and the shark began to grow bolder. Seeing no harm in her he drew closer, + in narrowing circles, cocking his eyes at her impudently as he slid past. + Sooner or later, she knew well enough, he would get up sufficient courage + to dash at her. She resolved to play first. It was a desperate act she + meditated. She was an old woman, alone in the sea and weak from starvation + and hardship; and yet she, in the face of this sea tiger, must anticipate + his dash by herself dashing at him. She swam on, waiting her chance. At + last he passed languidly by, barely eight feet away. She rushed at him + suddenly, feigning that she was attacking him. He gave a wild flirt of his + tail as he fled away, and his sandpaper hide, striking her, took off her + skin from elbow to shoulder. He swam rapidly, in a widening circle, and at + last disappeared. + </p> + <p> + In the hole in the sand, covered over by fragments of metal roofing, + Mapuhi and Tefara lay disputing. + </p> + <p> + “If you had done as I said,” charged Tefara, for the thousandth time, “and + hidden the pearl and told no one, you would have it now.” + </p> + <p> + “But Huru-Huru was with me when I opened the shell—have I not told + you so times and times and times without end?” + </p> + <p> + “And now we shall have no house. Raoul told me today that if you had not + sold the pearl to Toriki—” + </p> + <p> + “I did not sell it. Toriki robbed me.” + </p> + <p> + “—that if you had not sold the pearl, he would give you five + thousand French dollars, which is ten thousand Chili.” + </p> + <p> + “He has been talking to his mother,” Mapuhi explained. “She has an eye for + a pearl.” + </p> + <p> + “And now the pearl is lost,” Tefara complained. + </p> + <p> + “It paid my debt with Toriki. That is twelve hundred I have made, anyway.” + </p> + <p> + “Toriki is dead,” she cried. “They have heard no word of his schooner. She + was lost along with the Aorai and the Hira. Will Toriki pay you the three + hundred credit he promised? No, because Toriki is dead. And had you found + no pearl, would you today owe Toriki the twelve hundred? No, because + Toriki is dead, and you cannot pay dead men.” + </p> + <p> + “But Levy did not pay Toriki,” Mapuhi said. “He gave him a piece of paper + that was good for the money in Papeete; and now Levy is dead and cannot + pay; and Toriki is dead and the paper lost with him, and the pearl is lost + with Levy. You are right, Tefara. I have lost the pearl, and got nothing + for it. Now let us sleep.” + </p> + <p> + He held up his hand suddenly and listened. From without came a noise, as + of one who breathed heavily and with pain. A hand fumbled against the mat + that served for a door. + </p> + <p> + “Who is there?” Mapuhi cried. + </p> + <p> + “Nauri,” came the answer. “Can you tell me where is my son, Mapuhi?” + </p> + <p> + Tefara screamed and gripped her husband's arm. + </p> + <p> + “A ghost!” she chattered. “A ghost!” + </p> + <p> + Mapuhi's face was a ghastly yellow. He clung weakly to his wife. + </p> + <p> + “Good woman,” he said in faltering tones, striving to disguise his vice, + “I know your son well. He is living on the east side of the lagoon.” + </p> + <p> + From without came the sound of a sigh. Mapuhi began to feel elated. He had + fooled the ghost. + </p> + <p> + “But where do you come from, old woman?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “From the sea,” was the dejected answer. + </p> + <p> + “I knew it! I knew it!” screamed Tefara, rocking to and fro. + </p> + <p> + “Since when has Tefara bedded in a strange house?” came Nauri's voice + through the matting. + </p> + <p> + Mapuhi looked fear and reproach at his wife. It was her voice that had + betrayed them. + </p> + <p> + “And since when has Mapuhi, my son, denied his old mother?” the voice went + on. + </p> + <p> + “No, no, I have not—Mapuhi has not denied you,” he cried. “I am not + Mapuhi. He is on the east end of the lagoon, I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + Ngakura sat up in bed and began to cry. The matting started to shake. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing?” Mapuhi demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I am coming in,” said the voice of Nauri. + </p> + <p> + One end of the matting lifted. Tefara tried to dive under the blankets, + but Mapuhi held on to her. He had to hold on to something. Together, + struggling with each other, with shivering bodies and chattering teeth, + they gazed with protruding eyes at the lifting mat. They saw Nauri, + dripping with sea water, without her ahu, creep in. They rolled over + backward from her and fought for Ngakura's blanket with which to cover + their heads. + </p> + <p> + “You might give your old mother a drink of water,” the ghost said + plaintively. + </p> + <p> + “Give her a drink of water,” Tefara commanded in a shaking voice. + </p> + <p> + “Give her a drink of water,” Mapuhi passed on the command to Ngakura. + </p> + <p> + And together they kicked out Ngakura from under the blanket. A minute + later, peeping, Mapuhi saw the ghost drinking. When it reached out a + shaking hand and laid it on his, he felt the weight of it and was + convinced that it was no ghost. Then he emerged, dragging Tefara after + him, and in a few minutes all were listening to Nauri's tale. And when she + told of Levy, and dropped the pearl into Tefara's hand, even she was + reconciled to the reality of her mother-in-law. + </p> + <p> + “In the morning,” said Tefara, “you will sell the pearl to Raoul for five + thousand French.” + </p> + <p> + “The house?” objected Nauri. + </p> + <p> + “He will build the house,” Tefara answered. “He ways it will cost four + thousand French. Also will he give one thousand French in credit, which is + two thousand Chili.” + </p> + <p> + “And it will be six fathoms long?” Nauri queried. + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” answered Mapuhi, “six fathoms.” + </p> + <p> + “And in the middle room will be the octagon-drop-clock?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, and the round table as well.” + </p> + <p> + “Then give me something to eat, for I am hungry,” said Nauri, + complacently. “And after that we will sleep, for I am weary. And tomorrow + we will have more talk about the house before we sell the pearl. It will + be better if we take the thousand French in cash. Money is ever better + than credit in buying goods from the traders.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE WHALE TOOTH + </h2> + <p> + It was in the early days in Fiji, when John Starhurst arose in the mission + house at Rewa Village and announced his intention of carrying the gospel + throughout all Viti Levu. Now Viti Levu means the “Great Land,” it being + the largest island in a group composed of many large islands, to say + nothing of hundreds of small ones. Here and there on the coasts, living by + most precarious tenure, was a sprinkling of missionaries, traders, + bêche-de-mer fishers, and whaleship deserters. The smoke of the hot ovens + arose under their windows, and the bodies of the slain were dragged by + their doors on the way to the feasting. + </p> + <p> + The Lotu, or the Worship, was progressing slowly, and, often, in crablike + fashion. Chiefs, who announced themselves Christians and were welcomed + into the body of the chapel, had a distressing habit of backsliding in + order to partake of the flesh of some favorite enemy. Eat or be eaten had + been the law of the land; and eat or be eaten promised to remain the law + of the land for a long time to come. There were chiefs, such as Tanoa, + Tuiveikoso, and Tuikilakila, who had literally eaten hundreds of their + fellow men. But among these gluttons Ra Undreundre ranked highest. Ra + Undreundre lived at Takiraki. He kept a register of his gustatory + exploits. A row of stones outside his house marked the bodies he had + eaten. This row was two hundred and thirty paces long, and the stones in + it numbered eight hundred and seventy-two. Each stone represented a body. + The row of stones might have been longer, had not Ra Undreundre + unfortunately received a spear in the small of his back in a bush skirmish + on Somo Somo and been served up on the table of Naungavuli, whose mediocre + string of stones numbered only forty-eight. + </p> + <p> + The hard-worked, fever-stricken missionaries stuck doggedly to their task, + at times despairing, and looking forward for some special manifestation, + some outburst of Pentecostal fire that would bring a glorious harvest of + souls. But cannibal Fiji had remained obdurate. The frizzle-headed + man-eaters were loath to leave their fleshpots so long as the harvest of + human carcases was plentiful. Sometimes, when the harvest was too + plentiful, they imposed on the missionaries by letting the word slip out + that on such a day there would be a killing and a barbecue. Promptly the + missionaries would buy the lives of the victims with stick tobacco, + fathoms of calico, and quarts of trade beads. Natheless the chiefs drove a + handsome trade in thus disposing of their surplus live meat. Also, they + could always go out and catch more. + </p> + <p> + It was at this juncture that John Starhurst proclaimed that he would carry + the Gospel from coast to coast of the Great Land, and that he would begin + by penetrating the mountain fastnesses of the headwaters of the Rewa + River. His words were received with consternation. + </p> + <p> + The native teachers wept softly. His two fellow missionaries strove to + dissuade him. The King of Rewa warned him that the mountain dwellers would + surely kai-kai him—kai-kai meaning “to eat”—and that he, the + King of Rewa, having become Lotu, would be put to the necessity of going + to war with the mountain dwellers. That he could not conquer them he was + perfectly aware. That they might come down the river and sack Rewa Village + he was likewise perfectly aware. But what was he to do? If John Starhurst + persisted in going out and being eaten, there would be a war that would + cost hundreds of lives. + </p> + <p> + Later in the day a deputation of Rewa chiefs waited upon John Starhurst. + He heard them patiently, and argued patiently with them, though he abated + not a whit from his purpose. To his fellow missionaries he explained that + he was not bent upon martyrdom; that the call had come for him to carry + the Gospel into Viti Levu, and that he was merely obeying the Lord's wish. + </p> + <p> + To the traders who came and objected most strenuously of all, he said: + “Your objections are valueless. They consist merely of the damage that may + be done your businesses. You are interested in making money, but I am + interested in saving souls. The heathen of this dark land must be saved.” + </p> + <p> + John Starhurst was not a fanatic. He would have been the first man to deny + the imputation. He was eminently sane and practical. + </p> + <p> + He was sure that his mission would result in good, and he had private + visions of igniting the Pentecostal spark in the souls of the mountaineers + and of inaugurating a revival that would sweep down out of the mountains + and across the length and breadth of the Great Land from sea to sea and to + the isles in the midst of the sea. There were no wild lights in his mild + gray eyes, but only calm resolution and an unfaltering trust in the Higher + Power that was guiding him. + </p> + <p> + One man only he found who approved of his project, and that was Ra Vatu, + who secretly encouraged him and offered to lend him guides to the first + foothills. John Starhurst, in turn, was greatly pleased by Ra Vatu's + conduct. From an incorrigible heathen, with a heart as black as his + practices, Ra Vatu was beginning to emanate light. He even spoke of + becoming Lotu. True, three years before he had expressed a similar + intention, and would have entered the church had not John Starhurst + entered objection to his bringing his four wives along with him. Ra Vatu + had had economic and ethical objections to monogamy. Besides, the + missionary's hair-splitting objection had offended him; and, to prove that + he was a free agent and a man of honor, he had swung his huge war club + over Starhurst's head. Starhurst had escaped by rushing in under the club + and holding on to him until help arrived. But all that was now forgiven + and forgotten. Ra Vatu was coming into the church, not merely as a + converted heathen, but as a converted polygamist as well. He was only + waiting, he assured Starhurst, until his oldest wife, who was very sick, + should die. + </p> + <p> + John Starhurst journeyed up the sluggish Rewa in one of Ra Vatu's canoes. + This canoe was to carry him for two days, when, the head of navigation + reached, it would return. Far in the distance, lifted into the sky, could + be seen the great smoky mountains that marked the backbone of the Great + Land. All day John Starhurst gazed at them with eager yearning. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes he prayed silently. At other times he was joined in prayer by + Narau, a native teacher, who for seven years had been Lotu, ever since the + day he had been saved from the hot oven by Dr. James Ellery Brown at the + trifling expense of one hundred sticks of tobacco, two cotton blankets, + and a large bottle of painkiller. At the last moment, after twenty hours + of solitary supplication and prayer, Narau's ears had heard the call to go + forth with John Starhurst on the mission to the mountains. + </p> + <p> + “Master, I will surely go with thee,” he had announced. + </p> + <p> + John Starhurst had hailed him with sober delight. Truly, the Lord was with + him thus to spur on so broken-spirited a creature as Narau. + </p> + <p> + “I am indeed without spirit, the weakest of the Lord's vessels,” Narau + explained, the first day in the canoe. + </p> + <p> + “You should have faith, stronger faith,” the missionary chided him. + </p> + <p> + Another canoe journeyed up the Rewa that day. But it journeyed an hour + astern, and it took care not to be seen. This canoe was also the property + of Ra Vatu. In it was Erirola, Ra Vatu's first cousin and trusted + henchman; and in the small basket that never left his hand was a whale + tooth. It was a magnificent tooth, fully six inches long, beautifully + proportioned, the ivory turned yellow and purple with age. This tooth was + likewise the property of Ra Vatu; and in Fiji, when such a tooth goes + forth, things usually happen. For this is the virtue of the whale tooth: + Whoever accepts it cannot refuse the request that may accompany it or + follow it. The request may be anything from a human life to a tribal + alliance, and no Fijian is so dead to honor as to deny the request when + once the tooth has been accepted. Sometimes the request hangs fire, or the + fulfilment is delayed, with untoward consequences. + </p> + <p> + High up the Rewa, at the village of a chief, Mongondro by name, John + Starhurst rested at the end of the second day of the journey. In the + morning, attended by Narau, he expected to start on foot for the smoky + mountains that were now green and velvety with nearness. Mongondro was a + sweet-tempered, mild-mannered little old chief, short-sighted and + afflicted with elephantiasis, and no longer inclined toward the turbulence + of war. He received the missionary with warm hospitality, gave him food + from his own table, and even discussed religious matters with him. + Mongondro was of an inquiring bent of mind, and pleased John Starhurst + greatly by asking him to account for the existence and beginning of + things. When the missionary had finished his summary of the Creation + according to Genesis, he saw that Mongondro was deeply affected. The + little old chief smoked silently for some time. Then he took the pipe from + his mouth and shook his head sadly. + </p> + <p> + “It cannot be,” he said. “I, Mongondro, in my youth, was a good workman + with the adze. Yet three months did it take me to make a canoe—a + small canoe, a very small canoe. And you say that all this land and water + was made by one man—” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, was made by one God, the only true God,” the missionary interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “It is the same thing,” Mongondro went on, “that all the land and all the + water, the trees, the fish, and bush and mountains, the sun, the moon, and + the stars, were made in six days! No, no. I tell you that in my youth I + was an able man, yet did it require me three months for one small canoe. + It is a story to frighten children with; but no man can believe it.” + </p> + <p> + “I am a man,” the missionary said. + </p> + <p> + “True, you are a man. But it is not given to my dark understanding to know + what you believe.” + </p> + <p> + “I tell you, I do believe that everything was made in six days.” + </p> + <p> + “So you say, so you say,” the old cannibal murmured soothingly. + </p> + <p> + It was not until after John Starhurst and Narau had gone off to bed that + Erirola crept into the chief's house, and, after diplomatic speech, handed + the whale tooth to Mongondro. + </p> + <p> + The old chief held the tooth in his hands for a long time. It was a + beautiful tooth, and he yearned for it. Also, he divined the request that + must accompany it. “No, no; whale teeth were beautiful,” and his mouth + watered for it, but he passed it back to Erirola with many apologies. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + In the early dawn John Starhurst was afoot, striding along the bush trail + in his big leather boots, at his heels the faithful Narau, himself at the + heels of a naked guide lent him by Mongondro to show the way to the next + village, which was reached by midday. Here a new guide showed the way. A + mile in the rear plodded Erirola, the whale tooth in the basket slung on + his shoulder. For two days more he brought up the missionary's rear, + offering the tooth to the village chiefs. But village after village + refused the tooth. It followed so quickly the missionary's advent that + they divined the request that would be made, and would have none of it. + </p> + <p> + They were getting deep into the mountains, and Erirola took a secret + trail, cut in ahead of the missionary, and reached the stronghold of the + Buli of Gatoka. Now the Buli was unaware of John Starhurst's imminent + arrival. Also, the tooth was beautiful—an extraordinary specimen, + while the coloring of it was of the rarest order. The tooth was presented + publicly. The Buli of Gatoka, seated on his best mat, surrounded by his + chief men, three busy fly-brushers at his back, deigned to receive from + the hand of his herald the whale tooth presented by Ra Vatu and carried + into the mountains by his cousin, Erirola. A clapping of hands went up at + the acceptance of the present, the assembled headman, heralds, and + fly-brushers crying aloud in chorus: + </p> + <p> + “A! woi! woi! woi! A! woi! woi! woi! A tabua levu! woi! woi! A mudua, + mudua, mudua!' + </p> + <p> + “Soon will come a man, a white man,” Erirola began, after the proper + pause. “He is a missionary man, and he will come today. Ra Vatu is pleased + to desire his boots. He wishes to present them to his good friend, + Mongondro, and it is in his mind to send them with the feet along in them, + for Mongondro is an old man and his teeth are not good. Be sure, O Buli, + that the feet go along in the boots. As for the rest of him, it may stop + here.” + </p> + <p> + The delight in the whale tooth faded out of the Buli's eyes, and he + glanced about him dubiously. Yet had he already accepted the tooth. + </p> + <p> + “A little thing like a missionary does not matter,” Erirola prompted. + </p> + <p> + “No, a little thing like a missionary does not matter,” the Buli answered, + himself again. “Mongondro shall have the boots. Go, you young men, some + three or four of you, and meet the missionary on the trail. Be sure you + bring back the boots as well.” + </p> + <p> + “It is too late,” said Erirola. “Listen! He comes now.” + </p> + <p> + Breaking through the thicket of brush, John Starhurst, with Narau close on + his heels, strode upon the scene. The famous boots, having filled in + wading the stream, squirted fine jets of water at every step. Starhurst + looked about him with flashing eyes. Upborne by an unwavering trust, + untouched by doubt or fear, he exulted in all he saw. He knew that since + the beginning of time he was the first white man ever to tread the + mountain stronghold of Gatoka. + </p> + <p> + The grass houses clung to the steep mountain side or overhung the rushing + Rewa. On either side towered a mighty precipice. At the best, three hours + of sunlight penetrated that narrow gorge. No cocoanuts nor bananas were to + be seen, though dense, tropic vegetation overran everything, dripping in + airy festoons from the sheer lips of the precipices and running riot in + all the crannied ledges. At the far end of the gorge the Rewa leaped eight + hundred feet in a single span, while the atmosphere of the rock fortress + pulsed to the rhythmic thunder of the fall. + </p> + <p> + From the Buli's house, John Starhurst saw emerging the Buli and his + followers. + </p> + <p> + “I bring you good tidings,” was the missionary's greeting. + </p> + <p> + “Who has sent you?” the Buli rejoined quietly. + </p> + <p> + “God.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a new name in Viti Levu,” the Buli grinned. “Of what islands, + villages, or passes may he be chief?” + </p> + <p> + “He is the chief over all islands, all villages, all passes,” John + Starhurst answered solemnly. “He is the Lord over heaven and earth, and I + am come to bring His word to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Has he sent whale teeth?” was the insolent query. + </p> + <p> + “No, but more precious than whale teeth is the—” + </p> + <p> + “It is the custom, between chiefs, to send whale teeth,” the Buli + interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “Your chief is either a niggard, or you are a fool, to come empty-handed + into the mountains. Behold, a more generous than you is before you.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, he showed the whale tooth he had received from Erirola. + </p> + <p> + Narau groaned. + </p> + <p> + “It is the whale tooth of Ra Vatu,” he whispered to Starhurst. “I know it + well. Now are we undone.” + </p> + <p> + “A gracious thing,” the missionary answered, passing his hand through his + long beard and adjusting his glasses. “Ra Vatu has arranged that we should + be well received.” + </p> + <p> + But Narau groaned again, and backed away from the heels he had dogged so + faithfully. + </p> + <p> + “Ra Vatu is soon to become Lotu,” Starhurst explained, “and I have come + bringing the Lotu to you.” + </p> + <p> + “I want none of your Lotu,” said the Buli, proudly. “And it is in my mind + that you will be clubbed this day.” + </p> + <p> + The Buli nodded to one of his big mountaineers, who stepped forward, + swinging a club. Narau bolted into the nearest house, seeking to hide + among the woman and mats; but John Starhurst sprang in under the club and + threw his arms around his executioner's neck. From this point of vantage + he proceeded to argue. He was arguing for his life, and he knew it; but he + was neither excited nor afraid. + </p> + <p> + “It would be an evil thing for you to kill me,” he told the man. “I have + done you no wrong, nor have I done the Buli wrong.” + </p> + <p> + So well did he cling to the neck of the one man that they dared not strike + with their clubs. And he continued to cling and to dispute for his life + with those who clamored for his death. + </p> + <p> + “I am John Starhurst,” he went on calmly. “I have labored in Fiji for + three years, and I have done it for no profit. I am here among you for + good. Why should any man kill me? To kill me will not profit any man.” + </p> + <p> + The Buli stole a look at the whale tooth. He was well paid for the deed. + </p> + <p> + The missionary was surrounded by a mass of naked savages, all struggling + to get at him. The death song, which is the song of the oven, was raised, + and his expostulations could no longer be heard. But so cunningly did he + twine and wreathe his body about his captor's that the death blow could + not be struck. Erirola smiled, and the Buli grew angry. + </p> + <p> + “Away with you!” he cried. “A nice story to go back to the coast—a + dozen of you and one missionary, without weapons, weak as a woman, + overcoming all of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait, O Buli,” John Starhurst called out from the thick of the scuffle, + “and I will overcome even you. For my weapons are Truth and Right, and no + man can withstand them.” + </p> + <p> + “Come to me, then,” the Buli answered, “for my weapon is only a poor + miserable club, and, as you say, it cannot withstand you.” + </p> + <p> + The group separated from him, and John Starhurst stood alone, facing the + Buli, who was leaning on an enormous, knotted warclub. + </p> + <p> + “Come to me, missionary man, and overcome me,” the Buli challenged. + </p> + <p> + “Even so will I come to you and overcome you,” John Starhurst made answer, + first wiping his spectacles and settling them properly, then beginning his + advance. + </p> + <p> + The Buli raised the club and waited. + </p> + <p> + “In the first place, my death will profit you nothing,” began the + argument. + </p> + <p> + “I leave the answer to my club,” was the Buli's reply. + </p> + <p> + And to every point he made the same reply, at the same time watching the + missionary closely in order to forestall that cunning run-in under the + lifted club. Then, and for the first time, John Starhurst knew that his + death was at hand. He made no attempt to run in. Bareheaded, he stood in + the sun and prayed aloud—the mysterious figure of the inevitable + white man, who, with Bible, bullet, or rum bottle, has confronted the + amazed savage in his every stronghold. Even so stood John Starhurst in the + rock fortress of the Buli of Gatoka. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive them, for they know not what they do,” he prayed. “O Lord! Have + mercy upon Fiji. Have compassion for Fiji. O Jehovah, hear us for His + sake, Thy Son, whom Thou didst give that through Him all men might also + become Thy children. From Thee we came, and our mind is that to Thee we + may return. The land is dark, O Lord, the land is dark. But Thou art + mighty to save. Reach out Thy hand, O Lord, and save Fiji, poor cannibal + Fiji.” + </p> + <p> + The Buli grew impatient. + </p> + <p> + “Now will I answer thee,” he muttered, at the same time swinging his club + with both hands. + </p> + <p> + Narau, hiding among the women and the mats, heard the impact of the blow + and shuddered. Then the death song arose, and he knew his beloved + missionary's body was being dragged to the oven as he heard the words: + </p> + <p> + “Drag me gently. Drag me gently.” + </p> + <p> + “For I am the champion of my land.” + </p> + <p> + “Give thanks! Give thanks! Give thanks!” + </p> + <p> + Next, a single voice arose out of the din, asking: + </p> + <p> + “Where is the brave man?” + </p> + <p> + A hundred voices bellowed the answer: + </p> + <p> + “Gone to be dragged into the oven and cooked.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is the coward?” the single voice demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Gone to report!” the hundred voices bellowed back. “Gone to report! Gone + to report!” + </p> + <p> + Narau groaned in anguish of spirit. The words of the old song were true. + He was the coward, and nothing remained to him but to go and report. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MAUKI + </h2> + <p> + He weighed one hundred and ten pounds. His hair was kinky and negroid, and + he was black. He was peculiarly black. He was neither blue-black nor + purple-black, but plum-black. His name was Mauki, and he was the son of a + chief. He had three tambos. Tambo is Melanesian for taboo, and is first + cousin to that Polynesian word. Mauki's three tambos were as follows: + First, he must never shake hands with a woman, nor have a woman's hand + touch him or any of his personal belongings; secondly, he must never eat + clams nor any food from a fire in which clams had been cooked; thirdly, he + must never touch a crocodile, nor travel in a canoe that carried any part + of a crocodile even if as large as a tooth. + </p> + <p> + Of a different black were his teeth, which were deep black, or, perhaps + better, LAMP-black. They had been made so in a single night, by his + mother, who had compressed about them a powdered mineral which was dug + from the landslide back of Port Adams. Port Adams is a salt-water village + on Malaita, and Malaita is the most savage island in the Solomons—so + savage that no traders or planters have yet gained a foothold on it; + while, from the time of the earliest bêche-de-mer fishers and sandalwood + traders down to the latest labor recruiters equipped with automatic rifles + and gasolene engines, scores of white adventurers have been passed out by + tomahawks and soft-nosed Snider bullets. So Malaita remains today, in the + twentieth century, the stamping ground of the labor recruiters, who farm + its coasts for laborers who engage and contract themselves to toil on the + plantations of the neighboring and more civilized islands for a wage of + thirty dollars a year. The natives of those neighboring and more civilized + islands have themselves become too civilized to work on plantations. + </p> + <p> + Mauki's ears were pierced, not in one place, nor two places, but in a + couple of dozen places. In one of the smaller holes he carried a clay + pipe. The larger holes were too large for such use. The bowl of the pipe + would have fallen through. In fact, in the largest hole in each ear he + habitually wore round wooden plugs that were an even four inches in + diameter. Roughly speaking, the circumference of said holes was twelve and + one-half inches. Mauki was catholic in his tastes. In the various smaller + holes he carried such things as empty rifle cartridges, horseshoe nails, + copper screws, pieces of string, braids of sennit, strips of green leaf, + and, in the cool of the day, scarlet hibiscus flowers. From which it will + be seen that pockets were not necessary to his well-being. Besides, + pockets were impossible, for his only wearing apparel consisted of a piece + of calico several inches wide. A pocket knife he wore in his hair, the + blade snapped down on a kinky lock. His most prized possession was the + handle of a china cup, which he suspended from a ring of turtle-shell, + which, in turn, was passed through the partition-cartilage of his nose. + </p> + <p> + But in spite of embellishments, Mauki had a nice face. It was really a + pretty face, viewed by any standard, and for a Melanesian it was a + remarkably good-looking face. Its one fault was its lack of strength. It + was softly effeminate, almost girlish. The features were small, regular, + and delicate. The chin was weak, and the mouth was weak. There was no + strength nor character in the jaws, forehead, and nose. In the eyes only + could be caught any hint of the unknown quantities that were so large a + part of his make-up and that other persons could not understand. These + unknown quantities were pluck, pertinacity, fearlessness, imagination, and + cunning; and when they found expression in some consistent and striking + action, those about him were astounded. + </p> + <p> + Mauki's father was chief over the village at Port Adams, and thus, by + birth a salt-water man, Mauki was half amphibian. He knew the way of the + fishes and oysters, and the reef was an open book to him. Canoes, also, he + knew. He learned to swim when he was a year old. At seven years he could + hold his breath a full minute and swim straight down to bottom through + thirty feet of water. And at seven years he was stolen by the bushmen, who + cannot even swim and who are afraid of salt water. Thereafter Mauki saw + the sea only from a distance, through rifts in the jungle and from open + spaces on the high mountain sides. He became the slave of old Fanfoa, head + chief over a score of scattered bush-villages on the range-lips of + Malaita, the smoke of which, on calm mornings, is about the only evidence + the seafaring white men have of the teeming interior population. For the + whites do not penetrate Malaita. They tried it once, in the days when the + search was on for gold, but they always left their heads behind to grin + from the smoky rafters of the bushmen's huts. + </p> + <p> + When Mauki was a young man of seventeen, Fanfoa got out of tobacco. He got + dreadfully out of tobacco. It was hard times in all his villages. He had + been guilty of a mistake. Suo was a harbor so small that a large schooner + could not swing at anchor in it. It was surrounded by mangroves that + overhung the deep water. It was a trap, and into the trap sailed two white + men in a small ketch. They were after recruits, and they possessed much + tobacco and trade goods, to say nothing of three rifles and plenty of + ammunition. Now there were no salt-water men living at Suo, and it was + there that the bushmen could come down to the sea. The ketch did a + splendid traffic. It signed on twenty recruits the first day. Even old + Fanfoa signed on. And that same day the score of new recruits chopped off + the two white men's head, killed the boat's crew, and burned the ketch. + Thereafter, and for three months, there was tobacco and trade goods in + plenty and to spare in all the bush villages. Then came the man-of-war + that threw shells for miles into the hills, frightening the people out of + their villages and into the deeper bush. Next the man-of-war sent landing + parties ashore. The villages were all burned, along with the tobacco and + trade stuff. + </p> + <p> + The cocoanuts and bananas were chopped down, the taro gardens uprooted, + and the pigs and chickens killed. + </p> + <p> + It taught Fanfoa a lesson, but in the meantime he was out of tobacco. + Also, his young men were too frightened to sign on with the recruiting + vessels. That was why Fanfoa ordered his slave, Mauki, to be carried down + and signed on for half a case of tobacco advance, along with knives, axes, + calico, and beads, which he would pay for with his toil on the + plantations. Mauki was sorely frightened when they brought him on board + the schooner. He was a lamb led to the slaughter. White men were ferocious + creatures. They had to be, or else they would not make a practice of + venturing along the Malaita coast and into all harbors, two on a schooner, + when each schooner carried from fifteen to twenty blacks as boat's crew, + and often as high as sixty or seventy black recruits. In addition to this, + there was always the danger of the shore population, the sudden attack and + the cutting off of the schooner and all hands. Truly, white men must be + terrible. Besides, they were possessed of such devil-devils—rifles + that shot very rapidly many times, things of iron and brass that made the + schooners go when there was no wind, and boxes that talked and laughed + just as men talked and laughed. + </p> + <p> + Ay, and he had heard of one white man whose particular devil-devil was so + powerful that he could take out all his teeth and put them back at will. + </p> + <p> + Down into the cabin they took Mauki. On deck, the one white man kept guard + with two revolvers in his belt. In the cabin the other white man sat with + a book before him, in which he inscribed strange marks and lines. He + looked at Mauki as though he had been a pig or a fowl, glanced under the + hollows of his arms, and wrote in the book. Then he held out the writing + stick and Mauki just barely touched it with his hand, in so doing pledging + himself to toil for three years on the plantations of the Moongleam Soap + Company. It was not explained to him that the will of the ferocious white + men would be used to enforce the pledge, and that, behind all, for the + same use, was all the power and all the warships of Great Britain. + </p> + <p> + Other blacks there were on board, from unheard-of far places, and when the + white man spoke to them, they tore the long feather from Mauki's hair, cut + that same hair short, and wrapped about his waist a lava-lava of bright + yellow calico. + </p> + <p> + After many days on the schooner, and after beholding more land and islands + than he had ever dreamed of, he was landed on New Georgia, and put to work + in the field clearing jungle and cutting cane grass. For the first time he + knew what work was. Even as a slave to Fanfoa he had not worked like this. + And he did not like work. It was up at dawn and in at dark, on two meals a + day. And the food was tiresome. For weeks at a time they were given + nothing but sweet potatoes to eat, and for weeks at a time it would be + nothing but rice. He cut out the cocoanut from the shells day after day; + and for long days and weeks he fed the fires that smoked the copra, till + his eyes got sore and he was set to felling trees. He was a good axe-man, + and later he was put in the bridge-building gang. Once, he was punished by + being put in the road-building gang. At times he served as boat's crew in + the whale boats, when they brought in copra from distant beaches or when + the white men went out to dynamite fish. + </p> + <p> + Among other things he learned beche-de-mer English, with which he could + talk with all white men, and with all recruits who otherwise would have + talked in a thousand different dialects. Also, he learned certain things + about the white men, principally that they kept their word. If they told a + boy he was going to receive a stick of tobacco, he got it. If they told a + boy they would knock seven bells out of him if he did a certain thing, + when he did that thing, seven bells invariably were knocked out of him. + Mauki did not know what seven bells were, but they occurred in + beche-de-mer, and he imagined them to be the blood and teeth that + sometimes accompanied the process of knocking out seven bells. One other + thing he learned: no boy was struck or punished unless he did wrong. Even + when the white men were drunk, as they were frequently, they never struck + unless a rule had been broken. + </p> + <p> + Mauki did not like the plantation. He hated work, and he was the son of a + chief. Furthermore, it was ten years since he had been stolen from Port + Adams by Fanfoa, and he was homesick. He was even homesick for the slavery + under Fanfoa. So he ran away. He struck back into the bush, with the idea + of working southward to the beach and stealing a canoe in which to go home + to Port Adams. + </p> + <p> + But the fever got him, and he was captured and brought back more dead than + alive. + </p> + <p> + A second time he ran away, in the company of two Malaita boys. They got + down the coast twenty miles, and were hidden in the hut of a Malaita + freeman, who dwelt in that village. But in the dead of night two white men + came, who were not afraid of all the village people and who knocked seven + bells out of the three runaways, tied them like pigs, and tossed them into + the whale boat. But the man in whose house they had hidden—seven + times seven bells must have been knocked out of him from the way the hair, + skin, and teeth flew, and he was discouraged for the rest of his natural + life from harboring runaway laborers. + </p> + <p> + For a year Mauki toiled on. Then he was made a house-boy, and had good + food and easy times, with light work in keeping the house clean and + serving the white men with whiskey and beer at all hours of the day and + most hours of the night. He liked it, but he liked Port Adams more. He had + two years longer to serve, but two years were too long for him in the + throes of homesickness. He had grown wiser with his year of service, and, + being now a house-boy, he had opportunity. He had the cleaning of the + rifles, and he knew where the key to the store room was hung. He planned + to escape, and one night ten Malaita boys and one boy from San Cristoval + sneaked from the barracks and dragged one of the whale boats down to the + beach. It was Mauki who supplied the key that opened the padlock on the + boat, and it was Mauki who equipped the boat with a dozen Winchesters, an + immense amount of ammunition, a case of dynamite with detonators and fuse, + and ten cases of tobacco. + </p> + <p> + The northwest monsoon was blowing, and they fled south in the night time, + hiding by day on detached and uninhabited islets, or dragging their whale + boat into the bush on the large islands. Thus they gained Guadalcanar, + skirted halfway along it, and crossed the Indispensable Straits to Florida + Island. It was here that they killed the San Cristoval boy, saving his + head and cooking and eating the rest of him. The Malaita coast was only + twenty miles away, but the last night a strong current and baffling winds + prevented them from gaining across. Daylight found them still several + miles from their goal. But daylight brought a cutter, in which were two + white men, who were not afraid of eleven Malaita men armed with twelve + rifles. Mauki and his companions were carried back to Tulagi, where lived + the great white master of all the white men. And the great white master + held a court, after which, one by one, the runaways were tied up and given + twenty lashes each, and sentenced to a fine of fifteen dollars. They were + sent back to New Georgia, where the white men knocked seven bells out of + them all around and put them to work. But Mauki was no longer house-boy. + He was put in the road-making gang. The fine of fifteen dollars had been + paid by the white men from whom he had run away, and he was told that he + would have to work it out, which meant six months' additional toil. + Further, his share of the stolen tobacco earned him another year of toil. + </p> + <p> + Port Adams was now three years and a half away, so he stole a canoe one + night, hid on the islets in Manning Straits, passed through the Straits, + and began working along the eastern coast of Ysabel, only to be captured, + two-thirds of the way along, by the white men on Meringe Lagoon. After a + week, he escaped from them and took to the bush. There were no bush + natives on Ysabel, only salt-water men, who were all Christians. The white + men put up a reward of five-hundred sticks of tobacco, and every time + Mauki ventured down to the sea to steal a canoe he was chased by the + salt-water men. Four months of this passed, when, the reward having been + raised to a thousand sticks, he was caught and sent back to New Georgia + and the road-building gang. Now a thousand sticks are worth fifty dollars, + and Mauki had to pay the reward himself, which required a year and eight + months' labor. So Port Adams was now five years away. + </p> + <p> + His homesickness was greater than ever, and it did not appeal to him to + settle down and be good, work out his four years, and go home. The next + time, he was caught in the very act of running away. His case was brought + before Mr. Haveby, the island manager of the Moongleam Soap Company, who + adjudged him an incorrigible. The Company had plantations on the Santa + Cruz Islands, hundreds of miles across the sea, and there it sent its + Solomon Islands' incorrigibles. And there Mauki was sent, though he never + arrived. The schooner stopped at Santa Anna, and in the night Mauki swam + ashore, where he stole two rifles and a case of tobacco from the trader + and got away in a canoe to Cristoval. Malaita was now to the north, fifty + or sixty miles away. But when he attempted the passage, he was caught by a + light gale and driven back to Santa Anna, where the trader clapped him in + irons and held him against the return of the schooner from Santa Cruz. The + two rifles the trader recovered, but the case of tobacco was charged up to + Mauki at the rate of another year. The sum of years he now owed the + Company was six. + </p> + <p> + On the way back to New Georgia, the schooner dropped anchor in Marau + Sound, which lies at the southeastern extremity of Guadalcanar. Mauki swam + ashore with handcuffs on his wrists and got away to the bush. The schooner + went on, but the Moongleam trader ashore offered a thousand sticks, and to + him Mauki was brought by the bushmen with a year and eight months tacked + on to his account. Again, and before the schooner called in, he got away, + this time in a whale boat accompanied by a case of the trader's tobacco. + But a northwest gale wrecked him upon Ugi, where the Christian natives + stole his tobacco and turned him over to the Moongleam trader who resided + there. The tobacco the natives stole meant another year for him, and the + tale was now eight years and a half. + </p> + <p> + “We'll send him to Lord Howe,” said Mr. Haveby. “Bunster is there, and + we'll let them settle it between them. It will be a case, I imagine, of + Mauki getting Bunster, or Bunster getting Mauki, and good riddance in + either event.” + </p> + <p> + If one leaves Meringe Lagoon, on Ysabel, and steers a course due north, + magnetic, at the end of one hundred and fifty miles he will lift the + pounded coral beaches of Lord Howe above the sea. Lord Howe is a ring of + land some one hundred and fifty miles in circumference, several hundred + yards wide at its widest, and towering in places to a height of ten feet + above sea level. Inside this ring of sand is a mighty lagoon studded with + coral patches. Lord Howe belongs to the Solomons neither geographically + nor ethnologically. It is an atoll, while the Solomons are high islands; + and its people and language are Polynesian, while the inhabitants of the + Solomons are Melanesian. + </p> + <p> + Lord Howe has been populated by the westward Polynesian drift which + continues to this day, big outrigger canoes being washed upon its beaches + by the southeast trade. That there has been a slight Melanesian drift in + the period of the northwest monsoon, is also evident. + </p> + <p> + Nobody ever comes to Lord Howe, or Ontong-Java as it is sometimes called. + Thomas Cook & Son do not sell tickets to it, and tourists do not dream + of its existence. Not even a white missionary has landed on its shore. Its + five thousand natives are as peaceable as they are primitive. Yet they + were not always peaceable. The Sailing Directions speak of them as hostile + and treacherous. But the men who compile the Sailing Directions have never + heard of the change that was worked in the hearts of the inhabitants, who, + not many years ago, cut off a big bark and killed all hands with the + exception of the second mate. The survivor carried the news to his + brothers. The captains of three trading schooners returned with him to + Lord Howe. They sailed their vessels right into the lagoon and proceeded + to preach the white man's gospel that only white men shall kill white men + and that the lesser breeds must keep hands off. The schooners sailed up + and down the lagoon, harrying and destroying. There was no escape from the + narrow sand-circle, no bush to which to flee. The men were shot down at + sight, and there was no avoiding being sighted. The villages were burned, + the canoes smashed, the chickens and pigs killed, and the precious + cocoanut trees chopped down. For a month this continued, when the schooner + sailed away; but the fear of the white man had been seared into the souls + of the islanders and never again were they rash enough to harm one. + </p> + <p> + Max Bunster was the one white man on Lord Howe, trading in the pay of the + ubiquitous Moongleam Soap Company. And the Company billeted him on Lord + Howe, because, next to getting rid of him, it was the most out-of-the-way + place to be found. That the Company did not get rid of him was due to the + difficulty of finding another man to take his place. He was a strapping + big German, with something wrong in his brain. Semi-madness would be a + charitable statement of his condition. He was a bully and a coward, and a + thrice-bigger savage than any savage on the island. + </p> + <p> + Being a coward, his brutality was of the cowardly order. When he first + went into the Company's employ, he was stationed on Savo. When a + consumptive colonial was sent to take his place, he beat him up with his + fists and sent him off a wreck in the schooner that brought him. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Haveby next selected a young Yorkshire giant to relieve Bunster. The + Yorkshire man had a reputation as a bruiser and preferred fighting to + eating. But Bunster wouldn't fight. He was a regular little lamb—for + ten days, at the end of which time the Yorkshire man was prostrated by a + combined attack of dysentery and fever. Then Bunster went for him, among + other things getting him down and jumping on him a score or so of times. + Afraid of what would happen when his victim recovered. Bunster fled away + in a cutter to Guvutu, where he signalized himself by beating up a young + Englishman already crippled by a Boer bullet through both hips. + </p> + <p> + Then it was that Mr. Haveby sent Bunster to Lord Howe, the falling-off + place. He celebrated his landing by mopping up half a case of gin and by + thrashing the elderly and wheezy mate of the schooner which had brought + him. When the schooner departed, he called the kanakas down to the beach + and challenged them to throw him in a wrestling bout, promising a case of + tobacco to the one who succeeded. Three kanakas he threw, but was promptly + thrown by a fourth, who, instead of receiving the tobacco, got a bullet + through his lungs. + </p> + <p> + And so began Bunster's reign on Lord Howe. Three thousand people lived in + the principal village; but it was deserted, even in broad day, when he + passed through. Men, women, and children fled before him. Even the dogs + and pigs got out of the way, while the king was not above hiding under a + mat. The two prime ministers lived in terror of Bunster, who never + discussed any moot subject, but struck out with his fists instead. + </p> + <p> + And to Lord Howe came Mauki, to toil for Bunster for eight long years and + a half. There was no escaping from Lord Howe. For better or worse, Bunster + and he were tied together. Bunster weighed two hundred pounds. Mauki + weighed one hundred and ten. Bunster was a degenerate brute. But Mauki was + a primitive savage. While both had wills and ways of their own. + </p> + <p> + Mauki had no idea of the sort of master he was to work for. He had had no + warnings, and he had concluded as a matter of course that Bunster would be + like other white men, a drinker of much whiskey, a ruler and a lawgiver + who always kept his word and who never struck a boy undeserved. Bunster + had the advantage. He knew all about Mauki, and gloated over the coming + into possession of him. The last cook was suffering from a broken arm and + a dislocated shoulder, so Bunster made Mauki cook and general house-boy. + </p> + <p> + And Mauki soon learned that there were white men and white men. On the + very day the schooner departed he was ordered to buy a chicken from + Samisee, the native Tongan missionary. But Samisee had sailed across the + lagoon and would not be back for three days. Mauki returned with the + information. He climbed the steep stairway (the house stood on piles + twelve feet above the sand), and entered the living room to report. The + trader demanded the chicken. Mauki opened his mouth to explain the + missionary's absence. But Bunster did not care for explanations. He struck + out with his fist. The blow caught Mauki on the mouth and lifted him into + the air. Clear through the doorway he flew, across the narrow veranda, + breaking the top railing, and down to the ground. + </p> + <p> + His lips were a contused, shapeless mass, and his mouth was full of blood + and broken teeth. + </p> + <p> + “That'll teach you that back talk don't go with me,” the trader shouted, + purple with rage, peering down at him over the broken railing. + </p> + <p> + Mauki had never met a white man like this, and he resolved to walk small + and never offend. He saw the boat boys knocked about, and one of them put + in irons for three days with nothing to eat for the crime of breaking a + rowlock while pulling. Then, too, he heard the gossip of the village and + learned why Bunster had taken a third wife—by force, as was well + known. The first and second wives lay in the graveyard, under the white + coral sand, with slabs of coral rock at head and feet. They had died, it + was said, from beatings he had given them. The third wife was certainly + ill-used, as Mauki could see for himself. + </p> + <p> + But there was no way by which to avoid offending the white man who seemed + offended with life. When Mauki kept silent, he was struck and called a + sullen brute. When he spoke, he was struck for giving back talk. When he + was grave, Bunster accused him of plotting and gave him a thrashing in + advance; and when he strove to be cheerful and to smile, he was charged + with sneering at his lord and master and given a taste of stick. Bunster + was a devil. + </p> + <p> + The village would have done for him, had it not remembered the lesson of + the three schooners. It might have done for him anyway, if there had been + a bush to which to flee. As it was, the murder of the white men, of any + white man, would bring a man-of-war that would kill the offenders and chop + down the precious cocoanut trees. Then there were the boat boys, with + minds fully made up to drown him by accident at the first opportunity to + capsize the cutter. Only Bunster saw to it that the boat did not capsize. + </p> + <p> + Mauki was of a different breed, and escape being impossible while Bunster + lived, he was resolved to get the white man. The trouble was that he could + never find a chance. Bunster was always on guard. Day and night his + revolvers were ready to hand. He permitted nobody to pass behind his back, + as Mauki learned after having been knocked down several times. Bunster + knew that he had more to fear from the good-natured, even sweet-faced, + Malaita boy than from the entire population of Lord Howe; and it gave + added zest to the programme of torment he was carrying out. And Mauki + walked small, accepted his punishments, and waited. + </p> + <p> + All other white men had respected his tambos, but not so Bunster. + </p> + <p> + Mauki's weekly allowance of tobacco was two sticks. Bunster passed them to + his woman and ordered Mauki to receive them from her hand. But this could + not be, and Mauki went without his tobacco. In the same way he was made to + miss many a meal, and to go hungry many a day. He was ordered to make + chowder out of the big clams that grew in the lagoon. This he could not + do, for clams were tambo. Six times in succession he refused to touch the + clams, and six times he was knocked senseless. Bunster knew that the boy + would die first, but called his refusal mutiny, and would have killed him + had there been another cook to take his place. + </p> + <p> + One of the trader's favorite tricks was to catch Mauki's kinky locks and + bat his head against the wall. Another trick was to catch Mauki unawares + and thrust the live end of a cigar against his flesh. This Bunster called + vaccination, and Mauki was vaccinated a number of times a week. Once, in a + rage, Bunster ripped the cup handle from Mauki's nose, tearing the hole + clear out of the cartilage. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what a mug!” was his comment, when he surveyed the damage he had + wrought. + </p> + <p> + The skin of a shark is like sandpaper, but the skin of a ray fish is like + a rasp. In the South Seas the natives use it as a wood file in smoothing + down canoes and paddles. Bunster had a mitten made of ray fish skin. The + first time he tried it on Mauki, with one sweep of the hand it fetched the + skin off his back from neck to armpit. Bunster was delighted. He gave his + wife a taste of the mitten, and tried it out thoroughly on the boat boys. + The prime ministers came in for a stroke each, and they had to grin and + take it for a joke. + </p> + <p> + “Laugh, damn you, laugh!” was the cue he gave. + </p> + <p> + Mauki came in for the largest share of the mitten. Never a day passed + without a caress from it. There were times when the loss of so much + cuticle kept him awake at night, and often the half-healed surface was + raked raw afresh by the facetious Mr. Bunster. Mauki continued his patient + wait, secure in the knowledge that sooner or later his time would come. + And he knew just what he was going to do, down to the smallest detail, + when the time did come. + </p> + <p> + One morning Bunster got up in a mood for knocking seven bells out of the + universe. He began on Mauki, and wound up on Mauki, in the interval + knocking down his wife and hammering all the boat boys. At breakfast he + called the coffee slops and threw the scalding contents of the cup into + Mauki's face. By ten o'clock Bunster was shivering with ague, and half an + hour later he was burning with fever. It was no ordinary attack. It + quickly became pernicious, and developed into black-water fever. The days + passed, and he grew weaker and weaker, never leaving his bed. Mauki waited + and watched, the while his skin grew intact once more. He ordered the boys + to beach the cutter, scrub her bottom, and give her a general overhauling. + They thought the order emanated from Bunster, and they obeyed. But Bunster + at the time was lying unconscious and giving no orders. This was Mauki's + chance, but still he waited. + </p> + <p> + When the worst was past, and Bunster lay convalescent and conscious, but + weak as a baby, Mauki packed his few trinkets, including the china cup + handle, into his trade box. Then he went over to the village and + interviewed the king and his two prime ministers. + </p> + <p> + “This fella Bunster, him good fella you like too much?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + They explained in one voice that they liked the trader not at all. The + ministers poured forth a recital of all the indignities and wrongs that + had been heaped upon them. The king broke down and wept. Mauki interrupted + rudely. + </p> + <p> + “You savve me—me big fella marster my country. You no like 'm this + fella white marster. Me no like 'm. Plenty good you put hundred cocoanut, + two hundred cocoanut, three hundred cocoanut along cutter. Him finish, you + go sleep 'm good fella. Altogether kanaka sleep m good fella. Bime by big + fella noise along house, you no savve hear 'm that fella noise. You + altogether sleep strong fella too much.” + </p> + <p> + In like manner Mauki interviewed the boat boys. Then he ordered Bunster's + wife to return to her family house. Had she refused, he would have been in + a quandary, for his tambo would not have permitted him to lay hands on + her. + </p> + <p> + The house deserted, he entered the sleeping room, where the trader lay in + a doze. Mauki first removed the revolvers, then placed the ray fish mitten + on his hand. Bunster's first warning was a stroke of the mitten that + removed the skin the full length of his nose. + </p> + <p> + “Good fella, eh?” Mauki grinned, between two strokes, one of which swept + the forehead bare and the other of which cleaned off one side of his face. + “Laugh, damn you, laugh.” + </p> + <p> + Mauki did his work throughly, and the kanakas, hiding in their houses, + heard the “big fella noise” that Bunster made and continued to make for an + hour or more. + </p> + <p> + When Mauki was done, he carried the boat compass and all the rifles and + ammunition down to the cutter, which he proceeded to ballast with cases of + tobacco. It was while engaged in this that a hideous, skinless thing came + out of the house and ran screaming down the beach till it fell in the sand + and mowed and gibbered under the scorching sun. Mauki looked toward it and + hesitated. Then he went over and removed the head, which he wrapped in a + mat and stowed in the stern locker of the cutter. + </p> + <p> + So soundly did the kanakas sleep through that long hot day that they did + not see the cutter run out through the passage and head south, + close-hauled on the southeast trade. Nor was the cutter ever sighted on + that long tack to the shores of Ysabel, and during the tedious head-beat + from there to Malaita. He landed at Port Adams with a wealth of rifles and + tobacco such as no one man had ever possessed before. But he did not stop + there. He had taken a white man's head, and only the bush could shelter + him. So back he went to the bush villages, where he shot old Fanfoa and + half a dozen of the chief men, and made himself the chief over all the + villages. When his father died, Mauki's brother ruled in Port Adams, and + joined together, salt-water men and bushmen, the resulting combination was + the strongest of the ten score fighting tribes of Malaita. + </p> + <p> + More than his fear of the British government was Mauki's fear of the + all-powerful Moongleam Soap Company; and one day a message came up to him + in the bush, reminding him that he owed the Company eight and one-half + years of labor. He sent back a favorable answer, and then appeared the + inevitable white man, the captain of the schooner, the only white man + during Mauki's reign, who ventured the bush and came out alive. This man + not only came out, but he brought with him seven hundred and fifty dollars + in gold sovereigns—the money price of eight years and a half of + labor plus the cost price of certain rifles and cases of tobacco. + </p> + <p> + Mauki no longer weighs one hundred and ten pounds. His stomach is three + times its former girth, and he has four wives. He has many other things—rifles + and revolvers, the handle of a china cup, and an excellent collection of + bushmen's heads. But more precious than the entire collection is another + head, perfectly dried and cured, with sandy hair and a yellowish beard, + which is kept wrapped in the finest of fibre lava-lavas. When Mauki goes + to war with villages beyond his realm, he invariably gets out this head, + and alone in his grass palace, contemplates it long and solemnly. At such + times the hush of death falls on the village, and not even a pickaninny + dares make a noise. The head is esteemed the most powerful devil-devil on + Malaita, and to the possession of it is ascribed all of Mauki's greatness. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + “YAH! YAH! YAH!” + </h2> + <p> + He was a whiskey-guzzling Scotchman, and he downed his whiskey neat, + beginning with his first tot punctually at six in the morning, and + thereafter repeating it at regular intervals throughout the day till + bedtime, which was usually midnight. He slept but five hours out of the + twenty-four, and for the remaining nineteen hours he was quietly and + decently drunk. During the eight weeks I spent with him on Oolong Atoll, I + never saw him draw a sober breath. In fact, his sleep was so short that he + never had time to sober up. It was the most beautiful and orderly + perennial drunk I have ever observed. + </p> + <p> + McAllister was his name. He was an old man, and very shaky on his pins. + His hand trembled as with a palsy, especially noticeable when he poured + his whiskey, though I never knew him to spill a drop. He had been + twenty-eight years in Melanesia, ranging from German New Guinea to the + German Solomons, and so thoroughly had he become identified with that + portion of the world, that he habitually spoke in that bastard lingo + called “bech-de-mer.” Thus, in conversation with me, SUN HE COME UP meant + sunrise; KAI-KAI HE STOP meant that dinner was served; and BELLY BELONG ME + WALK ABOUT meant that he was sick at his stomach. He was a small man, and + a withered one, burned inside and outside by ardent spirits and ardent + sun. He was a cinder, a bit of a clinker of a man, a little animated + clinker, not yet quite cold, that moved stiffly and by starts and jerks + like an automaton. A gust of wind would have blown him away. He weighed + ninety pounds. + </p> + <p> + But the immense thing about him was the power with which he ruled. Oolong + Atoll was one hundred and forty miles in circumference. One steered by + compass course in its lagoon. It was populated by five thousand + Polynesians, all strapping men and women, many of them standing six feet + in height and weighing a couple of hundred pounds. Oolong was two hundred + and fifty miles from the nearest land. Twice a year a little schooner + called to collect copra. The one white man on Oolong was McAllister, petty + trader and unintermittent guzzler; and he ruled Oolong and its six + thousand savages with an iron hand. He said come, and they came, go, and + they went. They never questioned his will nor judgment. He was + cantankerous as only an aged Scotchman can be, and interfered continually + in their personal affairs. When Nugu, the king's daughter, wanted to marry + Haunau from the other end of the atoll, her father said yes; but + McAllister said no, and the marriage never came off. When the king wanted + to buy a certain islet in the lagoon from the chief priest, McAllister + said no. The king was in debt to the Company to the tune of 180,000 + cocoanuts, and until that was paid he was not to spend a single cocoanut + on anything else. + </p> + <p> + And yet the king and his people did not love McAllister. In truth, they + hated him horribly, and, to my knowledge, the whole population, with the + priests at the head, tried vainly for three months to pray him to death. + The devil-devils they sent after him were awe-inspiring, but since + McAllister did not believe in devil-devils, they were without power over + him. With drunken Scotchmen all signs fail. They gathered up scraps of + food which had touched his lips, an empty whiskey bottle, a cocoanut from + which he had drunk, and even his spittle, and performed all kinds of + deviltries over them. But McAllister lived on. His health was superb. He + never caught fever; nor coughs nor colds; dysentery passed him by; and the + malignant ulcers and vile skin diseases that attack blacks and whites + alike in that climate never fastened upon him. He must have been so + saturated with alcohol as to defy the lodgment of germs. I used to imagine + them falling to the ground in showers of microscopic cinders as fast as + they entered his whiskey-sodden aura. No one loved him, not even germs, + while he loved only whiskey, and still he lived. + </p> + <p> + I was puzzled. I could not understand six thousand natives putting up with + that withered shrimp of a tyrant. It was a miracle that he had not died + suddenly long since. Unlike the cowardly Melanesians, the people were + high-stomached and warlike. In the big graveyard, at head and feet of the + graves, were relics of past sanguinary history—blubber-spades, rusty + old bayonets and cutlasses, copper bolts, rudder-irons, harpoons, bomb + guns, bricks that could have come from nowhere but a whaler's trying-out + furnace, and old brass pieces of the sixteenth century that verified the + traditions of the early Spanish navigators. Ship after ship had come to + grief on Oolong. Not thirty years before, the whaler BLENNERDALE, running + into the lagoon for repair, had been cut off with all hands. In similar + fashion had the crew of the GASKET, a sandalwood trader, perished. There + was a big French bark, the TOULON, becalmed off the atoll, which the + islanders boarded after a sharp tussle and wrecked in the Lipau Passage, + the captain and a handful of sailors escaping in the longboat. Then there + were the Spanish pieces, which told of the loss of one of the early + explorers. All this, of the vessels named, is a matter of history, and is + to be found in the SOUTH PACIFIC SAILING DIRECTORY. But that there was + other history, unwritten, I was yet to learn. In the meantime I puzzled + why six thousand primitive savages let one degenerate Scotch despot live. + </p> + <p> + One hot afternoon McAllister and I sat on the veranda looking out over the + lagoon, with all its wonder of jeweled colors. At our backs, across the + hundred yards of palm-studded sand, the outer surf roared on the reef. It + was dreadfully warm. We were in four degree south latitude and the sun was + directly overhead, having crossed the Line a few days before on its + journey south. There was no wind—not even a catspaw. The season of + the southeast trade was drawing to an early close, and the northwest + monsoon had not yet begun to blow. + </p> + <p> + “They can't dance worth a damn,” said McAllister. + </p> + <p> + I had happened to mention that the Polynesian dances were superior to the + Papuan, and this McAllister had denied, for no other reason than his + cantankerousness. But it was too hot to argue, and I said nothing. + Besides, I had never seen the Oolong people dance. + </p> + <p> + “I'll prove it to you,” he announced, beckoning to the black New Hanover + boy, a labor recruit, who served as cook and general house servant. “Hey, + you, boy, you tell 'm one fella king come along me.” + </p> + <p> + The boy departed, and back came the prime minister, perturbed, ill at + ease, and garrulous with apologetic explanation. In short, the king slept, + and was not to be disturbed. + </p> + <p> + “King he plenty strong fella sleep,” was his final sentence. + </p> + <p> + McAllister was in such a rage that the prime minister incontinently fled, + to return with the king himself. They were a magnificent pair, the king + especially, who must have been all of six feet three inches in height. His + features had the eagle-like quality that is so frequently found in those + of the North American Indian. He had been molded and born to rule. His + eyes flashed as he listened, but right meekly he obeyed McAllister's + command to fetch a couple of hundred of the best dancers, male and female, + in the village. And dance they did, for two mortal hours, under that + broiling sun. They did not love him for it, and little he cared, in the + end dismissing them with abuse and sneers. + </p> + <p> + The abject servility of those magnificent savages was terrifying. How + could it be? What was the secret of his rule? More and more I puzzled as + the days went by, and though I observed perpetual examples of his + undisputed sovereignty, never a clew was there as to how it was. + </p> + <p> + One day I happened to speak of my disappointment in failing to trade for a + beautiful pair of orange cowries. The pair was worth five pounds in Sydney + if it was worth a cent. I had offered two hundred sticks of tobacco to the + owner, who had held out for three hundred. When I casually mentioned the + situation, McAllister immediately sent for the man, took the shells from + him, and turned them over to me. Fifty sticks were all he permitted me to + pay for them. The man accepted the tobacco and seemed overjoyed at getting + off so easily. As for me, I resolved to keep a bridle on my tongue in the + future. And still I mulled over the secret of McAllister's power. I even + went to the extent of asking him directly, but all he did was to cock one + eye, look wise, and take another drink. + </p> + <p> + One night I was out fishing in the lagoon with Oti, the man who had been + mulcted of the cowries. Privily, I had made up to him an additional + hundred and fifty sticks, and he had come to regard me with a respect that + was almost veneration, which was curious, seeing that he was an old man, + twice my age at least. + </p> + <p> + “What name you fella kanaka all the same pickaninny?” I began on him. + “This fella trader he one fella. You fella kanaka plenty fella too much. + You fella kanaka just like 'm dog—plenty fright along that fella + trader. He no eat you, fella. He no get 'm teeth along him. What name you + too much fright?” + </p> + <p> + “S'pose plenty fella kanaka kill 'm?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “He die,” I retorted. “You fella kanaka kill 'm plenty fella white man + long time before. What name you fright this fella white man?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, we kill 'm plenty,” was his answer. “My word! Any amount! Long time + before. One time, me young fella too much, one big fella ship he stop + outside. Wind he no blow. Plenty fella kanaka we get 'm canoe, plenty + fella canoe, we go catch 'm that fella ship. My word—we catch 'm big + fella fight. Two, three white men shoot like hell. We no fright. We come + alongside, we go up side, plenty fella, maybe I think fifty-ten (five + hundred). One fella white Mary (woman) belong that fella ship. Never + before I see 'm white Mary. Bime by plenty white man finish. One fella + skipper he no die. Five fella, six fella white man no die. Skipper he sing + out. Some fella white man he fight. Some fella white man he lower away + boat. After that, all together over the side they go. Skipper he sling + white Mary down. After that they washee (row) strong fella plenty too + much. Father belong me, that time he strong fella. He throw 'm one fella + spear. That fella spear he go in one side that white Mary. He no stop. My + word, he go out other side that fella Mary. She finish. Me no fright. + Plenty kanaka too much no fright.” + </p> + <p> + Old Oti's pride had been touched, for he suddenly stripped down his + lava-lava and showed me the unmistakable scar of a bullet. Before I could + speak, his line ran out suddenly. He checked it and attempted to haul in, + but found that the fish had run around a coral branch. Casting a look of + reproach at me for having beguiled him from his watchfulness, he went over + the side, feet first, turning over after he got under and following his + line down to bottom. The water was ten fathoms. I leaned over and watched + the play of his feet, growing dim and dimmer, as they stirred the wan + phosphorescence into ghostly fires. Ten fathoms—sixty feet—it + was nothing to him, an old man, compared with the value of a hook and + line. After what seemed five minutes, though it could not have been more + than a minute, I saw him flaming whitely upward. He broke surface and + dropped a ten pound rock cod into the canoe, the line and hook intact, the + latter still fast in the fish's mouth. + </p> + <p> + “It may be,” I said remorselessly. “You no fright long ago. You plenty + fright now along that fella trader.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, plenty fright,” he confessed, with an air of dismissing the subject. + For half an hour we pulled up our lines and flung them out in silence. + Then small fish-sharks began to bite, and after losing a hook apiece, we + hauled in and waited for the sharks to go their way. + </p> + <p> + “I speak you true,” Oti broke into speech, “then you savve we fright now.” + </p> + <p> + I lighted up my pipe and waited, and the story that Oti told me in + atrocious bech-de-mer I here turn into proper English. Otherwise, in + spirit and order of narrative, the tale is as it fell from Oti's lips. + </p> + <p> + “It was after that that we were very proud. We had fought many times with + the strange white men who live upon the sea, and always we had beaten + them. A few of us were killed, but what was that compared with the stores + of wealth of a thousand thousand kinds that we found on the ships? And + then one day, maybe twenty years ago, or twenty-five, there came a + schooner right through the passage and into the lagoon. It was a large + schooner with three masts. She had five white men and maybe forty boat's + crew, black fellows from New Guinea and New Britain; and she had come to + fish beche-de-mer. She lay at anchor across the lagoon from here, at + Pauloo, and her boats scattered out everywhere, making camps on the + beaches where they cured the beche-de-mer. This made them weak by dividing + them, for those who fished here and those on the schooner at Pauloo were + fifty miles apart, and there were others farther away still. + </p> + <p> + “Our king and headmen held council, and I was one in the canoe that + paddled all afternoon and all night across the lagoon, bringing word to + the people of Pauloo that in the morning we would attack the fishing camps + at the one time and that it was for them to take the schooner. We who + brought the word were tired with the paddling, but we took part in the + attack. On the schooner were two white men, the skipper and the second + mate, with half a dozen black boys. The skipper with three boys we caught + on shore and killed, but first eight of us the skipper killed with his two + revolvers. We fought close together, you see, at hand grapples. + </p> + <p> + “The noise of our fighting told the mate what was happening, and he put + food and water and a sail in the small dingy, which was so small that it + was no more than twelve feet long. We came down upon the schooner, a + thousand men, covering the lagoon with our canoes. Also, we were blowing + conch shells, singing war songs, and striking the sides of the canoes with + our paddles. What chance had one white man and three black boys against + us? No chance at all, and the mate knew it. + </p> + <p> + “White men are hell. I have watched them much, and I am an old man now, + and I understand at last why the white men have taken to themselves all + the islands in the sea. It is because they are hell. Here are you in the + canoe with me. You are hardly more than a boy. You are not wise, for each + day I tell you many things you do not know. When I was a little + pickaninny, I knew more about fish and the ways of fish than you know now. + I am an old man, but I swim down to the bottom of the lagoon, and you + cannot follow me. What are you good for, anyway? I do not know, except to + fight. I have never seen you fight, yet I know that you are like your + brothers and that you will fight like hell. Also, you are a fool, like + your brothers. You do not know when you are beaten. You will fight until + you die, and then it will be too late to know that you are beaten. + </p> + <p> + “Now behold what this mate did. As we came down upon him, covering the sea + and blowing our conches, he put off from the schooner in the small boat, + along with the three black boys, and rowed for the passage. There again he + was a fool, for no wise man would put out to sea in so small a boat. The + sides of it were not four inches above the water. Twenty canoes went after + him, filled with two hundred young men. We paddled five fathoms while his + black boys were rowing one fathom. He had no chance, but he was a fool. He + stood up in the boat with a rifle, and he shot many times. He was not a + good shot, but as we drew close many of us were wounded and killed. But + still he had no chance. + </p> + <p> + “I remember that all the time he was smoking a cigar. When we were forty + feet away and coming fast, he dropped the rifle, lighted a stick of + dynamite with the cigar, and threw it at us. He lighted another and + another, and threw them at us very rapidly, many of them. I know now that + he must have split the ends of the fuses and stuck in match heads, because + they lighted so quickly. Also, the fuses were very short. Sometimes the + dynamite sticks went off in the air, but most of them went off in the + canoes. And each time they went off in a canoe, that canoe was finished. + Of the twenty canoes, the half were smashed to pieces. The canoe I was in + was so smashed, and likewise the two men who sat next to me. The dynamite + fell between them. The other canoes turned and ran away. Then that mate + yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' at us. Also he went at us again with his rifle, so + that many were killed through the back as they fled away. And all the time + the black boys in the boat went on rowing. You see, I told you true, that + mate was hell. + </p> + <p> + “Nor was that all. Before he left the schooner, he set her on fire, and + fixed up all the powder and dynamite so that it would go off at one time. + There were hundreds of us on board, trying to put out the fire, heaving up + water from overside, when the schooner blew up. So that all we had fought + for was lost to us, besides many more of us being killed. Sometimes, even + now, in my old age, I have bad dreams in which I hear that mate yell, Yah! + Yah! Yah!' In a voice of thunder he yells, Yah! Yah! Yah!' But all those + in the fishing camps were killed. + </p> + <p> + “The mate went out of the passage in his little boat, and that was the end + of him we made sure, for how could so small a boat, with four men in it, + live on the ocean? A month went by, and then, one morning, between two + rain squalls, a schooner sailed in through our passage and dropped anchor + before the village. The king and the headmen made big talk, and it was + agreed that we would take the schooner in two or three days. In the + meantime, as it was our custom always to appear friendly, we went off to + her in canoes, bringing strings of cocoanuts, fowls, and pigs, to trade. + But when we were alongside, many canoes of us, the men on board began to + shoot us with rifles, and as we paddled away I saw the mate who had gone + to sea in the little boat spring upon the rail and dance and yell, Yah! + Yah! Yah!' + </p> + <p> + “That afternoon they landed from the schooner in three small boats filled + with white men. They went right through the village, shooting every man + they saw. Also they shot the fowls and pigs. We who were not killed got + away in canoes and paddled out into the lagoon. Looking back, we could see + all the houses on fire. Late in the afternoon we saw many canoes coming + from Nihi, which is the village near the Nihi Passage in the northeast. + They were all that were left, and like us their village had been burned by + a second schooner that had come through Nihi Passage. + </p> + <p> + “We stood on in the darkness to the westward for Pauloo, but in the middle + of the night we heard women wailing and then we ran into a big fleet of + canoes. They were all that were left of Pauloo, which likewise was in + ashes, for a third schooner had come in through the Pauloo Passage. You + see, that mate, with his black boys, had not been drowned. He had made the + Solomon Islands, and there told his brothers of what we had done in + Oolong. And all his brothers had said they would come and punish us, and + there they were in the three schooners, and our three villages were wiped + out. + </p> + <p> + “And what was there for us to do? In the morning the two schooners from + windward sailed down upon us in the middle of the lagoon. The trade wind + was blowing fresh, and by scores of canoes they ran us down. And the + rifles never ceased talking. We scattered like flying fish before the + bonita, and there were so many of us that we escaped by thousands, this + way and that, to the islands on the rim of the atoll. + </p> + <p> + “And thereafter the schooners hunted us up and down the lagoon. In the + nighttime we slipped past them. But the next day, or in two days or three + days, the schooners would be coming back, hunting us toward the other end + of the lagoon. And so it went. We no longer counted nor remembered our + dead. True, we were many and they were few. But what could we do? I was in + one of the twenty canoes filled with men who were not afraid to die. We + attacked the smallest schooner. They shot us down in heaps. They threw + dynamite into the canoes, and when the dynamite gave out, they threw hot + water down upon us. And the rifles never ceased talking. And those whose + canoes were smashed were shot as they swam away. And the mate danced up + and down upon the cabin top and yelled, 'Yah! Yah! Yah!'” + </p> + <p> + “Every house on every smallest island was burned. Not a pig nor a fowl was + left alive. Our wells were defiled with the bodies of the slain, or else + heaped high with coral rock. We were twenty-five thousand on Oolong before + the three schooners came. Today we are five thousand. After the schooners + left, we were but three thousand, as you shall see. + </p> + <p> + “At last the three schooners grew tired of chasing us back and forth. So + they went, the three of them, to Nihi, in the northeast. And then they + drove us steadily to the west. Their nine boats were in the water as well. + They beat up every island as they moved along. They drove us, drove us, + drove us day by day. And every night the three schooners and the nine + boats made a chain of watchfulness that stretched across the lagoon from + rim to rim, so that we could not escape back. + </p> + <p> + “They could not drive us forever that way, for the lagoon was only so + large, and at last all of us that yet lived were driven upon the last sand + bank to the west. Beyond lay the open sea. There were ten thousand of us, + and we covered the sand bank from the lagoon edge to the pounding surf on + the other side. No one could lie down. There was no room. We stood hip to + hip and shoulder to shoulder. Two days they kept us there, and the mate + would climb up in the rigging to mock us and yell, Yah! Yah! Yah!' till we + were well sorry that we had ever harmed him or his schooner a month + before. We had no food, and we stood on our feet two days and nights. The + little babies died, and the old and weak died, and the wounded died. And + worst of all, we had no water to quench our thirst, and for two days the + sun beat down on us, and there was no shade. Many men and women waded out + into the ocean and were drowned, the surf casting their bodies back on the + beach. And there came a pest of flies. Some men swam to the sides of the + schooners, but they were shot to the last one. And we that lived were very + sorry that in our pride we tried to take the schooner with the three masts + that came to fish for beche-de-mer. + </p> + <p> + “On the morning of the third day came the skippers of the three schooners + and that mate in a small boat. They carried rifles, all of them, and + revolvers, and they made talk. It was only that they were weary of killing + us that they had stopped, they told us. And we told them that we were + sorry, that never again would we harm a white man, and in token of our + submission we poured sand upon our heads. And all the women and children + set up a great wailing for water, so that for some time no man could make + himself heard. Then we were told our punishment. We must fill the three + schooners with copra and beche-de-mer. And we agreed, for we wanted water, + and our hearts were broken, and we knew that we were children at fighting + when we fought with white men who fight like hell. And when all the talk + was finished, the mate stood up and mocked us, and yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' + After that we paddled away in our canoes and sought water. + </p> + <p> + “And for weeks we toiled at catching beche-de-mer and curing it, in + gathering the cocoanuts and turning them into copra. By day and night the + smoke rose in clouds from all the beaches of all the islands of Oolong as + we paid the penalty of our wrongdoing. For in those days of death it was + burned clearly on all our brains that it was very wrong to harm a white + man. + </p> + <p> + “By and by, the schooners full of copra and beche-de-mer and our trees + empty of cocoanuts, the three skippers and that mate called us all + together for a big talk. And they said they were very glad that we had + learned our lesson, and we said for the ten-thousandth time that we were + sorry and that we would not do it again. Also, we poured sand upon our + heads. Then the skippers said that it was all very well, but just to show + us that they did not forget us, they would send a devil-devil that we + would never forget and that we would always remember any time we might + feel like harming a white man. After that the mate mocked us one more time + and yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' Then six of our men, whom we thought long + dead, were put ashore from one of the schooners, and the schooners hoisted + their sails and ran out through the passage for the Solomons. + </p> + <p> + “The six men who were put ashore were the first to catch the devil-devil + the skippers sent back after us.” + </p> + <p> + “A great sickness came,” I interrupted, for I recognized the trick. The + schooner had had measles on board, and the six prisoners had been + deliberately exposed to it. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, a great sickness,” Oti went on. “It was a powerful devil-devil. The + oldest man had never heard of the like. Those of our priests that yet + lived we killed because they could not overcome the devil-devil. The + sickness spread. I have said that there were ten thousand of us that stood + hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder on the sandbank. When the sickness + left us, there were three thousand yet alive. Also, having made all our + cocoanuts into copra, there was a famine. + </p> + <p> + “That fella trader,” Oti concluded, “he like 'm that much dirt. He like 'm + clam he die KAI-KAI (meat) he stop, stink 'm any amount. He like 'm one + fella dog, one sick fella dog plenty fleas stop along him. We no fright + along that fella trader. We fright because he white man. We savve plenty + too much no good kill white man. That one fella sick dog trader he plenty + brother stop along him, white men like 'm you fight like hell. We no + fright that damn trader. Some time he made kanaka plenty cross along him + and kanaka want 'm kill m, kanaka he think devil-devil and kanaka he hear + that fella mate sing out, Yah! Yah! Yah!' and kanaka no kill 'm.” + </p> + <p> + Oti baited his hook with a piece of squid, which he tore with his teeth + from the live and squirming monster, and hook and bait sank in white + flames to the bottom. + </p> + <p> + “Shark walk about he finish,” he said. “I think we catch 'm plenty fella + fish.” + </p> + <p> + His line jerked savagely. He pulled it in rapidly, hand under hand, and + landed a big gasping rock cod in the bottom of the canoe. + </p> + <p> + “Sun he come up, I make 'm that dam fella trader one present big fella + fish,” said Oti. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE HEATHEN + </h2> + <p> + I met him first in a hurricane; and though we had gone through the + hurricane on the same schooner, it was not until the schooner had gone to + pieces under us that I first laid eyes on him. Without doubt I had seen + him with the rest of the kanaka crew on board, but I had not consciously + been aware of his existence, for the Petite Jeanne was rather overcrowded. + In addition to her eight or ten kanaka seamen, her white captain, mate, + and supercargo, and her six cabin passengers, she sailed from Rangiroa + with something like eighty-five deck passengers—Paumotans and + Tahitians, men, women, and children each with a trade box, to say nothing + of sleeping mats, blankets, and clothes bundles. + </p> + <p> + The pearling season in the Paumotus was over, and all hands were returning + to Tahiti. The six of us cabin passengers were pearl buyers. Two were + Americans, one was Ah Choon (the whitest Chinese I have ever known), one + was a German, one was a Polish Jew, and I completed the half dozen. + </p> + <p> + It had been a prosperous season. Not one of us had cause for complaint, + nor one of the eighty-five deck passengers either. All had done well, and + all were looking forward to a rest-off and a good time in Papeete. + </p> + <p> + Of course, the Petite Jeanne was overloaded. She was only seventy tons, + and she had no right to carry a tithe of the mob she had on board. Beneath + her hatches she was crammed and jammed with pearl shell and copra. Even + the trade room was packed full with shell. It was a miracle that the + sailors could work her. There was no moving about the decks. They simply + climbed back and forth along the rails. + </p> + <p> + In the night time they walked upon the sleepers, who carpeted the deck, + I'll swear, two deep. Oh! And there were pigs and chickens on deck, and + sacks of yams, while every conceivable place was festooned with strings of + drinking cocoanuts and bunches of bananas. On both sides, between the fore + and main shrouds, guys had been stretched, just low enough for the + foreboom to swing clear; and from each of these guys at least fifty + bunches of bananas were suspended. + </p> + <p> + It promised to be a messy passage, even if we did make it in the two or + three days that would have been required if the southeast trades had been + blowing fresh. But they weren't blowing fresh. After the first five hours + the trade died away in a dozen or so gasping fans. The calm continued all + that night and the next day—one of those glaring, glassy, calms, + when the very thought of opening one's eyes to look at it is sufficient to + cause a headache. + </p> + <p> + The second day a man died—an Easter Islander, one of the best divers + that season in the lagoon. Smallpox—that is what it was; though how + smallpox could come on board, when there had been no known cases ashore + when we left Rangiroa, is beyond me. There it was, though—smallpox, + a man dead, and three others down on their backs. + </p> + <p> + There was nothing to be done. We could not segregate the sick, nor could + we care for them. We were packed like sardines. There was nothing to do + but rot and die—that is, there was nothing to do after the night + that followed the first death. On that night, the mate, the supercargo, + the Polish Jew, and four native divers sneaked away in the large whale + boat. They were never heard of again. In the morning the captain promptly + scuttled the remaining boats, and there we were. + </p> + <p> + That day there were two deaths; the following day three; then it jumped to + eight. It was curious to see how we took it. The natives, for instance, + fell into a condition of dumb, stolid fear. The captain—Oudouse, his + name was, a Frenchman—became very nervous and voluble. He actually + got the twitches. He was a large fleshy man, weighing at least two hundred + pounds, and he quickly became a faithful representation of a quivering + jelly-mountain of fat. + </p> + <p> + The German, the two Americans, and myself bought up all the Scotch + whiskey, and proceeded to stay drunk. The theory was beautiful—namely, + if we kept ourselves soaked in alcohol, every smallpox germ that came into + contact with us would immediately be scorched to a cinder. And the theory + worked, though I must confess that neither Captain Oudouse nor Ah Choon + were attacked by the disease either. The Frenchman did not drink at all, + while Ah Choon restricted himself to one drink daily. + </p> + <p> + It was a pretty time. The sun, going into northern declination, was + straight overhead. There was no wind, except for frequent squalls, which + blew fiercely for from five minutes to half an hour, and wound up by + deluging us with rain. After each squall, the awful sun would come out, + drawing clouds of steam from the soaked decks. + </p> + <p> + The steam was not nice. It was the vapor of death, freighted with millions + and millions of germs. We always took another drink when we saw it going + up from the dead and dying, and usually we took two or three more drinks, + mixing them exceptionally stiff. Also, we made it a rule to take an + additional several each time they hove the dead over to the sharks that + swarmed about us. + </p> + <p> + We had a week of it, and then the whiskey gave out. It is just as well, or + I shouldn't be alive now. It took a sober man to pull through what + followed, as you will agree when I mention the little fact that only two + men did pull through. The other man was the heathen—at least, that + was what I heard Captain Oudouse call him at the moment I first became + aware of the heathen's existence. But to come back. + </p> + <p> + It was at the end of the week, with the whiskey gone, and the pearl buyers + sober, that I happened to glance at the barometer that hung in the cabin + companionway. Its normal register in the Paumotus was 29.90, and it was + quite customary to see it vacillate between 29.85 and 30.00, or even + 30.05; but to see it as I saw it, down to 29.62, was sufficient to sober + the most drunken pearl buyer that ever incinerated smallpox microbes in + Scotch whiskey. + </p> + <p> + I called Captain Oudouse's attention to it, only to be informed that he + had watched it going down for several hours. There was little to do, but + that little he did very well, considering the circumstances. He took off + the light sails, shortened right down to storm canvas, spread life lines, + and waited for the wind. His mistake lay in what he did after the wind + came. He hove to on the port tack, which was the right thing to do south + of the Equator, if—and there was the rub—IF one were NOT in + the direct path of the hurricane. + </p> + <p> + We were in the direct path. I could see that by the steady increase of the + wind and the equally steady fall of the barometer. I wanted him to turn + and run with the wind on the port quarter until the barometer ceased + falling, and then to heave to. We argued till he was reduced to hysteria, + but budge he would not. The worst of it was that I could not get the rest + of the pearl buyers to back me up. Who was I, anyway, to know more about + the sea and its ways than a properly qualified captain? was what was in + their minds, I knew. + </p> + <p> + Of course, the sea rose with the wind frightfully; and I shall never + forget the first three seas the Petite Jeanne shipped. She had fallen off, + as vessels do at times when hove to, and the first sea made a clean + breach. The life lines were only for the strong and well, and little good + were they even for them when the women and children, the bananas and + cocoanuts, the pigs and trade boxes, the sick and the dying, were swept + along in a solid, screeching, groaning mass. + </p> + <p> + The second sea filled the Petite Jeanne's decks flush with the rails; and, + as her stern sank down and her bow tossed skyward, all the miserable + dunnage of life and luggage poured aft. It was a human torrent. They came + head first, feet first, sidewise, rolling over and over, twisting, + squirming, writhing, and crumpling up. Now and again one caught a grip on + a stanchion or a rope; but the weight of the bodies behind tore such grips + loose. + </p> + <p> + One man I noticed fetch up, head on and square on, with the starboard + bitt. His head cracked like an egg. I saw what was coming, sprang on top + of the cabin, and from there into the mainsail itself. Ah Choon and one of + the Americans tried to follow me, but I was one jump ahead of them. The + American was swept away and over the stern like a piece of chaff. Ah Choon + caught a spoke of the wheel, and swung in behind it. But a strapping + Raratonga vahine (woman)—she must have weighed two hundred and fifty—brought + up against him, and got an arm around his neck. He clutched the kanaka + steersman with his other hand; and just at that moment the schooner flung + down to starboard. + </p> + <p> + The rush of bodies and sea that was coming along the port runway between + the cabin and the rail turned abruptly and poured to starboard. Away they + went—vahine, Ah Choon, and steersman; and I swear I saw Ah Choon + grin at me with philosophic resignation as he cleared the rail and went + under. + </p> + <p> + The third sea—the biggest of the three—did not do so much + damage. By the time it arrived nearly everybody was in the rigging. On + deck perhaps a dozen gasping, half-drowned, and half-stunned wretches were + rolling about or attempting to crawl into safety. They went by the board, + as did the wreckage of the two remaining boats. The other pearl buyers and + myself, between seas, managed to get about fifteen women and children into + the cabin, and battened down. Little good it did the poor creatures in the + end. + </p> + <p> + Wind? Out of all my experience I could not have believed it possible for + the wind to blow as it did. There is no describing it. How can one + describe a nightmare? It was the same way with that wind. It tore the + clothes off our bodies. I say TORE THEM OFF, and I mean it. I am not + asking you to believe it. I am merely telling something that I saw and + felt. There are times when I do not believe it myself. I went through it, + and that is enough. One could not face that wind and live. It was a + monstrous thing, and the most monstrous thing about it was that it + increased and continued to increase. + </p> + <p> + Imagine countless millions and billions of tons of sand. Imagine this sand + tearing along at ninety, a hundred, a hundred and twenty, or any other + number of miles per hour. Imagine, further, this sand to be invisible, + impalpable, yet to retain all the weight and density of sand. Do all this, + and you may get a vague inkling of what that wind was like. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps sand is not the right comparison. Consider it mud, invisible, + impalpable, but heavy as mud. Nay, it goes beyond that. Consider every + molecule of air to be a mudbank in itself. Then try to imagine the + multitudinous impact of mudbanks. No; it is beyond me. Language may be + adequate to express the ordinary conditions of life, but it cannot + possibly express any of the conditions of so enormous a blast of wind. It + would have been better had I stuck by my original intention of not + attempting a description. + </p> + <p> + I will say this much: The sea, which had risen at first, was beaten down + by that wind. More: it seemed as if the whole ocean had been sucked up in + the maw of the hurricane, and hurled on through that portion of space + which previously had been occupied by the air. + </p> + <p> + Of course, our canvas had gone long before. But Captain Oudouse had on the + Petite Jeanne something I had never before seen on a South Sea schooner—a + sea anchor. It was a conical canvas bag, the mouth of which was kept open + by a huge loop of iron. The sea anchor was bridled something like a kite, + so that it bit into the water as a kite bites into the air, but with a + difference. The sea anchor remained just under the surface of the ocean in + a perpendicular position. A long line, in turn, connected it with the + schooner. As a result, the Petite Jeanne rode bow on to the wind and to + what sea there was. + </p> + <p> + The situation really would have been favorable had we not been in the path + of the storm. True, the wind itself tore our canvas out of the gaskets, + jerked out our topmasts, and made a raffle of our running gear, but still + we would have come through nicely had we not been square in front of the + advancing storm center. That was what fixed us. I was in a state of + stunned, numbed, paralyzed collapse from enduring the impact of the wind, + and I think I was just about ready to give up and die when the center + smote us. The blow we received was an absolute lull. There was not a + breath of air. The effect on one was sickening. + </p> + <p> + Remember that for hours we had been at terrific muscular tension, + withstanding the awful pressure of that wind. And then, suddenly, the + pressure was removed. I know that I felt as though I was about to expand, + to fly apart in all directions. It seemed as if every atom composing my + body was repelling every other atom and was on the verge of rushing off + irresistibly into space. But that lasted only for a moment. Destruction + was upon us. + </p> + <p> + In the absence of the wind and pressure the sea rose. It jumped, it + leaped, it soared straight toward the clouds. Remember, from every point + of the compass that inconceivable wind was blowing in toward the center of + calm. The result was that the seas sprang up from every point of the + compass. There was no wind to check them. They popped up like corks + released from the bottom of a pail of water. There was no system to them, + no stability. They were hollow, maniacal seas. They were eighty feet high + at the least. They were not seas at all. They resembled no sea a man had + ever seen. + </p> + <p> + They were splashes, monstrous splashes—that is all. Splashes that + were eighty feet high. Eighty! They were more than eighty. They went over + our mastheads. They were spouts, explosions. They were drunken. They fell + anywhere, anyhow. They jostled one another; they collided. They rushed + together and collapsed upon one another, or fell apart like a thousand + waterfalls all at once. It was no ocean any man had ever dreamed of, that + hurricane center. It was confusion thrice confounded. It was anarchy. It + was a hell pit of sea water gone mad. + </p> + <p> + The Petite Jeanne? I don't know. The heathen told me afterwards that he + did not know. She was literally torn apart, ripped wide open, beaten into + a pulp, smashed into kindling wood, annihilated. When I came to I was in + the water, swimming automatically, though I was about two-thirds drowned. + How I got there I had no recollection. I remembered seeing the Petite + Jeanne fly to pieces at what must have been the instant that my own + consciousness was buffeted out of me. But there I was, with nothing to do + but make the best of it, and in that best there was little promise. The + wind was blowing again, the sea was much smaller and more regular, and I + knew that I had passed through the center. Fortunately, there were no + sharks about. The hurricane had dissipated the ravenous horde that had + surrounded the death ship and fed off the dead. + </p> + <p> + It was about midday when the Petite Jeanne went to pieces, and it must + have been two hours afterwards when I picked up with one of her hatch + covers. Thick rain was driving at the time; and it was the merest chance + that flung me and the hatch cover together. A short length of line was + trailing from the rope handle; and I knew that I was good for a day, at + least, if the sharks did not return. Three hours later, possibly a little + longer, sticking close to the cover, and with closed eyes, concentrating + my whole soul upon the task of breathing in enough air to keep me going + and at the same time of avoiding breathing in enough water to drown me, it + seemed to me that I heard voices. The rain had ceased, and wind and sea + were easing marvelously. Not twenty feet away from me, on another hatch + cover were Captain Oudouse and the heathen. They were fighting over the + possession of the cover—at least, the Frenchman was. “Paien noir!” I + heard him scream, and at the same time I saw him kick the kanaka. + </p> + <p> + Now, Captain Oudouse had lost all his clothes, except his shoes, and they + were heavy brogans. It was a cruel blow, for it caught the heathen on the + mouth and the point of the chin, half stunning him. I looked for him to + retaliate, but he contented himself with swimming about forlornly a safe + ten feet away. Whenever a fling of the sea threw him closer, the + Frenchman, hanging on with his hands, kicked out at him with both feet. + Also, at the moment of delivering each kick, he called the kanaka a black + heathen. + </p> + <p> + “For two centimes I'd come over there and drown you, you white beast!” I + yelled. + </p> + <p> + The only reason I did not go was that I felt too tired. The very thought + of the effort to swim over was nauseating. So I called to the kanaka to + come to me, and proceeded to share the hatch cover with him. Otoo, he told + me his name was (pronounced o-to-o ); also, he told me that he was a + native of Bora Bora, the most westerly of the Society Group. As I learned + afterward, he had got the hatch cover first, and, after some time, + encountering Captain Oudouse, had offered to share it with him, and had + been kicked off for his pains. + </p> + <p> + And that was how Otoo and I first came together. He was no fighter. He was + all sweetness and gentleness, a love creature, though he stood nearly six + feet tall and was muscled like a gladiator. He was no fighter, but he was + also no coward. He had the heart of a lion; and in the years that followed + I have seen him run risks that I would never dream of taking. What I mean + is that while he was no fighter, and while he always avoided precipitating + a row, he never ran away from trouble when it started. And it was “Ware + shoal!” when once Otoo went into action. I shall never forget what he did + to Bill King. It occurred in German Samoa. Bill King was hailed the + champion heavyweight of the American Navy. He was a big brute of a man, a + veritable gorilla, one of those hard-hitting, rough-housing chaps, and + clever with his fists as well. He picked the quarrel, and he kicked Otoo + twice and struck him once before Otoo felt it to be necessary to fight. I + don't think it lasted four minutes, at the end of which time Bill King was + the unhappy possessor of four broken ribs, a broken forearm, and a + dislocated shoulder blade. Otoo knew nothing of scientific boxing. He was + merely a manhandler; and Bill King was something like three months in + recovering from the bit of manhandling he received that afternoon on Apia + beach. + </p> + <p> + But I am running ahead of my yarn. We shared the hatch cover between us. + We took turn and turn about, one lying flat on the cover and resting, + while the other, submerged to the neck, merely held on with his hands. For + two days and nights, spell and spell, on the cover and in the water, we + drifted over the ocean. Towards the last I was delirious most of the time; + and there were times, too, when I heard Otoo babbling and raving in his + native tongue. Our continuous immersion prevented us from dying of thirst, + though the sea water and the sunshine gave us the prettiest imaginable + combination of salt pickle and sunburn. + </p> + <p> + In the end, Otoo saved my life; for I came to lying on the beach twenty + feet from the water, sheltered from the sun by a couple of cocoanut + leaves. No one but Otoo could have dragged me there and stuck up the + leaves for shade. He was lying beside me. I went off again; and the next + time I came round, it was cool and starry night, and Otoo was pressing a + drinking cocoanut to my lips. + </p> + <p> + We were the sole survivors of the Petite Jeanne. Captain Oudouse must have + succumbed to exhaustion, for several days later his hatch cover drifted + ashore without him. Otoo and I lived with the natives of the atoll for a + week, when we were rescued by the French cruiser and taken to Tahiti. In + the meantime, however, we had performed the ceremony of exchanging names. + In the South Seas such a ceremony binds two men closer together than blood + brothership. The initiative had been mine; and Otoo was rapturously + delighted when I suggested it. + </p> + <p> + “It is well,” he said, in Tahitian. “For we have been mates together for + two days on the lips of Death.” + </p> + <p> + “But death stuttered,” I smiled. + </p> + <p> + “It was a brave deed you did, master,” he replied, “and Death was not vile + enough to speak.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you 'master' me?” I demanded, with a show of hurt feelings. “We + have exchanged names. To you I am Otoo. To me you are Charley. And between + you and me, forever and forever, you shall be Charley, and I shall be + Otoo. It is the way of the custom. And when we die, if it does happen that + we live again somewhere beyond the stars and the sky, still shall you be + Charley to me, and I Otoo to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, master,” he answered, his eyes luminous and soft with joy. + </p> + <p> + “There you go!” I cried indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “What does it matter what my lips utter?” he argued. “They are only my + lips. But I shall think Otoo always. Whenever I think of myself, I shall + think of you. Whenever men call me by name, I shall think of you. And + beyond the sky and beyond the stars, always and forever, you shall be Otoo + to me. Is it well, master?” + </p> + <p> + I hid my smile, and answered that it was well. + </p> + <p> + We parted at Papeete. I remained ashore to recuperate; and he went on in a + cutter to his own island, Bora Bora. Six weeks later he was back. I was + surprised, for he had told me of his wife, and said that he was returning + to her, and would give over sailing on far voyages. + </p> + <p> + “Where do you go, master?” he asked, after our first greetings. + </p> + <p> + I shrugged my shoulders. It was a hard question. + </p> + <p> + “All the world,” was my answer—“all the world, all the sea, and all + the islands that are in the sea.” + </p> + <p> + “I will go with you,” he said simply. “My wife is dead.” + </p> + <p> + I never had a brother; but from what I have seen of other men's brothers, + I doubt if any man ever had a brother that was to him what Otoo was to me. + He was brother and father and mother as well. And this I know: I lived a + straighter and better man because of Otoo. I cared little for other men, + but I had to live straight in Otoo's eyes. Because of him I dared not + tarnish myself. He made me his ideal, compounding me, I fear, chiefly out + of his own love and worship and there were times when I stood close to the + steep pitch of hell, and would have taken the plunge had not the thought + of Otoo restrained me. His pride in me entered into me, until it became + one of the major rules in my personal code to do nothing that would + diminish that pride of his. + </p> + <p> + Naturally, I did not learn right away what his feelings were toward me. He + never criticized, never censured; and slowly the exalted place I held in + his eyes dawned upon me, and slowly I grew to comprehend the hurt I could + inflict upon him by being anything less than my best. + </p> + <p> + For seventeen years we were together; for seventeen years he was at my + shoulder, watching while I slept, nursing me through fever and wounds—ay, + and receiving wounds in fighting for me. He signed on the same ships with + me; and together we ranged the Pacific from Hawaii to Sydney Head, and + from Torres Straits to the Galapagos. We blackbirded from the New Hebrides + and the Line Islands over to the westward clear through the Louisades, New + Britain, New Ireland, and New Hanover. We were wrecked three times—in + the Gilberts, in the Santa Cruz group, and in the Fijis. And we traded and + salved wherever a dollar promised in the way of pearl and pearl shell, + copra, beche-de-mer, hawkbill turtle shell, and stranded wrecks. + </p> + <p> + It began in Papeete, immediately after his announcement that he was going + with me over all the sea, and the islands in the midst thereof. There was + a club in those days in Papeete, where the pearlers, traders, captains, + and riffraff of South Sea adventurers forgathered. The play ran high, and + the drink ran high; and I am very much afraid that I kept later hours than + were becoming or proper. No matter what the hour was when I left the club, + there was Otoo waiting to see me safely home. + </p> + <p> + At first I smiled; next I chided him. Then I told him flatly that I stood + in need of no wet-nursing. After that I did not see him when I came out of + the club. Quite by accident, a week or so later, I discovered that he + still saw me home, lurking across the street among the shadows of the + mango trees. What could I do? I know what I did do. + </p> + <p> + Insensibly I began to keep better hours. On wet and stormy nights, in the + thick of the folly and the fun, the thought would persist in coming to me + of Otoo keeping his dreary vigil under the dripping mangoes. Truly, he + made a better man of me. Yet he was not strait-laced. And he knew nothing + of common Christian morality. All the people on Bora Bora were Christians; + but he was a heathen, the only unbeliever on the island, a gross + materialist, who believed that when he died he was dead. He believed + merely in fair play and square dealing. Petty meanness, in his code, was + almost as serious as wanton homicide; and I do believe that he respected a + murderer more than a man given to small practices. + </p> + <p> + Concerning me, personally, he objected to my doing anything that was + hurtful to me. Gambling was all right. He was an ardent gambler himself. + But late hours, he explained, were bad for one's health. He had seen men + who did not take care of themselves die of fever. He was no teetotaler, + and welcomed a stiff nip any time when it was wet work in the boats. On + the other hand, he believed in liquor in moderation. He had seen many men + killed or disgraced by square-face or Scotch. + </p> + <p> + Otoo had my welfare always at heart. He thought ahead for me, weighed my + plans, and took a greater interest in them than I did myself. At first, + when I was unaware of this interest of his in my affairs, he had to divine + my intentions, as, for instance, at Papeete, when I contemplated going + partners with a knavish fellow-countryman on a guano venture. I did not + know he was a knave. Nor did any white man in Papeete. Neither did Otoo + know, but he saw how thick we were getting, and found out for me, and + without my asking him. Native sailors from the ends of the seas knock + about on the beach in Tahiti; and Otoo, suspicious merely, went among them + till he had gathered sufficient data to justify his suspicions. Oh, it was + a nice history, that of Randolph Waters. I couldn't believe it when Otoo + first narrated it; but when I sheeted it home to Waters he gave in without + a murmur, and got away on the first steamer to Aukland. + </p> + <p> + At first, I am free to confess, I couldn't help resenting Otoo's poking + his nose into my business. But I knew that he was wholly unselfish; and + soon I had to acknowledge his wisdom and discretion. He had his eyes open + always to my main chance, and he was both keen-sighted and far-sighted. In + time he became my counselor, until he knew more of my business than I did + myself. He really had my interest at heart more than I did. Mine was the + magnificent carelessness of youth, for I preferred romance to dollars, and + adventure to a comfortable billet with all night in. So it was well that I + had some one to look out for me. I know that if it had not been for Otoo, + I should not be here today. + </p> + <p> + Of numerous instances, let me give one. I had had some experience in + blackbirding before I went pearling in the Paumotus. Otoo and I were on + the beach in Samoa—we really were on the beach and hard aground—when + my chance came to go as recruiter on a blackbird brig. Otoo signed on + before the mast; and for the next half-dozen years, in as many ships, we + knocked about the wildest portions of Melanesia. Otoo saw to it that he + always pulled stroke-oar in my boat. Our custom in recruiting labor was to + land the recruiter on the beach. The covering boat always lay on its oars + several hundred feet off shore, while the recruiter's boat, also lying on + its oars, kept afloat on the edge of the beach. When I landed with my + trade goods, leaving my steering sweep apeak, Otoo left his stroke + position and came into the stern sheets, where a Winchester lay ready to + hand under a flap of canvas. The boat's crew was also armed, the Sniders + concealed under canvas flaps that ran the length of the gunwales. + </p> + <p> + While I was busy arguing and persuading the woolly-headed cannibals to + come and labor on the Queensland plantations Otoo kept watch. And often + and often his low voice warned me of suspicious actions and impending + treachery. Sometimes it was the quick shot from his rifle, knocking a + nigger over, that was the first warning I received. And in my rush to the + boat his hand was always there to jerk me flying aboard. Once, I remember, + on SANTA ANNA, the boat grounded just as the trouble began. The covering + boat was dashing to our assistance, but the several score of savages would + have wiped us out before it arrived. Otoo took a flying leap ashore, dug + both hands into the trade goods, and scattered tobacco, beads, tomahawks, + knives, and calicoes in all directions. + </p> + <p> + This was too much for the woolly-heads. While they scrambled for the + treasures, the boat was shoved clear, and we were aboard and forty feet + away. And I got thirty recruits off that very beach in the next four + hours. + </p> + <p> + The particular instance I have in mind was on Malaita, the most savage + island in the easterly Solomons. The natives had been remarkably friendly; + and how were we to know that the whole village had been taking up a + collection for over two years with which to buy a white man's head? The + beggars are all head-hunters, and they especially esteem a white man's + head. The fellow who captured the head would receive the whole collection. + As I say, they appeared very friendly; and on this day I was fully a + hundred yards down the beach from the boat. Otoo had cautioned me; and, as + usual when I did not heed him, I came to grief. + </p> + <p> + The first I knew, a cloud of spears sailed out of the mangrove swamp at + me. At least a dozen were sticking into me. I started to run, but tripped + over one that was fast in my calf, and went down. The woolly-heads made a + run for me, each with a long-handled, fantail tomahawk with which to hack + off my head. They were so eager for the prize that they got in one + another's way. In the confusion, I avoided several hacks by throwing + myself right and left on the sand. + </p> + <p> + Then Otoo arrived—Otoo the manhandler. In some way he had got hold + of a heavy war club, and at close quarters it was a far more efficient + weapon than a rifle. He was right in the thick of them, so that they could + not spear him, while their tomahawks seemed worse than useless. He was + fighting for me, and he was in a true Berserker rage. The way he handled + that club was amazing. + </p> + <p> + Their skulls squashed like overripe oranges. It was not until he had + driven them back, picked me up in his arms, and started to run, that he + received his first wounds. He arrived in the boat with four spear thrusts, + got his Winchester, and with it got a man for every shot. Then we pulled + aboard the schooner, and doctored up. + </p> + <p> + Seventeen years we were together. He made me. I should today be a + supercargo, a recruiter, or a memory, if it had not been for him. + </p> + <p> + “You spend your money, and you go out and get more,” he said one day. “It + is easy to get money now. But when you get old, your money will be spent, + and you will not be able to go out and get more. I know, master. I have + studied the way of white men. On the beaches are many old men who were + young once, and who could get money just like you. Now they are old, and + they have nothing, and they wait about for the young men like you to come + ashore and buy drinks for them. + </p> + <p> + “The black boy is a slave on the plantations. He gets twenty dollars a + year. He works hard. The overseer does not work hard. He rides a horse and + watches the black boy work. He gets twelve hundred dollars a year. I am a + sailor on the schooner. I get fifteen dollars a month. That is because I + am a good sailor. I work hard. The captain has a double awning, and drinks + beer out of long bottles. I have never seen him haul a rope or pull an + oar. He gets one hundred and fifty dollars a month. I am a sailor. He is a + navigator. Master, I think it would be very good for you to know + navigation.” + </p> + <p> + Otoo spurred me on to it. He sailed with me as second mate on my first + schooner, and he was far prouder of my command than I was myself. Later on + it was: + </p> + <p> + “The captain is well paid, master; but the ship is in his keeping, and he + is never free from the burden. It is the owner who is better paid—the + owner who sits ashore with many servants and turns his money over.” + </p> + <p> + “True, but a schooner costs five thousand dollars—an old schooner at + that,” I objected. “I should be an old man before I saved five thousand + dollars.” + </p> + <p> + “There be short ways for white men to make money,” he went on, pointing + ashore at the cocoanut-fringed beach. + </p> + <p> + We were in the Solomons at the time, picking up a cargo of ivory nuts + along the east coast of Guadalcanar. + </p> + <p> + “Between this river mouth and the next it is two miles,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “The flat land runs far back. It is worth nothing now. Next year—who + knows?—or the year after, men will pay much money for that land. The + anchorage is good. Big steamers can lie close up. You can buy the land + four miles deep from the old chief for ten thousand sticks of tobacco, ten + bottles of square-face, and a Snider, which will cost you, maybe, one + hundred dollars. Then you place the deed with the commissioner; and the + next year, or the year after, you sell and become the owner of a ship.” + </p> + <p> + I followed his lead, and his words came true, though in three years, + instead of two. Next came the grasslands deal on Guadalcanar—twenty + thousand acres, on a governmental nine hundred and ninety-nine years' + lease at a nominal sum. I owned the lease for precisely ninety days, when + I sold it to a company for half a fortune. Always it was Otoo who looked + ahead and saw the opportunity. He was responsible for the salving of the + Doncaster—bought in at auction for a hundred pounds, and clearing + three thousand after every expense was paid. He led me into the Savaii + plantation and the cocoa venture on Upolu. + </p> + <p> + We did not go seafaring so much as in the old days. I was too well off. I + married, and my standard of living rose; but Otoo remained the same + old-time Otoo, moving about the house or trailing through the office, his + wooden pipe in his mouth, a shilling undershirt on his back, and a + four-shilling lava-lava about his loins. I could not get him to spend + money. There was no way of repaying him except with love, and God knows he + got that in full measure from all of us. The children worshipped him; and + if he had been spoilable, my wife would surely have been his undoing. + </p> + <p> + The children! He really was the one who showed them the way of their feet + in the world practical. He began by teaching them to walk. He sat up with + them when they were sick. One by one, when they were scarcely toddlers, he + took them down to the lagoon, and made them into amphibians. He taught + them more than I ever knew of the habits of fish and the ways of catching + them. In the bush it was the same thing. At seven, Tom knew more woodcraft + than I ever dreamed existed. At six, Mary went over the Sliding Rock + without a quiver, and I have seen strong men balk at that feat. And when + Frank had just turned six he could bring up shillings from the bottom in + three fathoms. + </p> + <p> + “My people in Bora Bora do not like heathen—they are all Christians; + and I do not like Bora Bora Christians,” he said one day, when I, with the + idea of getting him to spend some of the money that was rightfully his, + had been trying to persuade him to make a visit to his own island in one + of our schooners—a special voyage which I had hoped to make a record + breaker in the matter of prodigal expense. + </p> + <p> + I say one of OUR schooners, though legally at the time they belonged to + me. I struggled long with him to enter into partnership. + </p> + <p> + “We have been partners from the day the Petite Jeanne went down,” he said + at last. “But if your heart so wishes, then shall we become partners by + the law. I have no work to do, yet are my expenses large. I drink and eat + and smoke in plenty—it costs much, I know. I do not pay for the + playing of billiards, for I play on your table; but still the money goes. + Fishing on the reef is only a rich man's pleasure. It is shocking, the + cost of hooks and cotton line. Yes; it is necessary that we be partners by + the law. I need the money. I shall get it from the head clerk in the + office.” + </p> + <p> + So the papers were made out and recorded. A year later I was compelled to + complain. + </p> + <p> + “Charley,” said I, “you are a wicked old fraud, a miserly skinflint, a + miserable land crab. Behold, your share for the year in all our + partnership has been thousands of dollars. The head clerk has given me + this paper. It says that in the year you have drawn just eighty-seven + dollars and twenty cents.” + </p> + <p> + “Is there any owing me?” he asked anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you thousands and thousands,” I answered. + </p> + <p> + His face brightened, as with an immense relief. + </p> + <p> + “It is well,” he said. “See that the head clerk keeps good account of it. + When I want it, I shall want it, and there must not be a cent missing. + </p> + <p> + “If there is,” he added fiercely, after a pause, “it must come out of the + clerk's wages.” + </p> + <p> + And all the time, as I afterwards learned, his will, drawn up by + Carruthers, and making me sole beneficiary, lay in the American consul's + safe. + </p> + <p> + But the end came, as the end must come to all human associations. + </p> + <p> + It occurred in the Solomons, where our wildest work had been done in the + wild young days, and where we were once more—principally on a + holiday, incidentally to look after our holdings on Florida Island and to + look over the pearling possibilities of the Mboli Pass. We were lying at + Savo, having run in to trade for curios. + </p> + <p> + Now, Savo is alive with sharks. The custom of the woolly-heads of burying + their dead in the sea did not tend to discourage the sharks from making + the adjacent waters a hangout. It was my luck to be coming aboard in a + tiny, overloaded, native canoe, when the thing capsized. There were four + woolly-heads and myself in it, or rather, hanging to it. The schooner was + a hundred yards away. + </p> + <p> + I was just hailing for a boat when one of the woolly-heads began to + scream. Holding on to the end of the canoe, both he and that portion of + the canoe were dragged under several times. Then he loosed his clutch and + disappeared. A shark had got him. + </p> + <p> + The three remaining niggers tried to climb out of the water upon the + bottom of the canoe. I yelled and cursed and struck at the nearest with my + fist, but it was no use. They were in a blind funk. The canoe could barely + have supported one of them. Under the three it upended and rolled + sidewise, throwing them back into the water. + </p> + <p> + I abandoned the canoe and started to swim toward the schooner, expecting + to be picked up by the boat before I got there. One of the niggers elected + to come with me, and we swam along silently, side by side, now and again + putting our faces into the water and peering about for sharks. The screams + of the man who stayed by the canoe informed us that he was taken. I was + peering into the water when I saw a big shark pass directly beneath me. He + was fully sixteen feet in length. I saw the whole thing. He got the + woolly-head by the middle, and away he went, the poor devil, head, + shoulders, and arms out of the water all the time, screeching in a + heart-rending way. He was carried along in this fashion for several + hundred feet, when he was dragged beneath the surface. + </p> + <p> + I swam doggedly on, hoping that that was the last unattached shark. But + there was another. Whether it was one that had attacked the natives + earlier, or whether it was one that had made a good meal elsewhere, I do + not know. At any rate, he was not in such haste as the others. I could not + swim so rapidly now, for a large part of my effort was devoted to keeping + track of him. I was watching him when he made his first attack. By good + luck I got both hands on his nose, and, though his momentum nearly shoved + me under, I managed to keep him off. He veered clear, and began circling + about again. A second time I escaped him by the same manoeuvre. The third + rush was a miss on both sides. He sheered at the moment my hands should + have landed on his nose, but his sandpaper hide (I had on a sleeveless + undershirt) scraped the skin off one arm from elbow to shoulder. + </p> + <p> + By this time I was played out, and gave up hope. The schooner was still + two hundred feet away. My face was in the water, and I was watching him + manoeuvre for another attempt, when I saw a brown body pass between us. It + was Otoo. + </p> + <p> + “Swim for the schooner, master!” he said. And he spoke gayly, as though + the affair was a mere lark. “I know sharks. The shark is my brother.” + </p> + <p> + I obeyed, swimming slowly on, while Otoo swam about me, keeping always + between me and the shark, foiling his rushes and encouraging me. + </p> + <p> + “The davit tackle carried away, and they are rigging the falls,” he + explained, a minute or so later, and then went under to head off another + attack. + </p> + <p> + By the time the schooner was thirty feet away I was about done for. I + could scarcely move. They were heaving lines at us from on board, but they + continually fell short. The shark, finding that it was receiving no hurt, + had become bolder. Several times it nearly got me, but each time Otoo was + there just the moment before it was too late. Of course, Otoo could have + saved himself any time. But he stuck by me. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, Charley! I'm finished!” I just managed to gasp. + </p> + <p> + I knew that the end had come, and that the next moment I should throw up + my hands and go down. + </p> + <p> + But Otoo laughed in my face, saying: + </p> + <p> + “I will show you a new trick. I will make that shark feel sick!” + </p> + <p> + He dropped in behind me, where the shark was preparing to come at me. + </p> + <p> + “A little more to the left!” he next called out. “There is a line there on + the water. To the left, master—to the left!” + </p> + <p> + I changed my course and struck out blindly. I was by that time barely + conscious. As my hand closed on the line I heard an exclamation from on + board. I turned and looked. There was no sign of Otoo. The next instant he + broke surface. Both hands were off at the wrist, the stumps spouting + blood. + </p> + <p> + “Otoo!” he called softly. And I could see in his gaze the love that + thrilled in his voice. + </p> + <p> + Then, and then only, at the very last of all our years, he called me by + that name. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, Otoo!” he called. + </p> + <p> + Then he was dragged under, and I was hauled aboard, where I fainted in the + captain's arms. + </p> + <p> + And so passed Otoo, who saved me and made me a man, and who saved me in + the end. We met in the maw of a hurricane, and parted in the maw of a + shark, with seventeen intervening years of comradeship, the like of which + I dare to assert has never befallen two men, the one brown and the other + white. If Jehovah be from His high place watching every sparrow fall, not + least in His kingdom shall be Otoo, the one heathen of Bora Bora. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE TERRIBLE SOLOMONS + </h2> + <p> + There is no gainsaying that the Solomons are a hard-bitten bunch of + islands. On the other hand, there are worse places in the world. But to + the new chum who has no constitutional understanding of men and life in + the rough, the Solomons may indeed prove terrible. + </p> + <p> + It is true that fever and dysentery are perpetually on the walk-about, + that loathsome skin diseases abound, that the air is saturated with a + poison that bites into every pore, cut, or abrasion and plants malignant + ulcers, and that many strong men who escape dying there return as wrecks + to their own countries. It is also true that the natives of the Solomons + are a wild lot, with a hearty appetite for human flesh and a fad for + collecting human heads. Their highest instinct of sportsmanship is to + catch a man with his back turned and to smite him a cunning blow with a + tomahawk that severs the spinal column at the base of the brain. It is + equally true that on some islands, such as Malaita, the profit and loss + account of social intercourse is calculated in homicides. Heads are a + medium of exchange, and white heads are extremely valuable. Very often a + dozen villages make a jack-pot, which they fatten moon by moon, against + the time when some brave warrior presents a white man's head, fresh and + gory, and claims the pot. + </p> + <p> + All the foregoing is quite true, and yet there are white men who have + lived in the Solomons a score of years and who feel homesick when they go + away from them. A man needs only to be careful—and lucky—to + live a long time in the Solomons; but he must also be of the right sort. + He must have the hallmark of the inevitable white man stamped upon his + soul. He must be inevitable. He must have a certain grand carelessness of + odds, a certain colossal self-satisfaction, and a racial egotism that + convinces him that one white is better than a thousand niggers every day + in the week, and that on Sunday he is able to clean out two thousand + niggers. For such are the things that have made the white man inevitable. + Oh, and one other thing—the white man who wishes to be inevitable, + must not merely despise the lesser breeds and think a lot of himself; he + must also fail to be too long on imagination. He must not understand too + well the instincts, customs, and mental processes of the blacks, the + yellows, and the browns; for it is not in such fashion that the white race + has tramped its royal road around the world. + </p> + <p> + Bertie Arkwright was not inevitable. He was too sensitive, too finely + strung, and he possessed too much imagination. The world was too much with + him. He projected himself too quiveringly into his environment. Therefore, + the last place in the world for him to come was the Solomons. He did not + come, expecting to stay. A five weeks' stop-over between steamers, he + decided, would satisfy the call of the primitive he felt thrumming the + strings of his being. At least, so he told the lady tourists on the + MAKEMBO, though in different terms; and they worshipped him as a hero, for + they were lady tourists and they would know only the safety of the + steamer's deck as she threaded her way through the Solomons. + </p> + <p> + There was another man on board, of whom the ladies took no notice. He was + a little shriveled wisp of a man, with a withered skin the color of + mahogany. His name on the passenger list does not matter, but his other + name, Captain Malu, was a name for niggers to conjure with, and to scare + naughty pickaninnies to righteousness from New Hanover to the New + Hebrides. He had farmed savages and savagery, and from fever and hardship, + the crack of Sniders and the lash of the overseers, had wrested five + millions of money in the form of bêche-de-mer, sandalwood, pearl-shell and + turtle-shell, ivory nuts and copra, grasslands, trading stations, and + plantations. Captain Malu's little finger, which was broken, had more + inevitableness in it than Bertie Arkwright's whole carcass. But then, the + lady tourists had nothing by which to judge save appearances, and Bertie + certainly was a fine-looking man. + </p> + <p> + Bertie talked with Captain Malu in the smoking room, confiding to him his + intention of seeing life red and bleeding in the Solomons. Captain Malu + agreed that the intention was ambitious and honorable. It was not until + several days later that he became interested in Bertie, when that young + adventurer insisted on showing him an automatic 44-caliber pistol. Bertie + explained the mechanism and demonstrated by slipping a loaded magazine up + the hollow butt. + </p> + <p> + “It is so simple,” he said. He shot the outer barrel back along the inner + one. “That loads it and cocks it, you see. And then all I have to do is + pull the trigger, eight times, as fast as I can quiver my finger. See that + safety clutch. That's what I like about it. It is safe. It is positively + fool-proof.” He slipped out the magazine. “You see how safe it is.” + </p> + <p> + As he held it in his hand, the muzzle came in line with Captain Malu's + stomach. Captain Malu's blue eyes looked at it unswervingly. + </p> + <p> + “Would you mind pointing it in some other direction?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “It's perfectly safe,” Bertie assured him. “I withdrew the magazine. It's + not loaded now, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “A gun is always loaded.” + </p> + <p> + “But this one isn't.” + </p> + <p> + “Turn it away just the same.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Malu's voice was flat and metallic and low, but his eyes never + left the muzzle until the line of it was drawn past him and away from him. + </p> + <p> + “I'll bet a fiver it isn't loaded,” Bertie proposed warmly. + </p> + <p> + The other shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Then I'll show you.” + </p> + <p> + Bertie started to put the muzzle to his own temple with the evident + intention of pulling the trigger. + </p> + <p> + “Just a second,” Captain Malu said quietly, reaching out his hand. “Let me + look at it.” + </p> + <p> + He pointed it seaward and pulled the trigger. A heavy explosion followed, + instantaneous with the sharp click of the mechanism that flipped a hot and + smoking cartridge sidewise along the deck. + </p> + <p> + Bertie's jaw dropped in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “I slipped the barrel back once, didn't I?” he explained. “It was silly of + me, I must say.” + </p> + <p> + He giggled flabbily, and sat down in a steamer chair. The blood had ebbed + from his face, exposing dark circles under his eyes. His hands were + trembling and unable to guide the shaking cigarette to his lips. The world + was too much with him, and he saw himself with dripping brains prone upon + the deck. + </p> + <p> + “Really,” he said, “... really.” + </p> + <p> + “It's a pretty weapon,” said Captain Malu, returning the automatic to him. + </p> + <p> + The Commissioner was on board the Makembo, returning from Sydney, and by + his permission a stop was made at Ugi to land a missionary. And at Ugi lay + the ketch ARLA, Captain Hansen, skipper. Now the Arla was one of many + vessels owned by Captain Malu, and it was at his suggestion and by his + invitation that Bertie went aboard the Arla as guest for a four days' + recruiting cruise on the coast of Malaita. Thereafter the ARLA would drop + him at Reminge Plantation (also owned by Captain Malu), where Bertie could + remain for a week, and then be sent over to Tulagi, the seat of + government, where he would become the Commissioner's guest. Captain Malu + was responsible for two other suggestions, which given, he disappears from + this narrative. One was to Captain Hansen, the other to Mr. Harriwell, + manager of Reminge Plantation. Both suggestions were similar in tenor, + namely, to give Mr. Bertram Arkwright an insight into the rawness and + redness of life in the Solomons. Also, it is whispered that Captain Malu + mentioned that a case of Scotch would be coincidental with any + particularly gorgeous insight Mr. Arkwright might receive............. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Swartz always was too pig-headed. You see, he took four of his + boat's crew to Tulagi to be flogged—officially, you know—then + started back with them in the whaleboat. It was pretty squally, and the + boat capsized just outside. Swartz was the only one drowned. Of course, it + was an accident.” + </p> + <p> + “Was it? Really?” Bertie asked, only half-interested, staring hard at the + black man at the wheel. + </p> + <p> + Ugi had dropped astern, and the ARLA was sliding along through a summer + sea toward the wooded ranges of Malaita. The helmsman who so attracted + Bertie's eyes sported a ten penny nail, stuck skewerwise through his nose. + About his neck was a string of pants buttons. Thrust through holes in his + ears were a can opener, the broken handle of a toothbrush, a clay pipe, + the brass wheel of an alarm clock, and several Winchester rifle + cartridges. + </p> + <p> + On his chest, suspended from around his neck hung the half of a china + plate. Some forty similarly appareled blacks lay about the deck, fifteen + of which were boat's crew, the remainder being fresh labor recruits. + </p> + <p> + “Of course it was an accident,” spoke up the ARLA'S mate, Jacobs, a + slender, dark-eyed man who looked more a professor than a sailor. “Johnny + Bedip nearly had the same kind of accident. He was bringing back several + from a flogging, when they capsized him. But he knew how to swim as well + as they, and two of them were drowned. He used a boat stretcher and a + revolver. Of course it was an accident.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite common, them accidents,” remarked the skipper. “You see that man at + the wheel, Mr. Arkwright? He's a man eater. Six months ago, he and the + rest of the boat's crew drowned the then captain of the ARLA. They did it + on deck, sir, right aft there by the mizzen-traveler.” + </p> + <p> + “The deck was in a shocking state,” said the mate. + </p> + <p> + “Do I understand—?” Bertie began. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, just that,” said Captain Hansen. “It was an accidental drowning.” + </p> + <p> + “But on deck—?” + </p> + <p> + “Just so. I don't mind telling you, in confidence, of course, that they + used an axe.” + </p> + <p> + “This present crew of yours?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Hansen nodded. + </p> + <p> + “The other skipper always was too careless,” explained the mate. “He but + just turned his back, when they let him have it.” + </p> + <p> + “We haven't any show down here,” was the skipper's complaint. “The + government protects a nigger against a white every time. You can't shoot + first. You've got to give the nigger first shot, or else the government + calls it murder and you go to Fiji. That's why there's so many drowning + accidents.” + </p> + <p> + Dinner was called, and Bertie and the skipper went below, leaving the mate + to watch on deck. + </p> + <p> + “Keep an eye out for that black devil, Auiki,” was the skipper's parting + caution. “I haven't liked his looks for several days.” + </p> + <p> + “Right O,” said the mate. + </p> + <p> + Dinner was part way along, and the skipper was in the middle of his story + of the cutting out of the Scottish Chiefs. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he was saying, “she was the finest vessel on the coast. But when + she missed stays, and before ever she hit the reef, the canoes started for + her. There were five white men, a crew of twenty Santa Cruz boys and + Samoans, and only the supercargo escaped. Besides, there were sixty + recruits. They were all kai-kai'd. Kai-kai?—oh, I beg your pardon. I + mean they were eaten. Then there was the James Edwards, a dandy-rigged—” + </p> + <p> + But at that moment there was a sharp oath from the mate on deck and a + chorus of savage cries. A revolver went off three times, and then was + heard a loud splash. Captain Hansen had sprung up the companionway on the + instant, and Bertie's eyes had been fascinated by a glimpse of him drawing + his revolver as he sprang. + </p> + <p> + Bertie went up more circumspectly, hesitating before he put his head above + the companionway slide. But nothing happened. The mate was shaking with + excitement, his revolver in his hand. Once he startled, and half-jumped + around, as if danger threatened his back. + </p> + <p> + “One of the natives fell overboard,” he was saying, in a queer tense + voice. “He couldn't swim.” + </p> + <p> + “Who was it?” the skipper demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Auiki,” was the answer. + </p> + <p> + “But I say, you know, I heard shots,” Bertie said, in trembling eagerness, + for he scented adventure, and adventure that was happily over with. + </p> + <p> + The mate whirled upon him, snarling: + </p> + <p> + “It's a damned lie. There ain't been a shot fired. The nigger fell + overboard.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Hansen regarded Bertie with unblinking, lack-luster eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I—I thought—” Bertie was beginning. + </p> + <p> + “Shots?” said Captain Hansen, dreamily. “Shots? Did you hear any shots, + Mr. Jacobs?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a shot,” replied Mr. Jacobs. + </p> + <p> + The skipper looked at his guest triumphantly, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Evidently an accident. Let us go down, Mr. Arkwright, and finish dinner.” + </p> + <p> + Bertie slept that night in the captain's cabin, a tiny stateroom off the + main cabin. The for'ard bulkhead was decorated with a stand of rifles. + Over the bunk were three more rifles. Under the bunk was a big drawer, + which, when he pulled it out, he found filled with ammunition, dynamite, + and several boxes of detonators. He elected to take the settee on the + opposite side. Lying conspicuously on the small table, was the Arla's log. + Bertie did not know that it had been especially prepared for the occasion + by Captain Malu, and he read therein how on September 21, two boat's crew + had fallen overboard and been drowned. Bertie read between the lines and + knew better. He read how the Arla's whale boat had been bushwhacked at + Su'u and had lost three men; of how the skipper discovered the cook + stewing human flesh on the galley fire—flesh purchased by the boat's + crew ashore in Fui; of how an accidental discharge of dynamite, while + signaling, had killed another boat's crew; of night attacks; ports fled + from between the dawns; attacks by bushmen in mangrove swamps and by + fleets of salt-water men in the larger passages. One item that occurred + with monotonous frequency was death by dysentery. He noticed with alarm + that two white men had so died—guests, like himself, on the Arla. + </p> + <p> + “I say, you know,” Bertie said next day to Captain Hansen. “I've been + glancing through your log.” + </p> + <p> + The skipper displayed quick vexation that the log had been left lying + about. + </p> + <p> + “And all that dysentery, you know, that's all rot, just like the + accidental drownings,” Bertie continued. “What does dysentery really stand + for?” + </p> + <p> + The skipper openly admired his guest's acumen, stiffened himself to make + indignant denial, then gracefully surrendered. + </p> + <p> + “You see, it's like this, Mr. Arkwright. These islands have got a bad + enough name as it is. It's getting harder every day to sign on white men. + Suppose a man is killed. The company has to pay through the nose for + another man to take the job. But if the man merely dies of sickness, it's + all right. The new chums don't mind disease. What they draw the line at is + being murdered. I thought the skipper of the Arla had died of dysentery + when I took his billet. Then it was too late. I'd signed the contract.” + </p> + <p> + “Besides,” said Mr. Jacobs, “there's altogether too many accidental + drownings anyway. It don't look right. It's the fault of the government. A + white man hasn't a chance to defend himself from the niggers.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, look at the Princess and that Yankee mate,” the skipper took up the + tale. “She carried five white men besides a government agent. The captain, + the agent, and the supercargo were ashore in the two boats. They were + killed to the last man. The mate and boson, with about fifteen of the crew—Samoans + and Tongans—were on board. A crowd of niggers came off from shore. + First thing the mate knew, the boson and the crew were killed in the first + rush. The mate grabbed three cartridge belts and two Winchesters and + skinned up to the cross-trees. He was the sole survivor, and you can't + blame him for being mad. He pumped one rifle till it got so hot he + couldn't hold it, then he pumped the other. The deck was black with + niggers. He cleaned them out. He dropped them as they went over the rail, + and he dropped them as fast as they picked up their paddles. Then they + jumped into the water and started to swim for it, and being mad, he got + half a dozen more. And what did he get for it?” + </p> + <p> + “Seven years in Fiji,” snapped the mate. + </p> + <p> + “The government said he wasn't justified in shooting after they'd taken to + the water,” the skipper explained. + </p> + <p> + “And that's why they die of dysentery nowadays,” the mate added. + </p> + <p> + “Just fancy,” said Bertie, as he felt a longing for the cruise to be over. + </p> + <p> + Later on in the day he interviewed the black who had been pointed out to + him as a cannibal. This fellow's name was Sumasai. He had spent three + years on a Queensland plantation. He had been to Samoa, and Fiji, and + Sydney; and as a boat's crew had been on recruiting schooners through New + Britain, New Ireland, New Guinea, and the Admiralties. Also, he was a wag, + and he had taken a line on his skipper's conduct. Yes, he had eaten many + men. How many? He could not remember the tally. Yes, white men, too; they + were very good, unless they were sick. He had once eaten a sick one. + </p> + <p> + “My word!” he cried, at the recollection. “Me sick plenty along him. My + belly walk about too much.” + </p> + <p> + Bertie shuddered, and asked about heads. Yes, Sumasai had several hidden + ashore, in good condition, sun-dried, and smoke-cured. One was of the + captain of a schooner. It had long whiskers. He would sell it for two + quid. Black men's heads he would sell for one quid. He had some pickaninny + heads, in poor condition, that he would let go for ten bob. + </p> + <p> + Five minutes afterward, Bertie found himself sitting on the + companionway-slide alongside a black with a horrible skin disease. He + sheered off, and on inquiry was told that it was leprosy. He hurried below + and washed himself with antiseptic soap. He took many antiseptic washes in + the course of the day, for every native on board was afflicted with + malignant ulcers of one sort or another. + </p> + <p> + As the Arla drew in to an anchorage in the midst of mangrove swamps, a + double row of barbed wire was stretched around above her rail. That looked + like business, and when Bertie saw the shore canoes alongside, armed with + spears, bows and arrows, and Sniders, he wished more earnestly than ever + that the cruise was over. + </p> + <p> + That evening the natives were slow in leaving the ship at sundown. A + number of them checked the mate when he ordered them ashore. “Never mind, + I'll fix them,” said Captain Hansen, diving below. + </p> + <p> + When he came back, he showed Bertie a stick of dynamite attached to a fish + hook. Now it happens that a paper-wrapped bottle of chlorodyne with a + piece of harmless fuse projecting can fool anybody. It fooled Bertie, and + it fooled the natives. When Captain Hansen lighted the fuse and hooked the + fish hook into the tail end of a native's loin cloth, that native was + smitten with so an ardent a desire for the shore that he forgot to shed + the loin cloth. He started for'ard, the fuse sizzling and spluttering at + his rear, the natives in his path taking headers over the barbed wire at + every jump. Bertie was horror-stricken. So was Captain Hansen. He had + forgotten his twenty-five recruits, on each of which he had paid thirty + shillings advance. They went over the side along with the shore-dwelling + folk and followed by him who trailed the sizzling chlorodyne bottle. + </p> + <p> + Bertie did not see the bottle go off; but the mate opportunely discharging + a stick of real dynamite aft where it would harm nobody, Bertie would have + sworn in any admiralty court to a nigger blown to flinders. The flight of + the twenty-five recruits had actually cost the Arla forty pounds, and, + since they had taken to the bush, there was no hope of recovering them. + The skipper and his mate proceeded to drown their sorrow in cold tea. + </p> + <p> + The cold tea was in whiskey bottles, so Bertie did not know it was cold + tea they were mopping up. All he knew was that the two men got very drunk + and argued eloquently and at length as to whether the exploded nigger + should be reported as a case of dysentery or as an accidental drowning. + When they snored off to sleep, he was the only white man left, and he kept + a perilous watch till dawn, in fear of an attack from shore and an + uprising of the crew. + </p> + <p> + Three more days the Arla spent on the coast, and three more nights the + skipper and the mate drank overfondly of cold tea, leaving Bertie to keep + the watch. They knew he could be depended upon, while he was equally + certain that if he lived, he would report their drunken conduct to Captain + Malu. Then the Arla dropped anchor at Reminge Plantation, on Guadalcanar, + and Bertie landed on the beach with a sigh of relief and shook hands with + the manager. Mr. Harriwell was ready for him. + </p> + <p> + “Now you mustn't be alarmed if some of our fellows seem downcast,” Mr. + Harriwell said, having drawn him aside in confidence. “There's been talk + of an outbreak, and two or three suspicious signs I'm willing to admit, + but personally I think it's all poppycock.” + </p> + <p> + “How—how many blacks have you on the plantation?” Bertie asked, with + a sinking heart. + </p> + <p> + “We're working four hundred just now,” replied Mr. Harriwell, cheerfully; + “but the three of us, with you, of course, and the skipper and mate of the + Arla, can handle them all right.” + </p> + <p> + Bertie turned to meet one McTavish, the storekeeper, who scarcely + acknowledged the introduction, such was his eagerness to present his + resignation. + </p> + <p> + “It being that I'm a married man, Mr. Harriwell, I can't very well afford + to remain on longer. Trouble is working up, as plain as the nose on your + face. The niggers are going to break out, and there'll be another Hohono + horror here.” + </p> + <p> + “What's a Hohono horror?” Bertie asked, after the storekeeper had been + persuaded to remain until the end of the month. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he means Hohono Plantation, on Ysabel,” said the manager. “The + niggers killed the five white men ashore, captured the schooner, killed + the captain and mate, and escaped in a body to Malaita. But I always said + they were careless on Hohono. They won't catch us napping here. Come + along, Mr. Arkwright, and see our view from the veranda.” + </p> + <p> + Bertie was too busy wondering how he could get away to Tulagi to the + Commissioner's house, to see much of the view. He was still wondering, + when a rifle exploded very near to him, behind his back. At the same + moment his arm was nearly dislocated, so eagerly did Mr. Harriwell drag + him indoors. + </p> + <p> + “I say, old man, that was a close shave,” said the manager, pawing him + over to see if he had been hit. “I can't tell you how sorry I am. But it + was broad daylight, and I never dreamed.” + </p> + <p> + Bertie was beginning to turn pale. + </p> + <p> + “They got the other manager that way,” McTavish vouchsafed. “And a dashed + fine chap he was. Blew his brains out all over the veranda. You noticed + that dark stain there between the steps and the door?” + </p> + <p> + Bertie was ripe for the cocktail which Mr. Harriwell pitched in and + compounded for him; but before he could drink it, a man in riding trousers + and puttees entered. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter now?” the manager asked, after one look at the + newcomer's face. “Is the river up again?” + </p> + <p> + “River be blowed—it's the niggers. Stepped out of the cane grass, + not a dozen feet away, and whopped at me. It was a Snider, and he shot + from the hip. Now what I want to know is where'd he get that Snider?—Oh, + I beg pardon. Glad to know you, Mr. Arkwright.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Brown is my assistant,” explained Mr. Harriwell. “And now let's have + that drink.” + </p> + <p> + “But where'd he get that Snider?” Mr. Brown insisted. “I always objected + to keeping those guns on the premises.” + </p> + <p> + “They're still there,” Mr. Harriwell said, with a show of heat. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Brown smiled incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “Come along and see,” said the manager. + </p> + <p> + Bertie joined the procession into the office, where Mr. Harriwell pointed + triumphantly at a big packing case in a dusty corner. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then where did the beggar get that Snider?” harped Mr. Brown. + </p> + <p> + But just then McTavish lifted the packing case. The manager started, then + tore off the lid. The case was empty. They gazed at one another in + horrified silence. Harriwell drooped wearily. + </p> + <p> + Then McVeigh cursed. + </p> + <p> + “What I contended all along—the house-boys are not to be trusted.” + </p> + <p> + “It does look serious,” Harriwell admitted, “but we'll come through it all + right. What the sanguinary niggers need is a shaking up. Will you + gentlemen please bring your rifles to dinner, and will you, Mr. Brown, + kindly prepare forty or fifty sticks of dynamite. Make the fuses good and + short. We'll give them a lesson. And now, gentlemen, dinner is served.” + </p> + <p> + One thing that Bertie detested was rice and curry, so it happened that he + alone partook of an inviting omelet. He had quite finished his plate, when + Harriwell helped himself to the omelet. One mouthful he tasted, then spat + out vociferously. + </p> + <p> + “That's the second time,” McTavish announced ominously. + </p> + <p> + Harriwell was still hawking and spitting. + </p> + <p> + “Second time, what?” Bertie quavered. + </p> + <p> + “Poison,” was the answer. “That cook will be hanged yet.” + </p> + <p> + “That's the way the bookkeeper went out at Cape March,” Brown spoke up. + “Died horribly. They said on the Jessie that they heard him screaming + three miles away.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll put the cook in irons,” sputtered Harriwell. “Fortunately we + discovered it in time.” + </p> + <p> + Bertie sat paralyzed. There was no color in his face. He attempted to + speak, but only an inarticulate gurgle resulted. All eyed him anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “Don't say it, don't say it,” McTavish cried in a tense voice. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I ate it, plenty of it, a whole plateful!” Bertie cried explosively, + like a diver suddenly regaining breath. + </p> + <p> + The awful silence continued half a minute longer, and he read his fate in + their eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Maybe it wasn't poison after all,” said Harriwell, dismally. + </p> + <p> + “Call in the cook,” said Brown. + </p> + <p> + In came the cook, a grinning black boy, nose-spiked and ear-plugged. + </p> + <p> + “Here, you, Wi-wi, what name that?” Harriwell bellowed, pointing + accusingly at the omelet. + </p> + <p> + Wi-wi was very naturally frightened and embarrassed. + </p> + <p> + “Him good fella kai-kai,” he murmured apologetically. + </p> + <p> + “Make him eat it,” suggested McTavish. “That's a proper test.” + </p> + <p> + Harriwell filled a spoon with the stuff and jumped for the cook, who fled + in panic. + </p> + <p> + “That settles it,” was Brown's solemn pronouncement. “He won't eat it.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Brown, will you please go and put the irons on him?” Harriwell turned + cheerfully to Bertie. “It's all right, old man, the Commissioner will deal + with him, and if you die, depend upon it, he will be hanged.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't think the government'll do it,” objected McTavish. + </p> + <p> + “But gentlemen, gentlemen,” Bertie cried. “In the meantime think of me.” + </p> + <p> + Harriwell shrugged his shoulders pityingly. + </p> + <p> + “Sorry, old man, but it's a native poison, and there are no known + antidotes for native poisons. Try and compose yourself and if—” + </p> + <p> + Two sharp reports of a rifle from without, interrupted the discourse, and + Brown, entering, reloaded his rifle and sat down to table. + </p> + <p> + “The cook's dead,” he said. “Fever. A rather sudden attack.” + </p> + <p> + “I was just telling Mr. Arkwright that there are no antidotes for native + poisons—” + </p> + <p> + “Except gin,” said Brown. + </p> + <p> + Harriwell called himself an absent-minded idiot and rushed for the gin + bottle. + </p> + <p> + “Neat, man, neat,” he warned Bertie, who gulped down a tumbler two-thirds + full of the raw spirits, and coughed and choked from the angry bite of it + till the tears ran down his cheeks. + </p> + <p> + Harriwell took his pulse and temperature, made a show of looking out for + him, and doubted that the omelet had been poisoned. Brown and McTavish + also doubted; but Bertie discerned an insincere ring in their voices. His + appetite had left him, and he took his own pulse stealthily under the + table. There was no question but what it was increasing, but he failed to + ascribe it to the gin he had taken. McTavish, rifle in hand, went out on + the veranda to reconnoiter. + </p> + <p> + “They're massing up at the cook-house,” was his report. “And they've no + end of Sniders. My idea is to sneak around on the other side and take them + in flank. Strike the first blow, you know. Will you come along, Brown?” + </p> + <p> + Harriwell ate on steadily, while Bertie discovered that his pulse had + leaped up five beats. Nevertheless, he could not help jumping when the + rifles began to go off. Above the scattering of Sniders could be heard the + pumping of Brown's and McTavish's Winchesters—all against a + background of demoniacal screeching and yelling. + </p> + <p> + “They've got them on the run,” Harriwell remarked, as voices and gunshots + faded away in the distance. + </p> + <p> + Scarcely were Brown and McTavish back at the table when the latter + reconnoitered. + </p> + <p> + “They've got dynamite,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Then let's charge them with dynamite,” Harriwell proposed. + </p> + <p> + Thrusting half a dozen sticks each into their pockets and equipping + themselves with lighted cigars, they started for the door. And just then + it happened. They blamed McTavish for it afterward, and he admitted that + the charge had been a trifle excessive. But at any rate it went off under + the house, which lifted up cornerwise and settled back on its foundations. + Half the china on the table was shattered, while the eight-day clock + stopped. Yelling for vengeance, the three men rushed out into the night, + and the bombardment began. + </p> + <p> + When they returned, there was no Bertie. He had dragged himself away to + the office, barricaded himself in, and sunk upon the floor in a gin-soaked + nightmare, wherein he died a thousand deaths while the valorous fight went + on around him. In the morning, sick and headachey from the gin, he crawled + out to find the sun still in the sky and God presumable in heaven, for his + hosts were alive and uninjured. + </p> + <p> + Harriwell pressed him to stay on longer, but Bertie insisted on sailing + immediately on the Arla for Tulagi, where, until the following steamer + day, he stuck close by the Commissioner's house. There were lady tourists + on the outgoing steamer, and Bertie was again a hero, while Captain Malu, + as usual, passed unnoticed. But Captain Malu sent back from Sydney two + cases of the best Scotch whiskey on the market, for he was not able to + make up his mind as to whether it was Captain Hansen or Mr Harriwell who + had given Bertie Arkwright the more gorgeous insight into life in the + Solomons. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE INEVITABLE WHITE MAN + </h2> + <p> + “The black will never understand the white, nor the white the black, as + long as black is black and white is white.” + </p> + <p> + So said Captain Woodward. We sat in the parlor of Charley Roberts' pub in + Apia, drinking long Abu Hameds compounded and shared with us by the + aforesaid Charley Roberts, who claimed the recipe direct from Stevens, + famous for having invented the Abu Hamed at a time when he was spurred on + by Nile thirst—the Stevens who was responsible for “With Kitchener + to Kartoun,” and who passed out at the siege of Ladysmith. + </p> + <p> + Captain Woodward, short and squat, elderly, burned by forty years of + tropic sun, and with the most beautiful liquid brown eyes I ever saw in a + man, spoke from a vast experience. The crisscross of scars on his bald + pate bespoke a tomahawk intimacy with the black, and of equal intimacy was + the advertisement, front and rear, on the right side of his neck, where an + arrow had at one time entered and been pulled clean through. As he + explained, he had been in a hurry on that occasion—the arrow impeded + his running—and he felt that he could not take the time to break off + the head and pull out the shaft the way it had come in. At the present + moment he was commander of the SAVAII, the big steamer that recruited + labor from the westward for the German plantations on Samoa. + </p> + <p> + “Half the trouble is the stupidity of the whites,” said Roberts, pausing + to take a swig from his glass and to curse the Samoan bar-boy in + affectionate terms. “If the white man would lay himself out a bit to + understand the workings of the black man's mind, most of the messes would + be avoided.” + </p> + <p> + “I've seen a few who claimed they understood niggers,” Captain Woodward + retorted, “and I always took notice that they were the first to be + kai-kai'd (eaten). Look at the missionaries in New Guinea and the New + Hebrides—the martyr isle of Erromanga and all the rest. Look at the + Austrian expedition that was cut to pieces in the Solomons, in the bush of + Guadalcanar. And look at the traders themselves, with a score of years' + experience, making their brag that no nigger would ever get them, and + whose heads to this day are ornamenting the rafters of the canoe houses. + There was old Johnny Simons—twenty-six years on the raw edges of + Melanesia, swore he knew the niggers like a book and that they'd never do + for him, and he passed out at Marovo Lagoon, New Georgia, had his head + sawed off by a black Mary (woman) and an old nigger with only one leg, + having left the other leg in the mouth of a shark while diving for + dynamited fish. There was Billy Watts, horrible reputation as a nigger + killer, a man to scare the devil. I remember lying at Cape Little, New + Ireland you know, when the niggers stole half a case of trade-tobacco—cost + him about three dollars and a half. In retaliation he turned out, shot six + niggers, smashed up their war canoes and burned two villages. And it was + at Cape Little, four years afterward, that he was jumped along with fifty + Buku boys he had with him fishing bêche-de-mer. In five minutes they were + all dead, with the exception of three boys who got away in a canoe. Don't + talk to me about understanding the nigger. The white man's mission is to + farm the world, and it's a big enough job cut out for him. What time has + he got left to understand niggers anyway?” + </p> + <p> + “Just so,” said Roberts. “And somehow it doesn't seem necessary, after + all, to understand the niggers. In direct proportion to the white man's + stupidity is his success in farming the world—” + </p> + <p> + “And putting the fear of God into the nigger's heart,” Captain Woodward + blurted out. “Perhaps you're right, Roberts. Perhaps it's his stupidity + that makes him succeed, and surely one phase of his stupidity is his + inability to understand the niggers. But there's one thing sure, the white + has to run the niggers whether he understands them or not. It's + inevitable. It's fate.” + </p> + <p> + “And of course the white man is inevitable—it's the niggers' fate,” + Roberts broke in. “Tell the white man there's pearl shell in some lagoon + infested by ten-thousand howling cannibals, and he'll head there all by + his lonely, with half a dozen kanaka divers and a tin alarm clock for + chronometer, all packed like sardines on a commodious, five-ton ketch. + Whisper that there's a gold strike at the North Pole, and that same + inevitable white-skinned creature will set out at once, armed with pick + and shovel, a side of bacon, and the latest patent rocker—and what's + more, he'll get there. Tip it off to him that there's diamonds on the + red-hot ramparts of hell, and Mr. White Man will storm the ramparts and + set old Satan himself to pick-and-shovel work. That's what comes of being + stupid and inevitable.” + </p> + <p> + “But I wonder what the black man must think of the—the + inevitableness,” I said. + </p> + <p> + Captain Woodward broke into quiet laughter. His eyes had a reminiscent + gleam. + </p> + <p> + “I'm just wondering what the niggers of Malu thought and still must be + thinking of the one inevitable white man we had on board when we visited + them in the DUCHESS,” he explained. + </p> + <p> + Roberts mixed three more Abu Hameds. + </p> + <p> + “That was twenty years ago. Saxtorph was his name. He was certainly the + most stupid man I ever saw, but he was as inevitable as death. There was + only one thing that chap could do, and that was shoot. I remember the + first time I ran into him—right here in Apia, twenty years ago. That + was before your time, Roberts. I was sleeping at Dutch Henry's hotel, down + where the market is now. Ever heard of him? He made a tidy stake smuggling + arms in to the rebels, sold out his hotel, and was killed in Sydney just + six weeks afterward in a saloon row. + </p> + <p> + “But Saxtorph. One night I'd just got to sleep, when a couple of cats + began to sing in the courtyard. It was out of bed and up window, water jug + in hand. But just then I heard the window of the next room go up. Two + shots were fired, and the window was closed. I fail to impress you with + the celerity of the transaction. Ten seconds at the outside. Up went the + window, bang bang went the revolver, and down went the window. Whoever it + was, he had never stopped to see the effect of his shots. He knew. Do you + follow me?—he KNEW. There was no more cat concert, and in the + morning there lay the two offenders, stone dead. It was marvelous to me. + It still is marvelous. First, it was starlight, and Saxtorph shot without + drawing a bead; next, he shot so rapidly that the two reports were like a + double report; and finally, he knew he had hit his marks without looking + to see. + </p> + <p> + “Two days afterward he came on board to see me. I was mate, then, on the + Duchess, a whacking big one-hundred-and fifty-ton schooner, a blackbirder. + And let me tell you that blackbirders were blackbirders in those days. + There weren't any government protection for US, either. It was rough work, + give and take, if we were finished, and nothing said, and we ran niggers + from every south sea island they didn't kick us off from. Well, Saxtorph + came on board, John Saxtorph was the name he gave. He was a sandy little + man, hair sandy, complexion sandy, and eyes sandy, too. Nothing striking + about him. His soul was as neutral as his color scheme. He said he was + strapped and wanted to ship on board. Would go cabin boy, cook, + supercargo, or common sailor. Didn't know anything about any of the + billets, but said that he was willing to learn. I didn't want him, but his + shooting had so impressed me that I took him as common sailor, wages three + pounds per month. + </p> + <p> + “He was willing to learn all right, I'll say that much. But he was + constitutionally unable to learn anything. He could no more box the + compass than I could mix drinks like Roberts here. And as for steering, he + gave me my first gray hairs. I never dared risk him at the wheel when we + were running in a big sea, while full-and-by and close-and-by were + insoluble mysteries. Couldn't ever tell the difference between a sheet and + a tackle, simply couldn't. The fore-throat-jig and the jib-jig were all + one to him. Tell him to slack off the mainsheet, and before you know it, + he'd drop the peak. He fell overboard three times, and he couldn't swim. + But he was always cheerful, never seasick, and he was the most willing man + I ever knew. He was an uncommunicative soul. Never talked about himself. + His history, so far as we were concerned, began the day he signed on the + DUCHESS. Where he learned to shoot, the stars alone can tell. He was a + Yankee—that much we knew from the twang in his speech. And that was + all we ever did know. + </p> + <p> + “And now we begin to get to the point. We had bad luck in the New + Hebrides, only fourteen boys for five weeks, and we ran up before the + southeast for the Solomons. Malaita, then as now, was good recruiting + ground, and we ran into Malu, on the northwestern corner. There's a shore + reef and an outer reef, and a mighty nervous anchorage; but we made it all + right and fired off our dynamite as a signal to the niggers to come down + and be recruited. In three days we got not a boy. The niggers came off to + us in their canoes by hundreds, but they only laughed when we showed them + beads and calico and hatchets and talked of the delights of plantation + work in Samoa. + </p> + <p> + “On the fourth day there came a change. Fifty-odd boys signed on and were + billeted in the main-hold, with the freedom of the deck, of course. And of + course, looking back, this wholesale signing on was suspicious, but at the + time we thought some powerful chief had removed the ban against + recruiting. The morning of the fifth day our two boats went ashore as + usual—one to cover the other, you know, in case of trouble. And, as + usual, the fifty niggers on board were on deck, loafing, talking, smoking, + and sleeping. Saxtorph and myself, along with four other sailors, were all + that were left on board. The two boats were manned with Gilbert Islanders. + In the one were the captain, the supercargo, and the recruiter. In the + other, which was the covering boat and which lay off shore a hundred + yards, was the second mate. Both boats were well-armed, though trouble was + little expected. + </p> + <p> + “Four of the sailors, including Saxtorph, were scraping the poop rail. The + fifth sailor, rifle in hand, was standing guard by the water-tank just + for'ard of the mainmast. I was for'ard, putting in the finishing licks on + a new jaw for the fore-gaff. I was just reaching for my pipe where I had + laid it down, when I heard a shot from shore. I straightened up to look. + Something struck me on the back of the head, partially stunning me and + knocking me to the deck. My first thought was that something had carried + away aloft; but even as I went down, and before I struck the deck, I heard + the devil's own tattoo of rifles from the boats, and twisting sidewise, I + caught a glimpse of the sailor who was standing guard. Two big niggers + were holding his arms, and a third nigger from behind was braining him + with a tomahawk. + </p> + <p> + “I can see it now, the water-tank, the mainmast, the gang hanging on to + him, the hatchet descending on the back of his head, and all under the + blazing sunlight. I was fascinated by that growing vision of death. The + tomahawk seemed to take a horribly long time to come down. I saw it land, + and the man's legs give under him as he crumpled. The niggers held him up + by sheer strength while he was hacked a couple of times more. Then I got + two more hacks on the head and decided that I was dead. So did the brute + that was hacking me. I was too helpless to move, and I lay there and + watched them removing the sentry's head. I must say they did it slick + enough. They were old hands at the business. + </p> + <p> + “The rifle firing from the boats had ceased, and I made no doubt that they + were finished off and that the end had come to everything. It was only a + matter of moments when they would return for my head. They were evidently + taking the heads from the sailors aft. Heads are valuable on Malaita, + especially white heads. They have the place of honor in the canoe houses + of the salt-water natives. What particular decorative effect the bushmen + get out of them I didn't know, but they prize them just as much as the + salt-water crowd. + </p> + <p> + “I had a dim notion of escaping, and I crawled on hands and knees to the + winch, where I managed to drag myself to my feet. From there I could look + aft and see three heads on top the cabin—the heads of three sailors + I had given orders to for months. The niggers saw me standing, and started + for me. I reached for my revolver, and found they had taken it. I can't + say that I was scared. I've been near to death several times, but it never + seemed easier than right then. I was half-stunned, and nothing seemed to + matter. + </p> + <p> + “The leading nigger had armed himself with a cleaver from the galley, and + he grimaced like an ape as he prepared to slice me down. But the slice was + never made. He went down on the deck all of a heap, and I saw the blood + gush from his mouth. In a dim way I heard a rifle go off and continue to + go off. Nigger after nigger went down. My senses began to clear, and I + noted that there was never a miss. Every time that the rifle went off a + nigger dropped. I sat down on deck beside the winch and looked up. Perched + in the crosstrees was Saxtorph. How he had managed it I can't imagine, for + he had carried up with him two Winchesters and I don't know how many + bandoliers of ammunition; and he was now doing the one only thing in this + world that he was fitted to do. + </p> + <p> + “I've seen shooting and slaughter, but I never saw anything like that. I + sat by the winch and watched the show. I was weak and faint, and it seemed + to be all a dream. Bang, bang, bang, bang, went his rifle, and thud, thud, + thud, thud, went the niggers to the deck. It was amazing to see them go + down. After their first rush to get me, when about a dozen had dropped, + they seemed paralyzed; but he never left off pumping his gun. By this time + canoes and the two boats arrived from shore, armed with Sniders, and with + Winchesters which they had captured in the boats. The fusillade they let + loose on Saxtorph was tremendous. Luckily for him the niggers are only + good at close range. They are not used to putting the gun to their + shoulders. They wait until they are right on top of a man, and then they + shoot from the hip. When his rifle got too hot, Saxtorph changed off. That + had been his idea when he carried two rifles up with him. + </p> + <p> + “The astounding thing was the rapidity of his fire. Also, he never made a + miss. If ever anything was inevitable, that man was. It was the swiftness + of it that made the slaughter so appalling. The niggers did not have time + to think. When they did manage to think, they went over the side in a + rush, capsizing the canoes of course. Saxtorph never let up. The water was + covered with them, and plump, plump, plump, he dropped his bullets into + them. Not a single miss, and I could hear distinctly the thud of every + bullet as it buried in human flesh. + </p> + <p> + “The niggers spread out and headed for the shore, swimming. The water was + carpeted with bobbing heads, and I stood up, as in a dream, and watched it + all—the bobbing heads and the heads that ceased to bob. Some of the + long shots were magnificent. Only one man reached the beach, but as he + stood up to wade ashore, Saxtorph got him. It was beautiful. And when a + couple of niggers ran down to drag him out of the water, Saxtorph got + them, too. + </p> + <p> + “I thought everything was over then, when I heard the rifle go off again. + A nigger had come out of the cabin companion on the run for the rail and + gone down in the middle of it. The cabin must have been full of them. I + counted twenty. They came up one at a time and jumped for the rail. But + they never got there. It reminded me of trapshooting. A black body would + pop out of the companion, bang would go Saxtorph's rifle, and down would + go the black body. Of course, those below did not know what was happening + on deck, so they continued to pop out until the last one was finished off. + </p> + <p> + “Saxtorph waited a while to make sure, and then came down on deck. He and + I were all that were left of the DUCHESS'S complement, and I was pretty + well to the bad, while he was helpless now that the shooting was over. + Under my direction he washed out my scalp wounds and sewed them up. A big + drink of whiskey braced me to make an effort to get out. There was nothing + else to do. All the rest were dead. We tried to get up sail, Saxtorph + hoisting and I holding the turn. He was once more the stupid lubber. He + couldn't hoist worth a cent, and when I fell in a faint, it looked all up + with us. + </p> + <p> + “When I came to, Saxtorph was sitting helplessly on the rail, waiting to + ask me what he should do. I told him to overhaul the wounded and see if + there were any able to crawl. He gathered together six. One, I remember, + had a broken leg; but Saxtorph said his arms were all right. I lay in the + shade, brushing the flies off and directing operations, while Saxtorph + bossed his hospital gang. I'll be blessed if he didn't make those poor + niggers heave at every rope on the pin-rails before he found the halyards. + One of them let go the rope in the midst of the hoisting and slipped down + to the deck dead; but Saxtorph hammered the others and made them stick by + the job. When the fore and main were up, I told him to knock the shackle + out of the anchor chain and let her go. I had had myself helped aft to the + wheel, where I was going to make a shift at steering. I can't guess how he + did it, but instead of knocking the shackle out, down went the second + anchor, and there we were doubly moored. + </p> + <p> + “In the end he managed to knock both shackles out and raise the staysail + and jib, and the Duchess filled away for the entrance. Our decks were a + spectacle. Dead and dying niggers were everywhere. They were wedged away + some of them in the most inconceivable places. The cabin was full of them + where they had crawled off the deck and cashed in. I put Saxtorph and his + graveyard gang to work heaving them overside, and over they went, the + living and the dead. The sharks had fat pickings that day. Of course our + four murdered sailors went the same way. Their heads, however, we put in a + sack with weights, so that by no chance should they drift on the beach and + fall into the hands of the niggers. + </p> + <p> + “Our five prisoners I decided to use as crew, but they decided otherwise. + They watched their opportunity and went over the side. Saxtorph got two in + mid-air with his revolver, and would have shot the other three in the + water if I hadn't stopped him. I was sick of the slaughter, you see, and + besides, they'd helped work the schooner out. But it was mercy thrown + away, for the sharks got the three of them. + </p> + <p> + “I had brain fever or something after we got clear of the land. Anyway, + the DUCHESS lay hove to for three weeks, when I pulled myself together and + we jogged on with her to Sydney. Anyway those niggers of Malu learned the + everlasting lesson that it is not good to monkey with a white man. In + their case, Saxtorph was certainly inevitable.” + </p> + <p> + Charley Roberts emitted a long whistle and said: + </p> + <p> + “Well I should say so. But whatever became of Saxtorph?” + </p> + <p> + “He drifted into seal hunting and became a crackerjack. For six years he + was high line of both the Victoria and San Francisco fleets. The seventh + year his schooner was seized in Bering Sea by a Russian cruiser, and all + hands, so the talk went, were slammed into the Siberian salt mines. At + least I've never heard of him since.” + </p> + <p> + “Farming the world,” Roberts muttered. “Farming the world. Well here's to + them. Somebody's got to do it—farm the world, I mean.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Woodward rubbed the criss-crosses on his bald head. + </p> + <p> + “I've done my share of it,” he said. “Forty years now. This will be my + last trip. Then I'm going home to stay.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll wager the wine you don't,” Roberts challenged. “You'll die in the + harness, not at home.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Woodward promptly accepted the bet, but personally I think Charley + Roberts has the best of it. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE SEED OF McCOY + </h2> + <p> + The Pyrenees, her iron sides pressed low in the water by her cargo of + wheat, rolled sluggishly, and made it easy for the man who was climbing + aboard from out a tiny outrigger canoe. As his eyes came level with the + rail, so that he could see inboard, it seemed to him that he saw a dim, + almost indiscernible haze. It was more like an illusion, like a blurring + film that had spread abruptly over his eyes. He felt an inclination to + brush it away, and the same instant he thought that he was growing old and + that it was time to send to San Francisco for a pair of spectacles. + </p> + <p> + As he came over the rail he cast a glance aloft at the tall masts, and, + next, at the pumps. They were not working. There seemed nothing the matter + with the big ship, and he wondered why she had hoisted the signal of + distress. He thought of his happy islanders, and hoped it was not disease. + Perhaps the ship was short of water or provisions. He shook hands with the + captain whose gaunt face and care-worn eyes made no secret of the trouble, + whatever it was. At the same moment the newcomer was aware of a faint, + indefinable smell. It seemed like that of burnt bread, but different. + </p> + <p> + He glanced curiously about him. Twenty feet away a weary-faced sailor was + calking the deck. As his eyes lingered on the man, he saw suddenly arise + from under his hands a faint spiral of haze that curled and twisted and + was gone. By now he had reached the deck. His bare feet were pervaded by a + dull warmth that quickly penetrated the thick calluses. He knew now the + nature of the ship's distress. His eyes roved swiftly forward, where the + full crew of weary-faced sailors regarded him eagerly. The glance from his + liquid brown eyes swept over them like a benediction, soothing them, + rapping them about as in the mantle of a great peace. “How long has she + been afire, Captain?” he asked in a voice so gentle and unperturbed that + it was as the cooing of a dove. + </p> + <p> + At first the captain felt the peace and content of it stealing in upon + him; then the consciousness of all that he had gone through and was going + through smote him, and he was resentful. By what right did this ragged + beachcomber, in dungaree trousers and a cotton shirt, suggest such a thing + as peace and content to him and his overwrought, exhausted soul? The + captain did not reason this; it was the unconscious process of emotion + that caused his resentment. + </p> + <p> + “Fifteen days,” he answered shortly. “Who are you?” + </p> + <p> + “My name is McCoy,” came the answer in tones that breathed tenderness and + compassion. + </p> + <p> + “I mean, are you the pilot?” + </p> + <p> + McCoy passed the benediction of his gaze over the tall, heavy-shouldered + man with the haggard, unshaven face who had joined the captain. + </p> + <p> + “I am as much a pilot as anybody,” was McCoy's answer. “We are all pilots + here, Captain, and I know every inch of these waters.” + </p> + <p> + But the captain was impatient. + </p> + <p> + “What I want is some of the authorities. I want to talk with them, and + blame quick.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I'll do just as well.” + </p> + <p> + Again that insidious suggestion of peace, and his ship a raging furnace + beneath his feet! The captain's eyebrows lifted impatiently and nervously, + and his fist clenched as if he were about to strike a blow with it. + </p> + <p> + “Who in hell are you?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I am the chief magistrate,” was the reply in a voice that was still the + softest and gentlest imaginable. + </p> + <p> + The tall, heavy-shouldered man broke out in a harsh laugh that was partly + amusement, but mostly hysterical. Both he and the captain regarded McCoy + with incredulity and amazement. That this barefooted beachcomber should + possess such high-sounding dignity was inconceivable. His cotton shirt, + unbuttoned, exposed a grizzled chest and the fact that there was no + undershirt beneath. + </p> + <p> + A worn straw hat failed to hide the ragged gray hair. Halfway down his + chest descended an untrimmed patriarchal beard. In any slop shop, two + shillings would have outfitted him complete as he stood before them. + </p> + <p> + “Any relation to the McCoy of the Bounty?” the captain asked. + </p> + <p> + “He was my great-grandfather.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” the captain said, then bethought himself. “My name is Davenport, and + this is my first mate, Mr. Konig.” + </p> + <p> + They shook hands. + </p> + <p> + “And now to business.” The captain spoke quickly, the urgency of a great + haste pressing his speech. “We've been on fire for over two weeks. She's + ready to break all hell loose any moment. That's why I held for Pitcairn. + I want to beach her, or scuttle her, and save the hull.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you made a mistake, Captain,” said McCoy. “You should have slacked + away for Mangareva. There's a beautiful beach there, in a lagoon where the + water is like a mill pond.” + </p> + <p> + “But we're here, ain't we?” the first mate demanded. “That's the point. + We're here, and we've got to do something.” + </p> + <p> + McCoy shook his head kindly. + </p> + <p> + “You can do nothing here. There is no beach. There isn't even anchorage.” + </p> + <p> + “Gammon!” said the mate. “Gammon!” he repeated loudly, as the captain + signaled him to be more soft spoken. “You can't tell me that sort of + stuff. Where d'ye keep your own boats, hey—your schooner, or cutter, + or whatever you have? Hey? Answer me that.” + </p> + <p> + McCoy smiled as gently as he spoke. His smile was a caress, an embrace + that surrounded the tired mate and sought to draw him into the quietude + and rest of McCoy's tranquil soul. + </p> + <p> + “We have no schooner or cutter,” he replied. “And we carry our canoes to + the top of the cliff.” + </p> + <p> + “You've got to show me,” snorted the mate. “How d'ye get around to the + other islands, heh? Tell me that.” + </p> + <p> + “We don't get around. As governor of Pitcairn, I sometimes go. When I was + younger, I was away a great deal—sometimes on the trading schooners, + but mostly on the missionary brig. But she's gone now, and we depend on + passing vessels. Sometimes we have had as high as six calls in one year. + At other times, a year, and even longer, has gone by without one passing + ship. Yours is the first in seven months.” + </p> + <p> + “And you mean to tell me—” the mate began. + </p> + <p> + But Captain Davenport interfered. + </p> + <p> + “Enough of this. We're losing time. What is to be done, Mr. McCoy?” + </p> + <p> + The old man turned his brown eyes, sweet as a woman's, shoreward, and both + captain and mate followed his gaze around from the lonely rock of Pitcairn + to the crew clustering forward and waiting anxiously for the announcement + of a decision. McCoy did not hurry. He thought smoothly and slowly, step + by step, with the certitude of a mind that was never vexed or outraged by + life. + </p> + <p> + “The wind is light now,” he said finally. “There is a heavy current + setting to the westward.” + </p> + <p> + “That's what made us fetch to leeward,” the captain interrupted, desiring + to vindicate his seamanship. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is what fetched you to leeward,” McCoy went on. “Well, you + can't work up against this current today. And if you did, there is no + beach. Your ship will be a total loss.” + </p> + <p> + He paused, and captain and mate looked despair at each other. + </p> + <p> + “But I will tell you what you can do. The breeze will freshen tonight + around midnight—see those tails of clouds and that thickness to + windward, beyond the point there? That's where she'll come from, out of + the southeast, hard. It is three hundred miles to Mangareva. Square away + for it. There is a beautiful bed for your ship there.” + </p> + <p> + The mate shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Come in to the cabin, and we'll look at the chart,” said the captain. + </p> + <p> + McCoy found a stifling, poisonous atmosphere in the pent cabin. Stray + waftures of invisible gases bit his eyes and made them sting. The deck was + hotter, almost unbearably hot to his bare feet. The sweat poured out of + his body. He looked almost with apprehension about him. This malignant, + internal heat was astounding. It was a marvel that the cabin did not burst + into flames. He had a feeling as if of being in a huge bake oven where the + heat might at any moment increase tremendously and shrivel him up like a + blade of grass. + </p> + <p> + As he lifted one foot and rubbed the hot sole against the leg of his + trousers, the mate laughed in a savage, snarling fashion. + </p> + <p> + “The anteroom of hell,” he said. “Hell herself is right down there under + your feet.” + </p> + <p> + “It's hot!” McCoy cried involuntarily, mopping his face with a bandana + handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + “Here's Mangareva,” the captain said, bending over the table and pointing + to a black speck in the midst of the white blankness of the chart. “And + here, in between, is another island. Why not run for that?” + </p> + <p> + McCoy did not look at the chart. + </p> + <p> + “That's Crescent Island,” he answered. “It is uninhabited, and it is only + two or three feet above water. Lagoon, but no entrance. No, Mangareva is + the nearest place for your purpose.” + </p> + <p> + “Mangareva it is, then,” said Captain Davenport, interrupting the mate's + growling objection. “Call the crew aft, Mr. Konig.” + </p> + <p> + The sailors obeyed, shuffling wearily along the deck and painfully + endeavoring to make haste. Exhaustion was evident in every movement. The + cook came out of his galley to hear, and the cabin boy hung about near + him. + </p> + <p> + When Captain Davenport had explained the situation and announced his + intention of running for Mangareva, an uproar broke out. Against a + background of throaty rumbling arose inarticulate cries of rage, with here + and there a distinct curse, or word, or phrase. A shrill Cockney voice + soared and dominated for a moment, crying: “Gawd! After bein' in ell for + fifteen days—an' now e wants us to sail this floatin' ell to sea + again?” + </p> + <p> + The captain could not control them, but McCoy's gentle presence seemed to + rebuke and calm them, and the muttering and cursing died away, until the + full crew, save here and there an anxious face directed at the captain, + yearned dumbly toward the green clad peaks and beetling coast of Pitcairn. + </p> + <p> + Soft as a spring zephyr was the voice of McCoy: + </p> + <p> + “Captain, I thought I heard some of them say they were starving.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” was the answer, “and so we are. I've had a sea biscuit and a + spoonful of salmon in the last two days. We're on whack. You see, when we + discovered the fire, we battened down immediately to suffocate the fire. + And then we found how little food there was in the pantry. But it was too + late. We didn't dare break out the lazarette. Hungry? I'm just as hungry + as they are.” + </p> + <p> + He spoke to the men again, and again the throat rumbling and cursing + arose, their faces convulsed and animal-like with rage. The second and + third mates had joined the captain, standing behind him at the break of + the poop. Their faces were set and expressionless; they seemed bored, more + than anything else, by this mutiny of the crew. Captain Davenport glanced + questioningly at his first mate, and that person merely shrugged his + shoulders in token of his helplessness. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” the captain said to McCoy, “you can't compel sailors to leave + the safe land and go to sea on a burning vessel. She has been their + floating coffin for over two weeks now. They are worked out, and starved + out, and they've got enough of her. We'll beat up for Pitcairn.” + </p> + <p> + But the wind was light, the Pyrenees' bottom was foul, and she could not + beat up against the strong westerly current. At the end of two hours she + had lost three miles. The sailors worked eagerly, as if by main strength + they could compel the PYRENEES against the adverse elements. But steadily, + port tack and starboard tack, she sagged off to the westward. The captain + paced restlessly up and down, pausing occasionally to survey the vagrant + smoke wisps and to trace them back to the portions of the deck from which + they sprang. The carpenter was engaged constantly in attempting to locate + such places, and, when he succeeded, in calking them tighter and tighter. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what do you think?” the captain finally asked McCoy, who was + watching the carpenter with all a child's interest and curiosity in his + eyes. + </p> + <p> + McCoy looked shoreward, where the land was disappearing in the thickening + haze. + </p> + <p> + “I think it would be better to square away for Mangareva. With that breeze + that is coming, you'll be there tomorrow evening.” + </p> + <p> + “But what if the fire breaks out? It is liable to do it any moment.” + </p> + <p> + “Have your boats ready in the falls. The same breeze will carry your boats + to Mangareva if the ship burns out from under.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport debated for a moment, and then McCoy heard the question + he had not wanted to hear, but which he knew was surely coming. + </p> + <p> + “I have no chart of Mangareva. On the general chart it is only a fly + speck. I would not know where to look for the entrance into the lagoon. + Will you come along and pilot her in for me?” + </p> + <p> + McCoy's serenity was unbroken. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Captain,” he said, with the same quiet unconcern with which he would + have accepted an invitation to dinner; “I'll go with you to Mangareva.” + </p> + <p> + Again the crew was called aft, and the captain spoke to them from the + break of the poop. + </p> + <p> + “We've tried to work her up, but you see how we've lost ground. She's + setting off in a two-knot current. This gentleman is the Honorable McCoy, + Chief Magistrate and Governor of Pitcairn Island. He will come along with + us to Mangareva. So you see the situation is not so dangerous. He would + not make such an offer if he thought he was going to lose his life. + Besides, whatever risk there is, if he of his own free will come on board + and take it, we can do no less. What do you say for Mangareva?” + </p> + <p> + This time there was no uproar. McCoy's presence, the surety and calm that + seemed to radiate from him, had had its effect. They conferred with one + another in low voices. There was little urging. They were virtually + unanimous, and they shoved the Cockney out as their spokesman. That worthy + was overwhelmed with consciousness of the heroism of himself and his + mates, and with flashing eyes he cried: + </p> + <p> + “By Gawd! If 'e will, we will!” + </p> + <p> + The crew mumbled its assent and started forward. + </p> + <p> + “One moment, Captain,” McCoy said, as the other was turning to give orders + to the mate. “I must go ashore first.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Konig was thunderstruck, staring at McCoy as if he were a madman. + </p> + <p> + “Go ashore!” the captain cried. “What for? It will take you three hours to + get there in your canoe.” + </p> + <p> + McCoy measured the distance of the land away, and nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is six now. I won't get ashore till nine. The people cannot be + assembled earlier than ten. As the breeze freshens up tonight, you can + begin to work up against it, and pick me up at daylight tomorrow morning.” + </p> + <p> + “In the name of reason and common sense,” the captain burst forth, “what + do you want to assemble the people for? Don't you realize that my ship is + burning beneath me?” + </p> + <p> + McCoy was as placid as a summer sea, and the other's anger produced not + the slightest ripple upon it. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Captain,” he cooed in his dove-like voice. “I do realize that your + ship is burning. That is why I am going with you to Mangareva. But I must + get permission to go with you. It is our custom. It is an important matter + when the governor leaves the island. The people's interests are at stake, + and so they have the right to vote their permission or refusal. But they + will give it, I know that.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Then if you know they will give it, why bother with getting it? Think of + the delay—a whole night.” + </p> + <p> + “It is our custom,” was the imperturbable reply. “Also, I am the governor, + and I must make arrangements for the conduct of the island during my + absence.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is only a twenty-four hour run to Mangareva,” the captain + objected. “Suppose it took you six times that long to return to windward; + that would bring you back by the end of a week.” + </p> + <p> + McCoy smiled his large, benevolent smile. + </p> + <p> + “Very few vessels come to Pitcairn, and when they do, they are usually + from San Francisco or from around the Horn. I shall be fortunate if I get + back in six months. I may be away a year, and I may have to go to San + Francisco in order to find a vessel that will bring me back. My father + once left Pitcairn to be gone three months, and two years passed before he + could get back. Then, too, you are short of food. If you have to take to + the boats, and the weather comes up bad, you may be days in reaching land. + I can bring off two canoe loads of food in the morning. Dried bananas will + be best. As the breeze freshens, you beat up against it. The nearer you + are, the bigger loads I can bring off. Goodby.” + </p> + <p> + He held out his hand. The captain shook it, and was reluctant to let go. + He seemed to cling to it as a drowning sailor clings to a life buoy. + </p> + <p> + “How do I know you will come back in the morning?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that's it!” cried the mate. “How do we know but what he's skinning + out to save his own hide?” + </p> + <p> + McCoy did not speak. He looked at them sweetly and benignantly, and it + seemed to them that they received a message from his tremendous certitude + of soul. + </p> + <p> + The captain released his hand, and, with a last sweeping glance that + embraced the crew in its benediction, McCoy went over the rail and + descended into his canoe. + </p> + <p> + The wind freshened, and the Pyrenees, despite the foulness of her bottom, + won half a dozen miles away from the westerly current. At daylight, with + Pitcairn three miles to windward, Captain Davenport made out two canoes + coming off to him. Again McCoy clambered up the side and dropped over the + rail to the hot deck. He was followed by many packages of dried bananas, + each package wrapped in dry leaves. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Captain,” he said, “swing the yards and drive for dear life. You + see, I am no navigator,” he explained a few minutes later, as he stood by + the captain aft, the latter with gaze wandering from aloft to overside as + he estimated the Pyrenees' speed. “You must fetch her to Mangareva. When + you have picked up the land, then I will pilot her in. What do you think + she is making?” + </p> + <p> + “Eleven,” Captain Davenport answered, with a final glance at the water + rushing past. + </p> + <p> + “Eleven. Let me see, if she keeps up that gait, we'll sight Mangareva + between eight and nine o'clock tomorrow morning. I'll have her on the + beach by ten or by eleven at latest. And then your troubles will be all + over.” + </p> + <p> + It almost seemed to the captain that the blissful moment had already + arrived, such was the persuasive convincingness of McCoy. + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport had been under the fearful strain of navigating his + burning ship for over two weeks, and he was beginning to feel that he had + had enough. + </p> + <p> + A heavier flaw of wind struck the back of his neck and whistled by his + ears. He measured the weight of it, and looked quickly overside. + </p> + <p> + “The wind is making all the time,” he announced. “The old girl's doing + nearer twelve than eleven right now. If this keeps up, we'll be shortening + down tonight.” + </p> + <p> + All day the Pyrenees, carrying her load of living fire, tore across the + foaming sea. By nightfall, royals and topgallantsails were in, and she + flew on into the darkness, with great, crested seas roaring after her. The + auspicious wind had had its effect, and fore and aft a visible brightening + was apparent. In the second dog-watch some careless soul started a song, + and by eight bells the whole crew was singing. + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport had his blankets brought up and spread on top the house. + </p> + <p> + “I've forgotten what sleep is,” he explained to McCoy. “I'm all in. But + give me a call at any time you think necessary.” + </p> + <p> + At three in the morning he was aroused by a gentle tugging at his arm. He + sat up quickly, bracing himself against the skylight, stupid yet from his + heavy sleep. The wind was thrumming its war song in the rigging, and a + wild sea was buffeting the PYRENEES. Amidships she was wallowing first one + rail under and then the other, flooding the waist more often than not. + McCoy was shouting something he could not hear. He reached out, clutched + the other by the shoulder, and drew him close so that his own ear was + close to the other's lips. + </p> + <p> + “It's three o'clock,” came McCoy's voice, still retaining its dovelike + quality, but curiously muffled, as if from a long way off. “We've run two + hundred and fifty. Crescent Island is only thirty miles away, somewhere + there dead ahead. There's no lights on it. If we keep running, we'll pile + up, and lose ourselves as well as the ship.” + </p> + <p> + “What d' ye think—heave to?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; heave to till daylight. It will only put us back four hours.” + </p> + <p> + So the Pyrenees, with her cargo of fire, was hove to, bitting the teeth of + the gale and fighting and smashing the pounding seas. She was a shell, + filled with a conflagration, and on the outside of the shell, clinging + precariously, the little motes of men, by pull and haul, helped her in the + battle. + </p> + <p> + “It is most unusual, this gale,” McCoy told the captain, in the lee of the + cabin. “By rights there should be no gale at this time of the year. But + everything about the weather has been unusual. There has been a stoppage + of the trades, and now it's howling right out of the trade quarter.” He + waved his hand into the darkness, as if his vision could dimly penetrate + for hundreds of miles. “It is off to the westward. There is something big + making off there somewhere—a hurricane or something. We're lucky to + be so far to the eastward. But this is only a little blow,” he added. “It + can't last. I can tell you that much.” + </p> + <p> + By daylight the gale had eased down to normal. But daylight revealed a new + danger. It had come on thick. The sea was covered by a fog, or, rather, by + a pearly mist that was fog-like in density, in so far as it obstructed + vision, but that was no more than a film on the sea, for the sun shot it + through and filled it with a glowing radiance. + </p> + <p> + The deck of the Pyrenees was making more smoke than on the preceding day, + and the cheerfulness of officers and crew had vanished. In the lee of the + galley the cabin boy could be heard whimpering. It was his first voyage, + and the fear of death was at his heart. The captain wandered about like a + lost soul, nervously chewing his mustache, scowling, unable to make up his + mind what to do. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think?” he asked, pausing by the side of McCoy, who was + making a breakfast off fried bananas and a mug of water. + </p> + <p> + McCoy finished the last banana, drained the mug, and looked slowly around. + In his eyes was a smile of tenderness as he said: + </p> + <p> + “Well, Captain, we might as well drive as burn. Your decks are not going + to hold out forever. They are hotter this morning. You haven't a pair of + shoes I can wear? It is getting uncomfortable for my bare feet.” + </p> + <p> + The Pyrenees shipped two heavy seas as she was swung off and put once more + before it, and the first mate expressed a desire to have all that water + down in the hold, if only it could be introduced without taking off the + hatches. McCoy ducked his head into the binnacle and watched the course + set. + </p> + <p> + “I'd hold her up some more, Captain,” he said. “She's been making drift + when hove to.” + </p> + <p> + “I've set it to a point higher already,” was the answer. “Isn't that + enough?” + </p> + <p> + “I'd make it two points, Captain. This bit of a blow kicked that westerly + current ahead faster than you imagine.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport compromised on a point and a half, and then went aloft, + accompanied by McCoy and the first mate, to keep a lookout for land. Sail + had been made, so that the Pyrenees was doing ten knots. The following sea + was dying down rapidly. There was no break in the pearly fog, and by ten + o'clock Captain Davenport was growing nervous. All hands were at their + stations, ready, at the first warning of land ahead, to spring like fiends + to the task of bringing the Pyrenees up on the wind. That land ahead, a + surf-washed outer reef, would be perilously close when it revealed itself + in such a fog. + </p> + <p> + Another hour passed. The three watchers aloft stared intently into the + pearly radiance. “What if we miss Mangareva?” Captain Davenport asked + abruptly. + </p> + <p> + McCoy, without shifting his gaze, answered softly: + </p> + <p> + “Why, let her drive, captain. That is all we can do. All the Paumotus are + before us. We can drive for a thousand miles through reefs and atolls. We + are bound to fetch up somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “Then drive it is.” Captain Davenport evidenced his intention of + descending to the deck. “We've missed Mangareva. God knows where the next + land is. I wish I'd held her up that other half-point,” he confessed a + moment later. “This cursed current plays the devil with a navigator.” + </p> + <p> + “The old navigators called the Paumotus the Dangerous Archipelago,” McCoy + said, when they had regained the poop. “This very current was partly + responsible for that name.” + </p> + <p> + “I was talking with a sailor chap in Sydney, once,” said Mr. Konig. “He'd + been trading in the Paumotus. He told me insurance was eighteen per cent. + Is that right?” + </p> + <p> + McCoy smiled and nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Except that they don't insure,” he explained. “The owners write off + twenty per cent of the cost of their schooners each year.” + </p> + <p> + “My God!” Captain Davenport groaned. “That makes the life of a schooner + only five years!” He shook his head sadly, murmuring, “Bad waters! Bad + waters!” + </p> + <p> + Again they went into the cabin to consult the big general chart; but the + poisonous vapors drove them coughing and gasping on deck. + </p> + <p> + “Here is Moerenhout Island,” Captain Davenport pointed it out on the + chart, which he had spread on the house. “It can't be more than a hundred + miles to leeward.” + </p> + <p> + “A hundred and ten.” McCoy shook his head doubtfully. “It might be done, + but it is very difficult. I might beach her, and then again I might put + her on the reef. A bad place, a very bad place.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll take the chance,” was Captain Davenport's decision, as he set about + working out the course. + </p> + <p> + Sail was shortened early in the afternoon, to avoid running past in the + night; and in the second dog-watch the crew manifested its regained + cheerfulness. Land was so very near, and their troubles would be over in + the morning. + </p> + <p> + But morning broke clear, with a blazing tropic sun. The southeast trade + had swung around to the eastward, and was driving the PYRENEES through the + water at an eight-knot clip. Captain Davenport worked up his dead + reckoning, allowing generously for drift, and announced Moerenhout Island + to be not more than ten miles off. The Pyrenees sailed the ten miles; she + sailed ten miles more; and the lookouts at the three mastheads saw naught + but the naked, sun-washed sea. + </p> + <p> + “But the land is there, I tell you,” Captain Davenport shouted to them + from the poop. + </p> + <p> + McCoy smiled soothingly, but the captain glared about him like a madman, + fetched his sextant, and took a chronometer sight. + </p> + <p> + “I knew I was right,” he almost shouted, when he had worked up the + observation. “Twenty-one, fifty-five, south; one-thirty-six, two, west. + There you are. We're eight miles to windward yet. What did you make it + out, Mr. Konig?” + </p> + <p> + The first mate glanced at his own figures, and said in a low voice: + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-one, fifty-five all right; but my longitude's one-thirty-six, + forty-eight. That puts us considerably to leeward—” + </p> + <p> + But Captain Davenport ignored his figures with so contemptuous a silence + as to make Mr. Konig grit his teeth and curse savagely under his breath. + </p> + <p> + “Keep her off,” the captain ordered the man at the wheel. “Three points—steady + there, as she goes!” + </p> + <p> + Then he returned to his figures and worked them over. The sweat poured + from his face. He chewed his mustache, his lips, and his pencil, staring + at the figures as a man might at a ghost. Suddenly, with a fierce, + muscular outburst, he crumpled the scribbled paper in his fist and crushed + it under foot. Mr. Konig grinned vindictively and turned away, while + Captain Davenport leaned against the cabin and for half an hour spoke no + word, contenting himself with gazing to leeward with an expression of + musing hopelessness on his face. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. McCoy,” he broke silence abruptly. “The chart indicates a group of + islands, but not how many, off there to the north'ard, or + nor'-nor'westward, about forty miles—the Acteon Islands. What about + them?” + </p> + <p> + “There are four, all low,” McCoy answered. “First to the southeast is + Matuerui—no people, no entrance to the lagoon. Then comes Tenarunga. + There used to be about a dozen people there, but they may be all gone now. + Anyway, there is no entrance for a ship—only a boat entrance, with a + fathom of water. Vehauga and Teua-raro are the other two. No entrances, no + people, very low. There is no bed for the Pyrenees in that group. She + would be a total wreck.” + </p> + <p> + “Listen to that!” Captain Davenport was frantic. “No people! No entrances! + What in the devil are islands good for? + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” he barked suddenly, like an excited terrier, “the chart + gives a whole mess of islands off to the nor'west. What about them? What + one has an entrance where I can lay my ship?” + </p> + <p> + McCoy calmly considered. He did not refer to the chart. All these islands, + reefs, shoals, lagoons, entrances, and distances were marked on the chart + of his memory. He knew them as the city dweller knows his buildings, + streets, and alleys. + </p> + <p> + “Papakena and Vanavana are off there to the westward, or west-nor'westward + a hundred miles and a bit more,” he said. “One is uninhabited, and I heard + that the people on the other had gone off to Cadmus Island. Anyway, + neither lagoon has an entrance. Ahunui is another hundred miles on to the + nor'west. No entrance, no people.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, forty miles beyond them are two islands?” Captain Davenport + queried, raising his head from the chart. + </p> + <p> + McCoy shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Paros and Manuhungi—no entrances, no people. Nengo-Nengo is forty + miles beyond them, in turn, and it has no people and no entrance. But + there is Hao Island. It is just the place. The lagoon is thirty miles long + and five miles wide. There are plenty of people. You can usually find + water. And any ship in the world can go through the entrance.” + </p> + <p> + He ceased and gazed solicitously at Captain Davenport, who, bending over + the chart with a pair of dividers in hand, had just emitted a low groan. + </p> + <p> + “Is there any lagoon with an entrance anywhere nearer than Hao Island?” he + asked. + </p> + <p> + “No, Captain; that is the nearest.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's three hundred and forty miles.” Captain Davenport was speaking + very slowly, with decision. “I won't risk the responsibility of all these + lives. I'll wreck her on the Acteons. And she's a good ship, too,” he + added regretfully, after altering the course, this time making more + allowance than ever for the westerly current. + </p> + <p> + An hour later the sky was overcast. The southeast trade still held, but + the ocean was a checker board of squalls. + </p> + <p> + “We'll be there by one o'clock,” Captain Davenport announced confidently. + “By two o'clock at the outside. McCoy, you put her ashore on the one where + the people are.” + </p> + <p> + The sun did not appear again, nor, at one o'clock, was any land to be + seen. Captain Davenport looked astern at the Pyrenees' canting wake. + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord!” he cried. “An easterly current? Look at that!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Konig was incredulous. McCoy was noncommittal, though he said that in + the Paumotus there was no reason why it should not be an easterly current. + A few minutes later a squall robbed the Pyrenees temporarily of all her + wind, and she was left rolling heavily in the trough. + </p> + <p> + “Where's that deep lead? Over with it, you there!” Captain Davenport held + the lead line and watched it sag off to the northeast. “There, look at + that! Take hold of it for yourself.” + </p> + <p> + McCoy and the mate tried it, and felt the line thrumming and vibrating + savagely to the grip of the tidal stream. + </p> + <p> + “A four-knot current,” said Mr. Konig. + </p> + <p> + “An easterly current instead of a westerly,” said Captain “Davenport, + glaring accusingly at McCoy, as if to cast the blame for it upon him. + </p> + <p> + “That is one of the reasons, Captain, for insurance being eighteen per + cent in these waters,” McCoy answered cheerfully. “You can never tell. The + currents are always changing. There was a man who wrote books, I forget + his name, in the yacht Casco. He missed Takaroa by thirty miles and + fetched Tikei, all because of the shifting currents. You are up to + windward now, and you'd better keep off a few points.” + </p> + <p> + “But how much has this current set me?” the captain demanded irately. “How + am I to know how much to keep off?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, Captain,” McCoy said with great gentleness. + </p> + <p> + The wind returned, and the PYRENEES, her deck smoking and shimmering in + the bright gray light, ran off dead to leeward. Then she worked back, port + tack and starboard tack, crisscrossing her track, combing the sea for the + Acteon Islands, which the masthead lookouts failed to sight. + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport was beside himself. His rage took the form of sullen + silence, and he spent the afternoon in pacing the poop or leaning against + the weather shrouds. At nightfall, without even consulting McCoy, he + squared away and headed into the northwest. Mr. Konig, surreptitiously + consulting chart and binnacle, and McCoy, openly and innocently consulting + the binnacle, knew that they were running for Hao Island. By midnight the + squalls ceased, and the stars came out. Captain Davenport was cheered by + the promise of a clear day. + </p> + <p> + “I'll get an observation in the morning,” he told McCoy, “though what my + latitude is, is a puzzler. But I'll use the Sumner method, and settle + that. Do you know the Sumner line?” + </p> + <p> + And thereupon he explained it in detail to McCoy. + </p> + <p> + The day proved clear, the trade blew steadily out of the east, and the + Pyrenees just as steadily logged her nine knots. Both the captain and mate + worked out the position on a Sumner line, and agreed, and at noon agreed + again, and verified the morning sights by the noon sights. + </p> + <p> + “Another twenty-four hours and we'll be there,” Captain Davenport assured + McCoy. “It's a miracle the way the old girl's decks hold out. But they + can't last. They can't last. Look at them smoke, more and more every day. + Yet it was a tight deck to begin with, fresh-calked in Frisco. I was + surprised when the fire first broke out and we battened down. Look at + that!” + </p> + <p> + He broke off to gaze with dropped jaw at a spiral of smoke that coiled and + twisted in the lee of the mizzenmast twenty feet above the deck. + </p> + <p> + “Now, how did that get there?” he demanded indignantly. + </p> + <p> + Beneath it there was no smoke. Crawling up from the deck, sheltered from + the wind by the mast, by some freak it took form and visibility at that + height. It writhed away from the mast, and for a moment overhung the + captain like some threatening portent. The next moment the wind whisked it + away, and the captain's jaw returned to place. + </p> + <p> + “As I was saying, when we first battened down, I was surprised. It was a + tight deck, yet it leaked smoke like a sieve. And we've calked and calked + ever since. There must be tremendous pressure underneath to drive so much + smoke through.” + </p> + <p> + That afternoon the sky became overcast again, and squally, drizzly weather + set in. The wind shifted back and forth between southeast and northeast, + and at midnight the Pyrenees was caught aback by a sharp squall from the + southwest, from which point the wind continued to blow intermittently. + </p> + <p> + “We won't make Hao until ten or eleven,” Captain Davenport complained at + seven in the morning, when the fleeting promise of the sun had been erased + by hazy cloud masses in the eastern sky. And the next moment he was + plaintively demanding, “And what are the currents doing?” + </p> + <p> + Lookouts at the mastheads could report no land, and the day passed in + drizzling calms and violent squalls. By nightfall a heavy sea began to + make from the west. The barometer had fallen to 29.50. There was no wind, + and still the ominous sea continued to increase. Soon the Pyrenees was + rolling madly in the huge waves that marched in an unending procession + from out of the darkness of the west. Sail was shortened as fast as both + watches could work, and, when the tired crew had finished, its grumbling + and complaining voices, peculiarly animal-like and menacing, could be + heard in the darkness. Once the starboard watch was called aft to lash + down and make secure, and the men openly advertised their sullenness and + unwillingness. Every slow movement was a protest and a threat. The + atmosphere was moist and sticky like mucilage, and in the absence of wind + all hands seemed to pant and gasp for air. The sweat stood out on faces + and bare arms, and Captain Davenport for one, his face more gaunt and + care-worn than ever, and his eyes troubled and staring, was oppressed by a + feeling of impending calamity. + </p> + <p> + “It's off to the westward,” McCoy said encouragingly. “At worst, we'll be + only on the edge of it.” + </p> + <p> + But Captain Davenport refused to be comforted, and by the light of a + lantern read up the chapter in his Epitome that related to the strategy of + shipmasters in cyclonic storms. From somewhere amidships the silence was + broken by a low whimpering from the cabin boy. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, shut up!” Captain Davenport yelled suddenly and with such force as to + startle every man on board and to frighten the offender into a wild wail + of terror. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Konig,” the captain said in a voice that trembled with rage and + nerves, “will you kindly step for'ard and stop that brat's mouth with a + deck mop?” + </p> + <p> + But it was McCoy who went forward, and in a few minutes had the boy + comforted and asleep. + </p> + <p> + Shortly before daybreak the first breath of air began to move from out the + southeast, increasing swiftly to a stiff and stiffer breeze. All hands + were on deck waiting for what might be behind it. “We're all right now, + Captain,” said McCoy, standing close to his shoulder. “The hurricane is to + the west'ard, and we are south of it. This breeze is the in-suck. It won't + blow any harder. You can begin to put sail on her.” + </p> + <p> + “But what's the good? Where shall I sail? This is the second day without + observations, and we should have sighted Hao Island yesterday morning. + Which way does it bear, north, south, east, or what? Tell me that, and + I'll make sail in a jiffy.” + </p> + <p> + “I am no navigator, Captain,” McCoy said in his mild way. + </p> + <p> + “I used to think I was one,” was the retort, “before I got into these + Paumotus.” + </p> + <p> + At midday the cry of “Breakers ahead!” was heard from the lookout. The + Pyrenees was kept off, and sail after sail was loosed and sheeted home. + The Pyrenees was sliding through the water and fighting a current that + threatened to set her down upon the breakers. Officers and men were + working like mad, cook and cabin boy, Captain Davenport himself, and McCoy + all lending a hand. It was a close shave. It was a low shoal, a bleak and + perilous place over which the seas broke unceasingly, where no man could + live, and on which not even sea birds could rest. The PYRENEES was swept + within a hundred yards of it before the wind carried her clear, and at + this moment the panting crew, its work done, burst out in a torrent of + curses upon the head of McCoy—of McCoy who had come on board, and + proposed the run to Mangareva, and lured them all away from the safety of + Pitcairn Island to certain destruction in this baffling and terrible + stretch of sea. But McCoy's tranquil soul was undisturbed. He smiled at + them with simple and gracious benevolence, and, somehow, the exalted + goodness of him seemed to penetrate to their dark and somber souls, + shaming them, and from very shame stilling the curses vibrating in their + throats. + </p> + <p> + “Bad waters! Bad waters!” Captain Davenport was murmuring as his ship + forged clear; but he broke off abruptly to gaze at the shoal which should + have been dead astern, but which was already on the PYRENEES' + weather-quarter and working up rapidly to windward. + </p> + <p> + He sat down and buried his face in his hands. And the first mate saw, and + McCoy saw, and the crew saw, what he had seen. South of the shoal an + easterly current had set them down upon it; north of the shoal an equally + swift westerly current had clutched the ship and was sweeping her away. + </p> + <p> + “I've heard of these Paumotus before,” the captain groaned, lifting his + blanched face from his hands. “Captain Moyendale told me about them after + losing his ship on them. And I laughed at him behind his back. God forgive + me, I laughed at him. What shoal is that?” he broke off, to ask McCoy. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, Captain.” + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you know?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I never saw it before, and because I have never heard of it. I do + know that it is not charted. These waters have never been thoroughly + surveyed.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you don't know where we are?” + </p> + <p> + “No more than you do,” McCoy said gently. + </p> + <p> + At four in the afternoon cocoanut trees were sighted, apparently growing + out of the water. A little later the low land of an atoll was raised above + the sea. + </p> + <p> + “I know where we are now, Captain.” McCoy lowered the glasses from his + eyes. “That's Resolution Island. We are forty miles beyond Hao Island, and + the wind is in our teeth.” + </p> + <p> + “Get ready to beach her then. Where's the entrance?” + </p> + <p> + “There's only a canoe passage. But now that we know where we are, we can + run for Barclay de Tolley. It is only one hundred and twenty miles from + here, due nor'-nor'west. With this breeze we can be there by nine o'clock + tomorrow morning.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport consulted the chart and debated with himself. + </p> + <p> + “If we wreck her here,” McCoy added, “we'd have to make the run to Barclay + de Tolley in the boats just the same.” + </p> + <p> + The captain gave his orders, and once more the Pyrenees swung off for + another run across the inhospitable sea. + </p> + <p> + And the middle of the next afternoon saw despair and mutiny on her smoking + deck. The current had accelerated, the wind had slackened, and the + Pyrenees had sagged off to the west. The lookout sighted Barclay de Tolley + to the eastward, barely visible from the masthead, and vainly and for + hours the PYRENEES tried to beat up to it. Ever, like a mirage, the + cocoanut trees hovered on the horizon, visible only from the masthead. + From the deck they were hidden by the bulge of the world. + </p> + <p> + Again Captain Davenport consulted McCoy and the chart. Makemo lay + seventy-five miles to the southwest. Its lagoon was thirty miles long, and + its entrance was excellent. When Captain Davenport gave his orders, the + crew refused duty. They announced that they had had enough of hell fire + under their feet. There was the land. What if the ship could not make it? + They could make it in the boats. Let her burn, then. Their lives amounted + to something to them. They had served faithfully the ship, now they were + going to serve themselves. + </p> + <p> + They sprang to the boats, brushing the second and third mates out of the + way, and proceeded to swing the boats out and to prepare to lower away. + Captain Davenport and the first mate, revolvers in hand, were advancing to + the break of the poop, when McCoy, who had climbed on top of the cabin, + began to speak. + </p> + <p> + He spoke to the sailors, and at the first sound of his dovelike, cooing + voice they paused to hear. He extended to them his own ineffable serenity + and peace. His soft voice and simple thoughts flowed out to them in a + magic stream, soothing them against their wills. Long forgotten things + came back to them, and some remembered lullaby songs of childhood and the + content and rest of the mother's arm at the end of the day. There was no + more trouble, no more danger, no more irk, in all the world. Everything + was as it should be, and it was only a matter of course that they should + turn their backs upon the land and put to sea once more with hell fire hot + beneath their feet. + </p> + <p> + McCoy spoke simply; but it was not what he spoke. It was his personality + that spoke more eloquently than any word he could utter. It was an alchemy + of soul occultly subtile and profoundly deep—a mysterious emanation + of the spirit, seductive, sweetly humble, and terribly imperious. It was + illumination in the dark crypts of their souls, a compulsion of purity and + gentleness vastly greater than that which resided in the shining, + death-spitting revolvers of the officers. + </p> + <p> + The men wavered reluctantly where they stood, and those who had loosed the + turns made them fast again. Then one, and then another, and then all of + them, began to sidle awkwardly away. + </p> + <p> + McCoy's face was beaming with childlike pleasure as he descended from the + top of the cabin. There was no trouble. For that matter there had been no + trouble averted. There never had been any trouble, for there was no place + for such in the blissful world in which he lived. + </p> + <p> + “You hypnotized em,” Mr. Konig grinned at him, speaking in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “Those boys are good,” was the answer. “Their hearts are good. They have + had a hard time, and they have worked hard, and they will work hard to the + end.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Konig had not time to reply. His voice was ringing out orders, the + sailors were springing to obey, and the PYRENEES was paying slowly off + from the wind until her bow should point in the direction of Makemo. + </p> + <p> + The wind was very light, and after sundown almost ceased. It was + insufferably warm, and fore and aft men sought vainly to sleep. The deck + was too hot to lie upon, and poisonous vapors, oozing through the seams, + crept like evil spirits over the ship, stealing into the nostrils and + windpipes of the unwary and causing fits of sneezing and coughing. The + stars blinked lazily in the dim vault overhead; and the full moon, rising + in the east, touched with its light the myriads of wisps and threads and + spidery films of smoke that intertwined and writhed and twisted along the + deck, over the rails, and up the masts and shrouds. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me,” Captain Davenport said, rubbing his smarting eyes, “what + happened with that BOUNTY crowd after they reached Pitcairn? The account I + read said they burnt the Bounty, and that they were not discovered until + many years later. But what happened in the meantime? I've always been + curious to know. They were men with their necks in the rope. There were + some native men, too. And then there were women. That made it look like + trouble right from the jump.” + </p> + <p> + “There was trouble,” McCoy answered. “They were bad men. They quarreled + about the women right away. One of the mutineers, Williams, lost his wife. + All the women were Tahitian women. His wife fell from the cliffs when + hunting sea birds. Then he took the wife of one of the native men away + from him. All the native men were made very angry by this, and they killed + off nearly all the mutineers. Then the mutineers that escaped killed off + all the native men. The women helped. And the natives killed each other. + Everybody killed everybody. They were terrible men. + </p> + <p> + “Timiti was killed by two other natives while they were combing his hair + in friendship. The white men had sent them to do it. Then the white men + killed them. The wife of Tullaloo killed him in a cave because she wanted + a white man for husband. They were very wicked. God had hidden His face + from them. At the end of two years all the native men were murdered, and + all the white men except four. They were Young, John Adams, McCoy, who was + my great-grandfather, and Quintal. He was a very bad man, too. Once, just + because his wife did not catch enough fish for him, he bit off her ear.” + </p> + <p> + “They were a bad lot!” Mr. Konig exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, they were very bad,” McCoy agreed and went on serenely cooing of the + blood and lust of his iniquitous ancestry. “My great-grandfather escaped + murder in order to die by his own hand. He made a still and manufactured + alcohol from the roots of the ti-plant. Quintal was his chum, and they got + drunk together all the time. At last McCoy got delirium tremens, tied a + rock to his neck, and jumped into the sea. + </p> + <p> + “Quintal's wife, the one whose ear he bit off, also got killed by falling + from the cliffs. Then Quintal went to Young and demanded his wife, and + went to Adams and demanded his wife. Adams and Young were afraid of + Quintal. They knew he would kill them. So they killed him, the two of them + together, with a hatchet. Then Young died. And that was about all the + trouble they had.” + </p> + <p> + “I should say so,” Captain Davenport snorted. “There was nobody left to + kill.” + </p> + <p> + “You see, God had hidden His face,” McCoy said. + </p> + <p> + By morning no more than a faint air was blowing from the eastward, and, + unable to make appreciable southing by it, Captain Davenport hauled up + full-and-by on the port track. He was afraid of that terrible westerly + current which had cheated him out of so many ports of refuge. All day the + calm continued, and all night, while the sailors, on a short ration of + dried banana, were grumbling. Also, they were growing weak and complaining + of stomach pains caused by the straight banana diet. All day the current + swept the PYRENEES to the westward, while there was no wind to bear her + south. In the middle of the first dogwatch, cocoanut trees were sighted + due south, their tufted heads rising above the water and marking the + low-lying atoll beneath. + </p> + <p> + “That is Taenga Island,” McCoy said. “We need a breeze tonight, or else + we'll miss Makemo.” + </p> + <p> + “What's become of the southeast trade?” the captain demanded. “Why don't + it blow? What's the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “It is the evaporation from the big lagoons—there are so many of + them,” McCoy explained. “The evaporation upsets the whole system of + trades. It even causes the wind to back up and blow gales from the + southwest. This is the Dangerous Archipelago, Captain.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport faced the old man, opened his mouth, and was about to + curse, but paused and refrained. McCoy's presence was a rebuke to the + blasphemies that stirred in his brain and trembled in his larynx. McCoy's + influence had been growing during the many days they had been together. + Captain Davenport was an autocrat of the sea, fearing no man, never + bridling his tongue, and now he found himself unable to curse in the + presence of this old man with the feminine brown eyes and the voice of a + dove. When he realized this, Captain Davenport experienced a distinct + shock. This old man was merely the seed of McCoy, of McCoy of the BOUNTY, + the mutineer fleeing from the hemp that waited him in England, the McCoy + who was a power for evil in the early days of blood and lust and violent + death on Pitcairn Island. + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport was not religious, yet in that moment he felt a mad + impulse to cast himself at the other's feet—and to say he knew not + what. It was an emotion that so deeply stirred him, rather than a coherent + thought, and he was aware in some vague way of his own unworthiness and + smallness in the presence of this other man who possessed the simplicity + of a child and the gentleness of a woman. + </p> + <p> + Of course he could not so humble himself before the eyes of his officers + and men. And yet the anger that had prompted the blasphemy still raged in + him. He suddenly smote the cabin with his clenched hand and cried: + </p> + <p> + “Look here, old man, I won't be beaten. These Paumotus have cheated and + tricked me and made a fool of me. I refuse to be beaten. I am going to + drive this ship, and drive and drive and drive clear through the Paumotus + to China but what I find a bed for her. If every man deserts, I'll stay by + her. I'll show the Paumotus. They can't fool me. She's a good girl, and + I'll stick by her as long as there's a plank to stand on. You hear me?” + </p> + <p> + “And I'll stay with you, Captain,” McCoy said. + </p> + <p> + During the night, light, baffling airs blew out of the south, and the + frantic captain, with his cargo of fire, watched and measured his westward + drift and went off by himself at times to curse softly so that McCoy + should not hear. + </p> + <p> + Daylight showed more palms growing out of the water to the south. + </p> + <p> + “That's the leeward point of Makemo,” McCoy said. “Katiu is only a few + miles to the west. We may make that.” + </p> + <p> + But the current, sucking between the two islands, swept them to the + northwest, and at one in the afternoon they saw the palms of Katiu rise + above the sea and sink back into the sea again. + </p> + <p> + A few minutes later, just as the captain had discovered that a new current + from the northeast had gripped the Pyrenees, the masthead lookouts raised + cocoanut palms in the northwest. + </p> + <p> + “It is Raraka,” said McCoy. “We won't make it without wind. The current is + drawing us down to the southwest. But we must watch out. A few miles + farther on a current flows north and turns in a circle to the northwest. + This will sweep us away from Fakarava, and Fakarava is the place for the + Pyrenees to find her bed.” + </p> + <p> + “They can sweep all they da—all they well please,” Captain Davenport + remarked with heat. “We'll find a bed for her somewhere just the same.” + </p> + <p> + But the situation on the Pyrenees was reaching a culmination. The deck was + so hot that it seemed an increase of a few degrees would cause it to burst + into flames. In many places even the heavy-soled shoes of the men were no + protection, and they were compelled to step lively to avoid scorching + their feet. The smoke had increased and grown more acrid. Every man on + board was suffering from inflamed eyes, and they coughed and strangled + like a crew of tuberculosis patients. In the afternoon the boats were + swung out and equipped. The last several packages of dried bananas were + stored in them, as well as the instruments of the officers. Captain + Davenport even put the chronometer into the longboat, fearing the blowing + up of the deck at any moment. + </p> + <p> + All night this apprehension weighed heavily on all, and in the first + morning light, with hollow eyes and ghastly faces, they stared at one + another as if in surprise that the Pyrenees still held together and that + they still were alive. + </p> + <p> + Walking rapidly at times, and even occasionally breaking into an + undignified hop-skip-and-run, Captain Davenport inspected his ship's deck. + </p> + <p> + “It is a matter of hours now, if not of minutes,” he announced on his + return to the poop. + </p> + <p> + The cry of land came down from the masthead. From the deck the land was + invisible, and McCoy went aloft, while the captain took advantage of the + opportunity to curse some of the bitterness out of his heart. But the + cursing was suddenly stopped by a dark line on the water which he sighted + to the northeast. It was not a squall, but a regular breeze—the + disrupted trade wind, eight points out of its direction but resuming + business once more. + </p> + <p> + “Hold her up, Captain,” McCoy said as soon as he reached the poop. “That's + the easterly point of Fakarava, and we'll go in through the passage + full-tilt, the wind abeam, and every sail drawing.” + </p> + <p> + At the end of an hour, the cocoanut trees and the low-lying land were + visible from the deck. The feeling that the end of the PYRENEES' + resistance was imminent weighed heavily on everybody. Captain Davenport + had the three boats lowered and dropped short astern, a man in each to + keep them apart. The Pyrenees closely skirted the shore, the surf-whitened + atoll a bare two cable lengths away. + </p> + <p> + And a minute later the land parted, exposing a narrow passage and the + lagoon beyond, a great mirror, thirty miles in length and a third as + broad. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Captain.” + </p> + <p> + For the last time the yards of the Pyrenees swung around as she obeyed the + wheel and headed into the passage. The turns had scarcely been made, and + nothing had been coiled down, when the men and mates swept back to the + poop in panic terror. Nothing had happened, yet they averred that + something was going to happen. They could not tell why. They merely knew + that it was about to happen. McCoy started forward to take up his position + on the bow in order to con the vessel in; but the captain gripped his arm + and whirled him around. + </p> + <p> + “Do it from here,” he said. “That deck's not safe. What's the matter?” he + demanded the next instant. “We're standing still.” + </p> + <p> + McCoy smiled. + </p> + <p> + “You are bucking a seven-knot current, Captain,” he said. “That is the way + the full ebb runs out of this passage.” + </p> + <p> + At the end of another hour the Pyrenees had scarcely gained her length, + but the wind freshened and she began to forge ahead. + </p> + <p> + “Better get into the boats, some of you,” Captain Davenport commanded. + </p> + <p> + His voice was still ringing, and the men were just beginning to move in + obedience, when the amidship deck of the Pyrenees, in a mass of flame and + smoke, was flung upward into the sails and rigging, part of it remaining + there and the rest falling into the sea. The wind being abeam, was what + had saved the men crowded aft. They made a blind rush to gain the boats, + but McCoy's voice, carrying its convincing message of vast calm and + endless time, stopped them. + </p> + <p> + “Take it easy,” he was saying. “Everything is all right. Pass that boy + down somebody, please.” + </p> + <p> + The man at the wheel had forsaken it in a funk, and Captain Davenport had + leaped and caught the spokes in time to prevent the ship from yawing in + the current and going ashore. + </p> + <p> + “Better take charge of the boats,” he said to Mr. Konig. “Tow one of them + short, right under the quarter.... When I go over, it'll be on the jump.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Konig hesitated, then went over the rail and lowered himself into the + boat. + </p> + <p> + “Keep her off half a point, Captain.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport gave a start. He had thought he had the ship to himself. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ay; half a point it is,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + Amidships the Pyrenees was an open flaming furnace, out of which poured an + immense volume of smoke which rose high above the masts and completely hid + the forward part of the ship. McCoy, in the shelter of the mizzen-shrouds, + continued his difficult task of conning the ship through the intricate + channel. The fire was working aft along the deck from the seat of + explosion, while the soaring tower of canvas on the mainmast went up and + vanished in a sheet of flame. Forward, though they could not see them, + they knew that the head-sails were still drawing. + </p> + <p> + “If only she don't burn all her canvas off before she makes inside,” the + captain groaned. + </p> + <p> + “She'll make it,” McCoy assured him with supreme confidence. “There is + plenty of time. She is bound to make it. And once inside, we'll put her + before it; that will keep the smoke away from us and hold back the fire + from working aft.” + </p> + <p> + A tongue of flame sprang up the mizzen, reached hungrily for the lowest + tier of canvas, missed it, and vanished. From aloft a burning shred of + rope stuff fell square on the back of Captain Davenport's neck. He acted + with the celerity of one stung by a bee as he reached up and brushed the + offending fire from his skin. + </p> + <p> + “How is she heading, Captain?” + </p> + <p> + “Nor'west by west.” + </p> + <p> + “Keep her west-nor-west.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport put the wheel up and steadied her. + </p> + <p> + “West by north, Captain.” + </p> + <p> + “West by north she is.” + </p> + <p> + “And now west.” + </p> + <p> + Slowly, point by point, as she entered the lagoon, the PYRENEES described + the circle that put her before the wind; and point by point, with all the + calm certitude of a thousand years of time to spare, McCoy chanted the + changing course. + </p> + <p> + “Another point, Captain.” + </p> + <p> + “A point it is.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport whirled several spokes over, suddenly reversing and + coming back one to check her. + </p> + <p> + “Steady.” + </p> + <p> + “Steady she is—right on it.” + </p> + <p> + Despite the fact that the wind was now astern, the heat was so intense + that Captain Davenport was compelled to steal sidelong glances into the + binnacle, letting go the wheel now with one hand, now with the other, to + rub or shield his blistering cheeks. + </p> + <p> + McCoy's beard was crinkling and shriveling and the smell of it, strong in + the other's nostrils, compelled him to look toward McCoy with sudden + solicitude. Captain Davenport was letting go the spokes alternately with + his hands in order to rub their blistering backs against his trousers. + Every sail on the mizzenmast vanished in a rush of flame, compelling the + two men to crouch and shield their faces. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said McCoy, stealing a glance ahead at the low shore, “four points + up, Captain, and let her drive.” + </p> + <p> + Shreds and patches of burning rope and canvas were falling about them and + upon them. The tarry smoke from a smouldering piece of rope at the + captain's feet set him off into a violent coughing fit, during which he + still clung to the spokes. + </p> + <p> + The Pyrenees struck, her bow lifted and she ground ahead gently to a stop. + A shower of burning fragments, dislodged by the shock, fell about them. + The ship moved ahead again and struck a second time. She crushed the + fragile coral under her keel, drove on, and struck a third time. + </p> + <p> + “Hard over,” said McCoy. “Hard over?” he questioned gently, a minute + later. + </p> + <p> + “She won't answer,” was the reply. + </p> + <p> + “All right. She is swinging around.” McCoy peered over the side. “Soft, + white sand. Couldn't ask better. A beautiful bed.” + </p> + <p> + As the Pyrenees swung around her stern away from the wind, a fearful blast + of smoke and flame poured aft. Captain Davenport deserted the wheel in + blistering agony. He reached the painter of the boat that lay under the + quarter, then looked for McCoy, who was standing aside to let him go down. + </p> + <p> + “You first,” the captain cried, gripping him by the shoulder and almost + throwing him over the rail. But the flame and smoke were too terrible, and + he followed hard after McCoy, both men wriggling on the rope and sliding + down into the boat together. A sailor in the bow, without waiting for + orders, slashed the painter through with his sheath knife. The oars, + poised in readiness, bit into the water, and the boat shot away. + </p> + <p> + “A beautiful bed, Captain,” McCoy murmured, looking back. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, a beautiful bed, and all thanks to you,” was the answer. + </p> + <p> + The three boats pulled away for the white beach of pounded coral, beyond + which, on the edge of a cocoanut grove, could be seen a half dozen grass + houses and a score or more of excited natives, gazing wide-eyed at the + conflagration that had come to land. + </p> + <p> + The boats grounded and they stepped out on the white beach. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” said McCoy, “I must see about getting back to Pitcairn.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of South Sea Tales, by Jack London + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOUTH SEA TALES *** + +***** This file should be named 1208-h.htm or 1208-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/0/1208/ + +Produced by Theresa Armao, and David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: South Sea Tales + +Author: Jack London + +Release Date: February, 1998 [EBook #1208] +Posting Date: November 8, 2009 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOUTH SEA TALES *** + + + + +Produced by Theresa Armao + + + + + +SOUTH SEA TALES + +By Jack London + + + +CONTENTS + +The House of Mapuhi + +The Whale Tooth + +Mauki + +"Yah! Yah! Yah!" + +The Heathen + +The Terrible Solomons + +The Inevitable White Man + +The Seed of McCoy + + + + +THE HOUSE OF MAPUHI + +Despite the heavy clumsiness of her lines, the Aorai handled easily in +the light breeze, and her captain ran her well in before he hove to just +outside the suck of the surf. The atoll of Hikueru lay low on the water, +a circle of pounded coral sand a hundred yards wide, twenty miles in +circumference, and from three to five feet above high-water mark. On the +bottom of the huge and glassy lagoon was much pearl shell, and from the +deck of the schooner, across the slender ring of the atoll, the divers +could be seen at work. But the lagoon had no entrance for even a trading +schooner. With a favoring breeze cutters could win in through the +tortuous and shallow channel, but the schooners lay off and on outside +and sent in their small boats. + +The Aorai swung out a boat smartly, into which sprang half a dozen +brown-skinned sailors clad only in scarlet loincloths. They took the +oars, while in the stern sheets, at the steering sweep, stood a young +man garbed in the tropic white that marks the European. The golden +strain of Polynesia betrayed itself in the sun-gilt of his fair skin +and cast up golden sheens and lights through the glimmering blue of his +eyes. Raoul he was, Alexandre Raoul, youngest son of Marie Raoul, +the wealthy quarter-caste, who owned and managed half a dozen trading +schooners similar to the Aorai. Across an eddy just outside the +entrance, and in and through and over a boiling tide-rip, the boat +fought its way to the mirrored calm of the lagoon. Young Raoul leaped +out upon the white sand and shook hands with a tall native. The man's +chest and shoulders were magnificent, but the stump of a right arm, +beyond the flesh of which the age-whitened bone projected several +inches, attested the encounter with a shark that had put an end to his +diving days and made him a fawner and an intriguer for small favors. + +"Have you heard, Alec?" were his first words. "Mapuhi has found a +pearl--such a pearl. Never was there one like it ever fished up in +Hikueru, nor in all the Paumotus, nor in all the world. Buy it from him. +He has it now. And remember that I told you first. He is a fool and you +can get it cheap. Have you any tobacco?" + +Straight up the beach to a shack under a pandanus tree Raoul headed. +He was his mother's supercargo, and his business was to comb all the +Paumotus for the wealth of copra, shell, and pearls that they yielded +up. + +He was a young supercargo, it was his second voyage in such capacity, +and he suffered much secret worry from his lack of experience in pricing +pearls. But when Mapuhi exposed the pearl to his sight he managed to +suppress the startle it gave him, and to maintain a careless, commercial +expression on his face. For the pearl had struck him a blow. It was +large as a pigeon egg, a perfect sphere, of a whiteness that reflected +opalescent lights from all colors about it. It was alive. Never had +he seen anything like it. When Mapuhi dropped it into his hand he was +surprised by the weight of it. That showed that it was a good pearl. He +examined it closely, through a pocket magnifying glass. It was without +flaw or blemish. The purity of it seemed almost to melt into the +atmosphere out of his hand. In the shade it was softly luminous, +gleaming like a tender moon. So translucently white was it, that when +he dropped it into a glass of water he had difficulty in finding it. So +straight and swiftly had it sunk to the bottom that he knew its weight +was excellent. + +"Well, what do you want for it?" he asked, with a fine assumption of +nonchalance. + +"I want--" Mapuhi began, and behind him, framing his own dark face, the +dark faces of two women and a girl nodded concurrence in what he wanted. +Their heads were bent forward, they were animated by a suppressed +eagerness, their eyes flashed avariciously. + +"I want a house," Mapuhi went on. "It must have a roof of galvanized +iron and an octagon-drop-clock. It must be six fathoms long with a porch +all around. A big room must be in the centre, with a round table in the +middle of it and the octagon-drop-clock on the wall. There must be four +bedrooms, two on each side of the big room, and in each bedroom must be +an iron bed, two chairs, and a washstand. And back of the house must be +a kitchen, a good kitchen, with pots and pans and a stove. And you must +build the house on my island, which is Fakarava." + +"Is that all?" Raoul asked incredulously. + +"There must be a sewing machine," spoke up Tefara, Mapuhi's wife. + +"Not forgetting the octagon-drop-clock," added Nauri, Mapuhi's mother. + +"Yes, that is all," said Mapuhi. + +Young Raoul laughed. He laughed long and heartily. But while he laughed +he secretly performed problems in mental arithmetic. He had never built +a house in his life, and his notions concerning house building were +hazy. While he laughed, he calculated the cost of the voyage to Tahiti +for materials, of the materials themselves, of the voyage back again +to Fakarava, and the cost of landing the materials and of building the +house. It would come to four thousand French dollars, allowing a margin +for safety--four thousand French dollars were equivalent to twenty +thousand francs. It was impossible. How was he to know the value of such +a pearl? Twenty thousand francs was a lot of money--and of his mother's +money at that. + +"Mapuhi," he said, "you are a big fool. Set a money price." + +But Mapuhi shook his head, and the three heads behind him shook with +his. + +"I want the house," he said. "It must be six fathoms long with a porch +all around--" + +"Yes, yes," Raoul interrupted. "I know all about your house, but it +won't do. I'll give you a thousand Chili dollars." + +The four heads chorused a silent negative. + +"And a hundred Chili dollars in trade." + +"I want the house," Mapuhi began. + +"What good will the house do you?" Raoul demanded. "The first hurricane +that comes along will wash it away. You ought to know." + +"Captain Raffy says it looks like a hurricane right now." + +"Not on Fakarava," said Mapuhi. "The land is much higher there. On this +island, yes. Any hurricane can sweep Hikueru. I will have the house on +Fakarava. It must be six fathoms long with a porch all around--" + +And Raoul listened again to the tale of the house. Several hours he +spent in the endeavor to hammer the house obsession out of Mapuhi's +mind; but Mapuhi's mother and wife, and Ngakura, Mapuhi's daughter, +bolstered him in his resolve for the house. Through the open doorway, +while he listened for the twentieth time to the detailed description of +the house that was wanted, Raoul saw his schooner's second boat draw up +on the beach. The sailors rested on the oars, advertising haste to be +gone. The first mate of the Aorai sprang ashore, exchanged a word with +the one-armed native, then hurried toward Raoul. The day grew suddenly +dark, as a squall obscured the face of the sun. Across the lagoon Raoul +could see approaching the ominous line of the puff of wind. + +"Captain Raffy says you've got to get to hell outa here," was the mate's +greeting. "If there's any shell, we've got to run the risk of +picking it up later on--so he says. The barometer's dropped to +twenty-nine-seventy." + +The gust of wind struck the pandanus tree overhead and tore through the +palms beyond, flinging half a dozen ripe cocoanuts with heavy thuds to +the ground. Then came the rain out of the distance, advancing with the +roar of a gale of wind and causing the water of the lagoon to smoke in +driven windrows. The sharp rattle of the first drops was on the leaves +when Raoul sprang to his feet. + +"A thousand Chili dollars, cash down, Mapuhi," he said. "And two hundred +Chili dollars in trade." + +"I want a house--" the other began. + +"Mapuhi!" Raoul yelled, in order to make himself heard. "You are a +fool!" + +He flung out of the house, and, side by side with the mate, fought his +way down the beach toward the boat. They could not see the boat. The +tropic rain sheeted about them so that they could see only the beach +under their feet and the spiteful little waves from the lagoon that +snapped and bit at the sand. A figure appeared through the deluge. It +was Huru-Huru, the man with the one arm. + +"Did you get the pearl?" he yelled in Raoul's ear. + +"Mapuhi is a fool!" was the answering yell, and the next moment they +were lost to each other in the descending water. + +Half an hour later, Huru-Huru, watching from the seaward side of the +atoll, saw the two boats hoisted in and the Aorai pointing her nose +out to sea. And near her, just come in from the sea on the wings of the +squall, he saw another schooner hove to and dropping a boat into the +water. He knew her. It was the OROHENA, owned by Toriki, the half-caste +trader, who served as his own supercargo and who doubtlessly was even +then in the stern sheets of the boat. Huru-Huru chuckled. He knew that +Mapuhi owed Toriki for trade goods advanced the year before. + +The squall had passed. The hot sun was blazing down, and the lagoon was +once more a mirror. But the air was sticky like mucilage, and the weight +of it seemed to burden the lungs and make breathing difficult. + +"Have you heard the news, Toriki?" Huru-Huru asked. "Mapuhi has found +a pearl. Never was there a pearl like it ever fished up in Hikueru, nor +anywhere in the Paumotus, nor anywhere in all the world. Mapuhi is a +fool. Besides, he owes you money. Remember that I told you first. Have +you any tobacco?" + +And to the grass shack of Mapuhi went Toriki. He was a masterful man, +withal a fairly stupid one. Carelessly he glanced at the wonderful +pearl--glanced for a moment only; and carelessly he dropped it into his +pocket. + +"You are lucky," he said. "It is a nice pearl. I will give you credit on +the books." + +"I want a house," Mapuhi began, in consternation. "It must be six +fathoms--" + +"Six fathoms your grandmother!" was the trader's retort. "You want to +pay up your debts, that's what you want. You owed me twelve hundred +dollars Chili. Very well; you owe them no longer. The amount is squared. +Besides, I will give you credit for two hundred Chili. If, when I get +to Tahiti, the pearl sells well, I will give you credit for another +hundred--that will make three hundred. But mind, only if the pearl sells +well. I may even lose money on it." + +Mapuhi folded his arms in sorrow and sat with bowed head. He had been +robbed of his pearl. In place of the house, he had paid a debt. There +was nothing to show for the pearl. + +"You are a fool," said Tefara. + +"You are a fool," said Nauri, his mother. "Why did you let the pearl +into his hand?" + +"What was I to do?" Mapuhi protested. "I owed him the money. He knew I +had the pearl. You heard him yourself ask to see it. I had not told him. +He knew. Somebody else told him. And I owed him the money." + +"Mapuhi is a fool," mimicked Ngakura. + +She was twelve years old and did not know any better. Mapuhi relieved +his feelings by sending her reeling from a box on the ear; while Tefara +and Nauri burst into tears and continued to upbraid him after the manner +of women. + +Huru-Huru, watching on the beach, saw a third schooner that he knew +heave to outside the entrance and drop a boat. It was the Hira, well +named, for she was owned by Levy, the German Jew, the greatest pearl +buyer of them all, and, as was well known, Hira was the Tahitian god of +fishermen and thieves. + +"Have you heard the news?" Huru-Huru asked, as Levy, a fat man with +massive asymmetrical features, stepped out upon the beach. "Mapuhi has +found a pearl. There was never a pearl like it in Hikueru, in all the +Paumotus, in all the world. Mapuhi is a fool. He has sold it to Toriki +for fourteen hundred Chili--I listened outside and heard. Toriki is +likewise a fool. You can buy it from him cheap. Remember that I told you +first. Have you any tobacco?" + +"Where is Toriki?" + +"In the house of Captain Lynch, drinking absinthe. He has been there an +hour." + +And while Levy and Toriki drank absinthe and chaffered over the pearl, +Huru-Huru listened and heard the stupendous price of twenty-five +thousand francs agreed upon. + +It was at this time that both the OROHENA and the Hira, running in close +to the shore, began firing guns and signalling frantically. The three +men stepped outside in time to see the two schooners go hastily about +and head off shore, dropping mainsails and flying jibs on the run in +the teeth of the squall that heeled them far over on the whitened water. +Then the rain blotted them out. + +"They'll be back after it's over," said Toriki. "We'd better be getting +out of here." + +"I reckon the glass has fallen some more," said Captain Lynch. + +He was a white-bearded sea-captain, too old for service, who had learned +that the only way to live on comfortable terms with his asthma was on +Hikueru. He went inside to look at the barometer. + +"Great God!" they heard him exclaim, and rushed in to join him at +staring at a dial, which marked twenty-nine-twenty. + +Again they came out, this time anxiously to consult sea and sky. +The squall had cleared away, but the sky remained overcast. The two +schooners, under all sail and joined by a third, could be seen making +back. A veer in the wind induced them to slack off sheets, and five +minutes afterward a sudden veer from the opposite quarter caught all +three schooners aback, and those on shore could see the boom-tackles +being slacked away or cast off on the jump. The sound of the surf was +loud, hollow, and menacing, and a heavy swell was setting in. A terrible +sheet of lightning burst before their eyes, illuminating the dark day, +and the thunder rolled wildly about them. + +Toriki and Levy broke into a run for their boats, the latter ambling +along like a panic-stricken hippopotamus. As their two boats swept out +the entrance, they passed the boat of the Aorai coming in. In the stern +sheets, encouraging the rowers, was Raoul. Unable to shake the vision of +the pearl from his mind, he was returning to accept Mapuhi's price of a +house. + +He landed on the beach in the midst of a driving thunder squall that was +so dense that he collided with Huru-Huru before he saw him. + +"Too late," yelled Huru-Huru. "Mapuhi sold it to Toriki for fourteen +hundred Chili, and Toriki sold it to Levy for twenty-five thousand +francs. And Levy will sell it in France for a hundred thousand francs. +Have you any tobacco?" + +Raoul felt relieved. His troubles about the pearl were over. He need not +worry any more, even if he had not got the pearl. But he did not believe +Huru-Huru. Mapuhi might well have sold it for fourteen hundred Chili, +but that Levy, who knew pearls, should have paid twenty-five thousand +francs was too wide a stretch. Raoul decided to interview Captain Lynch +on the subject, but when he arrived at that ancient mariner's house, he +found him looking wide-eyed at the barometer. + +"What do you read it?" Captain Lynch asked anxiously, rubbing his +spectacles and staring again at the instrument. + +"Twenty-nine-ten," said Raoul. "I have never seen it so low before." + +"I should say not!" snorted the captain. "Fifty years boy and man on all +the seas, and I've never seen it go down to that. Listen!" + +They stood for a moment, while the surf rumbled and shook the house. +Then they went outside. The squall had passed. They could see the +Aorai lying becalmed a mile away and pitching and tossing madly in +the tremendous seas that rolled in stately procession down out of the +northeast and flung themselves furiously upon the coral shore. One of +the sailors from the boat pointed at the mouth of the passage and shook +his head. Raoul looked and saw a white anarchy of foam and surge. + +"I guess I'll stay with you tonight, Captain," he said; then turned to +the sailor and told him to haul the boat out and to find shelter for +himself and fellows. + +"Twenty-nine flat," Captain Lynch reported, coming out from another look +at the barometer, a chair in his hand. + +He sat down and stared at the spectacle of the sea. The sun came out, +increasing the sultriness of the day, while the dead calm still held. +The seas continued to increase in magnitude. + +"What makes that sea is what gets me," Raoul muttered petulantly. + +"There is no wind, yet look at it, look at that fellow there!" + +Miles in length, carrying tens of thousands of tons in weight, its +impact shook the frail atoll like an earthquake. Captain Lynch was +startled. + +"Gracious!" he bellowed, half rising from his chair, then sinking back. + +"But there is no wind," Raoul persisted. "I could understand it if there +was wind along with it." + +"You'll get the wind soon enough without worryin' for it," was the grim +reply. + +The two men sat on in silence. The sweat stood out on their skin in +myriads of tiny drops that ran together, forming blotches of moisture, +which, in turn, coalesced into rivulets that dripped to the ground. They +panted for breath, the old man's efforts being especially painful. A +sea swept up the beach, licking around the trunks of the cocoanuts and +subsiding almost at their feet. + +"Way past high water mark," Captain Lynch remarked; "and I've been here +eleven years." He looked at his watch. "It is three o'clock." + +A man and woman, at their heels a motley following of brats and curs, +trailed disconsolately by. They came to a halt beyond the house, and, +after much irresolution, sat down in the sand. A few minutes later +another family trailed in from the opposite direction, the men and women +carrying a heterogeneous assortment of possessions. And soon several +hundred persons of all ages and sexes were congregated about the +captain's dwelling. He called to one new arrival, a woman with a nursing +babe in her arms, and in answer received the information that her house +had just been swept into the lagoon. + +This was the highest spot of land in miles, and already, in many places +on either hand, the great seas were making a clean breach of the slender +ring of the atoll and surging into the lagoon. Twenty miles around +stretched the ring of the atoll, and in no place was it more than fifty +fathoms wide. It was the height of the diving season, and from all the +islands around, even as far as Tahiti, the natives had gathered. + +"There are twelve hundred men, women, and children here," said Captain +Lynch. "I wonder how many will be here tomorrow morning." + +"But why don't it blow?--that's what I want to know," Raoul demanded. + +"Don't worry, young man, don't worry; you'll get your troubles fast +enough." + +Even as Captain Lynch spoke, a great watery mass smote the atoll. + +The sea water churned about them three inches deep under the chairs. A +low wail of fear went up from the many women. The children, with clasped +hands, stared at the immense rollers and cried piteously. Chickens and +cats, wading perturbedly in the water, as by common consent, with flight +and scramble took refuge on the roof of the captain's house. A Paumotan, +with a litter of new-born puppies in a basket, climbed into a cocoanut +tree and twenty feet above the ground made the basket fast. The mother +floundered about in the water beneath, whining and yelping. + +And still the sun shone brightly and the dead calm continued. They sat +and watched the seas and the insane pitching of the Aorai. Captain Lynch +gazed at the huge mountains of water sweeping in until he could gaze +no more. He covered his face with his hands to shut out the sight; then +went into the house. + +"Twenty-eight-sixty," he said quietly when he returned. + +In his arm was a coil of small rope. He cut it into two-fathom lengths, +giving one to Raoul and, retaining one for himself, distributed the +remainder among the women with the advice to pick out a tree and climb. + +A light air began to blow out of the northeast, and the fan of it on +his cheek seemed to cheer Raoul up. He could see the Aorai trimming her +sheets and heading off shore, and he regretted that he was not on her. +She would get away at any rate, but as for the atoll--A sea breached +across, almost sweeping him off his feet, and he selected a tree. Then +he remembered the barometer and ran back to the house. He encountered +Captain Lynch on the same errand and together they went in. + +"Twenty-eight-twenty," said the old mariner. "It's going to be fair hell +around here--what was that?" + +The air seemed filled with the rush of something. The house quivered and +vibrated, and they heard the thrumming of a mighty note of sound. The +windows rattled. Two panes crashed; a draught of wind tore in, striking +them and making them stagger. The door opposite banged shut, shattering +the latch. The white door knob crumbled in fragments to the floor. +The room's walls bulged like a gas balloon in the process of sudden +inflation. Then came a new sound like the rattle of musketry, as the +spray from a sea struck the wall of the house. Captain Lynch looked +at his watch. It was four o'clock. He put on a coat of pilot cloth, +unhooked the barometer, and stowed it away in a capacious pocket. +Again a sea struck the house, with a heavy thud, and the light building +tilted, twisted, quarter around on its foundation, and sank down, its +floor at an angle of ten degrees. + +Raoul went out first. The wind caught him and whirled him away. He noted +that it had hauled around to the east. With a great effort he threw +himself on the sand, crouching and holding his own. Captain Lynch, +driven like a wisp of straw, sprawled over him. Two of the Aorai's +sailors, leaving a cocoanut tree to which they had been clinging, came +to their aid, leaning against the wind at impossible angles and fighting +and clawing every inch of the way. + +The old man's joints were stiff and he could not climb, so the sailors, +by means of short ends of rope tied together, hoisted him up the trunk, +a few feet at a time, till they could make him fast, at the top of the +tree, fifty feet from the ground. Raoul passed his length of rope +around the base of an adjacent tree and stood looking on. The wind was +frightful. He had never dreamed it could blow so hard. A sea breached +across the atoll, wetting him to the knees ere it subsided into the +lagoon. The sun had disappeared, and a lead-colored twilight settled +down. A few drops of rain, driving horizontally, struck him. The impact +was like that of leaden pellets. A splash of salt spray struck his face. +It was like the slap of a man's hand. His cheeks stung, and involuntary +tears of pain were in his smarting eyes. Several hundred natives had +taken to the trees, and he could have laughed at the bunches of human +fruit clustering in the tops. Then, being Tahitian-born, he doubled his +body at the waist, clasped the trunk of his tree with his hands, pressed +the soles of his feet against the near surface of the trunk, and began +to walk up the tree. At the top he found two women, two children, and a +man. One little girl clasped a housecat in her arms. + +From his eyrie he waved his hand to Captain Lynch, and that doughty +patriarch waved back. Raoul was appalled at the sky. It had approached +much nearer--in fact, it seemed just over his head; and it had turned +from lead to black. Many people were still on the ground grouped about +the bases of the trees and holding on. Several such clusters were +praying, and in one the Mormon missionary was exhorting. A weird sound, +rhythmical, faint as the faintest chirp of a far cricket, enduring but +for a moment, but in the moment suggesting to him vaguely the thought +of heaven and celestial music, came to his ear. He glanced about him and +saw, at the base of another tree, a large cluster of people holding on +by ropes and by one another. He could see their faces working and their +lips moving in unison. No sound came to him, but he knew that they were +singing hymns. + +Still the wind continued to blow harder. By no conscious process could +he measure it, for it had long since passed beyond all his experience of +wind; but he knew somehow, nevertheless, that it was blowing harder. Not +far away a tree was uprooted, flinging its load of human beings to +the ground. A sea washed across the strip of sand, and they were gone. +Things were happening quickly. He saw a brown shoulder and a black head +silhouetted against the churning white of the lagoon. The next +instant that, too, had vanished. Other trees were going, falling and +criss-crossing like matches. He was amazed at the power of the wind. His +own tree was swaying perilously, one woman was wailing and clutching the +little girl, who in turn still hung on to the cat. + +The man, holding the other child, touched Raoul's arm and pointed. He +looked and saw the Mormon church careering drunkenly a hundred feet +away. It had been torn from its foundations, and wind and sea were +heaving and shoving it toward the lagoon. A frightful wall of water +caught it, tilted it, and flung it against half a dozen cocoanut trees. +The bunches of human fruit fell like ripe cocoanuts. The subsiding wave +showed them on the ground, some lying motionless, others squirming and +writhing. They reminded him strangely of ants. He was not shocked. +He had risen above horror. Quite as a matter of course he noted the +succeeding wave sweep the sand clean of the human wreckage. A third +wave, more colossal than any he had yet seen, hurled the church into +the lagoon, where it floated off into the obscurity to leeward, +half-submerged, reminding him for all the world of a Noah's ark. + +He looked for Captain Lynch's house, and was surprised to find it gone. +Things certainly were happening quickly. He noticed that many of the +people in the trees that still held had descended to the ground. The +wind had yet again increased. His own tree showed that. It no longer +swayed or bent over and back. Instead, it remained practically +stationary, curved in a rigid angle from the wind and merely vibrating. +But the vibration was sickening. It was like that of a tuning-fork or +the tongue of a jew's-harp. It was the rapidity of the vibration that +made it so bad. Even though its roots held, it could not stand the +strain for long. Something would have to break. + +Ah, there was one that had gone. He had not seen it go, but there it +stood, the remnant, broken off half-way up the trunk. One did not know +what happened unless he saw it. The mere crashing of trees and wails +of human despair occupied no place in that mighty volume of sound. He +chanced to be looking in Captain Lynch's direction when it happened. He +saw the trunk of the tree, half-way up, splinter and part without +noise. The head of the tree, with three sailors of the Aorai and the old +captain sailed off over the lagoon. It did not fall to the ground, but +drove through the air like a piece of chaff. For a hundred yards he +followed its flight, when it struck the water. He strained his eyes, and +was sure that he saw Captain Lynch wave farewell. + +Raoul did not wait for anything more. He touched the native and made +signs to descend to the ground. The man was willing, but his women were +paralyzed from terror, and he elected to remain with them. Raoul passed +his rope around the tree and slid down. A rush of salt water went over +his head. He held his breath and clung desperately to the rope. The +water subsided, and in the shelter of the trunk he breathed once more. +He fastened the rope more securely, and then was put under by another +sea. One of the women slid down and joined him, the native remaining by +the other woman, the two children, and the cat. + +The supercargo had noticed how the groups clinging at the bases of the +other trees continually diminished. Now he saw the process work out +alongside him. It required all his strength to hold on, and the woman +who had joined him was growing weaker. Each time he emerged from a sea +he was surprised to find himself still there, and next, surprised to +find the woman still there. At last he emerged to find himself alone. +He looked up. The top of the tree had gone as well. At half its original +height, a splintered end vibrated. He was safe. The roots still held, +while the tree had been shorn of its windage. He began to climb up. He +was so weak that he went slowly, and sea after sea caught him before he +was above them. Then he tied himself to the trunk and stiffened his soul +to face the night and he knew not what. + +He felt very lonely in the darkness. At times it seemed to him that it +was the end of the world and that he was the last one left alive. Still +the wind increased. Hour after hour it increased. By what he calculated +was eleven o'clock, the wind had become unbelievable. It was a horrible, +monstrous thing, a screaming fury, a wall that smote and passed on but +that continued to smite and pass on--a wall without end. It seemed to +him that he had become light and ethereal; that it was he that was in +motion; that he was being driven with inconceivable velocity through +unending solidness. The wind was no longer air in motion. It had become +substantial as water or quicksilver. He had a feeling that he could +reach into it and tear it out in chunks as one might do with the meat in +the carcass of a steer; that he could seize hold of the wind and hang on +to it as a man might hang on to the face of a cliff. + +The wind strangled him. He could not face it and breathe, for it rushed +in through his mouth and nostrils, distending his lungs like bladders. +At such moments it seemed to him that his body was being packed and +swollen with solid earth. Only by pressing his lips to the trunk of the +tree could he breathe. Also, the ceaseless impact of the wind exhausted +him. Body and brain became wearied. He no longer observed, no +longer thought, and was but semiconscious. One idea constituted +his consciousness: SO THIS WAS A HURRICANE. That one idea persisted +irregularly. It was like a feeble flame that flickered occasionally. +From a state of stupor he would return to it--SO THIS WAS A HURRICANE. +Then he would go off into another stupor. + +The height of the hurricane endured from eleven at night till three in +the morning, and it was at eleven that the tree in which clung Mapuhi +and his women snapped off. Mapuhi rose to the surface of the lagoon, +still clutching his daughter Ngakura. Only a South Sea islander could +have lived in such a driving smother. The pandanus tree, to which he +attached himself, turned over and over in the froth and churn; and it +was only by holding on at times and waiting, and at other times shifting +his grips rapidly, that he was able to get his head and Ngakura's to the +surface at intervals sufficiently near together to keep the breath in +them. But the air was mostly water, what with flying spray and sheeted +rain that poured along at right angles to the perpendicular. + +It was ten miles across the lagoon to the farther ring of sand. Here, +tossing tree trunks, timbers, wrecks of cutters, and wreckage of houses, +killed nine out of ten of the miserable beings who survived the passage +of the lagoon. Half-drowned, exhausted, they were hurled into this mad +mortar of the elements and battered into formless flesh. But Mapuhi was +fortunate. His chance was the one in ten; it fell to him by the freakage +of fate. He emerged upon the sand, bleeding from a score of wounds. + +Ngakura's left arm was broken; the fingers of her right hand were +crushed; and cheek and forehead were laid open to the bone. He clutched +a tree that yet stood, and clung on, holding the girl and sobbing for +air, while the waters of the lagoon washed by knee-high and at times +waist-high. + +At three in the morning the backbone of the hurricane broke. By five no +more than a stiff breeze was blowing. And by six it was dead calm and +the sun was shining. The sea had gone down. On the yet restless edge of +the lagoon, Mapuhi saw the broken bodies of those that had failed in the +landing. Undoubtedly Tefara and Nauri were among them. He went along the +beach examining them, and came upon his wife, lying half in and half out +of the water. He sat down and wept, making harsh animal noises after the +manner of primitive grief. Then she stirred uneasily, and groaned. He +looked more closely. Not only was she alive, but she was uninjured. She +was merely sleeping. Hers also had been the one chance in ten. + +Of the twelve hundred alive the night before but three hundred remained. +The Mormon missionary and a gendarme made the census. The lagoon was +cluttered with corpses. Not a house nor a hut was standing. In the whole +atoll not two stones remained one upon another. One in fifty of the +cocoanut palms still stood, and they were wrecks, while on not one of +them remained a single nut. + +There was no fresh water. The shallow wells that caught the surface +seepage of the rain were filled with salt. Out of the lagoon a few +soaked bags of flour were recovered. The survivors cut the hearts out of +the fallen cocoanut trees and ate them. Here and there they crawled +into tiny hutches, made by hollowing out the sand and covering over with +fragments of metal roofing. The missionary made a crude still, but he +could not distill water for three hundred persons. By the end of the +second day, Raoul, taking a bath in the lagoon, discovered that his +thirst was somewhat relieved. He cried out the news, and thereupon three +hundred men, women, and children could have been seen, standing up to +their necks in the lagoon and trying to drink water in through their +skins. Their dead floated about them, or were stepped upon where they +still lay upon the bottom. On the third day the people buried their dead +and sat down to wait for the rescue steamers. + +In the meantime, Nauri, torn from her family by the hurricane, had been +swept away on an adventure of her own. Clinging to a rough plank that +wounded and bruised her and that filled her body with splinters, she +was thrown clear over the atoll and carried away to sea. Here, under the +amazing buffets of mountains of water, she lost her plank. She was an +old woman nearly sixty; but she was Paumotan-born, and she had never +been out of sight of the sea in her life. Swimming in the darkness, +strangling, suffocating, fighting for air, she was struck a heavy blow +on the shoulder by a cocoanut. On the instant her plan was formed, +and she seized the nut. In the next hour she captured seven more. Tied +together, they formed a life-buoy that preserved her life while at the +same time it threatened to pound her to a jelly. She was a fat woman, +and she bruised easily; but she had had experience of hurricanes, and +while she prayed to her shark god for protection from sharks, she waited +for the wind to break. But at three o'clock she was in such a stupor +that she did not know. Nor did she know at six o'clock when the dead +calm settled down. She was shocked into consciousness when she was +thrown upon the sand. She dug in with raw and bleeding hands and feet +and clawed against the backwash until she was beyond the reach of the +waves. + +She knew where she was. This land could be no other than the tiny islet +of Takokota. It had no lagoon. No one lived upon it. + +Hikueru was fifteen miles away. She could not see Hikueru, but she +knew that it lay to the south. The days went by, and she lived on the +cocoanuts that had kept her afloat. They supplied her with drinking +water and with food. But she did not drink all she wanted, nor eat all +she wanted. Rescue was problematical. She saw the smoke of the rescue +steamers on the horizon, but what steamer could be expected to come to +lonely, uninhabited Takokota? + +From the first she was tormented by corpses. The sea persisted in +flinging them upon her bit of sand, and she persisted, until her +strength failed, in thrusting them back into the sea where the sharks +tore at them and devoured them. When her strength failed, the bodies +festooned her beach with ghastly horror, and she withdrew from them as +far as she could, which was not far. + +By the tenth day her last cocoanut was gone, and she was shrivelling +from thirst. She dragged herself along the sand, looking for cocoanuts. +It was strange that so many bodies floated up, and no nuts. Surely, +there were more cocoanuts afloat than dead men! She gave up at last, and +lay exhausted. The end had come. Nothing remained but to wait for death. + +Coming out of a stupor, she became slowly aware that she was gazing at a +patch of sandy-red hair on the head of a corpse. The sea flung the body +toward her, then drew it back. It turned over, and she saw that it had +no face. Yet there was something familiar about that patch of +sandy-red hair. An hour passed. She did not exert herself to make the +identification. She was waiting to die, and it mattered little to her +what man that thing of horror once might have been. + +But at the end of the hour she sat up slowly and stared at the corpse. +An unusually large wave had thrown it beyond the reach of the lesser +waves. Yes, she was right; that patch of red hair could belong to but +one man in the Paumotus. It was Levy, the German Jew, the man who had +bought the pearl and carried it away on the Hira. Well, one thing was +evident: The Hira had been lost. The pearl buyer's god of fishermen and +thieves had gone back on him. + +She crawled down to the dead man. His shirt had been torn away, and she +could see the leather money belt about his waist. She held her breath +and tugged at the buckles. They gave easier than she had expected, and +she crawled hurriedly away across the sand, dragging the belt after her. +Pocket after pocket she unbuckled in the belt and found empty. Where +could he have put it? In the last pocket of all she found it, the first +and only pearl he had bought on the voyage. She crawled a few feet +farther, to escape the pestilence of the belt, and examined the pearl. +It was the one Mapuhi had found and been robbed of by Toriki. She +weighed it in her hand and rolled it back and forth caressingly. But in +it she saw no intrinsic beauty. What she did see was the house Mapuhi +and Tefara and she had builded so carefully in their minds. Each time +she looked at the pearl she saw the house in all its details, including +the octagon-drop-clock on the wall. That was something to live for. + +She tore a strip from her ahu and tied the pearl securely about her +neck. Then she went on along the beach, panting and groaning, but +resolutely seeking for cocoanuts. Quickly she found one, and, as she +glanced around, a second. She broke one, drinking its water, which was +mildewy, and eating the last particle of the meat. A little later she +found a shattered dugout. Its outrigger was gone, but she was hopeful, +and, before the day was out, she found the outrigger. Every find was an +augury. The pearl was a talisman. Late in the afternoon she saw a wooden +box floating low in the water. When she dragged it out on the beach its +contents rattled, and inside she found ten tins of salmon. She opened +one by hammering it on the canoe. When a leak was started, she drained +the tin. After that she spent several hours in extracting the salmon, +hammering and squeezing it out a morsel at a time. + +Eight days longer she waited for rescue. In the meantime she fastened +the outrigger back on the canoe, using for lashings all the cocoanut +fibre she could find, and also what remained of her ahu. The canoe was +badly cracked, and she could not make it water-tight; but a calabash +made from a cocoanut she stored on board for a bailer. She was hard put +for a paddle. With a piece of tin she sawed off all her hair close to +the scalp. Out of the hair she braided a cord; and by means of the cord +she lashed a three-foot piece of broom handle to a board from the salmon +case. + +She gnawed wedges with her teeth and with them wedged the lashing. + +On the eighteenth day, at midnight, she launched the canoe through the +surf and started back for Hikueru. She was an old woman. Hardship had +stripped her fat from her till scarcely more than bones and skin and a +few stringy muscles remained. The canoe was large and should have been +paddled by three strong men. + +But she did it alone, with a make-shift paddle. Also, the canoe leaked +badly, and one-third of her time was devoted to bailing. By clear +daylight she looked vainly for Hikueru. Astern, Takokota had sunk +beneath the sea rim. The sun blazed down on her nakedness, compelling +her body to surrender its moisture. Two tins of salmon were left, and in +the course of the day she battered holes in them and drained the liquid. +She had no time to waste in extracting the meat. A current was setting +to the westward, she made westing whether she made southing or not. + +In the early afternoon, standing upright in the canoe, she sighted +Hikueru. Its wealth of cocoanut palms was gone. Only here and there, at +wide intervals, could she see the ragged remnants of trees. The sight +cheered her. She was nearer than she had thought. The current was +setting her to the westward. She bore up against it and paddled on. The +wedges in the paddle lashing worked loose, and she lost much time, at +frequent intervals, in driving them tight. Then there was the bailing. +One hour in three she had to cease paddling in order to bail. And all +the time she drifted to the westward. + +By sunset Hikueru bore southeast from her, three miles away. There was +a full moon, and by eight o'clock the land was due east and two miles +away. She struggled on for another hour, but the land was as far away as +ever. She was in the main grip of the current; the canoe was too large; +the paddle was too inadequate; and too much of her time and strength +was wasted in bailing. Besides, she was very weak and growing weaker. +Despite her efforts, the canoe was drifting off to the westward. + +She breathed a prayer to her shark god, slipped over the side, and began +to swim. She was actually refreshed by the water, and quickly left the +canoe astern. At the end of an hour the land was perceptibly nearer. +Then came her fright. Right before her eyes, not twenty feet away, a +large fin cut the water. She swam steadily toward it, and slowly it +glided away, curving off toward the right and circling around her. She +kept her eyes on the fin and swam on. When the fin disappeared, she +lay face downward in the water and watched. When the fin reappeared she +resumed her swimming. The monster was lazy--she could see that. Without +doubt he had been well fed since the hurricane. Had he been very hungry, +she knew he would not have hesitated from making a dash for her. He was +fifteen feet long, and one bite, she knew, could cut her in half. + +But she did not have any time to waste on him. Whether she swam or not, +the current drew away from the land just the same. A half hour went +by, and the shark began to grow bolder. Seeing no harm in her he drew +closer, in narrowing circles, cocking his eyes at her impudently as +he slid past. Sooner or later, she knew well enough, he would get up +sufficient courage to dash at her. She resolved to play first. It was a +desperate act she meditated. She was an old woman, alone in the sea and +weak from starvation and hardship; and yet she, in the face of this sea +tiger, must anticipate his dash by herself dashing at him. She swam on, +waiting her chance. At last he passed languidly by, barely eight feet +away. She rushed at him suddenly, feigning that she was attacking him. +He gave a wild flirt of his tail as he fled away, and his sandpaper +hide, striking her, took off her skin from elbow to shoulder. He swam +rapidly, in a widening circle, and at last disappeared. + +In the hole in the sand, covered over by fragments of metal roofing, +Mapuhi and Tefara lay disputing. + +"If you had done as I said," charged Tefara, for the thousandth time, +"and hidden the pearl and told no one, you would have it now." + +"But Huru-Huru was with me when I opened the shell--have I not told you +so times and times and times without end?" + +"And now we shall have no house. Raoul told me today that if you had not +sold the pearl to Toriki--" + +"I did not sell it. Toriki robbed me." + +"--that if you had not sold the pearl, he would give you five thousand +French dollars, which is ten thousand Chili." + +"He has been talking to his mother," Mapuhi explained. "She has an eye +for a pearl." + +"And now the pearl is lost," Tefara complained. + +"It paid my debt with Toriki. That is twelve hundred I have made, +anyway." + +"Toriki is dead," she cried. "They have heard no word of his schooner. +She was lost along with the Aorai and the Hira. Will Toriki pay you the +three hundred credit he promised? No, because Toriki is dead. And had +you found no pearl, would you today owe Toriki the twelve hundred? No, +because Toriki is dead, and you cannot pay dead men." + +"But Levy did not pay Toriki," Mapuhi said. "He gave him a piece of +paper that was good for the money in Papeete; and now Levy is dead and +cannot pay; and Toriki is dead and the paper lost with him, and the +pearl is lost with Levy. You are right, Tefara. I have lost the pearl, +and got nothing for it. Now let us sleep." + +He held up his hand suddenly and listened. From without came a noise, +as of one who breathed heavily and with pain. A hand fumbled against the +mat that served for a door. + +"Who is there?" Mapuhi cried. + +"Nauri," came the answer. "Can you tell me where is my son, Mapuhi?" + +Tefara screamed and gripped her husband's arm. + +"A ghost!" she chattered. "A ghost!" + +Mapuhi's face was a ghastly yellow. He clung weakly to his wife. + +"Good woman," he said in faltering tones, striving to disguise his vice, +"I know your son well. He is living on the east side of the lagoon." + +From without came the sound of a sigh. Mapuhi began to feel elated. He +had fooled the ghost. + +"But where do you come from, old woman?" he asked. + +"From the sea," was the dejected answer. + +"I knew it! I knew it!" screamed Tefara, rocking to and fro. + +"Since when has Tefara bedded in a strange house?" came Nauri's voice +through the matting. + +Mapuhi looked fear and reproach at his wife. It was her voice that had +betrayed them. + +"And since when has Mapuhi, my son, denied his old mother?" the voice +went on. + +"No, no, I have not--Mapuhi has not denied you," he cried. "I am not +Mapuhi. He is on the east end of the lagoon, I tell you." + +Ngakura sat up in bed and began to cry. The matting started to shake. + +"What are you doing?" Mapuhi demanded. + +"I am coming in," said the voice of Nauri. + +One end of the matting lifted. Tefara tried to dive under the blankets, +but Mapuhi held on to her. He had to hold on to something. Together, +struggling with each other, with shivering bodies and chattering teeth, +they gazed with protruding eyes at the lifting mat. They saw Nauri, +dripping with sea water, without her ahu, creep in. They rolled over +backward from her and fought for Ngakura's blanket with which to cover +their heads. + +"You might give your old mother a drink of water," the ghost said +plaintively. + +"Give her a drink of water," Tefara commanded in a shaking voice. + +"Give her a drink of water," Mapuhi passed on the command to Ngakura. + +And together they kicked out Ngakura from under the blanket. A minute +later, peeping, Mapuhi saw the ghost drinking. When it reached out +a shaking hand and laid it on his, he felt the weight of it and was +convinced that it was no ghost. Then he emerged, dragging Tefara after +him, and in a few minutes all were listening to Nauri's tale. And when +she told of Levy, and dropped the pearl into Tefara's hand, even she was +reconciled to the reality of her mother-in-law. + +"In the morning," said Tefara, "you will sell the pearl to Raoul for +five thousand French." + +"The house?" objected Nauri. + +"He will build the house," Tefara answered. "He ways it will cost four +thousand French. Also will he give one thousand French in credit, which +is two thousand Chili." + +"And it will be six fathoms long?" Nauri queried. + +"Ay," answered Mapuhi, "six fathoms." + +"And in the middle room will be the octagon-drop-clock?" + +"Ay, and the round table as well." + +"Then give me something to eat, for I am hungry," said Nauri, +complacently. "And after that we will sleep, for I am weary. And +tomorrow we will have more talk about the house before we sell the +pearl. It will be better if we take the thousand French in cash. Money +is ever better than credit in buying goods from the traders." + + + + +THE WHALE TOOTH + +It was in the early days in Fiji, when John Starhurst arose in the +mission house at Rewa Village and announced his intention of carrying +the gospel throughout all Viti Levu. Now Viti Levu means the "Great +Land," it being the largest island in a group composed of many large +islands, to say nothing of hundreds of small ones. Here and there on +the coasts, living by most precarious tenure, was a sprinkling of +missionaries, traders, beche-de-mer fishers, and whaleship deserters. +The smoke of the hot ovens arose under their windows, and the bodies of +the slain were dragged by their doors on the way to the feasting. + +The Lotu, or the Worship, was progressing slowly, and, often, in +crablike fashion. Chiefs, who announced themselves Christians and +were welcomed into the body of the chapel, had a distressing habit of +backsliding in order to partake of the flesh of some favorite enemy. Eat +or be eaten had been the law of the land; and eat or be eaten promised +to remain the law of the land for a long time to come. There were +chiefs, such as Tanoa, Tuiveikoso, and Tuikilakila, who had literally +eaten hundreds of their fellow men. But among these gluttons Ra +Undreundre ranked highest. Ra Undreundre lived at Takiraki. He kept a +register of his gustatory exploits. A row of stones outside his house +marked the bodies he had eaten. This row was two hundred and thirty +paces long, and the stones in it numbered eight hundred and seventy-two. +Each stone represented a body. The row of stones might have been longer, +had not Ra Undreundre unfortunately received a spear in the small of his +back in a bush skirmish on Somo Somo and been served up on the table of +Naungavuli, whose mediocre string of stones numbered only forty-eight. + +The hard-worked, fever-stricken missionaries stuck doggedly to their +task, at times despairing, and looking forward for some special +manifestation, some outburst of Pentecostal fire that would bring a +glorious harvest of souls. But cannibal Fiji had remained obdurate. The +frizzle-headed man-eaters were loath to leave their fleshpots so long as +the harvest of human carcases was plentiful. Sometimes, when the harvest +was too plentiful, they imposed on the missionaries by letting the word +slip out that on such a day there would be a killing and a barbecue. +Promptly the missionaries would buy the lives of the victims with stick +tobacco, fathoms of calico, and quarts of trade beads. Natheless the +chiefs drove a handsome trade in thus disposing of their surplus live +meat. Also, they could always go out and catch more. + +It was at this juncture that John Starhurst proclaimed that he would +carry the Gospel from coast to coast of the Great Land, and that he +would begin by penetrating the mountain fastnesses of the headwaters of +the Rewa River. His words were received with consternation. + +The native teachers wept softly. His two fellow missionaries strove to +dissuade him. The King of Rewa warned him that the mountain dwellers +would surely kai-kai him--kai-kai meaning "to eat"--and that he, the +King of Rewa, having become Lotu, would be put to the necessity of going +to war with the mountain dwellers. That he could not conquer them he +was perfectly aware. That they might come down the river and sack Rewa +Village he was likewise perfectly aware. But what was he to do? If John +Starhurst persisted in going out and being eaten, there would be a war +that would cost hundreds of lives. + +Later in the day a deputation of Rewa chiefs waited upon John Starhurst. +He heard them patiently, and argued patiently with them, though he +abated not a whit from his purpose. To his fellow missionaries he +explained that he was not bent upon martyrdom; that the call had come +for him to carry the Gospel into Viti Levu, and that he was merely +obeying the Lord's wish. + +To the traders who came and objected most strenuously of all, he said: +"Your objections are valueless. They consist merely of the damage that +may be done your businesses. You are interested in making money, but +I am interested in saving souls. The heathen of this dark land must be +saved." + +John Starhurst was not a fanatic. He would have been the first man to +deny the imputation. He was eminently sane and practical. + +He was sure that his mission would result in good, and he had +private visions of igniting the Pentecostal spark in the souls of the +mountaineers and of inaugurating a revival that would sweep down out of +the mountains and across the length and breadth of the Great Land from +sea to sea and to the isles in the midst of the sea. There were no +wild lights in his mild gray eyes, but only calm resolution and an +unfaltering trust in the Higher Power that was guiding him. + +One man only he found who approved of his project, and that was Ra Vatu, +who secretly encouraged him and offered to lend him guides to the first +foothills. John Starhurst, in turn, was greatly pleased by Ra Vatu's +conduct. From an incorrigible heathen, with a heart as black as his +practices, Ra Vatu was beginning to emanate light. He even spoke of +becoming Lotu. True, three years before he had expressed a similar +intention, and would have entered the church had not John Starhurst +entered objection to his bringing his four wives along with him. Ra +Vatu had had economic and ethical objections to monogamy. Besides, the +missionary's hair-splitting objection had offended him; and, to prove +that he was a free agent and a man of honor, he had swung his huge war +club over Starhurst's head. Starhurst had escaped by rushing in under +the club and holding on to him until help arrived. But all that was now +forgiven and forgotten. Ra Vatu was coming into the church, not merely +as a converted heathen, but as a converted polygamist as well. He was +only waiting, he assured Starhurst, until his oldest wife, who was very +sick, should die. + +John Starhurst journeyed up the sluggish Rewa in one of Ra Vatu's +canoes. This canoe was to carry him for two days, when, the head of +navigation reached, it would return. Far in the distance, lifted +into the sky, could be seen the great smoky mountains that marked the +backbone of the Great Land. All day John Starhurst gazed at them with +eager yearning. + +Sometimes he prayed silently. At other times he was joined in prayer by +Narau, a native teacher, who for seven years had been Lotu, ever since +the day he had been saved from the hot oven by Dr. James Ellery Brown +at the trifling expense of one hundred sticks of tobacco, two cotton +blankets, and a large bottle of painkiller. At the last moment, after +twenty hours of solitary supplication and prayer, Narau's ears had +heard the call to go forth with John Starhurst on the mission to the +mountains. + +"Master, I will surely go with thee," he had announced. + +John Starhurst had hailed him with sober delight. Truly, the Lord was +with him thus to spur on so broken-spirited a creature as Narau. + +"I am indeed without spirit, the weakest of the Lord's vessels," Narau +explained, the first day in the canoe. + +"You should have faith, stronger faith," the missionary chided him. + +Another canoe journeyed up the Rewa that day. But it journeyed an +hour astern, and it took care not to be seen. This canoe was also the +property of Ra Vatu. In it was Erirola, Ra Vatu's first cousin and +trusted henchman; and in the small basket that never left his hand was +a whale tooth. It was a magnificent tooth, fully six inches long, +beautifully proportioned, the ivory turned yellow and purple with age. +This tooth was likewise the property of Ra Vatu; and in Fiji, when such +a tooth goes forth, things usually happen. For this is the virtue of +the whale tooth: Whoever accepts it cannot refuse the request that may +accompany it or follow it. The request may be anything from a human life +to a tribal alliance, and no Fijian is so dead to honor as to deny the +request when once the tooth has been accepted. Sometimes the request +hangs fire, or the fulfilment is delayed, with untoward consequences. + +High up the Rewa, at the village of a chief, Mongondro by name, John +Starhurst rested at the end of the second day of the journey. In the +morning, attended by Narau, he expected to start on foot for the smoky +mountains that were now green and velvety with nearness. Mongondro was +a sweet-tempered, mild-mannered little old chief, short-sighted +and afflicted with elephantiasis, and no longer inclined toward the +turbulence of war. He received the missionary with warm hospitality, +gave him food from his own table, and even discussed religious matters +with him. Mongondro was of an inquiring bent of mind, and pleased +John Starhurst greatly by asking him to account for the existence and +beginning of things. When the missionary had finished his summary of +the Creation according to Genesis, he saw that Mongondro was deeply +affected. The little old chief smoked silently for some time. Then he +took the pipe from his mouth and shook his head sadly. + +"It cannot be," he said. "I, Mongondro, in my youth, was a good workman +with the adze. Yet three months did it take me to make a canoe--a small +canoe, a very small canoe. And you say that all this land and water was +made by one man--" + +"Nay, was made by one God, the only true God," the missionary +interrupted. + +"It is the same thing," Mongondro went on, "that all the land and all +the water, the trees, the fish, and bush and mountains, the sun, the +moon, and the stars, were made in six days! No, no. I tell you that in +my youth I was an able man, yet did it require me three months for one +small canoe. It is a story to frighten children with; but no man can +believe it." + +"I am a man," the missionary said. + +"True, you are a man. But it is not given to my dark understanding to +know what you believe." + +"I tell you, I do believe that everything was made in six days." + +"So you say, so you say," the old cannibal murmured soothingly. + +It was not until after John Starhurst and Narau had gone off to bed +that Erirola crept into the chief's house, and, after diplomatic speech, +handed the whale tooth to Mongondro. + +The old chief held the tooth in his hands for a long time. It was a +beautiful tooth, and he yearned for it. Also, he divined the request +that must accompany it. "No, no; whale teeth were beautiful," and +his mouth watered for it, but he passed it back to Erirola with many +apologies. + + ***** + +In the early dawn John Starhurst was afoot, striding along the bush +trail in his big leather boots, at his heels the faithful Narau, himself +at the heels of a naked guide lent him by Mongondro to show the way to +the next village, which was reached by midday. Here a new guide showed +the way. A mile in the rear plodded Erirola, the whale tooth in the +basket slung on his shoulder. For two days more he brought up the +missionary's rear, offering the tooth to the village chiefs. But village +after village refused the tooth. It followed so quickly the missionary's +advent that they divined the request that would be made, and would have +none of it. + +They were getting deep into the mountains, and Erirola took a secret +trail, cut in ahead of the missionary, and reached the stronghold of the +Buli of Gatoka. Now the Buli was unaware of John Starhurst's imminent +arrival. Also, the tooth was beautiful--an extraordinary specimen, while +the coloring of it was of the rarest order. The tooth was presented +publicly. The Buli of Gatoka, seated on his best mat, surrounded by his +chief men, three busy fly-brushers at his back, deigned to receive from +the hand of his herald the whale tooth presented by Ra Vatu and carried +into the mountains by his cousin, Erirola. A clapping of hands went up +at the acceptance of the present, the assembled headman, heralds, and +fly-brushers crying aloud in chorus: + +"A! woi! woi! woi! A! woi! woi! woi! A tabua levu! woi! woi! A mudua, +mudua, mudua!' + +"Soon will come a man, a white man," Erirola began, after the proper +pause. "He is a missionary man, and he will come today. Ra Vatu is +pleased to desire his boots. He wishes to present them to his good +friend, Mongondro, and it is in his mind to send them with the feet +along in them, for Mongondro is an old man and his teeth are not good. +Be sure, O Buli, that the feet go along in the boots. As for the rest of +him, it may stop here." + +The delight in the whale tooth faded out of the Buli's eyes, and he +glanced about him dubiously. Yet had he already accepted the tooth. + +"A little thing like a missionary does not matter," Erirola prompted. + +"No, a little thing like a missionary does not matter," the Buli +answered, himself again. "Mongondro shall have the boots. Go, you young +men, some three or four of you, and meet the missionary on the trail. Be +sure you bring back the boots as well." + +"It is too late," said Erirola. "Listen! He comes now." + +Breaking through the thicket of brush, John Starhurst, with Narau close +on his heels, strode upon the scene. The famous boots, having filled in +wading the stream, squirted fine jets of water at every step. Starhurst +looked about him with flashing eyes. Upborne by an unwavering trust, +untouched by doubt or fear, he exulted in all he saw. He knew that +since the beginning of time he was the first white man ever to tread the +mountain stronghold of Gatoka. + +The grass houses clung to the steep mountain side or overhung the +rushing Rewa. On either side towered a mighty precipice. At the best, +three hours of sunlight penetrated that narrow gorge. No cocoanuts +nor bananas were to be seen, though dense, tropic vegetation overran +everything, dripping in airy festoons from the sheer lips of the +precipices and running riot in all the crannied ledges. At the far end +of the gorge the Rewa leaped eight hundred feet in a single span, while +the atmosphere of the rock fortress pulsed to the rhythmic thunder of +the fall. + +From the Buli's house, John Starhurst saw emerging the Buli and his +followers. + +"I bring you good tidings," was the missionary's greeting. + +"Who has sent you?" the Buli rejoined quietly. + +"God." + +"It is a new name in Viti Levu," the Buli grinned. "Of what islands, +villages, or passes may he be chief?" + +"He is the chief over all islands, all villages, all passes," John +Starhurst answered solemnly. "He is the Lord over heaven and earth, and +I am come to bring His word to you." + +"Has he sent whale teeth?" was the insolent query. + +"No, but more precious than whale teeth is the--" + +"It is the custom, between chiefs, to send whale teeth," the Buli +interrupted. + +"Your chief is either a niggard, or you are a fool, to come empty-handed +into the mountains. Behold, a more generous than you is before you." + +So saying, he showed the whale tooth he had received from Erirola. + +Narau groaned. + +"It is the whale tooth of Ra Vatu," he whispered to Starhurst. "I know +it well. Now are we undone." + +"A gracious thing," the missionary answered, passing his hand through +his long beard and adjusting his glasses. "Ra Vatu has arranged that we +should be well received." + +But Narau groaned again, and backed away from the heels he had dogged so +faithfully. + +"Ra Vatu is soon to become Lotu," Starhurst explained, "and I have come +bringing the Lotu to you." + +"I want none of your Lotu," said the Buli, proudly. "And it is in my +mind that you will be clubbed this day." + +The Buli nodded to one of his big mountaineers, who stepped forward, +swinging a club. Narau bolted into the nearest house, seeking to hide +among the woman and mats; but John Starhurst sprang in under the club +and threw his arms around his executioner's neck. From this point of +vantage he proceeded to argue. He was arguing for his life, and he knew +it; but he was neither excited nor afraid. + +"It would be an evil thing for you to kill me," he told the man. "I have +done you no wrong, nor have I done the Buli wrong." + +So well did he cling to the neck of the one man that they dared not +strike with their clubs. And he continued to cling and to dispute for +his life with those who clamored for his death. + +"I am John Starhurst," he went on calmly. "I have labored in Fiji for +three years, and I have done it for no profit. I am here among you for +good. Why should any man kill me? To kill me will not profit any man." + +The Buli stole a look at the whale tooth. He was well paid for the deed. + +The missionary was surrounded by a mass of naked savages, all struggling +to get at him. The death song, which is the song of the oven, was +raised, and his expostulations could no longer be heard. But so +cunningly did he twine and wreathe his body about his captor's that the +death blow could not be struck. Erirola smiled, and the Buli grew angry. + +"Away with you!" he cried. "A nice story to go back to the coast--a +dozen of you and one missionary, without weapons, weak as a woman, +overcoming all of you." + +"Wait, O Buli," John Starhurst called out from the thick of the scuffle, +"and I will overcome even you. For my weapons are Truth and Right, and +no man can withstand them." + +"Come to me, then," the Buli answered, "for my weapon is only a poor +miserable club, and, as you say, it cannot withstand you." + +The group separated from him, and John Starhurst stood alone, facing the +Buli, who was leaning on an enormous, knotted warclub. + +"Come to me, missionary man, and overcome me," the Buli challenged. + +"Even so will I come to you and overcome you," John Starhurst made +answer, first wiping his spectacles and settling them properly, then +beginning his advance. + +The Buli raised the club and waited. + +"In the first place, my death will profit you nothing," began the +argument. + +"I leave the answer to my club," was the Buli's reply. + +And to every point he made the same reply, at the same time watching the +missionary closely in order to forestall that cunning run-in under the +lifted club. Then, and for the first time, John Starhurst knew that his +death was at hand. He made no attempt to run in. Bareheaded, he stood in +the sun and prayed aloud--the mysterious figure of the inevitable white +man, who, with Bible, bullet, or rum bottle, has confronted the amazed +savage in his every stronghold. Even so stood John Starhurst in the rock +fortress of the Buli of Gatoka. + +"Forgive them, for they know not what they do," he prayed. "O Lord! Have +mercy upon Fiji. Have compassion for Fiji. O Jehovah, hear us for His +sake, Thy Son, whom Thou didst give that through Him all men might also +become Thy children. From Thee we came, and our mind is that to Thee +we may return. The land is dark, O Lord, the land is dark. But Thou art +mighty to save. Reach out Thy hand, O Lord, and save Fiji, poor cannibal +Fiji." + +The Buli grew impatient. + +"Now will I answer thee," he muttered, at the same time swinging his +club with both hands. + +Narau, hiding among the women and the mats, heard the impact of the +blow and shuddered. Then the death song arose, and he knew his beloved +missionary's body was being dragged to the oven as he heard the words: + +"Drag me gently. Drag me gently." + +"For I am the champion of my land." + +"Give thanks! Give thanks! Give thanks!" + +Next, a single voice arose out of the din, asking: + +"Where is the brave man?" + +A hundred voices bellowed the answer: + +"Gone to be dragged into the oven and cooked." + +"Where is the coward?" the single voice demanded. + +"Gone to report!" the hundred voices bellowed back. "Gone to report! +Gone to report!" + +Narau groaned in anguish of spirit. The words of the old song were true. +He was the coward, and nothing remained to him but to go and report. + + + + +MAUKI + +He weighed one hundred and ten pounds. His hair was kinky and negroid, +and he was black. He was peculiarly black. He was neither blue-black nor +purple-black, but plum-black. His name was Mauki, and he was the son +of a chief. He had three tambos. Tambo is Melanesian for taboo, and +is first cousin to that Polynesian word. Mauki's three tambos were +as follows: First, he must never shake hands with a woman, nor have a +woman's hand touch him or any of his personal belongings; secondly, he +must never eat clams nor any food from a fire in which clams had been +cooked; thirdly, he must never touch a crocodile, nor travel in a canoe +that carried any part of a crocodile even if as large as a tooth. + +Of a different black were his teeth, which were deep black, or, perhaps +better, LAMP-black. They had been made so in a single night, by his +mother, who had compressed about them a powdered mineral which was +dug from the landslide back of Port Adams. Port Adams is a salt-water +village on Malaita, and Malaita is the most savage island in the +Solomons--so savage that no traders or planters have yet gained a +foothold on it; while, from the time of the earliest beche-de-mer +fishers and sandalwood traders down to the latest labor recruiters +equipped with automatic rifles and gasolene engines, scores of white +adventurers have been passed out by tomahawks and soft-nosed Snider +bullets. So Malaita remains today, in the twentieth century, the +stamping ground of the labor recruiters, who farm its coasts for +laborers who engage and contract themselves to toil on the plantations +of the neighboring and more civilized islands for a wage of thirty +dollars a year. The natives of those neighboring and more civilized +islands have themselves become too civilized to work on plantations. + +Mauki's ears were pierced, not in one place, nor two places, but in a +couple of dozen places. In one of the smaller holes he carried a clay +pipe. The larger holes were too large for such use. The bowl of the pipe +would have fallen through. In fact, in the largest hole in each ear +he habitually wore round wooden plugs that were an even four inches in +diameter. Roughly speaking, the circumference of said holes was twelve +and one-half inches. Mauki was catholic in his tastes. In the various +smaller holes he carried such things as empty rifle cartridges, +horseshoe nails, copper screws, pieces of string, braids of sennit, +strips of green leaf, and, in the cool of the day, scarlet hibiscus +flowers. From which it will be seen that pockets were not necessary to +his well-being. Besides, pockets were impossible, for his only wearing +apparel consisted of a piece of calico several inches wide. A pocket +knife he wore in his hair, the blade snapped down on a kinky lock. His +most prized possession was the handle of a china cup, which he suspended +from a ring of turtle-shell, which, in turn, was passed through the +partition-cartilage of his nose. + +But in spite of embellishments, Mauki had a nice face. It was really +a pretty face, viewed by any standard, and for a Melanesian it was a +remarkably good-looking face. Its one fault was its lack of strength. It +was softly effeminate, almost girlish. The features were small, regular, +and delicate. The chin was weak, and the mouth was weak. There was no +strength nor character in the jaws, forehead, and nose. In the eyes only +could be caught any hint of the unknown quantities that were so large a +part of his make-up and that other persons could not understand. These +unknown quantities were pluck, pertinacity, fearlessness, imagination, +and cunning; and when they found expression in some consistent and +striking action, those about him were astounded. + +Mauki's father was chief over the village at Port Adams, and thus, by +birth a salt-water man, Mauki was half amphibian. He knew the way of the +fishes and oysters, and the reef was an open book to him. Canoes, also, +he knew. He learned to swim when he was a year old. At seven years he +could hold his breath a full minute and swim straight down to bottom +through thirty feet of water. And at seven years he was stolen by +the bushmen, who cannot even swim and who are afraid of salt water. +Thereafter Mauki saw the sea only from a distance, through rifts in the +jungle and from open spaces on the high mountain sides. He became the +slave of old Fanfoa, head chief over a score of scattered bush-villages +on the range-lips of Malaita, the smoke of which, on calm mornings, +is about the only evidence the seafaring white men have of the teeming +interior population. For the whites do not penetrate Malaita. They tried +it once, in the days when the search was on for gold, but they always +left their heads behind to grin from the smoky rafters of the bushmen's +huts. + +When Mauki was a young man of seventeen, Fanfoa got out of tobacco. He +got dreadfully out of tobacco. It was hard times in all his villages. +He had been guilty of a mistake. Suo was a harbor so small that a large +schooner could not swing at anchor in it. It was surrounded by mangroves +that overhung the deep water. It was a trap, and into the trap sailed +two white men in a small ketch. They were after recruits, and they +possessed much tobacco and trade goods, to say nothing of three rifles +and plenty of ammunition. Now there were no salt-water men living at +Suo, and it was there that the bushmen could come down to the sea. The +ketch did a splendid traffic. It signed on twenty recruits the first +day. Even old Fanfoa signed on. And that same day the score of new +recruits chopped off the two white men's head, killed the boat's crew, +and burned the ketch. Thereafter, and for three months, there was +tobacco and trade goods in plenty and to spare in all the bush villages. +Then came the man-of-war that threw shells for miles into the hills, +frightening the people out of their villages and into the deeper bush. +Next the man-of-war sent landing parties ashore. The villages were all +burned, along with the tobacco and trade stuff. + +The cocoanuts and bananas were chopped down, the taro gardens uprooted, +and the pigs and chickens killed. + +It taught Fanfoa a lesson, but in the meantime he was out of tobacco. +Also, his young men were too frightened to sign on with the recruiting +vessels. That was why Fanfoa ordered his slave, Mauki, to be carried +down and signed on for half a case of tobacco advance, along with +knives, axes, calico, and beads, which he would pay for with his toil +on the plantations. Mauki was sorely frightened when they brought him on +board the schooner. He was a lamb led to the slaughter. White men were +ferocious creatures. They had to be, or else they would not make a +practice of venturing along the Malaita coast and into all harbors, two +on a schooner, when each schooner carried from fifteen to twenty blacks +as boat's crew, and often as high as sixty or seventy black recruits. In +addition to this, there was always the danger of the shore population, +the sudden attack and the cutting off of the schooner and all hands. +Truly, white men must be terrible. Besides, they were possessed of such +devil-devils--rifles that shot very rapidly many times, things of iron +and brass that made the schooners go when there was no wind, and boxes +that talked and laughed just as men talked and laughed. + +Ay, and he had heard of one white man whose particular devil-devil was +so powerful that he could take out all his teeth and put them back at +will. + +Down into the cabin they took Mauki. On deck, the one white man kept +guard with two revolvers in his belt. In the cabin the other white man +sat with a book before him, in which he inscribed strange marks and +lines. He looked at Mauki as though he had been a pig or a fowl, glanced +under the hollows of his arms, and wrote in the book. Then he held out +the writing stick and Mauki just barely touched it with his hand, in so +doing pledging himself to toil for three years on the plantations of the +Moongleam Soap Company. It was not explained to him that the will of +the ferocious white men would be used to enforce the pledge, and that, +behind all, for the same use, was all the power and all the warships of +Great Britain. + +Other blacks there were on board, from unheard-of far places, and when +the white man spoke to them, they tore the long feather from Mauki's +hair, cut that same hair short, and wrapped about his waist a lava-lava +of bright yellow calico. + +After many days on the schooner, and after beholding more land and +islands than he had ever dreamed of, he was landed on New Georgia, and +put to work in the field clearing jungle and cutting cane grass. For the +first time he knew what work was. Even as a slave to Fanfoa he had not +worked like this. And he did not like work. It was up at dawn and in at +dark, on two meals a day. And the food was tiresome. For weeks at a time +they were given nothing but sweet potatoes to eat, and for weeks at +a time it would be nothing but rice. He cut out the cocoanut from the +shells day after day; and for long days and weeks he fed the fires +that smoked the copra, till his eyes got sore and he was set to +felling trees. He was a good axe-man, and later he was put in the +bridge-building gang. Once, he was punished by being put in the +road-building gang. At times he served as boat's crew in the whale +boats, when they brought in copra from distant beaches or when the white +men went out to dynamite fish. + +Among other things he learned beche-de-mer English, with which he could +talk with all white men, and with all recruits who otherwise would have +talked in a thousand different dialects. Also, he learned certain things +about the white men, principally that they kept their word. If they told +a boy he was going to receive a stick of tobacco, he got it. If they +told a boy they would knock seven bells out of him if he did a certain +thing, when he did that thing, seven bells invariably were knocked out +of him. Mauki did not know what seven bells were, but they occurred +in beche-de-mer, and he imagined them to be the blood and teeth that +sometimes accompanied the process of knocking out seven bells. One other +thing he learned: no boy was struck or punished unless he did wrong. +Even when the white men were drunk, as they were frequently, they never +struck unless a rule had been broken. + +Mauki did not like the plantation. He hated work, and he was the son +of a chief. Furthermore, it was ten years since he had been stolen from +Port Adams by Fanfoa, and he was homesick. He was even homesick for the +slavery under Fanfoa. So he ran away. He struck back into the bush, with +the idea of working southward to the beach and stealing a canoe in which +to go home to Port Adams. + +But the fever got him, and he was captured and brought back more dead +than alive. + +A second time he ran away, in the company of two Malaita boys. They got +down the coast twenty miles, and were hidden in the hut of a Malaita +freeman, who dwelt in that village. But in the dead of night two white +men came, who were not afraid of all the village people and who knocked +seven bells out of the three runaways, tied them like pigs, and +tossed them into the whale boat. But the man in whose house they had +hidden--seven times seven bells must have been knocked out of him from +the way the hair, skin, and teeth flew, and he was discouraged for the +rest of his natural life from harboring runaway laborers. + +For a year Mauki toiled on. Then he was made a house-boy, and had good +food and easy times, with light work in keeping the house clean and +serving the white men with whiskey and beer at all hours of the day and +most hours of the night. He liked it, but he liked Port Adams more. He +had two years longer to serve, but two years were too long for him in +the throes of homesickness. He had grown wiser with his year of service, +and, being now a house-boy, he had opportunity. He had the cleaning of +the rifles, and he knew where the key to the store room was hung. He +planned to escape, and one night ten Malaita boys and one boy from San +Cristoval sneaked from the barracks and dragged one of the whale boats +down to the beach. It was Mauki who supplied the key that opened the +padlock on the boat, and it was Mauki who equipped the boat with a dozen +Winchesters, an immense amount of ammunition, a case of dynamite with +detonators and fuse, and ten cases of tobacco. + +The northwest monsoon was blowing, and they fled south in the night +time, hiding by day on detached and uninhabited islets, or dragging +their whale boat into the bush on the large islands. Thus they gained +Guadalcanar, skirted halfway along it, and crossed the Indispensable +Straits to Florida Island. It was here that they killed the San +Cristoval boy, saving his head and cooking and eating the rest of him. +The Malaita coast was only twenty miles away, but the last night a +strong current and baffling winds prevented them from gaining across. +Daylight found them still several miles from their goal. But daylight +brought a cutter, in which were two white men, who were not afraid of +eleven Malaita men armed with twelve rifles. Mauki and his companions +were carried back to Tulagi, where lived the great white master of all +the white men. And the great white master held a court, after which, +one by one, the runaways were tied up and given twenty lashes each, +and sentenced to a fine of fifteen dollars. They were sent back to New +Georgia, where the white men knocked seven bells out of them all around +and put them to work. But Mauki was no longer house-boy. He was put in +the road-making gang. The fine of fifteen dollars had been paid by the +white men from whom he had run away, and he was told that he would have +to work it out, which meant six months' additional toil. Further, his +share of the stolen tobacco earned him another year of toil. + +Port Adams was now three years and a half away, so he stole a canoe one +night, hid on the islets in Manning Straits, passed through the +Straits, and began working along the eastern coast of Ysabel, only to +be captured, two-thirds of the way along, by the white men on Meringe +Lagoon. After a week, he escaped from them and took to the bush. There +were no bush natives on Ysabel, only salt-water men, who were all +Christians. The white men put up a reward of five-hundred sticks of +tobacco, and every time Mauki ventured down to the sea to steal a canoe +he was chased by the salt-water men. Four months of this passed, when, +the reward having been raised to a thousand sticks, he was caught and +sent back to New Georgia and the road-building gang. Now a thousand +sticks are worth fifty dollars, and Mauki had to pay the reward himself, +which required a year and eight months' labor. So Port Adams was now +five years away. + +His homesickness was greater than ever, and it did not appeal to him to +settle down and be good, work out his four years, and go home. The +next time, he was caught in the very act of running away. His case was +brought before Mr. Haveby, the island manager of the Moongleam Soap +Company, who adjudged him an incorrigible. The Company had plantations +on the Santa Cruz Islands, hundreds of miles across the sea, and there +it sent its Solomon Islands' incorrigibles. And there Mauki was sent, +though he never arrived. The schooner stopped at Santa Anna, and in the +night Mauki swam ashore, where he stole two rifles and a case of tobacco +from the trader and got away in a canoe to Cristoval. Malaita was now to +the north, fifty or sixty miles away. But when he attempted the passage, +he was caught by a light gale and driven back to Santa Anna, where +the trader clapped him in irons and held him against the return of the +schooner from Santa Cruz. The two rifles the trader recovered, but the +case of tobacco was charged up to Mauki at the rate of another year. The +sum of years he now owed the Company was six. + +On the way back to New Georgia, the schooner dropped anchor in Marau +Sound, which lies at the southeastern extremity of Guadalcanar. Mauki +swam ashore with handcuffs on his wrists and got away to the bush. The +schooner went on, but the Moongleam trader ashore offered a thousand +sticks, and to him Mauki was brought by the bushmen with a year and +eight months tacked on to his account. Again, and before the schooner +called in, he got away, this time in a whale boat accompanied by a case +of the trader's tobacco. But a northwest gale wrecked him upon Ugi, +where the Christian natives stole his tobacco and turned him over to the +Moongleam trader who resided there. The tobacco the natives stole meant +another year for him, and the tale was now eight years and a half. + +"We'll send him to Lord Howe," said Mr. Haveby. "Bunster is there, and +we'll let them settle it between them. It will be a case, I imagine, of +Mauki getting Bunster, or Bunster getting Mauki, and good riddance in +either event." + +If one leaves Meringe Lagoon, on Ysabel, and steers a course due north, +magnetic, at the end of one hundred and fifty miles he will lift the +pounded coral beaches of Lord Howe above the sea. Lord Howe is a ring of +land some one hundred and fifty miles in circumference, several hundred +yards wide at its widest, and towering in places to a height of ten feet +above sea level. Inside this ring of sand is a mighty lagoon studded +with coral patches. Lord Howe belongs to the Solomons neither +geographically nor ethnologically. It is an atoll, while the Solomons +are high islands; and its people and language are Polynesian, while the +inhabitants of the Solomons are Melanesian. + +Lord Howe has been populated by the westward Polynesian drift which +continues to this day, big outrigger canoes being washed upon its +beaches by the southeast trade. That there has been a slight Melanesian +drift in the period of the northwest monsoon, is also evident. + +Nobody ever comes to Lord Howe, or Ontong-Java as it is sometimes +called. Thomas Cook & Son do not sell tickets to it, and tourists do not +dream of its existence. Not even a white missionary has landed on its +shore. Its five thousand natives are as peaceable as they are primitive. +Yet they were not always peaceable. The Sailing Directions speak of +them as hostile and treacherous. But the men who compile the Sailing +Directions have never heard of the change that was worked in the hearts +of the inhabitants, who, not many years ago, cut off a big bark and +killed all hands with the exception of the second mate. The survivor +carried the news to his brothers. The captains of three trading +schooners returned with him to Lord Howe. They sailed their vessels +right into the lagoon and proceeded to preach the white man's gospel +that only white men shall kill white men and that the lesser breeds must +keep hands off. The schooners sailed up and down the lagoon, harrying +and destroying. There was no escape from the narrow sand-circle, no +bush to which to flee. The men were shot down at sight, and there was +no avoiding being sighted. The villages were burned, the canoes smashed, +the chickens and pigs killed, and the precious cocoanut trees chopped +down. For a month this continued, when the schooner sailed away; but the +fear of the white man had been seared into the souls of the islanders +and never again were they rash enough to harm one. + +Max Bunster was the one white man on Lord Howe, trading in the pay of +the ubiquitous Moongleam Soap Company. And the Company billeted him +on Lord Howe, because, next to getting rid of him, it was the most +out-of-the-way place to be found. That the Company did not get rid of +him was due to the difficulty of finding another man to take his place. +He was a strapping big German, with something wrong in his brain. +Semi-madness would be a charitable statement of his condition. He was +a bully and a coward, and a thrice-bigger savage than any savage on the +island. + +Being a coward, his brutality was of the cowardly order. When he +first went into the Company's employ, he was stationed on Savo. When a +consumptive colonial was sent to take his place, he beat him up with his +fists and sent him off a wreck in the schooner that brought him. + +Mr. Haveby next selected a young Yorkshire giant to relieve Bunster. The +Yorkshire man had a reputation as a bruiser and preferred fighting to +eating. But Bunster wouldn't fight. He was a regular little lamb--for +ten days, at the end of which time the Yorkshire man was prostrated by a +combined attack of dysentery and fever. Then Bunster went for him, among +other things getting him down and jumping on him a score or so of times. +Afraid of what would happen when his victim recovered. Bunster fled away +in a cutter to Guvutu, where he signalized himself by beating up a young +Englishman already crippled by a Boer bullet through both hips. + +Then it was that Mr. Haveby sent Bunster to Lord Howe, the falling-off +place. He celebrated his landing by mopping up half a case of gin and by +thrashing the elderly and wheezy mate of the schooner which had brought +him. When the schooner departed, he called the kanakas down to the beach +and challenged them to throw him in a wrestling bout, promising a case +of tobacco to the one who succeeded. Three kanakas he threw, but was +promptly thrown by a fourth, who, instead of receiving the tobacco, got +a bullet through his lungs. + +And so began Bunster's reign on Lord Howe. Three thousand people lived +in the principal village; but it was deserted, even in broad day, when +he passed through. Men, women, and children fled before him. Even the +dogs and pigs got out of the way, while the king was not above hiding +under a mat. The two prime ministers lived in terror of Bunster, who +never discussed any moot subject, but struck out with his fists instead. + +And to Lord Howe came Mauki, to toil for Bunster for eight long years +and a half. There was no escaping from Lord Howe. For better or worse, +Bunster and he were tied together. Bunster weighed two hundred pounds. +Mauki weighed one hundred and ten. Bunster was a degenerate brute. But +Mauki was a primitive savage. While both had wills and ways of their +own. + +Mauki had no idea of the sort of master he was to work for. He had had +no warnings, and he had concluded as a matter of course that Bunster +would be like other white men, a drinker of much whiskey, a ruler and a +lawgiver who always kept his word and who never struck a boy undeserved. +Bunster had the advantage. He knew all about Mauki, and gloated over the +coming into possession of him. The last cook was suffering from a broken +arm and a dislocated shoulder, so Bunster made Mauki cook and general +house-boy. + +And Mauki soon learned that there were white men and white men. On the +very day the schooner departed he was ordered to buy a chicken from +Samisee, the native Tongan missionary. But Samisee had sailed across +the lagoon and would not be back for three days. Mauki returned with +the information. He climbed the steep stairway (the house stood on piles +twelve feet above the sand), and entered the living room to report. +The trader demanded the chicken. Mauki opened his mouth to explain the +missionary's absence. But Bunster did not care for explanations. He +struck out with his fist. The blow caught Mauki on the mouth and lifted +him into the air. Clear through the doorway he flew, across the narrow +veranda, breaking the top railing, and down to the ground. + +His lips were a contused, shapeless mass, and his mouth was full of +blood and broken teeth. + +"That'll teach you that back talk don't go with me," the trader shouted, +purple with rage, peering down at him over the broken railing. + +Mauki had never met a white man like this, and he resolved to walk small +and never offend. He saw the boat boys knocked about, and one of +them put in irons for three days with nothing to eat for the crime of +breaking a rowlock while pulling. Then, too, he heard the gossip of the +village and learned why Bunster had taken a third wife--by force, as was +well known. The first and second wives lay in the graveyard, under the +white coral sand, with slabs of coral rock at head and feet. They had +died, it was said, from beatings he had given them. The third wife was +certainly ill-used, as Mauki could see for himself. + +But there was no way by which to avoid offending the white man who +seemed offended with life. When Mauki kept silent, he was struck and +called a sullen brute. When he spoke, he was struck for giving back +talk. When he was grave, Bunster accused him of plotting and gave him a +thrashing in advance; and when he strove to be cheerful and to smile, +he was charged with sneering at his lord and master and given a taste of +stick. Bunster was a devil. + +The village would have done for him, had it not remembered the lesson +of the three schooners. It might have done for him anyway, if there had +been a bush to which to flee. As it was, the murder of the white men, +of any white man, would bring a man-of-war that would kill the offenders +and chop down the precious cocoanut trees. Then there were the boat +boys, with minds fully made up to drown him by accident at the first +opportunity to capsize the cutter. Only Bunster saw to it that the boat +did not capsize. + +Mauki was of a different breed, and escape being impossible while +Bunster lived, he was resolved to get the white man. The trouble was +that he could never find a chance. Bunster was always on guard. Day +and night his revolvers were ready to hand. He permitted nobody to pass +behind his back, as Mauki learned after having been knocked down several +times. Bunster knew that he had more to fear from the good-natured, even +sweet-faced, Malaita boy than from the entire population of Lord Howe; +and it gave added zest to the programme of torment he was carrying out. +And Mauki walked small, accepted his punishments, and waited. + +All other white men had respected his tambos, but not so Bunster. + +Mauki's weekly allowance of tobacco was two sticks. Bunster passed them +to his woman and ordered Mauki to receive them from her hand. But this +could not be, and Mauki went without his tobacco. In the same way he was +made to miss many a meal, and to go hungry many a day. He was ordered to +make chowder out of the big clams that grew in the lagoon. This he could +not do, for clams were tambo. Six times in succession he refused to +touch the clams, and six times he was knocked senseless. Bunster knew +that the boy would die first, but called his refusal mutiny, and would +have killed him had there been another cook to take his place. + +One of the trader's favorite tricks was to catch Mauki's kinky locks and +bat his head against the wall. Another trick was to catch Mauki unawares +and thrust the live end of a cigar against his flesh. This Bunster +called vaccination, and Mauki was vaccinated a number of times a week. +Once, in a rage, Bunster ripped the cup handle from Mauki's nose, +tearing the hole clear out of the cartilage. + +"Oh, what a mug!" was his comment, when he surveyed the damage he had +wrought. + +The skin of a shark is like sandpaper, but the skin of a ray fish is +like a rasp. In the South Seas the natives use it as a wood file in +smoothing down canoes and paddles. Bunster had a mitten made of ray fish +skin. The first time he tried it on Mauki, with one sweep of the hand +it fetched the skin off his back from neck to armpit. Bunster was +delighted. He gave his wife a taste of the mitten, and tried it out +thoroughly on the boat boys. The prime ministers came in for a stroke +each, and they had to grin and take it for a joke. + +"Laugh, damn you, laugh!" was the cue he gave. + +Mauki came in for the largest share of the mitten. Never a day passed +without a caress from it. There were times when the loss of so much +cuticle kept him awake at night, and often the half-healed surface +was raked raw afresh by the facetious Mr. Bunster. Mauki continued his +patient wait, secure in the knowledge that sooner or later his time +would come. And he knew just what he was going to do, down to the +smallest detail, when the time did come. + +One morning Bunster got up in a mood for knocking seven bells out of +the universe. He began on Mauki, and wound up on Mauki, in the interval +knocking down his wife and hammering all the boat boys. At breakfast he +called the coffee slops and threw the scalding contents of the cup into +Mauki's face. By ten o'clock Bunster was shivering with ague, and half +an hour later he was burning with fever. It was no ordinary attack. It +quickly became pernicious, and developed into black-water fever. The +days passed, and he grew weaker and weaker, never leaving his bed. Mauki +waited and watched, the while his skin grew intact once more. He ordered +the boys to beach the cutter, scrub her bottom, and give her a general +overhauling. They thought the order emanated from Bunster, and they +obeyed. But Bunster at the time was lying unconscious and giving no +orders. This was Mauki's chance, but still he waited. + +When the worst was past, and Bunster lay convalescent and conscious, but +weak as a baby, Mauki packed his few trinkets, including the china +cup handle, into his trade box. Then he went over to the village and +interviewed the king and his two prime ministers. + +"This fella Bunster, him good fella you like too much?" he asked. + +They explained in one voice that they liked the trader not at all. The +ministers poured forth a recital of all the indignities and wrongs +that had been heaped upon them. The king broke down and wept. Mauki +interrupted rudely. + +"You savve me--me big fella marster my country. You no like 'm this +fella white marster. Me no like 'm. Plenty good you put hundred +cocoanut, two hundred cocoanut, three hundred cocoanut along cutter. +Him finish, you go sleep 'm good fella. Altogether kanaka sleep m good +fella. Bime by big fella noise along house, you no savve hear 'm that +fella noise. You altogether sleep strong fella too much." + +In like manner Mauki interviewed the boat boys. Then he ordered +Bunster's wife to return to her family house. Had she refused, he would +have been in a quandary, for his tambo would not have permitted him to +lay hands on her. + +The house deserted, he entered the sleeping room, where the trader lay +in a doze. Mauki first removed the revolvers, then placed the ray fish +mitten on his hand. Bunster's first warning was a stroke of the mitten +that removed the skin the full length of his nose. + +"Good fella, eh?" Mauki grinned, between two strokes, one of which swept +the forehead bare and the other of which cleaned off one side of his +face. "Laugh, damn you, laugh." + +Mauki did his work throughly, and the kanakas, hiding in their houses, +heard the "big fella noise" that Bunster made and continued to make for +an hour or more. + +When Mauki was done, he carried the boat compass and all the rifles and +ammunition down to the cutter, which he proceeded to ballast with cases +of tobacco. It was while engaged in this that a hideous, skinless thing +came out of the house and ran screaming down the beach till it fell in +the sand and mowed and gibbered under the scorching sun. Mauki looked +toward it and hesitated. Then he went over and removed the head, which +he wrapped in a mat and stowed in the stern locker of the cutter. + +So soundly did the kanakas sleep through that long hot day that they +did not see the cutter run out through the passage and head south, +close-hauled on the southeast trade. Nor was the cutter ever sighted on +that long tack to the shores of Ysabel, and during the tedious head-beat +from there to Malaita. He landed at Port Adams with a wealth of rifles +and tobacco such as no one man had ever possessed before. But he did +not stop there. He had taken a white man's head, and only the bush could +shelter him. So back he went to the bush villages, where he shot old +Fanfoa and half a dozen of the chief men, and made himself the chief +over all the villages. When his father died, Mauki's brother ruled +in Port Adams, and joined together, salt-water men and bushmen, the +resulting combination was the strongest of the ten score fighting tribes +of Malaita. + +More than his fear of the British government was Mauki's fear of the +all-powerful Moongleam Soap Company; and one day a message came up +to him in the bush, reminding him that he owed the Company eight and +one-half years of labor. He sent back a favorable answer, and then +appeared the inevitable white man, the captain of the schooner, the +only white man during Mauki's reign, who ventured the bush and came out +alive. This man not only came out, but he brought with him seven hundred +and fifty dollars in gold sovereigns--the money price of eight years +and a half of labor plus the cost price of certain rifles and cases of +tobacco. + +Mauki no longer weighs one hundred and ten pounds. His stomach is +three times its former girth, and he has four wives. He has many +other things--rifles and revolvers, the handle of a china cup, and an +excellent collection of bushmen's heads. But more precious than the +entire collection is another head, perfectly dried and cured, with sandy +hair and a yellowish beard, which is kept wrapped in the finest of fibre +lava-lavas. When Mauki goes to war with villages beyond his realm, +he invariably gets out this head, and alone in his grass palace, +contemplates it long and solemnly. At such times the hush of death falls +on the village, and not even a pickaninny dares make a noise. The +head is esteemed the most powerful devil-devil on Malaita, and to the +possession of it is ascribed all of Mauki's greatness. + + + + +"YAH! YAH! YAH!" + +He was a whiskey-guzzling Scotchman, and he downed his whiskey neat, +beginning with his first tot punctually at six in the morning, and +thereafter repeating it at regular intervals throughout the day till +bedtime, which was usually midnight. He slept but five hours out of the +twenty-four, and for the remaining nineteen hours he was quietly and +decently drunk. During the eight weeks I spent with him on Oolong Atoll, +I never saw him draw a sober breath. In fact, his sleep was so short +that he never had time to sober up. It was the most beautiful and +orderly perennial drunk I have ever observed. + +McAllister was his name. He was an old man, and very shaky on his pins. +His hand trembled as with a palsy, especially noticeable when he poured +his whiskey, though I never knew him to spill a drop. He had been +twenty-eight years in Melanesia, ranging from German New Guinea to the +German Solomons, and so thoroughly had he become identified with that +portion of the world, that he habitually spoke in that bastard lingo +called "bech-de-mer." Thus, in conversation with me, SUN HE COME UP +meant sunrise; KAI-KAI HE STOP meant that dinner was served; and BELLY +BELONG ME WALK ABOUT meant that he was sick at his stomach. He was +a small man, and a withered one, burned inside and outside by ardent +spirits and ardent sun. He was a cinder, a bit of a clinker of a man, a +little animated clinker, not yet quite cold, that moved stiffly and by +starts and jerks like an automaton. A gust of wind would have blown him +away. He weighed ninety pounds. + +But the immense thing about him was the power with which he ruled. +Oolong Atoll was one hundred and forty miles in circumference. One +steered by compass course in its lagoon. It was populated by five +thousand Polynesians, all strapping men and women, many of them standing +six feet in height and weighing a couple of hundred pounds. Oolong was +two hundred and fifty miles from the nearest land. Twice a year a +little schooner called to collect copra. The one white man on Oolong was +McAllister, petty trader and unintermittent guzzler; and he ruled Oolong +and its six thousand savages with an iron hand. He said come, and they +came, go, and they went. They never questioned his will nor judgment. +He was cantankerous as only an aged Scotchman can be, and interfered +continually in their personal affairs. When Nugu, the king's daughter, +wanted to marry Haunau from the other end of the atoll, her father said +yes; but McAllister said no, and the marriage never came off. When the +king wanted to buy a certain islet in the lagoon from the chief priest, +McAllister said no. The king was in debt to the Company to the tune of +180,000 cocoanuts, and until that was paid he was not to spend a single +cocoanut on anything else. + +And yet the king and his people did not love McAllister. In truth, they +hated him horribly, and, to my knowledge, the whole population, with the +priests at the head, tried vainly for three months to pray him to death. +The devil-devils they sent after him were awe-inspiring, but since +McAllister did not believe in devil-devils, they were without power over +him. With drunken Scotchmen all signs fail. They gathered up scraps of +food which had touched his lips, an empty whiskey bottle, a cocoanut +from which he had drunk, and even his spittle, and performed all kinds +of deviltries over them. But McAllister lived on. His health was superb. +He never caught fever; nor coughs nor colds; dysentery passed him by; +and the malignant ulcers and vile skin diseases that attack blacks and +whites alike in that climate never fastened upon him. He must have been +so saturated with alcohol as to defy the lodgment of germs. I used to +imagine them falling to the ground in showers of microscopic cinders as +fast as they entered his whiskey-sodden aura. No one loved him, not even +germs, while he loved only whiskey, and still he lived. + +I was puzzled. I could not understand six thousand natives putting up +with that withered shrimp of a tyrant. It was a miracle that he had not +died suddenly long since. Unlike the cowardly Melanesians, the people +were high-stomached and warlike. In the big graveyard, at head and feet +of the graves, were relics of past sanguinary history--blubber-spades, +rusty old bayonets and cutlasses, copper bolts, rudder-irons, harpoons, +bomb guns, bricks that could have come from nowhere but a whaler's +trying-out furnace, and old brass pieces of the sixteenth century that +verified the traditions of the early Spanish navigators. Ship after +ship had come to grief on Oolong. Not thirty years before, the whaler +BLENNERDALE, running into the lagoon for repair, had been cut off with +all hands. In similar fashion had the crew of the GASKET, a sandalwood +trader, perished. There was a big French bark, the TOULON, becalmed off +the atoll, which the islanders boarded after a sharp tussle and wrecked +in the Lipau Passage, the captain and a handful of sailors escaping in +the longboat. Then there were the Spanish pieces, which told of the +loss of one of the early explorers. All this, of the vessels named, is +a matter of history, and is to be found in the SOUTH PACIFIC SAILING +DIRECTORY. But that there was other history, unwritten, I was yet to +learn. In the meantime I puzzled why six thousand primitive savages let +one degenerate Scotch despot live. + +One hot afternoon McAllister and I sat on the veranda looking out over +the lagoon, with all its wonder of jeweled colors. At our backs, across +the hundred yards of palm-studded sand, the outer surf roared on the +reef. It was dreadfully warm. We were in four degree south latitude and +the sun was directly overhead, having crossed the Line a few days before +on its journey south. There was no wind--not even a catspaw. The season +of the southeast trade was drawing to an early close, and the northwest +monsoon had not yet begun to blow. + +"They can't dance worth a damn," said McAllister. + +I had happened to mention that the Polynesian dances were superior to +the Papuan, and this McAllister had denied, for no other reason than +his cantankerousness. But it was too hot to argue, and I said nothing. +Besides, I had never seen the Oolong people dance. + +"I'll prove it to you," he announced, beckoning to the black New Hanover +boy, a labor recruit, who served as cook and general house servant. +"Hey, you, boy, you tell 'm one fella king come along me." + +The boy departed, and back came the prime minister, perturbed, ill at +ease, and garrulous with apologetic explanation. In short, the king +slept, and was not to be disturbed. + +"King he plenty strong fella sleep," was his final sentence. + +McAllister was in such a rage that the prime minister incontinently +fled, to return with the king himself. They were a magnificent pair, +the king especially, who must have been all of six feet three inches in +height. His features had the eagle-like quality that is so frequently +found in those of the North American Indian. He had been molded and born +to rule. His eyes flashed as he listened, but right meekly he obeyed +McAllister's command to fetch a couple of hundred of the best dancers, +male and female, in the village. And dance they did, for two mortal +hours, under that broiling sun. They did not love him for it, and little +he cared, in the end dismissing them with abuse and sneers. + +The abject servility of those magnificent savages was terrifying. How +could it be? What was the secret of his rule? More and more I puzzled +as the days went by, and though I observed perpetual examples of his +undisputed sovereignty, never a clew was there as to how it was. + +One day I happened to speak of my disappointment in failing to trade for +a beautiful pair of orange cowries. The pair was worth five pounds +in Sydney if it was worth a cent. I had offered two hundred sticks +of tobacco to the owner, who had held out for three hundred. When I +casually mentioned the situation, McAllister immediately sent for the +man, took the shells from him, and turned them over to me. Fifty sticks +were all he permitted me to pay for them. The man accepted the tobacco +and seemed overjoyed at getting off so easily. As for me, I resolved to +keep a bridle on my tongue in the future. And still I mulled over the +secret of McAllister's power. I even went to the extent of asking +him directly, but all he did was to cock one eye, look wise, and take +another drink. + +One night I was out fishing in the lagoon with Oti, the man who had +been mulcted of the cowries. Privily, I had made up to him an additional +hundred and fifty sticks, and he had come to regard me with a respect +that was almost veneration, which was curious, seeing that he was an old +man, twice my age at least. + +"What name you fella kanaka all the same pickaninny?" I began on him. +"This fella trader he one fella. You fella kanaka plenty fella too +much. You fella kanaka just like 'm dog--plenty fright along that fella +trader. He no eat you, fella. He no get 'm teeth along him. What name +you too much fright?" + +"S'pose plenty fella kanaka kill 'm?" he asked. + +"He die," I retorted. "You fella kanaka kill 'm plenty fella white man +long time before. What name you fright this fella white man?" + +"Yes, we kill 'm plenty," was his answer. "My word! Any amount! Long +time before. One time, me young fella too much, one big fella ship he +stop outside. Wind he no blow. Plenty fella kanaka we get 'm canoe, +plenty fella canoe, we go catch 'm that fella ship. My word--we catch 'm +big fella fight. Two, three white men shoot like hell. We no fright. +We come alongside, we go up side, plenty fella, maybe I think fifty-ten +(five hundred). One fella white Mary (woman) belong that fella ship. +Never before I see 'm white Mary. Bime by plenty white man finish. One +fella skipper he no die. Five fella, six fella white man no die. Skipper +he sing out. Some fella white man he fight. Some fella white man he +lower away boat. After that, all together over the side they go. Skipper +he sling white Mary down. After that they washee (row) strong fella +plenty too much. Father belong me, that time he strong fella. He throw +'m one fella spear. That fella spear he go in one side that white Mary. +He no stop. My word, he go out other side that fella Mary. She finish. +Me no fright. Plenty kanaka too much no fright." + +Old Oti's pride had been touched, for he suddenly stripped down his +lava-lava and showed me the unmistakable scar of a bullet. Before I +could speak, his line ran out suddenly. He checked it and attempted to +haul in, but found that the fish had run around a coral branch. Casting +a look of reproach at me for having beguiled him from his watchfulness, +he went over the side, feet first, turning over after he got under and +following his line down to bottom. The water was ten fathoms. I leaned +over and watched the play of his feet, growing dim and dimmer, as they +stirred the wan phosphorescence into ghostly fires. Ten fathoms--sixty +feet--it was nothing to him, an old man, compared with the value of a +hook and line. After what seemed five minutes, though it could not have +been more than a minute, I saw him flaming whitely upward. He broke +surface and dropped a ten pound rock cod into the canoe, the line and +hook intact, the latter still fast in the fish's mouth. + +"It may be," I said remorselessly. "You no fright long ago. You plenty +fright now along that fella trader." + +"Yes, plenty fright," he confessed, with an air of dismissing the +subject. For half an hour we pulled up our lines and flung them out in +silence. Then small fish-sharks began to bite, and after losing a hook +apiece, we hauled in and waited for the sharks to go their way. + +"I speak you true," Oti broke into speech, "then you savve we fright +now." + +I lighted up my pipe and waited, and the story that Oti told me in +atrocious bech-de-mer I here turn into proper English. Otherwise, in +spirit and order of narrative, the tale is as it fell from Oti's lips. + +"It was after that that we were very proud. We had fought many times +with the strange white men who live upon the sea, and always we had +beaten them. A few of us were killed, but what was that compared with +the stores of wealth of a thousand thousand kinds that we found on the +ships? And then one day, maybe twenty years ago, or twenty-five, there +came a schooner right through the passage and into the lagoon. It was a +large schooner with three masts. She had five white men and maybe forty +boat's crew, black fellows from New Guinea and New Britain; and she +had come to fish beche-de-mer. She lay at anchor across the lagoon from +here, at Pauloo, and her boats scattered out everywhere, making camps +on the beaches where they cured the beche-de-mer. This made them weak +by dividing them, for those who fished here and those on the schooner at +Pauloo were fifty miles apart, and there were others farther away still. + +"Our king and headmen held council, and I was one in the canoe that +paddled all afternoon and all night across the lagoon, bringing word +to the people of Pauloo that in the morning we would attack the fishing +camps at the one time and that it was for them to take the schooner. We +who brought the word were tired with the paddling, but we took part +in the attack. On the schooner were two white men, the skipper and the +second mate, with half a dozen black boys. The skipper with three boys +we caught on shore and killed, but first eight of us the skipper killed +with his two revolvers. We fought close together, you see, at hand +grapples. + +"The noise of our fighting told the mate what was happening, and he put +food and water and a sail in the small dingy, which was so small that +it was no more than twelve feet long. We came down upon the schooner, a +thousand men, covering the lagoon with our canoes. Also, we were blowing +conch shells, singing war songs, and striking the sides of the canoes +with our paddles. What chance had one white man and three black boys +against us? No chance at all, and the mate knew it. + +"White men are hell. I have watched them much, and I am an old man now, +and I understand at last why the white men have taken to themselves all +the islands in the sea. It is because they are hell. Here are you in +the canoe with me. You are hardly more than a boy. You are not wise, +for each day I tell you many things you do not know. When I was a little +pickaninny, I knew more about fish and the ways of fish than you know +now. I am an old man, but I swim down to the bottom of the lagoon, and +you cannot follow me. What are you good for, anyway? I do not know, +except to fight. I have never seen you fight, yet I know that you are +like your brothers and that you will fight like hell. Also, you are a +fool, like your brothers. You do not know when you are beaten. You will +fight until you die, and then it will be too late to know that you are +beaten. + +"Now behold what this mate did. As we came down upon him, covering the +sea and blowing our conches, he put off from the schooner in the small +boat, along with the three black boys, and rowed for the passage. There +again he was a fool, for no wise man would put out to sea in so small +a boat. The sides of it were not four inches above the water. Twenty +canoes went after him, filled with two hundred young men. We paddled +five fathoms while his black boys were rowing one fathom. He had no +chance, but he was a fool. He stood up in the boat with a rifle, and he +shot many times. He was not a good shot, but as we drew close many of us +were wounded and killed. But still he had no chance. + +"I remember that all the time he was smoking a cigar. When we were forty +feet away and coming fast, he dropped the rifle, lighted a stick of +dynamite with the cigar, and threw it at us. He lighted another and +another, and threw them at us very rapidly, many of them. I know now +that he must have split the ends of the fuses and stuck in match heads, +because they lighted so quickly. Also, the fuses were very short. +Sometimes the dynamite sticks went off in the air, but most of them went +off in the canoes. And each time they went off in a canoe, that canoe +was finished. Of the twenty canoes, the half were smashed to pieces. The +canoe I was in was so smashed, and likewise the two men who sat next +to me. The dynamite fell between them. The other canoes turned and ran +away. Then that mate yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' at us. Also he went at us +again with his rifle, so that many were killed through the back as they +fled away. And all the time the black boys in the boat went on rowing. +You see, I told you true, that mate was hell. + +"Nor was that all. Before he left the schooner, he set her on fire, +and fixed up all the powder and dynamite so that it would go off at one +time. There were hundreds of us on board, trying to put out the fire, +heaving up water from overside, when the schooner blew up. So that all +we had fought for was lost to us, besides many more of us being killed. +Sometimes, even now, in my old age, I have bad dreams in which I hear +that mate yell, Yah! Yah! Yah!' In a voice of thunder he yells, Yah! +Yah! Yah!' But all those in the fishing camps were killed. + +"The mate went out of the passage in his little boat, and that was the +end of him we made sure, for how could so small a boat, with four men in +it, live on the ocean? A month went by, and then, one morning, between +two rain squalls, a schooner sailed in through our passage and dropped +anchor before the village. The king and the headmen made big talk, and +it was agreed that we would take the schooner in two or three days. In +the meantime, as it was our custom always to appear friendly, we went +off to her in canoes, bringing strings of cocoanuts, fowls, and pigs, to +trade. But when we were alongside, many canoes of us, the men on board +began to shoot us with rifles, and as we paddled away I saw the mate who +had gone to sea in the little boat spring upon the rail and dance and +yell, Yah! Yah! Yah!' + +"That afternoon they landed from the schooner in three small boats +filled with white men. They went right through the village, shooting +every man they saw. Also they shot the fowls and pigs. We who were not +killed got away in canoes and paddled out into the lagoon. Looking back, +we could see all the houses on fire. Late in the afternoon we saw many +canoes coming from Nihi, which is the village near the Nihi Passage in +the northeast. They were all that were left, and like us their village +had been burned by a second schooner that had come through Nihi Passage. + +"We stood on in the darkness to the westward for Pauloo, but in the +middle of the night we heard women wailing and then we ran into a big +fleet of canoes. They were all that were left of Pauloo, which likewise +was in ashes, for a third schooner had come in through the Pauloo +Passage. You see, that mate, with his black boys, had not been drowned. +He had made the Solomon Islands, and there told his brothers of what we +had done in Oolong. And all his brothers had said they would come and +punish us, and there they were in the three schooners, and our three +villages were wiped out. + +"And what was there for us to do? In the morning the two schooners from +windward sailed down upon us in the middle of the lagoon. The trade wind +was blowing fresh, and by scores of canoes they ran us down. And the +rifles never ceased talking. We scattered like flying fish before the +bonita, and there were so many of us that we escaped by thousands, this +way and that, to the islands on the rim of the atoll. + +"And thereafter the schooners hunted us up and down the lagoon. In the +nighttime we slipped past them. But the next day, or in two days or +three days, the schooners would be coming back, hunting us toward +the other end of the lagoon. And so it went. We no longer counted nor +remembered our dead. True, we were many and they were few. But what +could we do? I was in one of the twenty canoes filled with men who were +not afraid to die. We attacked the smallest schooner. They shot us down +in heaps. They threw dynamite into the canoes, and when the dynamite +gave out, they threw hot water down upon us. And the rifles never ceased +talking. And those whose canoes were smashed were shot as they swam +away. And the mate danced up and down upon the cabin top and yelled, +'Yah! Yah! Yah!'" + +"Every house on every smallest island was burned. Not a pig nor a fowl +was left alive. Our wells were defiled with the bodies of the slain, or +else heaped high with coral rock. We were twenty-five thousand on Oolong +before the three schooners came. Today we are five thousand. After the +schooners left, we were but three thousand, as you shall see. + +"At last the three schooners grew tired of chasing us back and forth. So +they went, the three of them, to Nihi, in the northeast. And then they +drove us steadily to the west. Their nine boats were in the water as +well. They beat up every island as they moved along. They drove us, +drove us, drove us day by day. And every night the three schooners and +the nine boats made a chain of watchfulness that stretched across the +lagoon from rim to rim, so that we could not escape back. + +"They could not drive us forever that way, for the lagoon was only so +large, and at last all of us that yet lived were driven upon the last +sand bank to the west. Beyond lay the open sea. There were ten thousand +of us, and we covered the sand bank from the lagoon edge to the pounding +surf on the other side. No one could lie down. There was no room. We +stood hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder. Two days they kept us there, +and the mate would climb up in the rigging to mock us and yell, Yah! +Yah! Yah!' till we were well sorry that we had ever harmed him or his +schooner a month before. We had no food, and we stood on our feet two +days and nights. The little babies died, and the old and weak died, +and the wounded died. And worst of all, we had no water to quench our +thirst, and for two days the sun beat down on us, and there was no +shade. Many men and women waded out into the ocean and were drowned, the +surf casting their bodies back on the beach. And there came a pest of +flies. Some men swam to the sides of the schooners, but they were shot +to the last one. And we that lived were very sorry that in our pride we +tried to take the schooner with the three masts that came to fish for +beche-de-mer. + +"On the morning of the third day came the skippers of the three +schooners and that mate in a small boat. They carried rifles, all of +them, and revolvers, and they made talk. It was only that they were +weary of killing us that they had stopped, they told us. And we told +them that we were sorry, that never again would we harm a white man, and +in token of our submission we poured sand upon our heads. And all the +women and children set up a great wailing for water, so that for some +time no man could make himself heard. Then we were told our punishment. +We must fill the three schooners with copra and beche-de-mer. And we +agreed, for we wanted water, and our hearts were broken, and we knew +that we were children at fighting when we fought with white men who +fight like hell. And when all the talk was finished, the mate stood up +and mocked us, and yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' After that we paddled away in +our canoes and sought water. + +"And for weeks we toiled at catching beche-de-mer and curing it, in +gathering the cocoanuts and turning them into copra. By day and night +the smoke rose in clouds from all the beaches of all the islands of +Oolong as we paid the penalty of our wrongdoing. For in those days of +death it was burned clearly on all our brains that it was very wrong to +harm a white man. + +"By and by, the schooners full of copra and beche-de-mer and our trees +empty of cocoanuts, the three skippers and that mate called us all +together for a big talk. And they said they were very glad that we had +learned our lesson, and we said for the ten-thousandth time that we were +sorry and that we would not do it again. Also, we poured sand upon our +heads. Then the skippers said that it was all very well, but just to +show us that they did not forget us, they would send a devil-devil that +we would never forget and that we would always remember any time we +might feel like harming a white man. After that the mate mocked us +one more time and yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' Then six of our men, whom we +thought long dead, were put ashore from one of the schooners, and the +schooners hoisted their sails and ran out through the passage for the +Solomons. + +"The six men who were put ashore were the first to catch the devil-devil +the skippers sent back after us." + +"A great sickness came," I interrupted, for I recognized the trick. +The schooner had had measles on board, and the six prisoners had been +deliberately exposed to it. + +"Yes, a great sickness," Oti went on. "It was a powerful devil-devil. +The oldest man had never heard of the like. Those of our priests that +yet lived we killed because they could not overcome the devil-devil. +The sickness spread. I have said that there were ten thousand of us +that stood hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder on the sandbank. When the +sickness left us, there were three thousand yet alive. Also, having made +all our cocoanuts into copra, there was a famine. + +"That fella trader," Oti concluded, "he like 'm that much dirt. He like +'m clam he die KAI-KAI (meat) he stop, stink 'm any amount. He like 'm +one fella dog, one sick fella dog plenty fleas stop along him. We no +fright along that fella trader. We fright because he white man. We savve +plenty too much no good kill white man. That one fella sick dog trader +he plenty brother stop along him, white men like 'm you fight like hell. +We no fright that damn trader. Some time he made kanaka plenty cross +along him and kanaka want 'm kill m, kanaka he think devil-devil and +kanaka he hear that fella mate sing out, Yah! Yah! Yah!' and kanaka no +kill 'm." + +Oti baited his hook with a piece of squid, which he tore with his teeth +from the live and squirming monster, and hook and bait sank in white +flames to the bottom. + +"Shark walk about he finish," he said. "I think we catch 'm plenty fella +fish." + +His line jerked savagely. He pulled it in rapidly, hand under hand, and +landed a big gasping rock cod in the bottom of the canoe. + +"Sun he come up, I make 'm that dam fella trader one present big fella +fish," said Oti. + + + + +THE HEATHEN + +I met him first in a hurricane; and though we had gone through the +hurricane on the same schooner, it was not until the schooner had gone +to pieces under us that I first laid eyes on him. Without doubt I +had seen him with the rest of the kanaka crew on board, but I had not +consciously been aware of his existence, for the Petite Jeanne was +rather overcrowded. In addition to her eight or ten kanaka seamen, her +white captain, mate, and supercargo, and her six cabin passengers, +she sailed from Rangiroa with something like eighty-five deck +passengers--Paumotans and Tahitians, men, women, and children each with +a trade box, to say nothing of sleeping mats, blankets, and clothes +bundles. + +The pearling season in the Paumotus was over, and all hands were +returning to Tahiti. The six of us cabin passengers were pearl buyers. +Two were Americans, one was Ah Choon (the whitest Chinese I have ever +known), one was a German, one was a Polish Jew, and I completed the half +dozen. + +It had been a prosperous season. Not one of us had cause for complaint, +nor one of the eighty-five deck passengers either. All had done well, +and all were looking forward to a rest-off and a good time in Papeete. + +Of course, the Petite Jeanne was overloaded. She was only seventy tons, +and she had no right to carry a tithe of the mob she had on board. +Beneath her hatches she was crammed and jammed with pearl shell and +copra. Even the trade room was packed full with shell. It was a miracle +that the sailors could work her. There was no moving about the decks. +They simply climbed back and forth along the rails. + +In the night time they walked upon the sleepers, who carpeted the deck, +I'll swear, two deep. Oh! And there were pigs and chickens on deck, and +sacks of yams, while every conceivable place was festooned with strings +of drinking cocoanuts and bunches of bananas. On both sides, between the +fore and main shrouds, guys had been stretched, just low enough for +the foreboom to swing clear; and from each of these guys at least fifty +bunches of bananas were suspended. + +It promised to be a messy passage, even if we did make it in the two +or three days that would have been required if the southeast trades had +been blowing fresh. But they weren't blowing fresh. After the first +five hours the trade died away in a dozen or so gasping fans. The calm +continued all that night and the next day--one of those glaring, glassy, +calms, when the very thought of opening one's eyes to look at it is +sufficient to cause a headache. + +The second day a man died--an Easter Islander, one of the best divers +that season in the lagoon. Smallpox--that is what it was; though how +smallpox could come on board, when there had been no known cases ashore +when we left Rangiroa, is beyond me. There it was, though--smallpox, a +man dead, and three others down on their backs. + +There was nothing to be done. We could not segregate the sick, nor could +we care for them. We were packed like sardines. There was nothing to do +but rot and die--that is, there was nothing to do after the night that +followed the first death. On that night, the mate, the supercargo, the +Polish Jew, and four native divers sneaked away in the large whale boat. +They were never heard of again. In the morning the captain promptly +scuttled the remaining boats, and there we were. + +That day there were two deaths; the following day three; then it +jumped to eight. It was curious to see how we took it. The natives, +for instance, fell into a condition of dumb, stolid fear. The +captain--Oudouse, his name was, a Frenchman--became very nervous and +voluble. He actually got the twitches. He was a large fleshy man, +weighing at least two hundred pounds, and he quickly became a faithful +representation of a quivering jelly-mountain of fat. + +The German, the two Americans, and myself bought up all the Scotch +whiskey, and proceeded to stay drunk. The theory was beautiful--namely, +if we kept ourselves soaked in alcohol, every smallpox germ that came +into contact with us would immediately be scorched to a cinder. And the +theory worked, though I must confess that neither Captain Oudouse nor Ah +Choon were attacked by the disease either. The Frenchman did not drink +at all, while Ah Choon restricted himself to one drink daily. + +It was a pretty time. The sun, going into northern declination, was +straight overhead. There was no wind, except for frequent squalls, which +blew fiercely for from five minutes to half an hour, and wound up by +deluging us with rain. After each squall, the awful sun would come out, +drawing clouds of steam from the soaked decks. + +The steam was not nice. It was the vapor of death, freighted with +millions and millions of germs. We always took another drink when we saw +it going up from the dead and dying, and usually we took two or three +more drinks, mixing them exceptionally stiff. Also, we made it a rule +to take an additional several each time they hove the dead over to the +sharks that swarmed about us. + +We had a week of it, and then the whiskey gave out. It is just as well, +or I shouldn't be alive now. It took a sober man to pull through what +followed, as you will agree when I mention the little fact that only two +men did pull through. The other man was the heathen--at least, that was +what I heard Captain Oudouse call him at the moment I first became aware +of the heathen's existence. But to come back. + +It was at the end of the week, with the whiskey gone, and the pearl +buyers sober, that I happened to glance at the barometer that hung in +the cabin companionway. Its normal register in the Paumotus was 29.90, +and it was quite customary to see it vacillate between 29.85 and 30.00, +or even 30.05; but to see it as I saw it, down to 29.62, was sufficient +to sober the most drunken pearl buyer that ever incinerated smallpox +microbes in Scotch whiskey. + +I called Captain Oudouse's attention to it, only to be informed that he +had watched it going down for several hours. There was little to do, but +that little he did very well, considering the circumstances. He took +off the light sails, shortened right down to storm canvas, spread life +lines, and waited for the wind. His mistake lay in what he did after the +wind came. He hove to on the port tack, which was the right thing to do +south of the Equator, if--and there was the rub--IF one were NOT in the +direct path of the hurricane. + +We were in the direct path. I could see that by the steady increase of +the wind and the equally steady fall of the barometer. I wanted him +to turn and run with the wind on the port quarter until the barometer +ceased falling, and then to heave to. We argued till he was reduced to +hysteria, but budge he would not. The worst of it was that I could not +get the rest of the pearl buyers to back me up. Who was I, anyway, to +know more about the sea and its ways than a properly qualified captain? +was what was in their minds, I knew. + +Of course, the sea rose with the wind frightfully; and I shall never +forget the first three seas the Petite Jeanne shipped. She had fallen +off, as vessels do at times when hove to, and the first sea made a clean +breach. The life lines were only for the strong and well, and little +good were they even for them when the women and children, the bananas +and cocoanuts, the pigs and trade boxes, the sick and the dying, were +swept along in a solid, screeching, groaning mass. + +The second sea filled the Petite Jeanne's decks flush with the rails; +and, as her stern sank down and her bow tossed skyward, all the +miserable dunnage of life and luggage poured aft. It was a human +torrent. They came head first, feet first, sidewise, rolling over and +over, twisting, squirming, writhing, and crumpling up. Now and again +one caught a grip on a stanchion or a rope; but the weight of the bodies +behind tore such grips loose. + +One man I noticed fetch up, head on and square on, with the starboard +bitt. His head cracked like an egg. I saw what was coming, sprang on top +of the cabin, and from there into the mainsail itself. Ah Choon and one +of the Americans tried to follow me, but I was one jump ahead of them. +The American was swept away and over the stern like a piece of chaff. +Ah Choon caught a spoke of the wheel, and swung in behind it. But a +strapping Raratonga vahine (woman)--she must have weighed two hundred +and fifty--brought up against him, and got an arm around his neck. He +clutched the kanaka steersman with his other hand; and just at that +moment the schooner flung down to starboard. + +The rush of bodies and sea that was coming along the port runway between +the cabin and the rail turned abruptly and poured to starboard. Away +they went--vahine, Ah Choon, and steersman; and I swear I saw Ah Choon +grin at me with philosophic resignation as he cleared the rail and went +under. + +The third sea--the biggest of the three--did not do so much damage. By +the time it arrived nearly everybody was in the rigging. On deck perhaps +a dozen gasping, half-drowned, and half-stunned wretches were rolling +about or attempting to crawl into safety. They went by the board, as +did the wreckage of the two remaining boats. The other pearl buyers and +myself, between seas, managed to get about fifteen women and children +into the cabin, and battened down. Little good it did the poor creatures +in the end. + +Wind? Out of all my experience I could not have believed it possible +for the wind to blow as it did. There is no describing it. How can one +describe a nightmare? It was the same way with that wind. It tore the +clothes off our bodies. I say TORE THEM OFF, and I mean it. I am not +asking you to believe it. I am merely telling something that I saw and +felt. There are times when I do not believe it myself. I went through +it, and that is enough. One could not face that wind and live. It was +a monstrous thing, and the most monstrous thing about it was that it +increased and continued to increase. + +Imagine countless millions and billions of tons of sand. Imagine this +sand tearing along at ninety, a hundred, a hundred and twenty, or +any other number of miles per hour. Imagine, further, this sand to be +invisible, impalpable, yet to retain all the weight and density of sand. +Do all this, and you may get a vague inkling of what that wind was like. + +Perhaps sand is not the right comparison. Consider it mud, invisible, +impalpable, but heavy as mud. Nay, it goes beyond that. Consider every +molecule of air to be a mudbank in itself. Then try to imagine the +multitudinous impact of mudbanks. No; it is beyond me. Language may +be adequate to express the ordinary conditions of life, but it cannot +possibly express any of the conditions of so enormous a blast of wind. +It would have been better had I stuck by my original intention of not +attempting a description. + +I will say this much: The sea, which had risen at first, was beaten down +by that wind. More: it seemed as if the whole ocean had been sucked up +in the maw of the hurricane, and hurled on through that portion of space +which previously had been occupied by the air. + +Of course, our canvas had gone long before. But Captain Oudouse had +on the Petite Jeanne something I had never before seen on a South Sea +schooner--a sea anchor. It was a conical canvas bag, the mouth of +which was kept open by a huge loop of iron. The sea anchor was bridled +something like a kite, so that it bit into the water as a kite bites +into the air, but with a difference. The sea anchor remained just under +the surface of the ocean in a perpendicular position. A long line, in +turn, connected it with the schooner. As a result, the Petite Jeanne +rode bow on to the wind and to what sea there was. + +The situation really would have been favorable had we not been in the +path of the storm. True, the wind itself tore our canvas out of the +gaskets, jerked out our topmasts, and made a raffle of our running gear, +but still we would have come through nicely had we not been square in +front of the advancing storm center. That was what fixed us. I was in a +state of stunned, numbed, paralyzed collapse from enduring the impact of +the wind, and I think I was just about ready to give up and die when the +center smote us. The blow we received was an absolute lull. There was +not a breath of air. The effect on one was sickening. + +Remember that for hours we had been at terrific muscular tension, +withstanding the awful pressure of that wind. And then, suddenly, +the pressure was removed. I know that I felt as though I was about +to expand, to fly apart in all directions. It seemed as if every atom +composing my body was repelling every other atom and was on the verge of +rushing off irresistibly into space. But that lasted only for a moment. +Destruction was upon us. + +In the absence of the wind and pressure the sea rose. It jumped, it +leaped, it soared straight toward the clouds. Remember, from every point +of the compass that inconceivable wind was blowing in toward the center +of calm. The result was that the seas sprang up from every point of +the compass. There was no wind to check them. They popped up like corks +released from the bottom of a pail of water. There was no system to +them, no stability. They were hollow, maniacal seas. They were eighty +feet high at the least. They were not seas at all. They resembled no sea +a man had ever seen. + +They were splashes, monstrous splashes--that is all. Splashes that were +eighty feet high. Eighty! They were more than eighty. They went over our +mastheads. They were spouts, explosions. They were drunken. They fell +anywhere, anyhow. They jostled one another; they collided. They rushed +together and collapsed upon one another, or fell apart like a thousand +waterfalls all at once. It was no ocean any man had ever dreamed of, +that hurricane center. It was confusion thrice confounded. It was +anarchy. It was a hell pit of sea water gone mad. + +The Petite Jeanne? I don't know. The heathen told me afterwards that +he did not know. She was literally torn apart, ripped wide open, beaten +into a pulp, smashed into kindling wood, annihilated. When I came to I +was in the water, swimming automatically, though I was about two-thirds +drowned. How I got there I had no recollection. I remembered seeing the +Petite Jeanne fly to pieces at what must have been the instant that my +own consciousness was buffeted out of me. But there I was, with nothing +to do but make the best of it, and in that best there was little +promise. The wind was blowing again, the sea was much smaller and more +regular, and I knew that I had passed through the center. Fortunately, +there were no sharks about. The hurricane had dissipated the ravenous +horde that had surrounded the death ship and fed off the dead. + +It was about midday when the Petite Jeanne went to pieces, and it must +have been two hours afterwards when I picked up with one of her hatch +covers. Thick rain was driving at the time; and it was the merest chance +that flung me and the hatch cover together. A short length of line was +trailing from the rope handle; and I knew that I was good for a day, +at least, if the sharks did not return. Three hours later, possibly +a little longer, sticking close to the cover, and with closed eyes, +concentrating my whole soul upon the task of breathing in enough air to +keep me going and at the same time of avoiding breathing in enough water +to drown me, it seemed to me that I heard voices. The rain had ceased, +and wind and sea were easing marvelously. Not twenty feet away from me, +on another hatch cover were Captain Oudouse and the heathen. They were +fighting over the possession of the cover--at least, the Frenchman was. +"Paien noir!" I heard him scream, and at the same time I saw him kick +the kanaka. + +Now, Captain Oudouse had lost all his clothes, except his shoes, and +they were heavy brogans. It was a cruel blow, for it caught the heathen +on the mouth and the point of the chin, half stunning him. I looked for +him to retaliate, but he contented himself with swimming about forlornly +a safe ten feet away. Whenever a fling of the sea threw him closer, the +Frenchman, hanging on with his hands, kicked out at him with both feet. +Also, at the moment of delivering each kick, he called the kanaka a +black heathen. + +"For two centimes I'd come over there and drown you, you white beast!" I +yelled. + +The only reason I did not go was that I felt too tired. The very thought +of the effort to swim over was nauseating. So I called to the kanaka to +come to me, and proceeded to share the hatch cover with him. Otoo, he +told me his name was (pronounced o-to-o ); also, he told me that he +was a native of Bora Bora, the most westerly of the Society Group. As +I learned afterward, he had got the hatch cover first, and, after some +time, encountering Captain Oudouse, had offered to share it with him, +and had been kicked off for his pains. + +And that was how Otoo and I first came together. He was no fighter. +He was all sweetness and gentleness, a love creature, though he stood +nearly six feet tall and was muscled like a gladiator. He was no +fighter, but he was also no coward. He had the heart of a lion; and in +the years that followed I have seen him run risks that I would never +dream of taking. What I mean is that while he was no fighter, and while +he always avoided precipitating a row, he never ran away from trouble +when it started. And it was "Ware shoal!" when once Otoo went into +action. I shall never forget what he did to Bill King. It occurred +in German Samoa. Bill King was hailed the champion heavyweight of the +American Navy. He was a big brute of a man, a veritable gorilla, one of +those hard-hitting, rough-housing chaps, and clever with his fists as +well. He picked the quarrel, and he kicked Otoo twice and struck him +once before Otoo felt it to be necessary to fight. I don't think it +lasted four minutes, at the end of which time Bill King was the unhappy +possessor of four broken ribs, a broken forearm, and a dislocated +shoulder blade. Otoo knew nothing of scientific boxing. He was merely a +manhandler; and Bill King was something like three months in recovering +from the bit of manhandling he received that afternoon on Apia beach. + +But I am running ahead of my yarn. We shared the hatch cover between us. +We took turn and turn about, one lying flat on the cover and resting, +while the other, submerged to the neck, merely held on with his hands. +For two days and nights, spell and spell, on the cover and in the water, +we drifted over the ocean. Towards the last I was delirious most of the +time; and there were times, too, when I heard Otoo babbling and raving +in his native tongue. Our continuous immersion prevented us from dying +of thirst, though the sea water and the sunshine gave us the prettiest +imaginable combination of salt pickle and sunburn. + +In the end, Otoo saved my life; for I came to lying on the beach twenty +feet from the water, sheltered from the sun by a couple of cocoanut +leaves. No one but Otoo could have dragged me there and stuck up the +leaves for shade. He was lying beside me. I went off again; and the next +time I came round, it was cool and starry night, and Otoo was pressing a +drinking cocoanut to my lips. + +We were the sole survivors of the Petite Jeanne. Captain Oudouse must +have succumbed to exhaustion, for several days later his hatch cover +drifted ashore without him. Otoo and I lived with the natives of the +atoll for a week, when we were rescued by the French cruiser and taken +to Tahiti. In the meantime, however, we had performed the ceremony of +exchanging names. In the South Seas such a ceremony binds two men closer +together than blood brothership. The initiative had been mine; and Otoo +was rapturously delighted when I suggested it. + +"It is well," he said, in Tahitian. "For we have been mates together for +two days on the lips of Death." + +"But death stuttered," I smiled. + +"It was a brave deed you did, master," he replied, "and Death was not +vile enough to speak." + +"Why do you 'master' me?" I demanded, with a show of hurt feelings. +"We have exchanged names. To you I am Otoo. To me you are Charley. And +between you and me, forever and forever, you shall be Charley, and I +shall be Otoo. It is the way of the custom. And when we die, if it does +happen that we live again somewhere beyond the stars and the sky, still +shall you be Charley to me, and I Otoo to you." + +"Yes, master," he answered, his eyes luminous and soft with joy. + +"There you go!" I cried indignantly. + +"What does it matter what my lips utter?" he argued. "They are only my +lips. But I shall think Otoo always. Whenever I think of myself, I shall +think of you. Whenever men call me by name, I shall think of you. And +beyond the sky and beyond the stars, always and forever, you shall be +Otoo to me. Is it well, master?" + +I hid my smile, and answered that it was well. + +We parted at Papeete. I remained ashore to recuperate; and he went on +in a cutter to his own island, Bora Bora. Six weeks later he was back. +I was surprised, for he had told me of his wife, and said that he was +returning to her, and would give over sailing on far voyages. + +"Where do you go, master?" he asked, after our first greetings. + +I shrugged my shoulders. It was a hard question. + +"All the world," was my answer--"all the world, all the sea, and all the +islands that are in the sea." + +"I will go with you," he said simply. "My wife is dead." + +I never had a brother; but from what I have seen of other men's +brothers, I doubt if any man ever had a brother that was to him what +Otoo was to me. He was brother and father and mother as well. And this +I know: I lived a straighter and better man because of Otoo. I cared +little for other men, but I had to live straight in Otoo's eyes. Because +of him I dared not tarnish myself. He made me his ideal, compounding +me, I fear, chiefly out of his own love and worship and there were times +when I stood close to the steep pitch of hell, and would have taken +the plunge had not the thought of Otoo restrained me. His pride in me +entered into me, until it became one of the major rules in my personal +code to do nothing that would diminish that pride of his. + +Naturally, I did not learn right away what his feelings were toward me. +He never criticized, never censured; and slowly the exalted place I held +in his eyes dawned upon me, and slowly I grew to comprehend the hurt I +could inflict upon him by being anything less than my best. + +For seventeen years we were together; for seventeen years he was at +my shoulder, watching while I slept, nursing me through fever and +wounds--ay, and receiving wounds in fighting for me. He signed on the +same ships with me; and together we ranged the Pacific from Hawaii to +Sydney Head, and from Torres Straits to the Galapagos. We blackbirded +from the New Hebrides and the Line Islands over to the westward clear +through the Louisades, New Britain, New Ireland, and New Hanover. We +were wrecked three times--in the Gilberts, in the Santa Cruz group, and +in the Fijis. And we traded and salved wherever a dollar promised in +the way of pearl and pearl shell, copra, beche-de-mer, hawkbill turtle +shell, and stranded wrecks. + +It began in Papeete, immediately after his announcement that he was +going with me over all the sea, and the islands in the midst thereof. +There was a club in those days in Papeete, where the pearlers, traders, +captains, and riffraff of South Sea adventurers forgathered. The play +ran high, and the drink ran high; and I am very much afraid that I kept +later hours than were becoming or proper. No matter what the hour was +when I left the club, there was Otoo waiting to see me safely home. + +At first I smiled; next I chided him. Then I told him flatly that I +stood in need of no wet-nursing. After that I did not see him when +I came out of the club. Quite by accident, a week or so later, I +discovered that he still saw me home, lurking across the street among +the shadows of the mango trees. What could I do? I know what I did do. + +Insensibly I began to keep better hours. On wet and stormy nights, in +the thick of the folly and the fun, the thought would persist in coming +to me of Otoo keeping his dreary vigil under the dripping mangoes. +Truly, he made a better man of me. Yet he was not strait-laced. And he +knew nothing of common Christian morality. All the people on Bora +Bora were Christians; but he was a heathen, the only unbeliever on the +island, a gross materialist, who believed that when he died he was dead. +He believed merely in fair play and square dealing. Petty meanness, in +his code, was almost as serious as wanton homicide; and I do believe +that he respected a murderer more than a man given to small practices. + +Concerning me, personally, he objected to my doing anything that was +hurtful to me. Gambling was all right. He was an ardent gambler himself. +But late hours, he explained, were bad for one's health. He had seen men +who did not take care of themselves die of fever. He was no teetotaler, +and welcomed a stiff nip any time when it was wet work in the boats. On +the other hand, he believed in liquor in moderation. He had seen many +men killed or disgraced by square-face or Scotch. + +Otoo had my welfare always at heart. He thought ahead for me, weighed my +plans, and took a greater interest in them than I did myself. At first, +when I was unaware of this interest of his in my affairs, he had to +divine my intentions, as, for instance, at Papeete, when I contemplated +going partners with a knavish fellow-countryman on a guano venture. I +did not know he was a knave. Nor did any white man in Papeete. Neither +did Otoo know, but he saw how thick we were getting, and found out for +me, and without my asking him. Native sailors from the ends of the seas +knock about on the beach in Tahiti; and Otoo, suspicious merely, +went among them till he had gathered sufficient data to justify his +suspicions. Oh, it was a nice history, that of Randolph Waters. I +couldn't believe it when Otoo first narrated it; but when I sheeted it +home to Waters he gave in without a murmur, and got away on the first +steamer to Aukland. + +At first, I am free to confess, I couldn't help resenting Otoo's poking +his nose into my business. But I knew that he was wholly unselfish; and +soon I had to acknowledge his wisdom and discretion. He had his +eyes open always to my main chance, and he was both keen-sighted and +far-sighted. In time he became my counselor, until he knew more of my +business than I did myself. He really had my interest at heart more than +I did. Mine was the magnificent carelessness of youth, for I preferred +romance to dollars, and adventure to a comfortable billet with all night +in. So it was well that I had some one to look out for me. I know that +if it had not been for Otoo, I should not be here today. + +Of numerous instances, let me give one. I had had some experience in +blackbirding before I went pearling in the Paumotus. Otoo and I were on +the beach in Samoa--we really were on the beach and hard aground--when +my chance came to go as recruiter on a blackbird brig. Otoo signed on +before the mast; and for the next half-dozen years, in as many ships, we +knocked about the wildest portions of Melanesia. Otoo saw to it that he +always pulled stroke-oar in my boat. Our custom in recruiting labor was +to land the recruiter on the beach. The covering boat always lay on its +oars several hundred feet off shore, while the recruiter's boat, also +lying on its oars, kept afloat on the edge of the beach. When I landed +with my trade goods, leaving my steering sweep apeak, Otoo left his +stroke position and came into the stern sheets, where a Winchester lay +ready to hand under a flap of canvas. The boat's crew was also armed, +the Sniders concealed under canvas flaps that ran the length of the +gunwales. + +While I was busy arguing and persuading the woolly-headed cannibals to +come and labor on the Queensland plantations Otoo kept watch. And often +and often his low voice warned me of suspicious actions and impending +treachery. Sometimes it was the quick shot from his rifle, knocking a +nigger over, that was the first warning I received. And in my rush to +the boat his hand was always there to jerk me flying aboard. Once, I +remember, on SANTA ANNA, the boat grounded just as the trouble began. +The covering boat was dashing to our assistance, but the several score +of savages would have wiped us out before it arrived. Otoo took a flying +leap ashore, dug both hands into the trade goods, and scattered tobacco, +beads, tomahawks, knives, and calicoes in all directions. + +This was too much for the woolly-heads. While they scrambled for the +treasures, the boat was shoved clear, and we were aboard and forty feet +away. And I got thirty recruits off that very beach in the next four +hours. + +The particular instance I have in mind was on Malaita, the most savage +island in the easterly Solomons. The natives had been remarkably +friendly; and how were we to know that the whole village had been taking +up a collection for over two years with which to buy a white man's head? +The beggars are all head-hunters, and they especially esteem a white +man's head. The fellow who captured the head would receive the whole +collection. As I say, they appeared very friendly; and on this day I was +fully a hundred yards down the beach from the boat. Otoo had cautioned +me; and, as usual when I did not heed him, I came to grief. + +The first I knew, a cloud of spears sailed out of the mangrove swamp +at me. At least a dozen were sticking into me. I started to run, +but tripped over one that was fast in my calf, and went down. The +woolly-heads made a run for me, each with a long-handled, fantail +tomahawk with which to hack off my head. They were so eager for the +prize that they got in one another's way. In the confusion, I avoided +several hacks by throwing myself right and left on the sand. + +Then Otoo arrived--Otoo the manhandler. In some way he had got hold of a +heavy war club, and at close quarters it was a far more efficient weapon +than a rifle. He was right in the thick of them, so that they could +not spear him, while their tomahawks seemed worse than useless. He was +fighting for me, and he was in a true Berserker rage. The way he handled +that club was amazing. + +Their skulls squashed like overripe oranges. It was not until he had +driven them back, picked me up in his arms, and started to run, that +he received his first wounds. He arrived in the boat with four spear +thrusts, got his Winchester, and with it got a man for every shot. Then +we pulled aboard the schooner, and doctored up. + +Seventeen years we were together. He made me. I should today be a +supercargo, a recruiter, or a memory, if it had not been for him. + +"You spend your money, and you go out and get more," he said one day. +"It is easy to get money now. But when you get old, your money will be +spent, and you will not be able to go out and get more. I know, master. +I have studied the way of white men. On the beaches are many old men +who were young once, and who could get money just like you. Now they are +old, and they have nothing, and they wait about for the young men like +you to come ashore and buy drinks for them. + +"The black boy is a slave on the plantations. He gets twenty dollars a +year. He works hard. The overseer does not work hard. He rides a horse +and watches the black boy work. He gets twelve hundred dollars a year. +I am a sailor on the schooner. I get fifteen dollars a month. That +is because I am a good sailor. I work hard. The captain has a double +awning, and drinks beer out of long bottles. I have never seen him haul +a rope or pull an oar. He gets one hundred and fifty dollars a month. +I am a sailor. He is a navigator. Master, I think it would be very good +for you to know navigation." + +Otoo spurred me on to it. He sailed with me as second mate on my first +schooner, and he was far prouder of my command than I was myself. Later +on it was: + +"The captain is well paid, master; but the ship is in his keeping, +and he is never free from the burden. It is the owner who is better +paid--the owner who sits ashore with many servants and turns his money +over." + +"True, but a schooner costs five thousand dollars--an old schooner at +that," I objected. "I should be an old man before I saved five thousand +dollars." + +"There be short ways for white men to make money," he went on, pointing +ashore at the cocoanut-fringed beach. + +We were in the Solomons at the time, picking up a cargo of ivory nuts +along the east coast of Guadalcanar. + +"Between this river mouth and the next it is two miles," he said. + +"The flat land runs far back. It is worth nothing now. Next year--who +knows?--or the year after, men will pay much money for that land. The +anchorage is good. Big steamers can lie close up. You can buy the land +four miles deep from the old chief for ten thousand sticks of tobacco, +ten bottles of square-face, and a Snider, which will cost you, maybe, +one hundred dollars. Then you place the deed with the commissioner; and +the next year, or the year after, you sell and become the owner of a +ship." + +I followed his lead, and his words came true, though in three years, +instead of two. Next came the grasslands deal on Guadalcanar--twenty +thousand acres, on a governmental nine hundred and ninety-nine years' +lease at a nominal sum. I owned the lease for precisely ninety days, +when I sold it to a company for half a fortune. Always it was Otoo who +looked ahead and saw the opportunity. He was responsible for the +salving of the Doncaster--bought in at auction for a hundred pounds, and +clearing three thousand after every expense was paid. He led me into the +Savaii plantation and the cocoa venture on Upolu. + +We did not go seafaring so much as in the old days. I was too well off. +I married, and my standard of living rose; but Otoo remained the same +old-time Otoo, moving about the house or trailing through the office, +his wooden pipe in his mouth, a shilling undershirt on his back, and a +four-shilling lava-lava about his loins. I could not get him to spend +money. There was no way of repaying him except with love, and God knows +he got that in full measure from all of us. The children worshipped +him; and if he had been spoilable, my wife would surely have been his +undoing. + +The children! He really was the one who showed them the way of their +feet in the world practical. He began by teaching them to walk. He sat +up with them when they were sick. One by one, when they were scarcely +toddlers, he took them down to the lagoon, and made them into +amphibians. He taught them more than I ever knew of the habits of fish +and the ways of catching them. In the bush it was the same thing. At +seven, Tom knew more woodcraft than I ever dreamed existed. At six, Mary +went over the Sliding Rock without a quiver, and I have seen strong men +balk at that feat. And when Frank had just turned six he could bring up +shillings from the bottom in three fathoms. + +"My people in Bora Bora do not like heathen--they are all Christians; +and I do not like Bora Bora Christians," he said one day, when I, with +the idea of getting him to spend some of the money that was rightfully +his, had been trying to persuade him to make a visit to his own island +in one of our schooners--a special voyage which I had hoped to make a +record breaker in the matter of prodigal expense. + +I say one of OUR schooners, though legally at the time they belonged to +me. I struggled long with him to enter into partnership. + +"We have been partners from the day the Petite Jeanne went down," +he said at last. "But if your heart so wishes, then shall we become +partners by the law. I have no work to do, yet are my expenses large. I +drink and eat and smoke in plenty--it costs much, I know. I do not pay +for the playing of billiards, for I play on your table; but still the +money goes. Fishing on the reef is only a rich man's pleasure. It is +shocking, the cost of hooks and cotton line. Yes; it is necessary that +we be partners by the law. I need the money. I shall get it from the +head clerk in the office." + +So the papers were made out and recorded. A year later I was compelled +to complain. + +"Charley," said I, "you are a wicked old fraud, a miserly skinflint, +a miserable land crab. Behold, your share for the year in all our +partnership has been thousands of dollars. The head clerk has given me +this paper. It says that in the year you have drawn just eighty-seven +dollars and twenty cents." + +"Is there any owing me?" he asked anxiously. + +"I tell you thousands and thousands," I answered. + +His face brightened, as with an immense relief. + +"It is well," he said. "See that the head clerk keeps good account +of it. When I want it, I shall want it, and there must not be a cent +missing. + +"If there is," he added fiercely, after a pause, "it must come out of +the clerk's wages." + +And all the time, as I afterwards learned, his will, drawn up by +Carruthers, and making me sole beneficiary, lay in the American consul's +safe. + +But the end came, as the end must come to all human associations. + +It occurred in the Solomons, where our wildest work had been done in the +wild young days, and where we were once more--principally on a holiday, +incidentally to look after our holdings on Florida Island and to look +over the pearling possibilities of the Mboli Pass. We were lying at +Savo, having run in to trade for curios. + +Now, Savo is alive with sharks. The custom of the woolly-heads of +burying their dead in the sea did not tend to discourage the sharks from +making the adjacent waters a hangout. It was my luck to be coming aboard +in a tiny, overloaded, native canoe, when the thing capsized. There +were four woolly-heads and myself in it, or rather, hanging to it. The +schooner was a hundred yards away. + +I was just hailing for a boat when one of the woolly-heads began to +scream. Holding on to the end of the canoe, both he and that portion of +the canoe were dragged under several times. Then he loosed his clutch +and disappeared. A shark had got him. + +The three remaining niggers tried to climb out of the water upon the +bottom of the canoe. I yelled and cursed and struck at the nearest with +my fist, but it was no use. They were in a blind funk. The canoe could +barely have supported one of them. Under the three it upended and rolled +sidewise, throwing them back into the water. + +I abandoned the canoe and started to swim toward the schooner, expecting +to be picked up by the boat before I got there. One of the niggers +elected to come with me, and we swam along silently, side by side, now +and again putting our faces into the water and peering about for sharks. +The screams of the man who stayed by the canoe informed us that he was +taken. I was peering into the water when I saw a big shark pass directly +beneath me. He was fully sixteen feet in length. I saw the whole thing. +He got the woolly-head by the middle, and away he went, the poor devil, +head, shoulders, and arms out of the water all the time, screeching in +a heart-rending way. He was carried along in this fashion for several +hundred feet, when he was dragged beneath the surface. + +I swam doggedly on, hoping that that was the last unattached shark. +But there was another. Whether it was one that had attacked the natives +earlier, or whether it was one that had made a good meal elsewhere, I do +not know. At any rate, he was not in such haste as the others. I could +not swim so rapidly now, for a large part of my effort was devoted to +keeping track of him. I was watching him when he made his first attack. +By good luck I got both hands on his nose, and, though his momentum +nearly shoved me under, I managed to keep him off. He veered clear, +and began circling about again. A second time I escaped him by the same +manoeuvre. The third rush was a miss on both sides. He sheered at the +moment my hands should have landed on his nose, but his sandpaper hide +(I had on a sleeveless undershirt) scraped the skin off one arm from +elbow to shoulder. + +By this time I was played out, and gave up hope. The schooner was still +two hundred feet away. My face was in the water, and I was watching him +manoeuvre for another attempt, when I saw a brown body pass between us. +It was Otoo. + +"Swim for the schooner, master!" he said. And he spoke gayly, as though +the affair was a mere lark. "I know sharks. The shark is my brother." + +I obeyed, swimming slowly on, while Otoo swam about me, keeping always +between me and the shark, foiling his rushes and encouraging me. + +"The davit tackle carried away, and they are rigging the falls," he +explained, a minute or so later, and then went under to head off another +attack. + +By the time the schooner was thirty feet away I was about done for. I +could scarcely move. They were heaving lines at us from on board, but +they continually fell short. The shark, finding that it was receiving no +hurt, had become bolder. Several times it nearly got me, but each time +Otoo was there just the moment before it was too late. Of course, Otoo +could have saved himself any time. But he stuck by me. + +"Good-by, Charley! I'm finished!" I just managed to gasp. + +I knew that the end had come, and that the next moment I should throw up +my hands and go down. + +But Otoo laughed in my face, saying: + +"I will show you a new trick. I will make that shark feel sick!" + +He dropped in behind me, where the shark was preparing to come at me. + +"A little more to the left!" he next called out. "There is a line there +on the water. To the left, master--to the left!" + +I changed my course and struck out blindly. I was by that time barely +conscious. As my hand closed on the line I heard an exclamation from on +board. I turned and looked. There was no sign of Otoo. The next instant +he broke surface. Both hands were off at the wrist, the stumps spouting +blood. + +"Otoo!" he called softly. And I could see in his gaze the love that +thrilled in his voice. + +Then, and then only, at the very last of all our years, he called me by +that name. + +"Good-by, Otoo!" he called. + +Then he was dragged under, and I was hauled aboard, where I fainted in +the captain's arms. + +And so passed Otoo, who saved me and made me a man, and who saved me in +the end. We met in the maw of a hurricane, and parted in the maw of +a shark, with seventeen intervening years of comradeship, the like of +which I dare to assert has never befallen two men, the one brown and the +other white. If Jehovah be from His high place watching every sparrow +fall, not least in His kingdom shall be Otoo, the one heathen of Bora +Bora. + + + + +THE TERRIBLE SOLOMONS + +There is no gainsaying that the Solomons are a hard-bitten bunch of +islands. On the other hand, there are worse places in the world. But to +the new chum who has no constitutional understanding of men and life in +the rough, the Solomons may indeed prove terrible. + +It is true that fever and dysentery are perpetually on the walk-about, +that loathsome skin diseases abound, that the air is saturated with a +poison that bites into every pore, cut, or abrasion and plants malignant +ulcers, and that many strong men who escape dying there return as wrecks +to their own countries. It is also true that the natives of the Solomons +are a wild lot, with a hearty appetite for human flesh and a fad for +collecting human heads. Their highest instinct of sportsmanship is to +catch a man with his back turned and to smite him a cunning blow with a +tomahawk that severs the spinal column at the base of the brain. It is +equally true that on some islands, such as Malaita, the profit and loss +account of social intercourse is calculated in homicides. Heads are a +medium of exchange, and white heads are extremely valuable. Very often a +dozen villages make a jack-pot, which they fatten moon by moon, against +the time when some brave warrior presents a white man's head, fresh and +gory, and claims the pot. + +All the foregoing is quite true, and yet there are white men who have +lived in the Solomons a score of years and who feel homesick when they +go away from them. A man needs only to be careful--and lucky--to live +a long time in the Solomons; but he must also be of the right sort. +He must have the hallmark of the inevitable white man stamped upon his +soul. He must be inevitable. He must have a certain grand carelessness +of odds, a certain colossal self-satisfaction, and a racial egotism that +convinces him that one white is better than a thousand niggers every +day in the week, and that on Sunday he is able to clean out two +thousand niggers. For such are the things that have made the white man +inevitable. Oh, and one other thing--the white man who wishes to be +inevitable, must not merely despise the lesser breeds and think a lot +of himself; he must also fail to be too long on imagination. He must not +understand too well the instincts, customs, and mental processes of the +blacks, the yellows, and the browns; for it is not in such fashion that +the white race has tramped its royal road around the world. + +Bertie Arkwright was not inevitable. He was too sensitive, too finely +strung, and he possessed too much imagination. The world was too much +with him. He projected himself too quiveringly into his environment. +Therefore, the last place in the world for him to come was the Solomons. +He did not come, expecting to stay. A five weeks' stop-over between +steamers, he decided, would satisfy the call of the primitive he felt +thrumming the strings of his being. At least, so he told the lady +tourists on the MAKEMBO, though in different terms; and they worshipped +him as a hero, for they were lady tourists and they would know only +the safety of the steamer's deck as she threaded her way through the +Solomons. + +There was another man on board, of whom the ladies took no notice. He +was a little shriveled wisp of a man, with a withered skin the color of +mahogany. His name on the passenger list does not matter, but his other +name, Captain Malu, was a name for niggers to conjure with, and to +scare naughty pickaninnies to righteousness from New Hanover to the +New Hebrides. He had farmed savages and savagery, and from fever and +hardship, the crack of Sniders and the lash of the overseers, had +wrested five millions of money in the form of beche-de-mer, sandalwood, +pearl-shell and turtle-shell, ivory nuts and copra, grasslands, trading +stations, and plantations. Captain Malu's little finger, which was +broken, had more inevitableness in it than Bertie Arkwright's whole +carcass. But then, the lady tourists had nothing by which to judge save +appearances, and Bertie certainly was a fine-looking man. + +Bertie talked with Captain Malu in the smoking room, confiding to him +his intention of seeing life red and bleeding in the Solomons. Captain +Malu agreed that the intention was ambitious and honorable. It was not +until several days later that he became interested in Bertie, when that +young adventurer insisted on showing him an automatic 44-caliber pistol. +Bertie explained the mechanism and demonstrated by slipping a loaded +magazine up the hollow butt. + +"It is so simple," he said. He shot the outer barrel back along the +inner one. "That loads it and cocks it, you see. And then all I have to +do is pull the trigger, eight times, as fast as I can quiver my finger. +See that safety clutch. That's what I like about it. It is safe. It is +positively fool-proof." He slipped out the magazine. "You see how safe +it is." + +As he held it in his hand, the muzzle came in line with Captain Malu's +stomach. Captain Malu's blue eyes looked at it unswervingly. + +"Would you mind pointing it in some other direction?" he asked. + +"It's perfectly safe," Bertie assured him. "I withdrew the magazine. +It's not loaded now, you know." + +"A gun is always loaded." + +"But this one isn't." + +"Turn it away just the same." + +Captain Malu's voice was flat and metallic and low, but his eyes never +left the muzzle until the line of it was drawn past him and away from +him. + +"I'll bet a fiver it isn't loaded," Bertie proposed warmly. + +The other shook his head. + +"Then I'll show you." + +Bertie started to put the muzzle to his own temple with the evident +intention of pulling the trigger. + +"Just a second," Captain Malu said quietly, reaching out his hand. "Let +me look at it." + +He pointed it seaward and pulled the trigger. A heavy explosion +followed, instantaneous with the sharp click of the mechanism that +flipped a hot and smoking cartridge sidewise along the deck. + +Bertie's jaw dropped in amazement. + +"I slipped the barrel back once, didn't I?" he explained. "It was silly +of me, I must say." + +He giggled flabbily, and sat down in a steamer chair. The blood had +ebbed from his face, exposing dark circles under his eyes. His hands +were trembling and unable to guide the shaking cigarette to his lips. +The world was too much with him, and he saw himself with dripping brains +prone upon the deck. + +"Really," he said, "... really." + +"It's a pretty weapon," said Captain Malu, returning the automatic to +him. + +The Commissioner was on board the Makembo, returning from Sydney, and by +his permission a stop was made at Ugi to land a missionary. And at Ugi +lay the ketch ARLA, Captain Hansen, skipper. Now the Arla was one of +many vessels owned by Captain Malu, and it was at his suggestion and +by his invitation that Bertie went aboard the Arla as guest for a four +days' recruiting cruise on the coast of Malaita. Thereafter the ARLA +would drop him at Reminge Plantation (also owned by Captain Malu), where +Bertie could remain for a week, and then be sent over to Tulagi, the +seat of government, where he would become the Commissioner's guest. +Captain Malu was responsible for two other suggestions, which given, he +disappears from this narrative. One was to Captain Hansen, the other +to Mr. Harriwell, manager of Reminge Plantation. Both suggestions were +similar in tenor, namely, to give Mr. Bertram Arkwright an insight into +the rawness and redness of life in the Solomons. Also, it is whispered +that Captain Malu mentioned that a case of Scotch would be +coincidental with any particularly gorgeous insight Mr. Arkwright might +receive............. + +"Yes, Swartz always was too pig-headed. You see, he took four of his +boat's crew to Tulagi to be flogged--officially, you know--then started +back with them in the whaleboat. It was pretty squally, and the boat +capsized just outside. Swartz was the only one drowned. Of course, it +was an accident." + +"Was it? Really?" Bertie asked, only half-interested, staring hard at +the black man at the wheel. + +Ugi had dropped astern, and the ARLA was sliding along through a summer +sea toward the wooded ranges of Malaita. The helmsman who so attracted +Bertie's eyes sported a ten penny nail, stuck skewerwise through his +nose. About his neck was a string of pants buttons. Thrust through holes +in his ears were a can opener, the broken handle of a toothbrush, a clay +pipe, the brass wheel of an alarm clock, and several Winchester rifle +cartridges. + +On his chest, suspended from around his neck hung the half of a china +plate. Some forty similarly appareled blacks lay about the deck, fifteen +of which were boat's crew, the remainder being fresh labor recruits. + +"Of course it was an accident," spoke up the ARLA'S mate, Jacobs, +a slender, dark-eyed man who looked more a professor than a sailor. +"Johnny Bedip nearly had the same kind of accident. He was bringing back +several from a flogging, when they capsized him. But he knew how to swim +as well as they, and two of them were drowned. He used a boat stretcher +and a revolver. Of course it was an accident." + +"Quite common, them accidents," remarked the skipper. "You see that man +at the wheel, Mr. Arkwright? He's a man eater. Six months ago, he and +the rest of the boat's crew drowned the then captain of the ARLA. They +did it on deck, sir, right aft there by the mizzen-traveler." + +"The deck was in a shocking state," said the mate. + +"Do I understand--?" Bertie began. + +"Yes, just that," said Captain Hansen. "It was an accidental drowning." + +"But on deck--?" + +"Just so. I don't mind telling you, in confidence, of course, that they +used an axe." + +"This present crew of yours?" + +Captain Hansen nodded. + +"The other skipper always was too careless," explained the mate. "He but +just turned his back, when they let him have it." + +"We haven't any show down here," was the skipper's complaint. "The +government protects a nigger against a white every time. You can't shoot +first. You've got to give the nigger first shot, or else the government +calls it murder and you go to Fiji. That's why there's so many drowning +accidents." + +Dinner was called, and Bertie and the skipper went below, leaving the +mate to watch on deck. + +"Keep an eye out for that black devil, Auiki," was the skipper's parting +caution. "I haven't liked his looks for several days." + +"Right O," said the mate. + +Dinner was part way along, and the skipper was in the middle of his +story of the cutting out of the Scottish Chiefs. + +"Yes," he was saying, "she was the finest vessel on the coast. But when +she missed stays, and before ever she hit the reef, the canoes started +for her. There were five white men, a crew of twenty Santa Cruz boys +and Samoans, and only the supercargo escaped. Besides, there were sixty +recruits. They were all kai-kai'd. Kai-kai?--oh, I beg your pardon. +I mean they were eaten. Then there was the James Edwards, a +dandy-rigged--" + +But at that moment there was a sharp oath from the mate on deck and a +chorus of savage cries. A revolver went off three times, and then was +heard a loud splash. Captain Hansen had sprung up the companionway on +the instant, and Bertie's eyes had been fascinated by a glimpse of him +drawing his revolver as he sprang. + +Bertie went up more circumspectly, hesitating before he put his head +above the companionway slide. But nothing happened. The mate was +shaking with excitement, his revolver in his hand. Once he startled, and +half-jumped around, as if danger threatened his back. + +"One of the natives fell overboard," he was saying, in a queer tense +voice. "He couldn't swim." + +"Who was it?" the skipper demanded. + +"Auiki," was the answer. + +"But I say, you know, I heard shots," Bertie said, in trembling +eagerness, for he scented adventure, and adventure that was happily over +with. + +The mate whirled upon him, snarling: + +"It's a damned lie. There ain't been a shot fired. The nigger fell +overboard." + +Captain Hansen regarded Bertie with unblinking, lack-luster eyes. + +"I--I thought--" Bertie was beginning. + +"Shots?" said Captain Hansen, dreamily. "Shots? Did you hear any shots, +Mr. Jacobs?" + +"Not a shot," replied Mr. Jacobs. + +The skipper looked at his guest triumphantly, and said: + +"Evidently an accident. Let us go down, Mr. Arkwright, and finish +dinner." + +Bertie slept that night in the captain's cabin, a tiny stateroom off the +main cabin. The for'ard bulkhead was decorated with a stand of rifles. +Over the bunk were three more rifles. Under the bunk was a big drawer, +which, when he pulled it out, he found filled with ammunition, dynamite, +and several boxes of detonators. He elected to take the settee on the +opposite side. Lying conspicuously on the small table, was the Arla's +log. Bertie did not know that it had been especially prepared for the +occasion by Captain Malu, and he read therein how on September 21, two +boat's crew had fallen overboard and been drowned. Bertie read between +the lines and knew better. He read how the Arla's whale boat had +been bushwhacked at Su'u and had lost three men; of how the skipper +discovered the cook stewing human flesh on the galley fire--flesh +purchased by the boat's crew ashore in Fui; of how an accidental +discharge of dynamite, while signaling, had killed another boat's crew; +of night attacks; ports fled from between the dawns; attacks by bushmen +in mangrove swamps and by fleets of salt-water men in the larger +passages. One item that occurred with monotonous frequency was death by +dysentery. He noticed with alarm that two white men had so died--guests, +like himself, on the Arla. + +"I say, you know," Bertie said next day to Captain Hansen. "I've been +glancing through your log." + +The skipper displayed quick vexation that the log had been left lying +about. + +"And all that dysentery, you know, that's all rot, just like the +accidental drownings," Bertie continued. "What does dysentery really +stand for?" + +The skipper openly admired his guest's acumen, stiffened himself to make +indignant denial, then gracefully surrendered. + +"You see, it's like this, Mr. Arkwright. These islands have got a bad +enough name as it is. It's getting harder every day to sign on white +men. Suppose a man is killed. The company has to pay through the nose +for another man to take the job. But if the man merely dies of sickness, +it's all right. The new chums don't mind disease. What they draw the +line at is being murdered. I thought the skipper of the Arla had died of +dysentery when I took his billet. Then it was too late. I'd signed the +contract." + +"Besides," said Mr. Jacobs, "there's altogether too many accidental +drownings anyway. It don't look right. It's the fault of the government. +A white man hasn't a chance to defend himself from the niggers." + +"Yes, look at the Princess and that Yankee mate," the skipper took up +the tale. "She carried five white men besides a government agent. The +captain, the agent, and the supercargo were ashore in the two boats. +They were killed to the last man. The mate and boson, with about fifteen +of the crew--Samoans and Tongans--were on board. A crowd of niggers came +off from shore. First thing the mate knew, the boson and the crew were +killed in the first rush. The mate grabbed three cartridge belts and two +Winchesters and skinned up to the cross-trees. He was the sole survivor, +and you can't blame him for being mad. He pumped one rifle till it got +so hot he couldn't hold it, then he pumped the other. The deck was black +with niggers. He cleaned them out. He dropped them as they went over the +rail, and he dropped them as fast as they picked up their paddles. Then +they jumped into the water and started to swim for it, and being mad, he +got half a dozen more. And what did he get for it?" + +"Seven years in Fiji," snapped the mate. + +"The government said he wasn't justified in shooting after they'd taken +to the water," the skipper explained. + +"And that's why they die of dysentery nowadays," the mate added. + +"Just fancy," said Bertie, as he felt a longing for the cruise to be +over. + +Later on in the day he interviewed the black who had been pointed out +to him as a cannibal. This fellow's name was Sumasai. He had spent three +years on a Queensland plantation. He had been to Samoa, and Fiji, and +Sydney; and as a boat's crew had been on recruiting schooners through +New Britain, New Ireland, New Guinea, and the Admiralties. Also, he was +a wag, and he had taken a line on his skipper's conduct. Yes, he had +eaten many men. How many? He could not remember the tally. Yes, white +men, too; they were very good, unless they were sick. He had once eaten +a sick one. + +"My word!" he cried, at the recollection. "Me sick plenty along him. My +belly walk about too much." + +Bertie shuddered, and asked about heads. Yes, Sumasai had several hidden +ashore, in good condition, sun-dried, and smoke-cured. One was of the +captain of a schooner. It had long whiskers. He would sell it for +two quid. Black men's heads he would sell for one quid. He had some +pickaninny heads, in poor condition, that he would let go for ten bob. + +Five minutes afterward, Bertie found himself sitting on the +companionway-slide alongside a black with a horrible skin disease. He +sheered off, and on inquiry was told that it was leprosy. He hurried +below and washed himself with antiseptic soap. He took many antiseptic +washes in the course of the day, for every native on board was afflicted +with malignant ulcers of one sort or another. + +As the Arla drew in to an anchorage in the midst of mangrove swamps, +a double row of barbed wire was stretched around above her rail. That +looked like business, and when Bertie saw the shore canoes alongside, +armed with spears, bows and arrows, and Sniders, he wished more +earnestly than ever that the cruise was over. + +That evening the natives were slow in leaving the ship at sundown. A +number of them checked the mate when he ordered them ashore. "Never +mind, I'll fix them," said Captain Hansen, diving below. + +When he came back, he showed Bertie a stick of dynamite attached to a +fish hook. Now it happens that a paper-wrapped bottle of chlorodyne with +a piece of harmless fuse projecting can fool anybody. It fooled Bertie, +and it fooled the natives. When Captain Hansen lighted the fuse and +hooked the fish hook into the tail end of a native's loin cloth, that +native was smitten with so an ardent a desire for the shore that he +forgot to shed the loin cloth. He started for'ard, the fuse sizzling and +spluttering at his rear, the natives in his path taking headers over the +barbed wire at every jump. Bertie was horror-stricken. So was Captain +Hansen. He had forgotten his twenty-five recruits, on each of which he +had paid thirty shillings advance. They went over the side along with +the shore-dwelling folk and followed by him who trailed the sizzling +chlorodyne bottle. + +Bertie did not see the bottle go off; but the mate opportunely +discharging a stick of real dynamite aft where it would harm nobody, +Bertie would have sworn in any admiralty court to a nigger blown to +flinders. The flight of the twenty-five recruits had actually cost the +Arla forty pounds, and, since they had taken to the bush, there was no +hope of recovering them. The skipper and his mate proceeded to drown +their sorrow in cold tea. + +The cold tea was in whiskey bottles, so Bertie did not know it was cold +tea they were mopping up. All he knew was that the two men got very +drunk and argued eloquently and at length as to whether the exploded +nigger should be reported as a case of dysentery or as an accidental +drowning. When they snored off to sleep, he was the only white man left, +and he kept a perilous watch till dawn, in fear of an attack from shore +and an uprising of the crew. + +Three more days the Arla spent on the coast, and three more nights the +skipper and the mate drank overfondly of cold tea, leaving Bertie +to keep the watch. They knew he could be depended upon, while he was +equally certain that if he lived, he would report their drunken conduct +to Captain Malu. Then the Arla dropped anchor at Reminge Plantation, on +Guadalcanar, and Bertie landed on the beach with a sigh of relief and +shook hands with the manager. Mr. Harriwell was ready for him. + +"Now you mustn't be alarmed if some of our fellows seem downcast," Mr. +Harriwell said, having drawn him aside in confidence. "There's been talk +of an outbreak, and two or three suspicious signs I'm willing to admit, +but personally I think it's all poppycock." + +"How--how many blacks have you on the plantation?" Bertie asked, with a +sinking heart. + +"We're working four hundred just now," replied Mr. Harriwell, +cheerfully; "but the three of us, with you, of course, and the skipper +and mate of the Arla, can handle them all right." + +Bertie turned to meet one McTavish, the storekeeper, who scarcely +acknowledged the introduction, such was his eagerness to present his +resignation. + +"It being that I'm a married man, Mr. Harriwell, I can't very well +afford to remain on longer. Trouble is working up, as plain as the +nose on your face. The niggers are going to break out, and there'll be +another Hohono horror here." + +"What's a Hohono horror?" Bertie asked, after the storekeeper had been +persuaded to remain until the end of the month. + +"Oh, he means Hohono Plantation, on Ysabel," said the manager. "The +niggers killed the five white men ashore, captured the schooner, killed +the captain and mate, and escaped in a body to Malaita. But I always +said they were careless on Hohono. They won't catch us napping here. +Come along, Mr. Arkwright, and see our view from the veranda." + +Bertie was too busy wondering how he could get away to Tulagi to the +Commissioner's house, to see much of the view. He was still wondering, +when a rifle exploded very near to him, behind his back. At the same +moment his arm was nearly dislocated, so eagerly did Mr. Harriwell drag +him indoors. + +"I say, old man, that was a close shave," said the manager, pawing him +over to see if he had been hit. "I can't tell you how sorry I am. But it +was broad daylight, and I never dreamed." + +Bertie was beginning to turn pale. + +"They got the other manager that way," McTavish vouchsafed. "And a +dashed fine chap he was. Blew his brains out all over the veranda. You +noticed that dark stain there between the steps and the door?" + +Bertie was ripe for the cocktail which Mr. Harriwell pitched in and +compounded for him; but before he could drink it, a man in riding +trousers and puttees entered. + +"What's the matter now?" the manager asked, after one look at the +newcomer's face. "Is the river up again?" + +"River be blowed--it's the niggers. Stepped out of the cane grass, not +a dozen feet away, and whopped at me. It was a Snider, and he shot from +the hip. Now what I want to know is where'd he get that Snider?--Oh, I +beg pardon. Glad to know you, Mr. Arkwright." + +"Mr. Brown is my assistant," explained Mr. Harriwell. "And now let's +have that drink." + +"But where'd he get that Snider?" Mr. Brown insisted. "I always objected +to keeping those guns on the premises." + +"They're still there," Mr. Harriwell said, with a show of heat. + +Mr. Brown smiled incredulously. + +"Come along and see," said the manager. + +Bertie joined the procession into the office, where Mr. Harriwell +pointed triumphantly at a big packing case in a dusty corner. + +"Well, then where did the beggar get that Snider?" harped Mr. Brown. + +But just then McTavish lifted the packing case. The manager started, +then tore off the lid. The case was empty. They gazed at one another in +horrified silence. Harriwell drooped wearily. + +Then McVeigh cursed. + +"What I contended all along--the house-boys are not to be trusted." + +"It does look serious," Harriwell admitted, "but we'll come through it +all right. What the sanguinary niggers need is a shaking up. Will you +gentlemen please bring your rifles to dinner, and will you, Mr. Brown, +kindly prepare forty or fifty sticks of dynamite. Make the fuses good +and short. We'll give them a lesson. And now, gentlemen, dinner is +served." + +One thing that Bertie detested was rice and curry, so it happened that +he alone partook of an inviting omelet. He had quite finished his plate, +when Harriwell helped himself to the omelet. One mouthful he tasted, +then spat out vociferously. + +"That's the second time," McTavish announced ominously. + +Harriwell was still hawking and spitting. + +"Second time, what?" Bertie quavered. + +"Poison," was the answer. "That cook will be hanged yet." + +"That's the way the bookkeeper went out at Cape March," Brown spoke up. +"Died horribly. They said on the Jessie that they heard him screaming +three miles away." + +"I'll put the cook in irons," sputtered Harriwell. "Fortunately we +discovered it in time." + +Bertie sat paralyzed. There was no color in his face. He attempted to +speak, but only an inarticulate gurgle resulted. All eyed him anxiously. + +"Don't say it, don't say it," McTavish cried in a tense voice. + +"Yes, I ate it, plenty of it, a whole plateful!" Bertie cried +explosively, like a diver suddenly regaining breath. + +The awful silence continued half a minute longer, and he read his fate +in their eyes. + +"Maybe it wasn't poison after all," said Harriwell, dismally. + +"Call in the cook," said Brown. + +In came the cook, a grinning black boy, nose-spiked and ear-plugged. + +"Here, you, Wi-wi, what name that?" Harriwell bellowed, pointing +accusingly at the omelet. + +Wi-wi was very naturally frightened and embarrassed. + +"Him good fella kai-kai," he murmured apologetically. + +"Make him eat it," suggested McTavish. "That's a proper test." + +Harriwell filled a spoon with the stuff and jumped for the cook, who +fled in panic. + +"That settles it," was Brown's solemn pronouncement. "He won't eat it." + +"Mr. Brown, will you please go and put the irons on him?" Harriwell +turned cheerfully to Bertie. "It's all right, old man, the Commissioner +will deal with him, and if you die, depend upon it, he will be hanged." + +"Don't think the government'll do it," objected McTavish. + +"But gentlemen, gentlemen," Bertie cried. "In the meantime think of me." + +Harriwell shrugged his shoulders pityingly. + +"Sorry, old man, but it's a native poison, and there are no known +antidotes for native poisons. Try and compose yourself and if--" + +Two sharp reports of a rifle from without, interrupted the discourse, +and Brown, entering, reloaded his rifle and sat down to table. + +"The cook's dead," he said. "Fever. A rather sudden attack." + +"I was just telling Mr. Arkwright that there are no antidotes for native +poisons--" + +"Except gin," said Brown. + +Harriwell called himself an absent-minded idiot and rushed for the gin +bottle. + +"Neat, man, neat," he warned Bertie, who gulped down a tumbler +two-thirds full of the raw spirits, and coughed and choked from the +angry bite of it till the tears ran down his cheeks. + +Harriwell took his pulse and temperature, made a show of looking out for +him, and doubted that the omelet had been poisoned. Brown and McTavish +also doubted; but Bertie discerned an insincere ring in their voices. +His appetite had left him, and he took his own pulse stealthily under +the table. There was no question but what it was increasing, but he +failed to ascribe it to the gin he had taken. McTavish, rifle in hand, +went out on the veranda to reconnoiter. + +"They're massing up at the cook-house," was his report. "And they've no +end of Sniders. My idea is to sneak around on the other side and take +them in flank. Strike the first blow, you know. Will you come along, +Brown?" + +Harriwell ate on steadily, while Bertie discovered that his pulse had +leaped up five beats. Nevertheless, he could not help jumping when the +rifles began to go off. Above the scattering of Sniders could be +heard the pumping of Brown's and McTavish's Winchesters--all against a +background of demoniacal screeching and yelling. + +"They've got them on the run," Harriwell remarked, as voices and +gunshots faded away in the distance. + +Scarcely were Brown and McTavish back at the table when the latter +reconnoitered. + +"They've got dynamite," he said. + +"Then let's charge them with dynamite," Harriwell proposed. + +Thrusting half a dozen sticks each into their pockets and equipping +themselves with lighted cigars, they started for the door. And just then +it happened. They blamed McTavish for it afterward, and he admitted +that the charge had been a trifle excessive. But at any rate it went +off under the house, which lifted up cornerwise and settled back on +its foundations. Half the china on the table was shattered, while the +eight-day clock stopped. Yelling for vengeance, the three men rushed out +into the night, and the bombardment began. + +When they returned, there was no Bertie. He had dragged himself away +to the office, barricaded himself in, and sunk upon the floor in a +gin-soaked nightmare, wherein he died a thousand deaths while the +valorous fight went on around him. In the morning, sick and headachey +from the gin, he crawled out to find the sun still in the sky and God +presumable in heaven, for his hosts were alive and uninjured. + +Harriwell pressed him to stay on longer, but Bertie insisted on sailing +immediately on the Arla for Tulagi, where, until the following steamer +day, he stuck close by the Commissioner's house. There were lady +tourists on the outgoing steamer, and Bertie was again a hero, while +Captain Malu, as usual, passed unnoticed. But Captain Malu sent back +from Sydney two cases of the best Scotch whiskey on the market, for he +was not able to make up his mind as to whether it was Captain Hansen or +Mr Harriwell who had given Bertie Arkwright the more gorgeous insight +into life in the Solomons. + + + + +THE INEVITABLE WHITE MAN + +"The black will never understand the white, nor the white the black, as +long as black is black and white is white." + +So said Captain Woodward. We sat in the parlor of Charley Roberts' pub +in Apia, drinking long Abu Hameds compounded and shared with us by the +aforesaid Charley Roberts, who claimed the recipe direct from Stevens, +famous for having invented the Abu Hamed at a time when he was spurred +on by Nile thirst--the Stevens who was responsible for "With Kitchener +to Kartoun," and who passed out at the siege of Ladysmith. + +Captain Woodward, short and squat, elderly, burned by forty years of +tropic sun, and with the most beautiful liquid brown eyes I ever saw in +a man, spoke from a vast experience. The crisscross of scars on his bald +pate bespoke a tomahawk intimacy with the black, and of equal intimacy +was the advertisement, front and rear, on the right side of his neck, +where an arrow had at one time entered and been pulled clean through. As +he explained, he had been in a hurry on that occasion--the arrow impeded +his running--and he felt that he could not take the time to break off +the head and pull out the shaft the way it had come in. At the present +moment he was commander of the SAVAII, the big steamer that recruited +labor from the westward for the German plantations on Samoa. + +"Half the trouble is the stupidity of the whites," said Roberts, +pausing to take a swig from his glass and to curse the Samoan bar-boy +in affectionate terms. "If the white man would lay himself out a bit +to understand the workings of the black man's mind, most of the messes +would be avoided." + +"I've seen a few who claimed they understood niggers," Captain Woodward +retorted, "and I always took notice that they were the first to be +kai-kai'd (eaten). Look at the missionaries in New Guinea and the New +Hebrides--the martyr isle of Erromanga and all the rest. Look at the +Austrian expedition that was cut to pieces in the Solomons, in the bush +of Guadalcanar. And look at the traders themselves, with a score of +years' experience, making their brag that no nigger would ever get them, +and whose heads to this day are ornamenting the rafters of the canoe +houses. There was old Johnny Simons--twenty-six years on the raw edges +of Melanesia, swore he knew the niggers like a book and that they'd +never do for him, and he passed out at Marovo Lagoon, New Georgia, had +his head sawed off by a black Mary (woman) and an old nigger with only +one leg, having left the other leg in the mouth of a shark while diving +for dynamited fish. There was Billy Watts, horrible reputation as +a nigger killer, a man to scare the devil. I remember lying at Cape +Little, New Ireland you know, when the niggers stole half a case of +trade-tobacco--cost him about three dollars and a half. In retaliation +he turned out, shot six niggers, smashed up their war canoes and burned +two villages. And it was at Cape Little, four years afterward, that +he was jumped along with fifty Buku boys he had with him fishing +beche-de-mer. In five minutes they were all dead, with the exception of +three boys who got away in a canoe. Don't talk to me about understanding +the nigger. The white man's mission is to farm the world, and it's a +big enough job cut out for him. What time has he got left to understand +niggers anyway?" + +"Just so," said Roberts. "And somehow it doesn't seem necessary, after +all, to understand the niggers. In direct proportion to the white man's +stupidity is his success in farming the world--" + +"And putting the fear of God into the nigger's heart," Captain Woodward +blurted out. "Perhaps you're right, Roberts. Perhaps it's his stupidity +that makes him succeed, and surely one phase of his stupidity is his +inability to understand the niggers. But there's one thing sure, the +white has to run the niggers whether he understands them or not. It's +inevitable. It's fate." + +"And of course the white man is inevitable--it's the niggers' fate," +Roberts broke in. "Tell the white man there's pearl shell in some lagoon +infested by ten-thousand howling cannibals, and he'll head there all by +his lonely, with half a dozen kanaka divers and a tin alarm clock for +chronometer, all packed like sardines on a commodious, five-ton ketch. +Whisper that there's a gold strike at the North Pole, and that same +inevitable white-skinned creature will set out at once, armed with pick +and shovel, a side of bacon, and the latest patent rocker--and what's +more, he'll get there. Tip it off to him that there's diamonds on the +red-hot ramparts of hell, and Mr. White Man will storm the ramparts +and set old Satan himself to pick-and-shovel work. That's what comes of +being stupid and inevitable." + +"But I wonder what the black man must think of the--the inevitableness," +I said. + +Captain Woodward broke into quiet laughter. His eyes had a reminiscent +gleam. + +"I'm just wondering what the niggers of Malu thought and still must be +thinking of the one inevitable white man we had on board when we visited +them in the DUCHESS," he explained. + +Roberts mixed three more Abu Hameds. + +"That was twenty years ago. Saxtorph was his name. He was certainly the +most stupid man I ever saw, but he was as inevitable as death. There was +only one thing that chap could do, and that was shoot. I remember the +first time I ran into him--right here in Apia, twenty years ago. That +was before your time, Roberts. I was sleeping at Dutch Henry's hotel, +down where the market is now. Ever heard of him? He made a tidy stake +smuggling arms in to the rebels, sold out his hotel, and was killed in +Sydney just six weeks afterward in a saloon row. + +"But Saxtorph. One night I'd just got to sleep, when a couple of cats +began to sing in the courtyard. It was out of bed and up window, water +jug in hand. But just then I heard the window of the next room go up. +Two shots were fired, and the window was closed. I fail to impress you +with the celerity of the transaction. Ten seconds at the outside. Up +went the window, bang bang went the revolver, and down went the window. +Whoever it was, he had never stopped to see the effect of his shots. He +knew. Do you follow me?--he KNEW. There was no more cat concert, and in +the morning there lay the two offenders, stone dead. It was marvelous +to me. It still is marvelous. First, it was starlight, and Saxtorph shot +without drawing a bead; next, he shot so rapidly that the two reports +were like a double report; and finally, he knew he had hit his marks +without looking to see. + +"Two days afterward he came on board to see me. I was mate, then, on +the Duchess, a whacking big one-hundred-and fifty-ton schooner, a +blackbirder. And let me tell you that blackbirders were blackbirders in +those days. There weren't any government protection for US, either. It +was rough work, give and take, if we were finished, and nothing said, +and we ran niggers from every south sea island they didn't kick us off +from. Well, Saxtorph came on board, John Saxtorph was the name he gave. +He was a sandy little man, hair sandy, complexion sandy, and eyes sandy, +too. Nothing striking about him. His soul was as neutral as his color +scheme. He said he was strapped and wanted to ship on board. Would go +cabin boy, cook, supercargo, or common sailor. Didn't know anything +about any of the billets, but said that he was willing to learn. I +didn't want him, but his shooting had so impressed me that I took him as +common sailor, wages three pounds per month. + +"He was willing to learn all right, I'll say that much. But he was +constitutionally unable to learn anything. He could no more box the +compass than I could mix drinks like Roberts here. And as for steering, +he gave me my first gray hairs. I never dared risk him at the wheel when +we were running in a big sea, while full-and-by and close-and-by were +insoluble mysteries. Couldn't ever tell the difference between a sheet +and a tackle, simply couldn't. The fore-throat-jig and the jib-jig were +all one to him. Tell him to slack off the mainsheet, and before you know +it, he'd drop the peak. He fell overboard three times, and he couldn't +swim. But he was always cheerful, never seasick, and he was the most +willing man I ever knew. He was an uncommunicative soul. Never talked +about himself. His history, so far as we were concerned, began the day +he signed on the DUCHESS. Where he learned to shoot, the stars alone can +tell. He was a Yankee--that much we knew from the twang in his speech. +And that was all we ever did know. + +"And now we begin to get to the point. We had bad luck in the New +Hebrides, only fourteen boys for five weeks, and we ran up before the +southeast for the Solomons. Malaita, then as now, was good recruiting +ground, and we ran into Malu, on the northwestern corner. There's a +shore reef and an outer reef, and a mighty nervous anchorage; but we +made it all right and fired off our dynamite as a signal to the niggers +to come down and be recruited. In three days we got not a boy. The +niggers came off to us in their canoes by hundreds, but they only +laughed when we showed them beads and calico and hatchets and talked of +the delights of plantation work in Samoa. + +"On the fourth day there came a change. Fifty-odd boys signed on and +were billeted in the main-hold, with the freedom of the deck, of course. +And of course, looking back, this wholesale signing on was suspicious, +but at the time we thought some powerful chief had removed the ban +against recruiting. The morning of the fifth day our two boats went +ashore as usual--one to cover the other, you know, in case of trouble. +And, as usual, the fifty niggers on board were on deck, loafing, +talking, smoking, and sleeping. Saxtorph and myself, along with four +other sailors, were all that were left on board. The two boats were +manned with Gilbert Islanders. In the one were the captain, the +supercargo, and the recruiter. In the other, which was the covering boat +and which lay off shore a hundred yards, was the second mate. Both boats +were well-armed, though trouble was little expected. + +"Four of the sailors, including Saxtorph, were scraping the poop rail. +The fifth sailor, rifle in hand, was standing guard by the water-tank +just for'ard of the mainmast. I was for'ard, putting in the finishing +licks on a new jaw for the fore-gaff. I was just reaching for my pipe +where I had laid it down, when I heard a shot from shore. I straightened +up to look. Something struck me on the back of the head, partially +stunning me and knocking me to the deck. My first thought was that +something had carried away aloft; but even as I went down, and before +I struck the deck, I heard the devil's own tattoo of rifles from the +boats, and twisting sidewise, I caught a glimpse of the sailor who +was standing guard. Two big niggers were holding his arms, and a third +nigger from behind was braining him with a tomahawk. + +"I can see it now, the water-tank, the mainmast, the gang hanging on to +him, the hatchet descending on the back of his head, and all under the +blazing sunlight. I was fascinated by that growing vision of death. +The tomahawk seemed to take a horribly long time to come down. I saw it +land, and the man's legs give under him as he crumpled. The niggers held +him up by sheer strength while he was hacked a couple of times more. +Then I got two more hacks on the head and decided that I was dead. So +did the brute that was hacking me. I was too helpless to move, and I lay +there and watched them removing the sentry's head. I must say they did +it slick enough. They were old hands at the business. + +"The rifle firing from the boats had ceased, and I made no doubt that +they were finished off and that the end had come to everything. It was +only a matter of moments when they would return for my head. They were +evidently taking the heads from the sailors aft. Heads are valuable on +Malaita, especially white heads. They have the place of honor in the +canoe houses of the salt-water natives. What particular decorative +effect the bushmen get out of them I didn't know, but they prize them +just as much as the salt-water crowd. + +"I had a dim notion of escaping, and I crawled on hands and knees to +the winch, where I managed to drag myself to my feet. From there I +could look aft and see three heads on top the cabin--the heads of three +sailors I had given orders to for months. The niggers saw me standing, +and started for me. I reached for my revolver, and found they had taken +it. I can't say that I was scared. I've been near to death several +times, but it never seemed easier than right then. I was half-stunned, +and nothing seemed to matter. + +"The leading nigger had armed himself with a cleaver from the galley, +and he grimaced like an ape as he prepared to slice me down. But the +slice was never made. He went down on the deck all of a heap, and I saw +the blood gush from his mouth. In a dim way I heard a rifle go off and +continue to go off. Nigger after nigger went down. My senses began to +clear, and I noted that there was never a miss. Every time that the +rifle went off a nigger dropped. I sat down on deck beside the winch and +looked up. Perched in the crosstrees was Saxtorph. How he had managed +it I can't imagine, for he had carried up with him two Winchesters and +I don't know how many bandoliers of ammunition; and he was now doing the +one only thing in this world that he was fitted to do. + +"I've seen shooting and slaughter, but I never saw anything like that. +I sat by the winch and watched the show. I was weak and faint, and it +seemed to be all a dream. Bang, bang, bang, bang, went his rifle, and +thud, thud, thud, thud, went the niggers to the deck. It was amazing to +see them go down. After their first rush to get me, when about a dozen +had dropped, they seemed paralyzed; but he never left off pumping his +gun. By this time canoes and the two boats arrived from shore, armed +with Sniders, and with Winchesters which they had captured in the boats. +The fusillade they let loose on Saxtorph was tremendous. Luckily for him +the niggers are only good at close range. They are not used to putting +the gun to their shoulders. They wait until they are right on top of +a man, and then they shoot from the hip. When his rifle got too hot, +Saxtorph changed off. That had been his idea when he carried two rifles +up with him. + +"The astounding thing was the rapidity of his fire. Also, he never +made a miss. If ever anything was inevitable, that man was. It was the +swiftness of it that made the slaughter so appalling. The niggers did +not have time to think. When they did manage to think, they went over +the side in a rush, capsizing the canoes of course. Saxtorph never let +up. The water was covered with them, and plump, plump, plump, he dropped +his bullets into them. Not a single miss, and I could hear distinctly +the thud of every bullet as it buried in human flesh. + +"The niggers spread out and headed for the shore, swimming. The water +was carpeted with bobbing heads, and I stood up, as in a dream, and +watched it all--the bobbing heads and the heads that ceased to bob. Some +of the long shots were magnificent. Only one man reached the beach, but +as he stood up to wade ashore, Saxtorph got him. It was beautiful. And +when a couple of niggers ran down to drag him out of the water, Saxtorph +got them, too. + +"I thought everything was over then, when I heard the rifle go off +again. A nigger had come out of the cabin companion on the run for the +rail and gone down in the middle of it. The cabin must have been full +of them. I counted twenty. They came up one at a time and jumped for the +rail. But they never got there. It reminded me of trapshooting. A black +body would pop out of the companion, bang would go Saxtorph's rifle, and +down would go the black body. Of course, those below did not know what +was happening on deck, so they continued to pop out until the last one +was finished off. + +"Saxtorph waited a while to make sure, and then came down on deck. He +and I were all that were left of the DUCHESS'S complement, and I was +pretty well to the bad, while he was helpless now that the shooting was +over. Under my direction he washed out my scalp wounds and sewed them +up. A big drink of whiskey braced me to make an effort to get out. There +was nothing else to do. All the rest were dead. We tried to get up sail, +Saxtorph hoisting and I holding the turn. He was once more the stupid +lubber. He couldn't hoist worth a cent, and when I fell in a faint, it +looked all up with us. + +"When I came to, Saxtorph was sitting helplessly on the rail, waiting to +ask me what he should do. I told him to overhaul the wounded and see if +there were any able to crawl. He gathered together six. One, I remember, +had a broken leg; but Saxtorph said his arms were all right. I lay +in the shade, brushing the flies off and directing operations, while +Saxtorph bossed his hospital gang. I'll be blessed if he didn't make +those poor niggers heave at every rope on the pin-rails before he found +the halyards. One of them let go the rope in the midst of the hoisting +and slipped down to the deck dead; but Saxtorph hammered the others and +made them stick by the job. When the fore and main were up, I told him +to knock the shackle out of the anchor chain and let her go. I had had +myself helped aft to the wheel, where I was going to make a shift at +steering. I can't guess how he did it, but instead of knocking the +shackle out, down went the second anchor, and there we were doubly +moored. + +"In the end he managed to knock both shackles out and raise the staysail +and jib, and the Duchess filled away for the entrance. Our decks were a +spectacle. Dead and dying niggers were everywhere. They were wedged away +some of them in the most inconceivable places. The cabin was full of +them where they had crawled off the deck and cashed in. I put Saxtorph +and his graveyard gang to work heaving them overside, and over they +went, the living and the dead. The sharks had fat pickings that day. +Of course our four murdered sailors went the same way. Their heads, +however, we put in a sack with weights, so that by no chance should they +drift on the beach and fall into the hands of the niggers. + +"Our five prisoners I decided to use as crew, but they decided +otherwise. They watched their opportunity and went over the side. +Saxtorph got two in mid-air with his revolver, and would have shot the +other three in the water if I hadn't stopped him. I was sick of the +slaughter, you see, and besides, they'd helped work the schooner out. +But it was mercy thrown away, for the sharks got the three of them. + +"I had brain fever or something after we got clear of the land. Anyway, +the DUCHESS lay hove to for three weeks, when I pulled myself together +and we jogged on with her to Sydney. Anyway those niggers of Malu +learned the everlasting lesson that it is not good to monkey with a +white man. In their case, Saxtorph was certainly inevitable." + +Charley Roberts emitted a long whistle and said: + +"Well I should say so. But whatever became of Saxtorph?" + +"He drifted into seal hunting and became a crackerjack. For six years he +was high line of both the Victoria and San Francisco fleets. The seventh +year his schooner was seized in Bering Sea by a Russian cruiser, and all +hands, so the talk went, were slammed into the Siberian salt mines. At +least I've never heard of him since." + +"Farming the world," Roberts muttered. "Farming the world. Well here's +to them. Somebody's got to do it--farm the world, I mean." + +Captain Woodward rubbed the criss-crosses on his bald head. + +"I've done my share of it," he said. "Forty years now. This will be my +last trip. Then I'm going home to stay." + +"I'll wager the wine you don't," Roberts challenged. "You'll die in the +harness, not at home." + +Captain Woodward promptly accepted the bet, but personally I think +Charley Roberts has the best of it. + + + + +THE SEED OF McCOY + +The Pyrenees, her iron sides pressed low in the water by her cargo of +wheat, rolled sluggishly, and made it easy for the man who was climbing +aboard from out a tiny outrigger canoe. As his eyes came level with the +rail, so that he could see inboard, it seemed to him that he saw a dim, +almost indiscernible haze. It was more like an illusion, like a blurring +film that had spread abruptly over his eyes. He felt an inclination to +brush it away, and the same instant he thought that he was growing old +and that it was time to send to San Francisco for a pair of spectacles. + +As he came over the rail he cast a glance aloft at the tall masts, and, +next, at the pumps. They were not working. There seemed nothing the +matter with the big ship, and he wondered why she had hoisted the signal +of distress. He thought of his happy islanders, and hoped it was not +disease. Perhaps the ship was short of water or provisions. He shook +hands with the captain whose gaunt face and care-worn eyes made no +secret of the trouble, whatever it was. At the same moment the newcomer +was aware of a faint, indefinable smell. It seemed like that of burnt +bread, but different. + +He glanced curiously about him. Twenty feet away a weary-faced sailor +was calking the deck. As his eyes lingered on the man, he saw suddenly +arise from under his hands a faint spiral of haze that curled and +twisted and was gone. By now he had reached the deck. His bare feet were +pervaded by a dull warmth that quickly penetrated the thick calluses. +He knew now the nature of the ship's distress. His eyes roved swiftly +forward, where the full crew of weary-faced sailors regarded him +eagerly. The glance from his liquid brown eyes swept over them like a +benediction, soothing them, rapping them about as in the mantle of a +great peace. "How long has she been afire, Captain?" he asked in a voice +so gentle and unperturbed that it was as the cooing of a dove. + +At first the captain felt the peace and content of it stealing in upon +him; then the consciousness of all that he had gone through and was +going through smote him, and he was resentful. By what right did this +ragged beachcomber, in dungaree trousers and a cotton shirt, suggest +such a thing as peace and content to him and his overwrought, exhausted +soul? The captain did not reason this; it was the unconscious process of +emotion that caused his resentment. + +"Fifteen days," he answered shortly. "Who are you?" + +"My name is McCoy," came the answer in tones that breathed tenderness +and compassion. + +"I mean, are you the pilot?" + +McCoy passed the benediction of his gaze over the tall, heavy-shouldered +man with the haggard, unshaven face who had joined the captain. + +"I am as much a pilot as anybody," was McCoy's answer. "We are all +pilots here, Captain, and I know every inch of these waters." + +But the captain was impatient. + +"What I want is some of the authorities. I want to talk with them, and +blame quick." + +"Then I'll do just as well." + +Again that insidious suggestion of peace, and his ship a raging +furnace beneath his feet! The captain's eyebrows lifted impatiently and +nervously, and his fist clenched as if he were about to strike a blow +with it. + +"Who in hell are you?" he demanded. + +"I am the chief magistrate," was the reply in a voice that was still the +softest and gentlest imaginable. + +The tall, heavy-shouldered man broke out in a harsh laugh that was +partly amusement, but mostly hysterical. Both he and the captain +regarded McCoy with incredulity and amazement. That this barefooted +beachcomber should possess such high-sounding dignity was inconceivable. +His cotton shirt, unbuttoned, exposed a grizzled chest and the fact that +there was no undershirt beneath. + +A worn straw hat failed to hide the ragged gray hair. Halfway down his +chest descended an untrimmed patriarchal beard. In any slop shop, two +shillings would have outfitted him complete as he stood before them. + +"Any relation to the McCoy of the Bounty?" the captain asked. + +"He was my great-grandfather." + +"Oh," the captain said, then bethought himself. "My name is Davenport, +and this is my first mate, Mr. Konig." + +They shook hands. + +"And now to business." The captain spoke quickly, the urgency of a great +haste pressing his speech. "We've been on fire for over two weeks. +She's ready to break all hell loose any moment. That's why I held for +Pitcairn. I want to beach her, or scuttle her, and save the hull." + +"Then you made a mistake, Captain," said McCoy. "You should have slacked +away for Mangareva. There's a beautiful beach there, in a lagoon where +the water is like a mill pond." + +"But we're here, ain't we?" the first mate demanded. "That's the point. +We're here, and we've got to do something." + +McCoy shook his head kindly. + +"You can do nothing here. There is no beach. There isn't even +anchorage." + +"Gammon!" said the mate. "Gammon!" he repeated loudly, as the captain +signaled him to be more soft spoken. "You can't tell me that sort of +stuff. Where d'ye keep your own boats, hey--your schooner, or cutter, or +whatever you have? Hey? Answer me that." + +McCoy smiled as gently as he spoke. His smile was a caress, an embrace +that surrounded the tired mate and sought to draw him into the quietude +and rest of McCoy's tranquil soul. + +"We have no schooner or cutter," he replied. "And we carry our canoes to +the top of the cliff." + +"You've got to show me," snorted the mate. "How d'ye get around to the +other islands, heh? Tell me that." + +"We don't get around. As governor of Pitcairn, I sometimes go. When +I was younger, I was away a great deal--sometimes on the trading +schooners, but mostly on the missionary brig. But she's gone now, and we +depend on passing vessels. Sometimes we have had as high as six calls in +one year. At other times, a year, and even longer, has gone by without +one passing ship. Yours is the first in seven months." + +"And you mean to tell me--" the mate began. + +But Captain Davenport interfered. + +"Enough of this. We're losing time. What is to be done, Mr. McCoy?" + +The old man turned his brown eyes, sweet as a woman's, shoreward, and +both captain and mate followed his gaze around from the lonely rock of +Pitcairn to the crew clustering forward and waiting anxiously for the +announcement of a decision. McCoy did not hurry. He thought smoothly and +slowly, step by step, with the certitude of a mind that was never vexed +or outraged by life. + +"The wind is light now," he said finally. "There is a heavy current +setting to the westward." + +"That's what made us fetch to leeward," the captain interrupted, +desiring to vindicate his seamanship. + +"Yes, that is what fetched you to leeward," McCoy went on. "Well, you +can't work up against this current today. And if you did, there is no +beach. Your ship will be a total loss." + +He paused, and captain and mate looked despair at each other. + +"But I will tell you what you can do. The breeze will freshen tonight +around midnight--see those tails of clouds and that thickness to +windward, beyond the point there? That's where she'll come from, out of +the southeast, hard. It is three hundred miles to Mangareva. Square away +for it. There is a beautiful bed for your ship there." + +The mate shook his head. + +"Come in to the cabin, and we'll look at the chart," said the captain. + +McCoy found a stifling, poisonous atmosphere in the pent cabin. Stray +waftures of invisible gases bit his eyes and made them sting. The deck +was hotter, almost unbearably hot to his bare feet. The sweat poured +out of his body. He looked almost with apprehension about him. This +malignant, internal heat was astounding. It was a marvel that the cabin +did not burst into flames. He had a feeling as if of being in a huge +bake oven where the heat might at any moment increase tremendously and +shrivel him up like a blade of grass. + +As he lifted one foot and rubbed the hot sole against the leg of his +trousers, the mate laughed in a savage, snarling fashion. + +"The anteroom of hell," he said. "Hell herself is right down there under +your feet." + +"It's hot!" McCoy cried involuntarily, mopping his face with a bandana +handkerchief. + +"Here's Mangareva," the captain said, bending over the table and +pointing to a black speck in the midst of the white blankness of the +chart. "And here, in between, is another island. Why not run for that?" + +McCoy did not look at the chart. + +"That's Crescent Island," he answered. "It is uninhabited, and it +is only two or three feet above water. Lagoon, but no entrance. No, +Mangareva is the nearest place for your purpose." + +"Mangareva it is, then," said Captain Davenport, interrupting the mate's +growling objection. "Call the crew aft, Mr. Konig." + +The sailors obeyed, shuffling wearily along the deck and painfully +endeavoring to make haste. Exhaustion was evident in every movement. The +cook came out of his galley to hear, and the cabin boy hung about near +him. + +When Captain Davenport had explained the situation and announced his +intention of running for Mangareva, an uproar broke out. Against a +background of throaty rumbling arose inarticulate cries of rage, with +here and there a distinct curse, or word, or phrase. A shrill Cockney +voice soared and dominated for a moment, crying: "Gawd! After bein' in +ell for fifteen days--an' now e wants us to sail this floatin' ell to +sea again?" + +The captain could not control them, but McCoy's gentle presence seemed +to rebuke and calm them, and the muttering and cursing died away, until +the full crew, save here and there an anxious face directed at the +captain, yearned dumbly toward the green clad peaks and beetling coast +of Pitcairn. + +Soft as a spring zephyr was the voice of McCoy: + +"Captain, I thought I heard some of them say they were starving." + +"Ay," was the answer, "and so we are. I've had a sea biscuit and a +spoonful of salmon in the last two days. We're on whack. You see, when +we discovered the fire, we battened down immediately to suffocate the +fire. And then we found how little food there was in the pantry. But it +was too late. We didn't dare break out the lazarette. Hungry? I'm just +as hungry as they are." + +He spoke to the men again, and again the throat rumbling and cursing +arose, their faces convulsed and animal-like with rage. The second and +third mates had joined the captain, standing behind him at the break of +the poop. Their faces were set and expressionless; they seemed bored, +more than anything else, by this mutiny of the crew. Captain Davenport +glanced questioningly at his first mate, and that person merely shrugged +his shoulders in token of his helplessness. + +"You see," the captain said to McCoy, "you can't compel sailors to leave +the safe land and go to sea on a burning vessel. She has been their +floating coffin for over two weeks now. They are worked out, and starved +out, and they've got enough of her. We'll beat up for Pitcairn." + +But the wind was light, the Pyrenees' bottom was foul, and she could not +beat up against the strong westerly current. At the end of two hours she +had lost three miles. The sailors worked eagerly, as if by main strength +they could compel the PYRENEES against the adverse elements. But +steadily, port tack and starboard tack, she sagged off to the westward. +The captain paced restlessly up and down, pausing occasionally to survey +the vagrant smoke wisps and to trace them back to the portions of the +deck from which they sprang. The carpenter was engaged constantly in +attempting to locate such places, and, when he succeeded, in calking +them tighter and tighter. + +"Well, what do you think?" the captain finally asked McCoy, who was +watching the carpenter with all a child's interest and curiosity in his +eyes. + +McCoy looked shoreward, where the land was disappearing in the +thickening haze. + +"I think it would be better to square away for Mangareva. With that +breeze that is coming, you'll be there tomorrow evening." + +"But what if the fire breaks out? It is liable to do it any moment." + +"Have your boats ready in the falls. The same breeze will carry your +boats to Mangareva if the ship burns out from under." + +Captain Davenport debated for a moment, and then McCoy heard the +question he had not wanted to hear, but which he knew was surely coming. + +"I have no chart of Mangareva. On the general chart it is only a fly +speck. I would not know where to look for the entrance into the lagoon. +Will you come along and pilot her in for me?" + +McCoy's serenity was unbroken. + +"Yes, Captain," he said, with the same quiet unconcern with which +he would have accepted an invitation to dinner; "I'll go with you to +Mangareva." + +Again the crew was called aft, and the captain spoke to them from the +break of the poop. + +"We've tried to work her up, but you see how we've lost ground. She's +setting off in a two-knot current. This gentleman is the Honorable +McCoy, Chief Magistrate and Governor of Pitcairn Island. He will +come along with us to Mangareva. So you see the situation is not so +dangerous. He would not make such an offer if he thought he was going +to lose his life. Besides, whatever risk there is, if he of his own free +will come on board and take it, we can do no less. What do you say for +Mangareva?" + +This time there was no uproar. McCoy's presence, the surety and calm +that seemed to radiate from him, had had its effect. They conferred with +one another in low voices. There was little urging. They were virtually +unanimous, and they shoved the Cockney out as their spokesman. That +worthy was overwhelmed with consciousness of the heroism of himself and +his mates, and with flashing eyes he cried: + +"By Gawd! If 'e will, we will!" + +The crew mumbled its assent and started forward. + +"One moment, Captain," McCoy said, as the other was turning to give +orders to the mate. "I must go ashore first." + +Mr. Konig was thunderstruck, staring at McCoy as if he were a madman. + +"Go ashore!" the captain cried. "What for? It will take you three hours +to get there in your canoe." + +McCoy measured the distance of the land away, and nodded. + +"Yes, it is six now. I won't get ashore till nine. The people cannot be +assembled earlier than ten. As the breeze freshens up tonight, you +can begin to work up against it, and pick me up at daylight tomorrow +morning." + +"In the name of reason and common sense," the captain burst forth, "what +do you want to assemble the people for? Don't you realize that my ship +is burning beneath me?" + +McCoy was as placid as a summer sea, and the other's anger produced not +the slightest ripple upon it. + +"Yes, Captain," he cooed in his dove-like voice. "I do realize that your +ship is burning. That is why I am going with you to Mangareva. But I +must get permission to go with you. It is our custom. It is an important +matter when the governor leaves the island. The people's interests +are at stake, and so they have the right to vote their permission or +refusal. But they will give it, I know that." + +"Are you sure?" + +"Quite sure." + +"Then if you know they will give it, why bother with getting it? Think +of the delay--a whole night." + +"It is our custom," was the imperturbable reply. "Also, I am the +governor, and I must make arrangements for the conduct of the island +during my absence." + +"But it is only a twenty-four hour run to Mangareva," the captain +objected. "Suppose it took you six times that long to return to +windward; that would bring you back by the end of a week." + +McCoy smiled his large, benevolent smile. + +"Very few vessels come to Pitcairn, and when they do, they are usually +from San Francisco or from around the Horn. I shall be fortunate if I +get back in six months. I may be away a year, and I may have to go to +San Francisco in order to find a vessel that will bring me back. My +father once left Pitcairn to be gone three months, and two years passed +before he could get back. Then, too, you are short of food. If you have +to take to the boats, and the weather comes up bad, you may be days in +reaching land. I can bring off two canoe loads of food in the morning. +Dried bananas will be best. As the breeze freshens, you beat up against +it. The nearer you are, the bigger loads I can bring off. Goodby." + +He held out his hand. The captain shook it, and was reluctant to let go. +He seemed to cling to it as a drowning sailor clings to a life buoy. + +"How do I know you will come back in the morning?" he asked. + +"Yes, that's it!" cried the mate. "How do we know but what he's skinning +out to save his own hide?" + +McCoy did not speak. He looked at them sweetly and benignantly, and +it seemed to them that they received a message from his tremendous +certitude of soul. + +The captain released his hand, and, with a last sweeping glance that +embraced the crew in its benediction, McCoy went over the rail and +descended into his canoe. + +The wind freshened, and the Pyrenees, despite the foulness of her +bottom, won half a dozen miles away from the westerly current. At +daylight, with Pitcairn three miles to windward, Captain Davenport made +out two canoes coming off to him. Again McCoy clambered up the side and +dropped over the rail to the hot deck. He was followed by many packages +of dried bananas, each package wrapped in dry leaves. + +"Now, Captain," he said, "swing the yards and drive for dear life. You +see, I am no navigator," he explained a few minutes later, as he +stood by the captain aft, the latter with gaze wandering from aloft to +overside as he estimated the Pyrenees' speed. "You must fetch her to +Mangareva. When you have picked up the land, then I will pilot her in. +What do you think she is making?" + +"Eleven," Captain Davenport answered, with a final glance at the water +rushing past. + +"Eleven. Let me see, if she keeps up that gait, we'll sight Mangareva +between eight and nine o'clock tomorrow morning. I'll have her on the +beach by ten or by eleven at latest. And then your troubles will be all +over." + +It almost seemed to the captain that the blissful moment had already +arrived, such was the persuasive convincingness of McCoy. + +Captain Davenport had been under the fearful strain of navigating his +burning ship for over two weeks, and he was beginning to feel that he +had had enough. + +A heavier flaw of wind struck the back of his neck and whistled by his +ears. He measured the weight of it, and looked quickly overside. + +"The wind is making all the time," he announced. "The old girl's +doing nearer twelve than eleven right now. If this keeps up, we'll be +shortening down tonight." + +All day the Pyrenees, carrying her load of living fire, tore across the +foaming sea. By nightfall, royals and topgallantsails were in, and she +flew on into the darkness, with great, crested seas roaring after her. +The auspicious wind had had its effect, and fore and aft a visible +brightening was apparent. In the second dog-watch some careless soul +started a song, and by eight bells the whole crew was singing. + +Captain Davenport had his blankets brought up and spread on top the +house. + +"I've forgotten what sleep is," he explained to McCoy. "I'm all in. But +give me a call at any time you think necessary." + +At three in the morning he was aroused by a gentle tugging at his arm. +He sat up quickly, bracing himself against the skylight, stupid yet from +his heavy sleep. The wind was thrumming its war song in the rigging, and +a wild sea was buffeting the PYRENEES. Amidships she was wallowing first +one rail under and then the other, flooding the waist more often than +not. McCoy was shouting something he could not hear. He reached out, +clutched the other by the shoulder, and drew him close so that his own +ear was close to the other's lips. + +"It's three o'clock," came McCoy's voice, still retaining its dovelike +quality, but curiously muffled, as if from a long way off. "We've +run two hundred and fifty. Crescent Island is only thirty miles away, +somewhere there dead ahead. There's no lights on it. If we keep running, +we'll pile up, and lose ourselves as well as the ship." + +"What d' ye think--heave to?" + +"Yes; heave to till daylight. It will only put us back four hours." + +So the Pyrenees, with her cargo of fire, was hove to, bitting the teeth +of the gale and fighting and smashing the pounding seas. She was a +shell, filled with a conflagration, and on the outside of the shell, +clinging precariously, the little motes of men, by pull and haul, helped +her in the battle. + +"It is most unusual, this gale," McCoy told the captain, in the lee of +the cabin. "By rights there should be no gale at this time of the year. +But everything about the weather has been unusual. There has been a +stoppage of the trades, and now it's howling right out of the trade +quarter." He waved his hand into the darkness, as if his vision could +dimly penetrate for hundreds of miles. "It is off to the westward. There +is something big making off there somewhere--a hurricane or something. +We're lucky to be so far to the eastward. But this is only a little +blow," he added. "It can't last. I can tell you that much." + +By daylight the gale had eased down to normal. But daylight revealed +a new danger. It had come on thick. The sea was covered by a fog, or, +rather, by a pearly mist that was fog-like in density, in so far as it +obstructed vision, but that was no more than a film on the sea, for the +sun shot it through and filled it with a glowing radiance. + +The deck of the Pyrenees was making more smoke than on the preceding +day, and the cheerfulness of officers and crew had vanished. In the lee +of the galley the cabin boy could be heard whimpering. It was his first +voyage, and the fear of death was at his heart. The captain wandered +about like a lost soul, nervously chewing his mustache, scowling, unable +to make up his mind what to do. + +"What do you think?" he asked, pausing by the side of McCoy, who was +making a breakfast off fried bananas and a mug of water. + +McCoy finished the last banana, drained the mug, and looked slowly +around. In his eyes was a smile of tenderness as he said: + +"Well, Captain, we might as well drive as burn. Your decks are not going +to hold out forever. They are hotter this morning. You haven't a pair of +shoes I can wear? It is getting uncomfortable for my bare feet." + +The Pyrenees shipped two heavy seas as she was swung off and put once +more before it, and the first mate expressed a desire to have all that +water down in the hold, if only it could be introduced without taking +off the hatches. McCoy ducked his head into the binnacle and watched the +course set. + +"I'd hold her up some more, Captain," he said. "She's been making drift +when hove to." + +"I've set it to a point higher already," was the answer. "Isn't that +enough?" + +"I'd make it two points, Captain. This bit of a blow kicked that +westerly current ahead faster than you imagine." + +Captain Davenport compromised on a point and a half, and then went +aloft, accompanied by McCoy and the first mate, to keep a lookout for +land. Sail had been made, so that the Pyrenees was doing ten knots. The +following sea was dying down rapidly. There was no break in the pearly +fog, and by ten o'clock Captain Davenport was growing nervous. All hands +were at their stations, ready, at the first warning of land ahead, to +spring like fiends to the task of bringing the Pyrenees up on the wind. +That land ahead, a surf-washed outer reef, would be perilously close +when it revealed itself in such a fog. + +Another hour passed. The three watchers aloft stared intently into the +pearly radiance. "What if we miss Mangareva?" Captain Davenport asked +abruptly. + +McCoy, without shifting his gaze, answered softly: + +"Why, let her drive, captain. That is all we can do. All the Paumotus +are before us. We can drive for a thousand miles through reefs and +atolls. We are bound to fetch up somewhere." + +"Then drive it is." Captain Davenport evidenced his intention of +descending to the deck. "We've missed Mangareva. God knows where +the next land is. I wish I'd held her up that other half-point," he +confessed a moment later. "This cursed current plays the devil with a +navigator." + +"The old navigators called the Paumotus the Dangerous Archipelago," +McCoy said, when they had regained the poop. "This very current was +partly responsible for that name." + +"I was talking with a sailor chap in Sydney, once," said Mr. Konig. +"He'd been trading in the Paumotus. He told me insurance was eighteen +per cent. Is that right?" + +McCoy smiled and nodded. + +"Except that they don't insure," he explained. "The owners write off +twenty per cent of the cost of their schooners each year." + +"My God!" Captain Davenport groaned. "That makes the life of a schooner +only five years!" He shook his head sadly, murmuring, "Bad waters! Bad +waters!" + +Again they went into the cabin to consult the big general chart; but the +poisonous vapors drove them coughing and gasping on deck. + +"Here is Moerenhout Island," Captain Davenport pointed it out on the +chart, which he had spread on the house. "It can't be more than a +hundred miles to leeward." + +"A hundred and ten." McCoy shook his head doubtfully. "It might be done, +but it is very difficult. I might beach her, and then again I might put +her on the reef. A bad place, a very bad place." + +"We'll take the chance," was Captain Davenport's decision, as he set +about working out the course. + +Sail was shortened early in the afternoon, to avoid running past in +the night; and in the second dog-watch the crew manifested its regained +cheerfulness. Land was so very near, and their troubles would be over in +the morning. + +But morning broke clear, with a blazing tropic sun. The southeast trade +had swung around to the eastward, and was driving the PYRENEES through +the water at an eight-knot clip. Captain Davenport worked up his dead +reckoning, allowing generously for drift, and announced Moerenhout +Island to be not more than ten miles off. The Pyrenees sailed the +ten miles; she sailed ten miles more; and the lookouts at the three +mastheads saw naught but the naked, sun-washed sea. + +"But the land is there, I tell you," Captain Davenport shouted to them +from the poop. + +McCoy smiled soothingly, but the captain glared about him like a madman, +fetched his sextant, and took a chronometer sight. + +"I knew I was right," he almost shouted, when he had worked up the +observation. "Twenty-one, fifty-five, south; one-thirty-six, two, west. +There you are. We're eight miles to windward yet. What did you make it +out, Mr. Konig?" + +The first mate glanced at his own figures, and said in a low voice: + +"Twenty-one, fifty-five all right; but my longitude's one-thirty-six, +forty-eight. That puts us considerably to leeward--" + +But Captain Davenport ignored his figures with so contemptuous a silence +as to make Mr. Konig grit his teeth and curse savagely under his breath. + +"Keep her off," the captain ordered the man at the wheel. "Three +points--steady there, as she goes!" + +Then he returned to his figures and worked them over. The sweat poured +from his face. He chewed his mustache, his lips, and his pencil, staring +at the figures as a man might at a ghost. Suddenly, with a fierce, +muscular outburst, he crumpled the scribbled paper in his fist and +crushed it under foot. Mr. Konig grinned vindictively and turned away, +while Captain Davenport leaned against the cabin and for half an +hour spoke no word, contenting himself with gazing to leeward with an +expression of musing hopelessness on his face. + +"Mr. McCoy," he broke silence abruptly. "The chart indicates a group +of islands, but not how many, off there to the north'ard, or +nor'-nor'westward, about forty miles--the Acteon Islands. What about +them?" + +"There are four, all low," McCoy answered. "First to the southeast is +Matuerui--no people, no entrance to the lagoon. Then comes Tenarunga. +There used to be about a dozen people there, but they may be all gone +now. Anyway, there is no entrance for a ship--only a boat entrance, +with a fathom of water. Vehauga and Teua-raro are the other two. No +entrances, no people, very low. There is no bed for the Pyrenees in that +group. She would be a total wreck." + +"Listen to that!" Captain Davenport was frantic. "No people! No +entrances! What in the devil are islands good for? + +"Well, then," he barked suddenly, like an excited terrier, "the chart +gives a whole mess of islands off to the nor'west. What about them? What +one has an entrance where I can lay my ship?" + +McCoy calmly considered. He did not refer to the chart. All these +islands, reefs, shoals, lagoons, entrances, and distances were marked +on the chart of his memory. He knew them as the city dweller knows his +buildings, streets, and alleys. + +"Papakena and Vanavana are off there to the westward, or +west-nor'westward a hundred miles and a bit more," he said. "One is +uninhabited, and I heard that the people on the other had gone off to +Cadmus Island. Anyway, neither lagoon has an entrance. Ahunui is another +hundred miles on to the nor'west. No entrance, no people." + +"Well, forty miles beyond them are two islands?" Captain Davenport +queried, raising his head from the chart. + +McCoy shook his head. + +"Paros and Manuhungi--no entrances, no people. Nengo-Nengo is forty +miles beyond them, in turn, and it has no people and no entrance. But +there is Hao Island. It is just the place. The lagoon is thirty miles +long and five miles wide. There are plenty of people. You can usually +find water. And any ship in the world can go through the entrance." + +He ceased and gazed solicitously at Captain Davenport, who, bending over +the chart with a pair of dividers in hand, had just emitted a low groan. + +"Is there any lagoon with an entrance anywhere nearer than Hao Island?" +he asked. + +"No, Captain; that is the nearest." + +"Well, it's three hundred and forty miles." Captain Davenport was +speaking very slowly, with decision. "I won't risk the responsibility of +all these lives. I'll wreck her on the Acteons. And she's a good ship, +too," he added regretfully, after altering the course, this time making +more allowance than ever for the westerly current. + +An hour later the sky was overcast. The southeast trade still held, but +the ocean was a checker board of squalls. + +"We'll be there by one o'clock," Captain Davenport announced +confidently. "By two o'clock at the outside. McCoy, you put her ashore +on the one where the people are." + +The sun did not appear again, nor, at one o'clock, was any land to be +seen. Captain Davenport looked astern at the Pyrenees' canting wake. + +"Good Lord!" he cried. "An easterly current? Look at that!" + +Mr. Konig was incredulous. McCoy was noncommittal, though he said that +in the Paumotus there was no reason why it should not be an easterly +current. A few minutes later a squall robbed the Pyrenees temporarily of +all her wind, and she was left rolling heavily in the trough. + +"Where's that deep lead? Over with it, you there!" Captain Davenport +held the lead line and watched it sag off to the northeast. "There, look +at that! Take hold of it for yourself." + +McCoy and the mate tried it, and felt the line thrumming and vibrating +savagely to the grip of the tidal stream. + +"A four-knot current," said Mr. Konig. + +"An easterly current instead of a westerly," said Captain "Davenport, +glaring accusingly at McCoy, as if to cast the blame for it upon him. + +"That is one of the reasons, Captain, for insurance being eighteen per +cent in these waters," McCoy answered cheerfully. "You can never tell. +The currents are always changing. There was a man who wrote books, I +forget his name, in the yacht Casco. He missed Takaroa by thirty miles +and fetched Tikei, all because of the shifting currents. You are up to +windward now, and you'd better keep off a few points." + +"But how much has this current set me?" the captain demanded irately. +"How am I to know how much to keep off?" + +"I don't know, Captain," McCoy said with great gentleness. + +The wind returned, and the PYRENEES, her deck smoking and shimmering in +the bright gray light, ran off dead to leeward. Then she worked back, +port tack and starboard tack, crisscrossing her track, combing the sea +for the Acteon Islands, which the masthead lookouts failed to sight. + +Captain Davenport was beside himself. His rage took the form of sullen +silence, and he spent the afternoon in pacing the poop or leaning +against the weather shrouds. At nightfall, without even consulting +McCoy, he squared away and headed into the northwest. Mr. Konig, +surreptitiously consulting chart and binnacle, and McCoy, openly and +innocently consulting the binnacle, knew that they were running for Hao +Island. By midnight the squalls ceased, and the stars came out. Captain +Davenport was cheered by the promise of a clear day. + +"I'll get an observation in the morning," he told McCoy, "though what +my latitude is, is a puzzler. But I'll use the Sumner method, and settle +that. Do you know the Sumner line?" + +And thereupon he explained it in detail to McCoy. + +The day proved clear, the trade blew steadily out of the east, and the +Pyrenees just as steadily logged her nine knots. Both the captain and +mate worked out the position on a Sumner line, and agreed, and at noon +agreed again, and verified the morning sights by the noon sights. + +"Another twenty-four hours and we'll be there," Captain Davenport +assured McCoy. "It's a miracle the way the old girl's decks hold out. +But they can't last. They can't last. Look at them smoke, more and +more every day. Yet it was a tight deck to begin with, fresh-calked in +Frisco. I was surprised when the fire first broke out and we battened +down. Look at that!" + +He broke off to gaze with dropped jaw at a spiral of smoke that coiled +and twisted in the lee of the mizzenmast twenty feet above the deck. + +"Now, how did that get there?" he demanded indignantly. + +Beneath it there was no smoke. Crawling up from the deck, sheltered from +the wind by the mast, by some freak it took form and visibility at that +height. It writhed away from the mast, and for a moment overhung the +captain like some threatening portent. The next moment the wind whisked +it away, and the captain's jaw returned to place. + +"As I was saying, when we first battened down, I was surprised. It was +a tight deck, yet it leaked smoke like a sieve. And we've calked and +calked ever since. There must be tremendous pressure underneath to drive +so much smoke through." + +That afternoon the sky became overcast again, and squally, drizzly +weather set in. The wind shifted back and forth between southeast and +northeast, and at midnight the Pyrenees was caught aback by a sharp +squall from the southwest, from which point the wind continued to blow +intermittently. + +"We won't make Hao until ten or eleven," Captain Davenport complained +at seven in the morning, when the fleeting promise of the sun had been +erased by hazy cloud masses in the eastern sky. And the next moment he +was plaintively demanding, "And what are the currents doing?" + +Lookouts at the mastheads could report no land, and the day passed in +drizzling calms and violent squalls. By nightfall a heavy sea began +to make from the west. The barometer had fallen to 29.50. There was no +wind, and still the ominous sea continued to increase. Soon the +Pyrenees was rolling madly in the huge waves that marched in an unending +procession from out of the darkness of the west. Sail was shortened as +fast as both watches could work, and, when the tired crew had finished, +its grumbling and complaining voices, peculiarly animal-like and +menacing, could be heard in the darkness. Once the starboard watch was +called aft to lash down and make secure, and the men openly advertised +their sullenness and unwillingness. Every slow movement was a protest +and a threat. The atmosphere was moist and sticky like mucilage, and in +the absence of wind all hands seemed to pant and gasp for air. The sweat +stood out on faces and bare arms, and Captain Davenport for one, his +face more gaunt and care-worn than ever, and his eyes troubled and +staring, was oppressed by a feeling of impending calamity. + +"It's off to the westward," McCoy said encouragingly. "At worst, we'll +be only on the edge of it." + +But Captain Davenport refused to be comforted, and by the light of a +lantern read up the chapter in his Epitome that related to the strategy +of shipmasters in cyclonic storms. From somewhere amidships the silence +was broken by a low whimpering from the cabin boy. + +"Oh, shut up!" Captain Davenport yelled suddenly and with such force as +to startle every man on board and to frighten the offender into a wild +wail of terror. + +"Mr. Konig," the captain said in a voice that trembled with rage and +nerves, "will you kindly step for'ard and stop that brat's mouth with a +deck mop?" + +But it was McCoy who went forward, and in a few minutes had the boy +comforted and asleep. + +Shortly before daybreak the first breath of air began to move from out +the southeast, increasing swiftly to a stiff and stiffer breeze. All +hands were on deck waiting for what might be behind it. "We're all +right now, Captain," said McCoy, standing close to his shoulder. "The +hurricane is to the west'ard, and we are south of it. This breeze is the +in-suck. It won't blow any harder. You can begin to put sail on her." + +"But what's the good? Where shall I sail? This is the second day without +observations, and we should have sighted Hao Island yesterday morning. +Which way does it bear, north, south, east, or what? Tell me that, and +I'll make sail in a jiffy." + +"I am no navigator, Captain," McCoy said in his mild way. + +"I used to think I was one," was the retort, "before I got into these +Paumotus." + +At midday the cry of "Breakers ahead!" was heard from the lookout. The +Pyrenees was kept off, and sail after sail was loosed and sheeted home. +The Pyrenees was sliding through the water and fighting a current that +threatened to set her down upon the breakers. Officers and men were +working like mad, cook and cabin boy, Captain Davenport himself, and +McCoy all lending a hand. It was a close shave. It was a low shoal, a +bleak and perilous place over which the seas broke unceasingly, where no +man could live, and on which not even sea birds could rest. The PYRENEES +was swept within a hundred yards of it before the wind carried her +clear, and at this moment the panting crew, its work done, burst out +in a torrent of curses upon the head of McCoy--of McCoy who had come on +board, and proposed the run to Mangareva, and lured them all away from +the safety of Pitcairn Island to certain destruction in this baffling +and terrible stretch of sea. But McCoy's tranquil soul was undisturbed. +He smiled at them with simple and gracious benevolence, and, somehow, +the exalted goodness of him seemed to penetrate to their dark and somber +souls, shaming them, and from very shame stilling the curses vibrating +in their throats. + +"Bad waters! Bad waters!" Captain Davenport was murmuring as his ship +forged clear; but he broke off abruptly to gaze at the shoal which +should have been dead astern, but which was already on the PYRENEES' +weather-quarter and working up rapidly to windward. + +He sat down and buried his face in his hands. And the first mate saw, +and McCoy saw, and the crew saw, what he had seen. South of the shoal +an easterly current had set them down upon it; north of the shoal an +equally swift westerly current had clutched the ship and was sweeping +her away. + +"I've heard of these Paumotus before," the captain groaned, lifting +his blanched face from his hands. "Captain Moyendale told me about them +after losing his ship on them. And I laughed at him behind his back. God +forgive me, I laughed at him. What shoal is that?" he broke off, to ask +McCoy. + +"I don't know, Captain." + +"Why don't you know?" + +"Because I never saw it before, and because I have never heard of it. I +do know that it is not charted. These waters have never been thoroughly +surveyed." + +"Then you don't know where we are?" + +"No more than you do," McCoy said gently. + +At four in the afternoon cocoanut trees were sighted, apparently growing +out of the water. A little later the low land of an atoll was raised +above the sea. + +"I know where we are now, Captain." McCoy lowered the glasses from his +eyes. "That's Resolution Island. We are forty miles beyond Hao Island, +and the wind is in our teeth." + +"Get ready to beach her then. Where's the entrance?" + +"There's only a canoe passage. But now that we know where we are, we can +run for Barclay de Tolley. It is only one hundred and twenty miles +from here, due nor'-nor'west. With this breeze we can be there by nine +o'clock tomorrow morning." + +Captain Davenport consulted the chart and debated with himself. + +"If we wreck her here," McCoy added, "we'd have to make the run to +Barclay de Tolley in the boats just the same." + +The captain gave his orders, and once more the Pyrenees swung off for +another run across the inhospitable sea. + +And the middle of the next afternoon saw despair and mutiny on her +smoking deck. The current had accelerated, the wind had slackened, and +the Pyrenees had sagged off to the west. The lookout sighted Barclay de +Tolley to the eastward, barely visible from the masthead, and vainly and +for hours the PYRENEES tried to beat up to it. Ever, like a mirage, the +cocoanut trees hovered on the horizon, visible only from the masthead. +From the deck they were hidden by the bulge of the world. + +Again Captain Davenport consulted McCoy and the chart. Makemo lay +seventy-five miles to the southwest. Its lagoon was thirty miles long, +and its entrance was excellent. When Captain Davenport gave his orders, +the crew refused duty. They announced that they had had enough of hell +fire under their feet. There was the land. What if the ship could not +make it? They could make it in the boats. Let her burn, then. Their +lives amounted to something to them. They had served faithfully the +ship, now they were going to serve themselves. + +They sprang to the boats, brushing the second and third mates out of the +way, and proceeded to swing the boats out and to prepare to lower away. +Captain Davenport and the first mate, revolvers in hand, were advancing +to the break of the poop, when McCoy, who had climbed on top of the +cabin, began to speak. + +He spoke to the sailors, and at the first sound of his dovelike, +cooing voice they paused to hear. He extended to them his own ineffable +serenity and peace. His soft voice and simple thoughts flowed out +to them in a magic stream, soothing them against their wills. Long +forgotten things came back to them, and some remembered lullaby songs of +childhood and the content and rest of the mother's arm at the end of the +day. There was no more trouble, no more danger, no more irk, in all +the world. Everything was as it should be, and it was only a matter of +course that they should turn their backs upon the land and put to sea +once more with hell fire hot beneath their feet. + +McCoy spoke simply; but it was not what he spoke. It was his personality +that spoke more eloquently than any word he could utter. It was an +alchemy of soul occultly subtile and profoundly deep--a mysterious +emanation of the spirit, seductive, sweetly humble, and terribly +imperious. It was illumination in the dark crypts of their souls, a +compulsion of purity and gentleness vastly greater than that which +resided in the shining, death-spitting revolvers of the officers. + +The men wavered reluctantly where they stood, and those who had loosed +the turns made them fast again. Then one, and then another, and then all +of them, began to sidle awkwardly away. + +McCoy's face was beaming with childlike pleasure as he descended from +the top of the cabin. There was no trouble. For that matter there had +been no trouble averted. There never had been any trouble, for there was +no place for such in the blissful world in which he lived. + +"You hypnotized em," Mr. Konig grinned at him, speaking in a low voice. + +"Those boys are good," was the answer. "Their hearts are good. They have +had a hard time, and they have worked hard, and they will work hard to +the end." + +Mr. Konig had not time to reply. His voice was ringing out orders, the +sailors were springing to obey, and the PYRENEES was paying slowly off +from the wind until her bow should point in the direction of Makemo. + +The wind was very light, and after sundown almost ceased. It was +insufferably warm, and fore and aft men sought vainly to sleep. The deck +was too hot to lie upon, and poisonous vapors, oozing through the seams, +crept like evil spirits over the ship, stealing into the nostrils and +windpipes of the unwary and causing fits of sneezing and coughing. +The stars blinked lazily in the dim vault overhead; and the full moon, +rising in the east, touched with its light the myriads of wisps and +threads and spidery films of smoke that intertwined and writhed and +twisted along the deck, over the rails, and up the masts and shrouds. + +"Tell me," Captain Davenport said, rubbing his smarting eyes, "what +happened with that BOUNTY crowd after they reached Pitcairn? The account +I read said they burnt the Bounty, and that they were not discovered +until many years later. But what happened in the meantime? I've always +been curious to know. They were men with their necks in the rope. There +were some native men, too. And then there were women. That made it look +like trouble right from the jump." + +"There was trouble," McCoy answered. "They were bad men. They quarreled +about the women right away. One of the mutineers, Williams, lost his +wife. All the women were Tahitian women. His wife fell from the cliffs +when hunting sea birds. Then he took the wife of one of the native men +away from him. All the native men were made very angry by this, and they +killed off nearly all the mutineers. Then the mutineers that escaped +killed off all the native men. The women helped. And the natives killed +each other. Everybody killed everybody. They were terrible men. + +"Timiti was killed by two other natives while they were combing his hair +in friendship. The white men had sent them to do it. Then the white +men killed them. The wife of Tullaloo killed him in a cave because she +wanted a white man for husband. They were very wicked. God had hidden +His face from them. At the end of two years all the native men were +murdered, and all the white men except four. They were Young, John +Adams, McCoy, who was my great-grandfather, and Quintal. He was a very +bad man, too. Once, just because his wife did not catch enough fish for +him, he bit off her ear." + +"They were a bad lot!" Mr. Konig exclaimed. + +"Yes, they were very bad," McCoy agreed and went on serenely cooing of +the blood and lust of his iniquitous ancestry. "My great-grandfather +escaped murder in order to die by his own hand. He made a still and +manufactured alcohol from the roots of the ti-plant. Quintal was his +chum, and they got drunk together all the time. At last McCoy got +delirium tremens, tied a rock to his neck, and jumped into the sea. + +"Quintal's wife, the one whose ear he bit off, also got killed by +falling from the cliffs. Then Quintal went to Young and demanded his +wife, and went to Adams and demanded his wife. Adams and Young were +afraid of Quintal. They knew he would kill them. So they killed him, +the two of them together, with a hatchet. Then Young died. And that was +about all the trouble they had." + +"I should say so," Captain Davenport snorted. "There was nobody left to +kill." + +"You see, God had hidden His face," McCoy said. + +By morning no more than a faint air was blowing from the eastward, and, +unable to make appreciable southing by it, Captain Davenport hauled up +full-and-by on the port track. He was afraid of that terrible westerly +current which had cheated him out of so many ports of refuge. All day +the calm continued, and all night, while the sailors, on a short ration +of dried banana, were grumbling. Also, they were growing weak and +complaining of stomach pains caused by the straight banana diet. All day +the current swept the PYRENEES to the westward, while there was no wind +to bear her south. In the middle of the first dogwatch, cocoanut trees +were sighted due south, their tufted heads rising above the water and +marking the low-lying atoll beneath. + +"That is Taenga Island," McCoy said. "We need a breeze tonight, or else +we'll miss Makemo." + +"What's become of the southeast trade?" the captain demanded. "Why don't +it blow? What's the matter?" + +"It is the evaporation from the big lagoons--there are so many of them," +McCoy explained. "The evaporation upsets the whole system of trades. It +even causes the wind to back up and blow gales from the southwest. This +is the Dangerous Archipelago, Captain." + +Captain Davenport faced the old man, opened his mouth, and was about to +curse, but paused and refrained. McCoy's presence was a rebuke to +the blasphemies that stirred in his brain and trembled in his larynx. +McCoy's influence had been growing during the many days they had been +together. Captain Davenport was an autocrat of the sea, fearing no man, +never bridling his tongue, and now he found himself unable to curse in +the presence of this old man with the feminine brown eyes and the +voice of a dove. When he realized this, Captain Davenport experienced a +distinct shock. This old man was merely the seed of McCoy, of McCoy +of the BOUNTY, the mutineer fleeing from the hemp that waited him in +England, the McCoy who was a power for evil in the early days of blood +and lust and violent death on Pitcairn Island. + +Captain Davenport was not religious, yet in that moment he felt a mad +impulse to cast himself at the other's feet--and to say he knew not +what. It was an emotion that so deeply stirred him, rather than +a coherent thought, and he was aware in some vague way of his own +unworthiness and smallness in the presence of this other man who +possessed the simplicity of a child and the gentleness of a woman. + +Of course he could not so humble himself before the eyes of his officers +and men. And yet the anger that had prompted the blasphemy still raged +in him. He suddenly smote the cabin with his clenched hand and cried: + +"Look here, old man, I won't be beaten. These Paumotus have cheated and +tricked me and made a fool of me. I refuse to be beaten. I am going +to drive this ship, and drive and drive and drive clear through the +Paumotus to China but what I find a bed for her. If every man deserts, +I'll stay by her. I'll show the Paumotus. They can't fool me. She's a +good girl, and I'll stick by her as long as there's a plank to stand on. +You hear me?" + +"And I'll stay with you, Captain," McCoy said. + +During the night, light, baffling airs blew out of the south, and +the frantic captain, with his cargo of fire, watched and measured his +westward drift and went off by himself at times to curse softly so that +McCoy should not hear. + +Daylight showed more palms growing out of the water to the south. + +"That's the leeward point of Makemo," McCoy said. "Katiu is only a few +miles to the west. We may make that." + +But the current, sucking between the two islands, swept them to the +northwest, and at one in the afternoon they saw the palms of Katiu rise +above the sea and sink back into the sea again. + +A few minutes later, just as the captain had discovered that a new +current from the northeast had gripped the Pyrenees, the masthead +lookouts raised cocoanut palms in the northwest. + +"It is Raraka," said McCoy. "We won't make it without wind. The current +is drawing us down to the southwest. But we must watch out. A few miles +farther on a current flows north and turns in a circle to the northwest. +This will sweep us away from Fakarava, and Fakarava is the place for the +Pyrenees to find her bed." + +"They can sweep all they da--all they well please," Captain Davenport +remarked with heat. "We'll find a bed for her somewhere just the same." + +But the situation on the Pyrenees was reaching a culmination. The deck +was so hot that it seemed an increase of a few degrees would cause it to +burst into flames. In many places even the heavy-soled shoes of the +men were no protection, and they were compelled to step lively to avoid +scorching their feet. The smoke had increased and grown more acrid. +Every man on board was suffering from inflamed eyes, and they coughed +and strangled like a crew of tuberculosis patients. In the afternoon the +boats were swung out and equipped. The last several packages of dried +bananas were stored in them, as well as the instruments of the officers. +Captain Davenport even put the chronometer into the longboat, fearing +the blowing up of the deck at any moment. + +All night this apprehension weighed heavily on all, and in the first +morning light, with hollow eyes and ghastly faces, they stared at one +another as if in surprise that the Pyrenees still held together and that +they still were alive. + +Walking rapidly at times, and even occasionally breaking into an +undignified hop-skip-and-run, Captain Davenport inspected his ship's +deck. + +"It is a matter of hours now, if not of minutes," he announced on his +return to the poop. + +The cry of land came down from the masthead. From the deck the land was +invisible, and McCoy went aloft, while the captain took advantage of the +opportunity to curse some of the bitterness out of his heart. But +the cursing was suddenly stopped by a dark line on the water which he +sighted to the northeast. It was not a squall, but a regular breeze--the +disrupted trade wind, eight points out of its direction but resuming +business once more. + +"Hold her up, Captain," McCoy said as soon as he reached the poop. +"That's the easterly point of Fakarava, and we'll go in through the +passage full-tilt, the wind abeam, and every sail drawing." + +At the end of an hour, the cocoanut trees and the low-lying land +were visible from the deck. The feeling that the end of the PYRENEES' +resistance was imminent weighed heavily on everybody. Captain Davenport +had the three boats lowered and dropped short astern, a man in each +to keep them apart. The Pyrenees closely skirted the shore, the +surf-whitened atoll a bare two cable lengths away. + +And a minute later the land parted, exposing a narrow passage and the +lagoon beyond, a great mirror, thirty miles in length and a third as +broad. + +"Now, Captain." + +For the last time the yards of the Pyrenees swung around as she obeyed +the wheel and headed into the passage. The turns had scarcely been made, +and nothing had been coiled down, when the men and mates swept back to +the poop in panic terror. Nothing had happened, yet they averred that +something was going to happen. They could not tell why. They merely +knew that it was about to happen. McCoy started forward to take up +his position on the bow in order to con the vessel in; but the captain +gripped his arm and whirled him around. + +"Do it from here," he said. "That deck's not safe. What's the matter?" +he demanded the next instant. "We're standing still." + +McCoy smiled. + +"You are bucking a seven-knot current, Captain," he said. "That is the +way the full ebb runs out of this passage." + +At the end of another hour the Pyrenees had scarcely gained her length, +but the wind freshened and she began to forge ahead. + +"Better get into the boats, some of you," Captain Davenport commanded. + +His voice was still ringing, and the men were just beginning to move in +obedience, when the amidship deck of the Pyrenees, in a mass of flame +and smoke, was flung upward into the sails and rigging, part of it +remaining there and the rest falling into the sea. The wind being abeam, +was what had saved the men crowded aft. They made a blind rush to gain +the boats, but McCoy's voice, carrying its convincing message of vast +calm and endless time, stopped them. + +"Take it easy," he was saying. "Everything is all right. Pass that boy +down somebody, please." + +The man at the wheel had forsaken it in a funk, and Captain Davenport +had leaped and caught the spokes in time to prevent the ship from yawing +in the current and going ashore. + +"Better take charge of the boats," he said to Mr. Konig. "Tow one of +them short, right under the quarter.... When I go over, it'll be on the +jump." + +Mr. Konig hesitated, then went over the rail and lowered himself into +the boat. + +"Keep her off half a point, Captain." + +Captain Davenport gave a start. He had thought he had the ship to +himself. + +"Ay, ay; half a point it is," he answered. + +Amidships the Pyrenees was an open flaming furnace, out of which +poured an immense volume of smoke which rose high above the masts and +completely hid the forward part of the ship. McCoy, in the shelter of +the mizzen-shrouds, continued his difficult task of conning the ship +through the intricate channel. The fire was working aft along the deck +from the seat of explosion, while the soaring tower of canvas on the +mainmast went up and vanished in a sheet of flame. Forward, though they +could not see them, they knew that the head-sails were still drawing. + +"If only she don't burn all her canvas off before she makes inside," the +captain groaned. + +"She'll make it," McCoy assured him with supreme confidence. "There is +plenty of time. She is bound to make it. And once inside, we'll put her +before it; that will keep the smoke away from us and hold back the fire +from working aft." + +A tongue of flame sprang up the mizzen, reached hungrily for the lowest +tier of canvas, missed it, and vanished. From aloft a burning shred of +rope stuff fell square on the back of Captain Davenport's neck. He acted +with the celerity of one stung by a bee as he reached up and brushed the +offending fire from his skin. + +"How is she heading, Captain?" + +"Nor'west by west." + +"Keep her west-nor-west." + +Captain Davenport put the wheel up and steadied her. + +"West by north, Captain." + +"West by north she is." + +"And now west." + +Slowly, point by point, as she entered the lagoon, the PYRENEES +described the circle that put her before the wind; and point by point, +with all the calm certitude of a thousand years of time to spare, McCoy +chanted the changing course. + +"Another point, Captain." + +"A point it is." + +Captain Davenport whirled several spokes over, suddenly reversing and +coming back one to check her. + +"Steady." + +"Steady she is--right on it." + +Despite the fact that the wind was now astern, the heat was so intense +that Captain Davenport was compelled to steal sidelong glances into the +binnacle, letting go the wheel now with one hand, now with the other, to +rub or shield his blistering cheeks. + +McCoy's beard was crinkling and shriveling and the smell of it, strong +in the other's nostrils, compelled him to look toward McCoy with sudden +solicitude. Captain Davenport was letting go the spokes alternately with +his hands in order to rub their blistering backs against his trousers. +Every sail on the mizzenmast vanished in a rush of flame, compelling the +two men to crouch and shield their faces. + +"Now," said McCoy, stealing a glance ahead at the low shore, "four +points up, Captain, and let her drive." + +Shreds and patches of burning rope and canvas were falling about them +and upon them. The tarry smoke from a smouldering piece of rope at the +captain's feet set him off into a violent coughing fit, during which he +still clung to the spokes. + +The Pyrenees struck, her bow lifted and she ground ahead gently to a +stop. A shower of burning fragments, dislodged by the shock, fell about +them. The ship moved ahead again and struck a second time. She crushed +the fragile coral under her keel, drove on, and struck a third time. + +"Hard over," said McCoy. "Hard over?" he questioned gently, a minute +later. + +"She won't answer," was the reply. + +"All right. She is swinging around." McCoy peered over the side. "Soft, +white sand. Couldn't ask better. A beautiful bed." + +As the Pyrenees swung around her stern away from the wind, a fearful +blast of smoke and flame poured aft. Captain Davenport deserted the +wheel in blistering agony. He reached the painter of the boat that lay +under the quarter, then looked for McCoy, who was standing aside to let +him go down. + +"You first," the captain cried, gripping him by the shoulder and almost +throwing him over the rail. But the flame and smoke were too terrible, +and he followed hard after McCoy, both men wriggling on the rope and +sliding down into the boat together. A sailor in the bow, without +waiting for orders, slashed the painter through with his sheath knife. +The oars, poised in readiness, bit into the water, and the boat shot +away. + +"A beautiful bed, Captain," McCoy murmured, looking back. + +"Ay, a beautiful bed, and all thanks to you," was the answer. + +The three boats pulled away for the white beach of pounded coral, beyond +which, on the edge of a cocoanut grove, could be seen a half dozen grass +houses and a score or more of excited natives, gazing wide-eyed at the +conflagration that had come to land. + +The boats grounded and they stepped out on the white beach. + +"And now," said McCoy, "I must see about getting back to Pitcairn." + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of South Sea Tales, by Jack London + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOUTH SEA TALES *** + +***** This file should be named 1208.txt or 1208.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/0/1208/ + +Produced by Theresa Armao + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/1208.zip b/old/1208.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c61ebe8 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/1208.zip diff --git a/old/old/1208-h.htm.2021-01-27 b/old/old/1208-h.htm.2021-01-27 new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1e6afd3 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old/1208-h.htm.2021-01-27 @@ -0,0 +1,6783 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + South Sea Tales, by Jack London + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of South Sea Tales, by Jack London + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: South Sea Tales + +Author: Jack London + +Release Date: November 8, 2009 [EBook #1208] +Last Updated: March 3, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOUTH SEA TALES *** + + + + +Produced by Theresa Armao, and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + SOUTH SEA TALES + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Jack London + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> THE HOUSE OF MAPUHI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> THE WHALE TOOTH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> MAUKI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> “YAH! YAH! YAH!” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> THE HEATHEN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> THE TERRIBLE SOLOMONS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> THE INEVITABLE WHITE MAN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> THE SEED OF McCOY </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + THE HOUSE OF MAPUHI + </h2> + <p> + Despite the heavy clumsiness of her lines, the Aorai handled easily in the + light breeze, and her captain ran her well in before he hove to just + outside the suck of the surf. The atoll of Hikueru lay low on the water, a + circle of pounded coral sand a hundred yards wide, twenty miles in + circumference, and from three to five feet above high-water mark. On the + bottom of the huge and glassy lagoon was much pearl shell, and from the + deck of the schooner, across the slender ring of the atoll, the divers + could be seen at work. But the lagoon had no entrance for even a trading + schooner. With a favoring breeze cutters could win in through the tortuous + and shallow channel, but the schooners lay off and on outside and sent in + their small boats. + </p> + <p> + The Aorai swung out a boat smartly, into which sprang half a dozen + brown-skinned sailors clad only in scarlet loincloths. They took the oars, + while in the stern sheets, at the steering sweep, stood a young man garbed + in the tropic white that marks the European. The golden strain of + Polynesia betrayed itself in the sun-gilt of his fair skin and cast up + golden sheens and lights through the glimmering blue of his eyes. Raoul he + was, Alexandre Raoul, youngest son of Marie Raoul, the wealthy + quarter-caste, who owned and managed half a dozen trading schooners + similar to the Aorai. Across an eddy just outside the entrance, and in and + through and over a boiling tide-rip, the boat fought its way to the + mirrored calm of the lagoon. Young Raoul leaped out upon the white sand + and shook hands with a tall native. The man's chest and shoulders were + magnificent, but the stump of a right arm, beyond the flesh of which the + age-whitened bone projected several inches, attested the encounter with a + shark that had put an end to his diving days and made him a fawner and an + intriguer for small favors. + </p> + <p> + “Have you heard, Alec?” were his first words. “Mapuhi has found a pearl—such + a pearl. Never was there one like it ever fished up in Hikueru, nor in all + the Paumotus, nor in all the world. Buy it from him. He has it now. And + remember that I told you first. He is a fool and you can get it cheap. + Have you any tobacco?” + </p> + <p> + Straight up the beach to a shack under a pandanus tree Raoul headed. He + was his mother's supercargo, and his business was to comb all the Paumotus + for the wealth of copra, shell, and pearls that they yielded up. + </p> + <p> + He was a young supercargo, it was his second voyage in such capacity, and + he suffered much secret worry from his lack of experience in pricing + pearls. But when Mapuhi exposed the pearl to his sight he managed to + suppress the startle it gave him, and to maintain a careless, commercial + expression on his face. For the pearl had struck him a blow. It was large + as a pigeon egg, a perfect sphere, of a whiteness that reflected + opalescent lights from all colors about it. It was alive. Never had he + seen anything like it. When Mapuhi dropped it into his hand he was + surprised by the weight of it. That showed that it was a good pearl. He + examined it closely, through a pocket magnifying glass. It was without + flaw or blemish. The purity of it seemed almost to melt into the + atmosphere out of his hand. In the shade it was softly luminous, gleaming + like a tender moon. So translucently white was it, that when he dropped it + into a glass of water he had difficulty in finding it. So straight and + swiftly had it sunk to the bottom that he knew its weight was excellent. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what do you want for it?” he asked, with a fine assumption of + nonchalance. + </p> + <p> + “I want—” Mapuhi began, and behind him, framing his own dark face, + the dark faces of two women and a girl nodded concurrence in what he + wanted. Their heads were bent forward, they were animated by a suppressed + eagerness, their eyes flashed avariciously. + </p> + <p> + “I want a house,” Mapuhi went on. “It must have a roof of galvanized iron + and an octagon-drop-clock. It must be six fathoms long with a porch all + around. A big room must be in the centre, with a round table in the middle + of it and the octagon-drop-clock on the wall. There must be four bedrooms, + two on each side of the big room, and in each bedroom must be an iron bed, + two chairs, and a washstand. And back of the house must be a kitchen, a + good kitchen, with pots and pans and a stove. And you must build the house + on my island, which is Fakarava.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that all?” Raoul asked incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “There must be a sewing machine,” spoke up Tefara, Mapuhi's wife. + </p> + <p> + “Not forgetting the octagon-drop-clock,” added Nauri, Mapuhi's mother. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is all,” said Mapuhi. + </p> + <p> + Young Raoul laughed. He laughed long and heartily. But while he laughed he + secretly performed problems in mental arithmetic. He had never built a + house in his life, and his notions concerning house building were hazy. + While he laughed, he calculated the cost of the voyage to Tahiti for + materials, of the materials themselves, of the voyage back again to + Fakarava, and the cost of landing the materials and of building the house. + It would come to four thousand French dollars, allowing a margin for + safety—four thousand French dollars were equivalent to twenty + thousand francs. It was impossible. How was he to know the value of such a + pearl? Twenty thousand francs was a lot of money—and of his mother's + money at that. + </p> + <p> + “Mapuhi,” he said, “you are a big fool. Set a money price.” + </p> + <p> + But Mapuhi shook his head, and the three heads behind him shook with his. + </p> + <p> + “I want the house,” he said. “It must be six fathoms long with a porch all + around—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” Raoul interrupted. “I know all about your house, but it won't + do. I'll give you a thousand Chili dollars.” + </p> + <p> + The four heads chorused a silent negative. + </p> + <p> + “And a hundred Chili dollars in trade.” + </p> + <p> + “I want the house,” Mapuhi began. + </p> + <p> + “What good will the house do you?” Raoul demanded. “The first hurricane + that comes along will wash it away. You ought to know.” + </p> + <p> + “Captain Raffy says it looks like a hurricane right now.” + </p> + <p> + “Not on Fakarava,” said Mapuhi. “The land is much higher there. On this + island, yes. Any hurricane can sweep Hikueru. I will have the house on + Fakarava. It must be six fathoms long with a porch all around—” + </p> + <p> + And Raoul listened again to the tale of the house. Several hours he spent + in the endeavor to hammer the house obsession out of Mapuhi's mind; but + Mapuhi's mother and wife, and Ngakura, Mapuhi's daughter, bolstered him in + his resolve for the house. Through the open doorway, while he listened for + the twentieth time to the detailed description of the house that was + wanted, Raoul saw his schooner's second boat draw up on the beach. The + sailors rested on the oars, advertising haste to be gone. The first mate + of the Aorai sprang ashore, exchanged a word with the one-armed native, + then hurried toward Raoul. The day grew suddenly dark, as a squall + obscured the face of the sun. Across the lagoon Raoul could see + approaching the ominous line of the puff of wind. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Raffy says you've got to get to hell outa here,” was the mate's + greeting. “If there's any shell, we've got to run the risk of picking it + up later on—so he says. The barometer's dropped to + twenty-nine-seventy.” + </p> + <p> + The gust of wind struck the pandanus tree overhead and tore through the + palms beyond, flinging half a dozen ripe cocoanuts with heavy thuds to the + ground. Then came the rain out of the distance, advancing with the roar of + a gale of wind and causing the water of the lagoon to smoke in driven + windrows. The sharp rattle of the first drops was on the leaves when Raoul + sprang to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “A thousand Chili dollars, cash down, Mapuhi,” he said. “And two hundred + Chili dollars in trade.” + </p> + <p> + “I want a house—” the other began. + </p> + <p> + “Mapuhi!” Raoul yelled, in order to make himself heard. “You are a fool!” + </p> + <p> + He flung out of the house, and, side by side with the mate, fought his way + down the beach toward the boat. They could not see the boat. The tropic + rain sheeted about them so that they could see only the beach under their + feet and the spiteful little waves from the lagoon that snapped and bit at + the sand. A figure appeared through the deluge. It was Huru-Huru, the man + with the one arm. + </p> + <p> + “Did you get the pearl?” he yelled in Raoul's ear. + </p> + <p> + “Mapuhi is a fool!” was the answering yell, and the next moment they were + lost to each other in the descending water. + </p> + <p> + Half an hour later, Huru-Huru, watching from the seaward side of the + atoll, saw the two boats hoisted in and the Aorai pointing her nose out to + sea. And near her, just come in from the sea on the wings of the squall, + he saw another schooner hove to and dropping a boat into the water. He + knew her. It was the OROHENA, owned by Toriki, the half-caste trader, who + served as his own supercargo and who doubtlessly was even then in the + stern sheets of the boat. Huru-Huru chuckled. He knew that Mapuhi owed + Toriki for trade goods advanced the year before. + </p> + <p> + The squall had passed. The hot sun was blazing down, and the lagoon was + once more a mirror. But the air was sticky like mucilage, and the weight + of it seemed to burden the lungs and make breathing difficult. + </p> + <p> + “Have you heard the news, Toriki?” Huru-Huru asked. “Mapuhi has found a + pearl. Never was there a pearl like it ever fished up in Hikueru, nor + anywhere in the Paumotus, nor anywhere in all the world. Mapuhi is a fool. + Besides, he owes you money. Remember that I told you first. Have you any + tobacco?” + </p> + <p> + And to the grass shack of Mapuhi went Toriki. He was a masterful man, + withal a fairly stupid one. Carelessly he glanced at the wonderful pearl—glanced + for a moment only; and carelessly he dropped it into his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “You are lucky,” he said. “It is a nice pearl. I will give you credit on + the books.” + </p> + <p> + “I want a house,” Mapuhi began, in consternation. “It must be six fathoms—” + </p> + <p> + “Six fathoms your grandmother!” was the trader's retort. “You want to pay + up your debts, that's what you want. You owed me twelve hundred dollars + Chili. Very well; you owe them no longer. The amount is squared. Besides, + I will give you credit for two hundred Chili. If, when I get to Tahiti, + the pearl sells well, I will give you credit for another hundred—that + will make three hundred. But mind, only if the pearl sells well. I may + even lose money on it.” + </p> + <p> + Mapuhi folded his arms in sorrow and sat with bowed head. He had been + robbed of his pearl. In place of the house, he had paid a debt. There was + nothing to show for the pearl. + </p> + <p> + “You are a fool,” said Tefara. + </p> + <p> + “You are a fool,” said Nauri, his mother. “Why did you let the pearl into + his hand?” + </p> + <p> + “What was I to do?” Mapuhi protested. “I owed him the money. He knew I had + the pearl. You heard him yourself ask to see it. I had not told him. He + knew. Somebody else told him. And I owed him the money.” + </p> + <p> + “Mapuhi is a fool,” mimicked Ngakura. + </p> + <p> + She was twelve years old and did not know any better. Mapuhi relieved his + feelings by sending her reeling from a box on the ear; while Tefara and + Nauri burst into tears and continued to upbraid him after the manner of + women. + </p> + <p> + Huru-Huru, watching on the beach, saw a third schooner that he knew heave + to outside the entrance and drop a boat. It was the Hira, well named, for + she was owned by Levy, the German Jew, the greatest pearl buyer of them + all, and, as was well known, Hira was the Tahitian god of fishermen and + thieves. + </p> + <p> + “Have you heard the news?” Huru-Huru asked, as Levy, a fat man with + massive asymmetrical features, stepped out upon the beach. “Mapuhi has + found a pearl. There was never a pearl like it in Hikueru, in all the + Paumotus, in all the world. Mapuhi is a fool. He has sold it to Toriki for + fourteen hundred Chili—I listened outside and heard. Toriki is + likewise a fool. You can buy it from him cheap. Remember that I told you + first. Have you any tobacco?” + </p> + <p> + “Where is Toriki?” + </p> + <p> + “In the house of Captain Lynch, drinking absinthe. He has been there an + hour.” + </p> + <p> + And while Levy and Toriki drank absinthe and chaffered over the pearl, + Huru-Huru listened and heard the stupendous price of twenty-five thousand + francs agreed upon. + </p> + <p> + It was at this time that both the OROHENA and the Hira, running in close + to the shore, began firing guns and signalling frantically. The three men + stepped outside in time to see the two schooners go hastily about and head + off shore, dropping mainsails and flying jibs on the run in the teeth of + the squall that heeled them far over on the whitened water. Then the rain + blotted them out. + </p> + <p> + “They'll be back after it's over,” said Toriki. “We'd better be getting + out of here.” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon the glass has fallen some more,” said Captain Lynch. + </p> + <p> + He was a white-bearded sea-captain, too old for service, who had learned + that the only way to live on comfortable terms with his asthma was on + Hikueru. He went inside to look at the barometer. + </p> + <p> + “Great God!” they heard him exclaim, and rushed in to join him at staring + at a dial, which marked twenty-nine-twenty. + </p> + <p> + Again they came out, this time anxiously to consult sea and sky. The + squall had cleared away, but the sky remained overcast. The two schooners, + under all sail and joined by a third, could be seen making back. A veer in + the wind induced them to slack off sheets, and five minutes afterward a + sudden veer from the opposite quarter caught all three schooners aback, + and those on shore could see the boom-tackles being slacked away or cast + off on the jump. The sound of the surf was loud, hollow, and menacing, and + a heavy swell was setting in. A terrible sheet of lightning burst before + their eyes, illuminating the dark day, and the thunder rolled wildly about + them. + </p> + <p> + Toriki and Levy broke into a run for their boats, the latter ambling along + like a panic-stricken hippopotamus. As their two boats swept out the + entrance, they passed the boat of the Aorai coming in. In the stern + sheets, encouraging the rowers, was Raoul. Unable to shake the vision of + the pearl from his mind, he was returning to accept Mapuhi's price of a + house. + </p> + <p> + He landed on the beach in the midst of a driving thunder squall that was + so dense that he collided with Huru-Huru before he saw him. + </p> + <p> + “Too late,” yelled Huru-Huru. “Mapuhi sold it to Toriki for fourteen + hundred Chili, and Toriki sold it to Levy for twenty-five thousand francs. + And Levy will sell it in France for a hundred thousand francs. Have you + any tobacco?” + </p> + <p> + Raoul felt relieved. His troubles about the pearl were over. He need not + worry any more, even if he had not got the pearl. But he did not believe + Huru-Huru. Mapuhi might well have sold it for fourteen hundred Chili, but + that Levy, who knew pearls, should have paid twenty-five thousand francs + was too wide a stretch. Raoul decided to interview Captain Lynch on the + subject, but when he arrived at that ancient mariner's house, he found him + looking wide-eyed at the barometer. + </p> + <p> + “What do you read it?” Captain Lynch asked anxiously, rubbing his + spectacles and staring again at the instrument. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-nine-ten,” said Raoul. “I have never seen it so low before.” + </p> + <p> + “I should say not!” snorted the captain. “Fifty years boy and man on all + the seas, and I've never seen it go down to that. Listen!” + </p> + <p> + They stood for a moment, while the surf rumbled and shook the house. Then + they went outside. The squall had passed. They could see the Aorai lying + becalmed a mile away and pitching and tossing madly in the tremendous seas + that rolled in stately procession down out of the northeast and flung + themselves furiously upon the coral shore. One of the sailors from the + boat pointed at the mouth of the passage and shook his head. Raoul looked + and saw a white anarchy of foam and surge. + </p> + <p> + “I guess I'll stay with you tonight, Captain,” he said; then turned to the + sailor and told him to haul the boat out and to find shelter for himself + and fellows. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-nine flat,” Captain Lynch reported, coming out from another look + at the barometer, a chair in his hand. + </p> + <p> + He sat down and stared at the spectacle of the sea. The sun came out, + increasing the sultriness of the day, while the dead calm still held. The + seas continued to increase in magnitude. + </p> + <p> + “What makes that sea is what gets me,” Raoul muttered petulantly. + </p> + <p> + “There is no wind, yet look at it, look at that fellow there!” + </p> + <p> + Miles in length, carrying tens of thousands of tons in weight, its impact + shook the frail atoll like an earthquake. Captain Lynch was startled. + </p> + <p> + “Gracious!” he bellowed, half rising from his chair, then sinking back. + </p> + <p> + “But there is no wind,” Raoul persisted. “I could understand it if there + was wind along with it.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll get the wind soon enough without worryin' for it,” was the grim + reply. + </p> + <p> + The two men sat on in silence. The sweat stood out on their skin in + myriads of tiny drops that ran together, forming blotches of moisture, + which, in turn, coalesced into rivulets that dripped to the ground. They + panted for breath, the old man's efforts being especially painful. A sea + swept up the beach, licking around the trunks of the cocoanuts and + subsiding almost at their feet. + </p> + <p> + “Way past high water mark,” Captain Lynch remarked; “and I've been here + eleven years.” He looked at his watch. “It is three o'clock.” + </p> + <p> + A man and woman, at their heels a motley following of brats and curs, + trailed disconsolately by. They came to a halt beyond the house, and, + after much irresolution, sat down in the sand. A few minutes later another + family trailed in from the opposite direction, the men and women carrying + a heterogeneous assortment of possessions. And soon several hundred + persons of all ages and sexes were congregated about the captain's + dwelling. He called to one new arrival, a woman with a nursing babe in her + arms, and in answer received the information that her house had just been + swept into the lagoon. + </p> + <p> + This was the highest spot of land in miles, and already, in many places on + either hand, the great seas were making a clean breach of the slender ring + of the atoll and surging into the lagoon. Twenty miles around stretched + the ring of the atoll, and in no place was it more than fifty fathoms + wide. It was the height of the diving season, and from all the islands + around, even as far as Tahiti, the natives had gathered. + </p> + <p> + “There are twelve hundred men, women, and children here,” said Captain + Lynch. “I wonder how many will be here tomorrow morning.” + </p> + <p> + “But why don't it blow?—that's what I want to know,” Raoul demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Don't worry, young man, don't worry; you'll get your troubles fast + enough.” + </p> + <p> + Even as Captain Lynch spoke, a great watery mass smote the atoll. + </p> + <p> + The sea water churned about them three inches deep under the chairs. A low + wail of fear went up from the many women. The children, with clasped + hands, stared at the immense rollers and cried piteously. Chickens and + cats, wading perturbedly in the water, as by common consent, with flight + and scramble took refuge on the roof of the captain's house. A Paumotan, + with a litter of new-born puppies in a basket, climbed into a cocoanut + tree and twenty feet above the ground made the basket fast. The mother + floundered about in the water beneath, whining and yelping. + </p> + <p> + And still the sun shone brightly and the dead calm continued. They sat and + watched the seas and the insane pitching of the Aorai. Captain Lynch gazed + at the huge mountains of water sweeping in until he could gaze no more. He + covered his face with his hands to shut out the sight; then went into the + house. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-eight-sixty,” he said quietly when he returned. + </p> + <p> + In his arm was a coil of small rope. He cut it into two-fathom lengths, + giving one to Raoul and, retaining one for himself, distributed the + remainder among the women with the advice to pick out a tree and climb. + </p> + <p> + A light air began to blow out of the northeast, and the fan of it on his + cheek seemed to cheer Raoul up. He could see the Aorai trimming her sheets + and heading off shore, and he regretted that he was not on her. She would + get away at any rate, but as for the atoll—A sea breached across, + almost sweeping him off his feet, and he selected a tree. Then he + remembered the barometer and ran back to the house. He encountered Captain + Lynch on the same errand and together they went in. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-eight-twenty,” said the old mariner. “It's going to be fair hell + around here—what was that?” + </p> + <p> + The air seemed filled with the rush of something. The house quivered and + vibrated, and they heard the thrumming of a mighty note of sound. The + windows rattled. Two panes crashed; a draught of wind tore in, striking + them and making them stagger. The door opposite banged shut, shattering + the latch. The white door knob crumbled in fragments to the floor. The + room's walls bulged like a gas balloon in the process of sudden inflation. + Then came a new sound like the rattle of musketry, as the spray from a sea + struck the wall of the house. Captain Lynch looked at his watch. It was + four o'clock. He put on a coat of pilot cloth, unhooked the barometer, and + stowed it away in a capacious pocket. Again a sea struck the house, with a + heavy thud, and the light building tilted, twisted, quarter around on its + foundation, and sank down, its floor at an angle of ten degrees. + </p> + <p> + Raoul went out first. The wind caught him and whirled him away. He noted + that it had hauled around to the east. With a great effort he threw + himself on the sand, crouching and holding his own. Captain Lynch, driven + like a wisp of straw, sprawled over him. Two of the Aorai's sailors, + leaving a cocoanut tree to which they had been clinging, came to their + aid, leaning against the wind at impossible angles and fighting and + clawing every inch of the way. + </p> + <p> + The old man's joints were stiff and he could not climb, so the sailors, by + means of short ends of rope tied together, hoisted him up the trunk, a few + feet at a time, till they could make him fast, at the top of the tree, + fifty feet from the ground. Raoul passed his length of rope around the + base of an adjacent tree and stood looking on. The wind was frightful. He + had never dreamed it could blow so hard. A sea breached across the atoll, + wetting him to the knees ere it subsided into the lagoon. The sun had + disappeared, and a lead-colored twilight settled down. A few drops of + rain, driving horizontally, struck him. The impact was like that of leaden + pellets. A splash of salt spray struck his face. It was like the slap of a + man's hand. His cheeks stung, and involuntary tears of pain were in his + smarting eyes. Several hundred natives had taken to the trees, and he + could have laughed at the bunches of human fruit clustering in the tops. + Then, being Tahitian-born, he doubled his body at the waist, clasped the + trunk of his tree with his hands, pressed the soles of his feet against + the near surface of the trunk, and began to walk up the tree. At the top + he found two women, two children, and a man. One little girl clasped a + housecat in her arms. + </p> + <p> + From his eyrie he waved his hand to Captain Lynch, and that doughty + patriarch waved back. Raoul was appalled at the sky. It had approached + much nearer—in fact, it seemed just over his head; and it had turned + from lead to black. Many people were still on the ground grouped about the + bases of the trees and holding on. Several such clusters were praying, and + in one the Mormon missionary was exhorting. A weird sound, rhythmical, + faint as the faintest chirp of a far cricket, enduring but for a moment, + but in the moment suggesting to him vaguely the thought of heaven and + celestial music, came to his ear. He glanced about him and saw, at the + base of another tree, a large cluster of people holding on by ropes and by + one another. He could see their faces working and their lips moving in + unison. No sound came to him, but he knew that they were singing hymns. + </p> + <p> + Still the wind continued to blow harder. By no conscious process could he + measure it, for it had long since passed beyond all his experience of + wind; but he knew somehow, nevertheless, that it was blowing harder. Not + far away a tree was uprooted, flinging its load of human beings to the + ground. A sea washed across the strip of sand, and they were gone. Things + were happening quickly. He saw a brown shoulder and a black head + silhouetted against the churning white of the lagoon. The next instant + that, too, had vanished. Other trees were going, falling and + criss-crossing like matches. He was amazed at the power of the wind. His + own tree was swaying perilously, one woman was wailing and clutching the + little girl, who in turn still hung on to the cat. + </p> + <p> + The man, holding the other child, touched Raoul's arm and pointed. He + looked and saw the Mormon church careering drunkenly a hundred feet away. + It had been torn from its foundations, and wind and sea were heaving and + shoving it toward the lagoon. A frightful wall of water caught it, tilted + it, and flung it against half a dozen cocoanut trees. The bunches of human + fruit fell like ripe cocoanuts. The subsiding wave showed them on the + ground, some lying motionless, others squirming and writhing. They + reminded him strangely of ants. He was not shocked. He had risen above + horror. Quite as a matter of course he noted the succeeding wave sweep the + sand clean of the human wreckage. A third wave, more colossal than any he + had yet seen, hurled the church into the lagoon, where it floated off into + the obscurity to leeward, half-submerged, reminding him for all the world + of a Noah's ark. + </p> + <p> + He looked for Captain Lynch's house, and was surprised to find it gone. + Things certainly were happening quickly. He noticed that many of the + people in the trees that still held had descended to the ground. The wind + had yet again increased. His own tree showed that. It no longer swayed or + bent over and back. Instead, it remained practically stationary, curved in + a rigid angle from the wind and merely vibrating. But the vibration was + sickening. It was like that of a tuning-fork or the tongue of a + jew's-harp. It was the rapidity of the vibration that made it so bad. Even + though its roots held, it could not stand the strain for long. Something + would have to break. + </p> + <p> + Ah, there was one that had gone. He had not seen it go, but there it + stood, the remnant, broken off half-way up the trunk. One did not know + what happened unless he saw it. The mere crashing of trees and wails of + human despair occupied no place in that mighty volume of sound. He chanced + to be looking in Captain Lynch's direction when it happened. He saw the + trunk of the tree, half-way up, splinter and part without noise. The head + of the tree, with three sailors of the Aorai and the old captain sailed + off over the lagoon. It did not fall to the ground, but drove through the + air like a piece of chaff. For a hundred yards he followed its flight, + when it struck the water. He strained his eyes, and was sure that he saw + Captain Lynch wave farewell. + </p> + <p> + Raoul did not wait for anything more. He touched the native and made signs + to descend to the ground. The man was willing, but his women were + paralyzed from terror, and he elected to remain with them. Raoul passed + his rope around the tree and slid down. A rush of salt water went over his + head. He held his breath and clung desperately to the rope. The water + subsided, and in the shelter of the trunk he breathed once more. He + fastened the rope more securely, and then was put under by another sea. + One of the women slid down and joined him, the native remaining by the + other woman, the two children, and the cat. + </p> + <p> + The supercargo had noticed how the groups clinging at the bases of the + other trees continually diminished. Now he saw the process work out + alongside him. It required all his strength to hold on, and the woman who + had joined him was growing weaker. Each time he emerged from a sea he was + surprised to find himself still there, and next, surprised to find the + woman still there. At last he emerged to find himself alone. He looked up. + The top of the tree had gone as well. At half its original height, a + splintered end vibrated. He was safe. The roots still held, while the tree + had been shorn of its windage. He began to climb up. He was so weak that + he went slowly, and sea after sea caught him before he was above them. + Then he tied himself to the trunk and stiffened his soul to face the night + and he knew not what. + </p> + <p> + He felt very lonely in the darkness. At times it seemed to him that it was + the end of the world and that he was the last one left alive. Still the + wind increased. Hour after hour it increased. By what he calculated was + eleven o'clock, the wind had become unbelievable. It was a horrible, + monstrous thing, a screaming fury, a wall that smote and passed on but + that continued to smite and pass on—a wall without end. It seemed to + him that he had become light and ethereal; that it was he that was in + motion; that he was being driven with inconceivable velocity through + unending solidness. The wind was no longer air in motion. It had become + substantial as water or quicksilver. He had a feeling that he could reach + into it and tear it out in chunks as one might do with the meat in the + carcass of a steer; that he could seize hold of the wind and hang on to it + as a man might hang on to the face of a cliff. + </p> + <p> + The wind strangled him. He could not face it and breathe, for it rushed in + through his mouth and nostrils, distending his lungs like bladders. At + such moments it seemed to him that his body was being packed and swollen + with solid earth. Only by pressing his lips to the trunk of the tree could + he breathe. Also, the ceaseless impact of the wind exhausted him. Body and + brain became wearied. He no longer observed, no longer thought, and was + but semiconscious. One idea constituted his consciousness: SO THIS WAS A + HURRICANE. That one idea persisted irregularly. It was like a feeble flame + that flickered occasionally. From a state of stupor he would return to it—SO + THIS WAS A HURRICANE. Then he would go off into another stupor. + </p> + <p> + The height of the hurricane endured from eleven at night till three in the + morning, and it was at eleven that the tree in which clung Mapuhi and his + women snapped off. Mapuhi rose to the surface of the lagoon, still + clutching his daughter Ngakura. Only a South Sea islander could have lived + in such a driving smother. The pandanus tree, to which he attached + himself, turned over and over in the froth and churn; and it was only by + holding on at times and waiting, and at other times shifting his grips + rapidly, that he was able to get his head and Ngakura's to the surface at + intervals sufficiently near together to keep the breath in them. But the + air was mostly water, what with flying spray and sheeted rain that poured + along at right angles to the perpendicular. + </p> + <p> + It was ten miles across the lagoon to the farther ring of sand. Here, + tossing tree trunks, timbers, wrecks of cutters, and wreckage of houses, + killed nine out of ten of the miserable beings who survived the passage of + the lagoon. Half-drowned, exhausted, they were hurled into this mad mortar + of the elements and battered into formless flesh. But Mapuhi was + fortunate. His chance was the one in ten; it fell to him by the freakage + of fate. He emerged upon the sand, bleeding from a score of wounds. + </p> + <p> + Ngakura's left arm was broken; the fingers of her right hand were crushed; + and cheek and forehead were laid open to the bone. He clutched a tree that + yet stood, and clung on, holding the girl and sobbing for air, while the + waters of the lagoon washed by knee-high and at times waist-high. + </p> + <p> + At three in the morning the backbone of the hurricane broke. By five no + more than a stiff breeze was blowing. And by six it was dead calm and the + sun was shining. The sea had gone down. On the yet restless edge of the + lagoon, Mapuhi saw the broken bodies of those that had failed in the + landing. Undoubtedly Tefara and Nauri were among them. He went along the + beach examining them, and came upon his wife, lying half in and half out + of the water. He sat down and wept, making harsh animal noises after the + manner of primitive grief. Then she stirred uneasily, and groaned. He + looked more closely. Not only was she alive, but she was uninjured. She + was merely sleeping. Hers also had been the one chance in ten. + </p> + <p> + Of the twelve hundred alive the night before but three hundred remained. + The Mormon missionary and a gendarme made the census. The lagoon was + cluttered with corpses. Not a house nor a hut was standing. In the whole + atoll not two stones remained one upon another. One in fifty of the + cocoanut palms still stood, and they were wrecks, while on not one of them + remained a single nut. + </p> + <p> + There was no fresh water. The shallow wells that caught the surface + seepage of the rain were filled with salt. Out of the lagoon a few soaked + bags of flour were recovered. The survivors cut the hearts out of the + fallen cocoanut trees and ate them. Here and there they crawled into tiny + hutches, made by hollowing out the sand and covering over with fragments + of metal roofing. The missionary made a crude still, but he could not + distill water for three hundred persons. By the end of the second day, + Raoul, taking a bath in the lagoon, discovered that his thirst was + somewhat relieved. He cried out the news, and thereupon three hundred men, + women, and children could have been seen, standing up to their necks in + the lagoon and trying to drink water in through their skins. Their dead + floated about them, or were stepped upon where they still lay upon the + bottom. On the third day the people buried their dead and sat down to wait + for the rescue steamers. + </p> + <p> + In the meantime, Nauri, torn from her family by the hurricane, had been + swept away on an adventure of her own. Clinging to a rough plank that + wounded and bruised her and that filled her body with splinters, she was + thrown clear over the atoll and carried away to sea. Here, under the + amazing buffets of mountains of water, she lost her plank. She was an old + woman nearly sixty; but she was Paumotan-born, and she had never been out + of sight of the sea in her life. Swimming in the darkness, strangling, + suffocating, fighting for air, she was struck a heavy blow on the shoulder + by a cocoanut. On the instant her plan was formed, and she seized the nut. + In the next hour she captured seven more. Tied together, they formed a + life-buoy that preserved her life while at the same time it threatened to + pound her to a jelly. She was a fat woman, and she bruised easily; but she + had had experience of hurricanes, and while she prayed to her shark god + for protection from sharks, she waited for the wind to break. But at three + o'clock she was in such a stupor that she did not know. Nor did she know + at six o'clock when the dead calm settled down. She was shocked into + consciousness when she was thrown upon the sand. She dug in with raw and + bleeding hands and feet and clawed against the backwash until she was + beyond the reach of the waves. + </p> + <p> + She knew where she was. This land could be no other than the tiny islet of + Takokota. It had no lagoon. No one lived upon it. + </p> + <p> + Hikueru was fifteen miles away. She could not see Hikueru, but she knew + that it lay to the south. The days went by, and she lived on the cocoanuts + that had kept her afloat. They supplied her with drinking water and with + food. But she did not drink all she wanted, nor eat all she wanted. Rescue + was problematical. She saw the smoke of the rescue steamers on the + horizon, but what steamer could be expected to come to lonely, uninhabited + Takokota? + </p> + <p> + From the first she was tormented by corpses. The sea persisted in flinging + them upon her bit of sand, and she persisted, until her strength failed, + in thrusting them back into the sea where the sharks tore at them and + devoured them. When her strength failed, the bodies festooned her beach + with ghastly horror, and she withdrew from them as far as she could, which + was not far. + </p> + <p> + By the tenth day her last cocoanut was gone, and she was shrivelling from + thirst. She dragged herself along the sand, looking for cocoanuts. It was + strange that so many bodies floated up, and no nuts. Surely, there were + more cocoanuts afloat than dead men! She gave up at last, and lay + exhausted. The end had come. Nothing remained but to wait for death. + </p> + <p> + Coming out of a stupor, she became slowly aware that she was gazing at a + patch of sandy-red hair on the head of a corpse. The sea flung the body + toward her, then drew it back. It turned over, and she saw that it had no + face. Yet there was something familiar about that patch of sandy-red hair. + An hour passed. She did not exert herself to make the identification. She + was waiting to die, and it mattered little to her what man that thing of + horror once might have been. + </p> + <p> + But at the end of the hour she sat up slowly and stared at the corpse. An + unusually large wave had thrown it beyond the reach of the lesser waves. + Yes, she was right; that patch of red hair could belong to but one man in + the Paumotus. It was Levy, the German Jew, the man who had bought the + pearl and carried it away on the Hira. Well, one thing was evident: The + Hira had been lost. The pearl buyer's god of fishermen and thieves had + gone back on him. + </p> + <p> + She crawled down to the dead man. His shirt had been torn away, and she + could see the leather money belt about his waist. She held her breath and + tugged at the buckles. They gave easier than she had expected, and she + crawled hurriedly away across the sand, dragging the belt after her. + Pocket after pocket she unbuckled in the belt and found empty. Where could + he have put it? In the last pocket of all she found it, the first and only + pearl he had bought on the voyage. She crawled a few feet farther, to + escape the pestilence of the belt, and examined the pearl. It was the one + Mapuhi had found and been robbed of by Toriki. She weighed it in her hand + and rolled it back and forth caressingly. But in it she saw no intrinsic + beauty. What she did see was the house Mapuhi and Tefara and she had + builded so carefully in their minds. Each time she looked at the pearl she + saw the house in all its details, including the octagon-drop-clock on the + wall. That was something to live for. + </p> + <p> + She tore a strip from her ahu and tied the pearl securely about her neck. + Then she went on along the beach, panting and groaning, but resolutely + seeking for cocoanuts. Quickly she found one, and, as she glanced around, + a second. She broke one, drinking its water, which was mildewy, and eating + the last particle of the meat. A little later she found a shattered + dugout. Its outrigger was gone, but she was hopeful, and, before the day + was out, she found the outrigger. Every find was an augury. The pearl was + a talisman. Late in the afternoon she saw a wooden box floating low in the + water. When she dragged it out on the beach its contents rattled, and + inside she found ten tins of salmon. She opened one by hammering it on the + canoe. When a leak was started, she drained the tin. After that she spent + several hours in extracting the salmon, hammering and squeezing it out a + morsel at a time. + </p> + <p> + Eight days longer she waited for rescue. In the meantime she fastened the + outrigger back on the canoe, using for lashings all the cocoanut fibre she + could find, and also what remained of her ahu. The canoe was badly + cracked, and she could not make it water-tight; but a calabash made from a + cocoanut she stored on board for a bailer. She was hard put for a paddle. + With a piece of tin she sawed off all her hair close to the scalp. Out of + the hair she braided a cord; and by means of the cord she lashed a + three-foot piece of broom handle to a board from the salmon case. + </p> + <p> + She gnawed wedges with her teeth and with them wedged the lashing. + </p> + <p> + On the eighteenth day, at midnight, she launched the canoe through the + surf and started back for Hikueru. She was an old woman. Hardship had + stripped her fat from her till scarcely more than bones and skin and a few + stringy muscles remained. The canoe was large and should have been paddled + by three strong men. + </p> + <p> + But she did it alone, with a make-shift paddle. Also, the canoe leaked + badly, and one-third of her time was devoted to bailing. By clear daylight + she looked vainly for Hikueru. Astern, Takokota had sunk beneath the sea + rim. The sun blazed down on her nakedness, compelling her body to + surrender its moisture. Two tins of salmon were left, and in the course of + the day she battered holes in them and drained the liquid. She had no time + to waste in extracting the meat. A current was setting to the westward, + she made westing whether she made southing or not. + </p> + <p> + In the early afternoon, standing upright in the canoe, she sighted + Hikueru. Its wealth of cocoanut palms was gone. Only here and there, at + wide intervals, could she see the ragged remnants of trees. The sight + cheered her. She was nearer than she had thought. The current was setting + her to the westward. She bore up against it and paddled on. The wedges in + the paddle lashing worked loose, and she lost much time, at frequent + intervals, in driving them tight. Then there was the bailing. One hour in + three she had to cease paddling in order to bail. And all the time she + drifted to the westward. + </p> + <p> + By sunset Hikueru bore southeast from her, three miles away. There was a + full moon, and by eight o'clock the land was due east and two miles away. + She struggled on for another hour, but the land was as far away as ever. + She was in the main grip of the current; the canoe was too large; the + paddle was too inadequate; and too much of her time and strength was + wasted in bailing. Besides, she was very weak and growing weaker. Despite + her efforts, the canoe was drifting off to the westward. + </p> + <p> + She breathed a prayer to her shark god, slipped over the side, and began + to swim. She was actually refreshed by the water, and quickly left the + canoe astern. At the end of an hour the land was perceptibly nearer. Then + came her fright. Right before her eyes, not twenty feet away, a large fin + cut the water. She swam steadily toward it, and slowly it glided away, + curving off toward the right and circling around her. She kept her eyes on + the fin and swam on. When the fin disappeared, she lay face downward in + the water and watched. When the fin reappeared she resumed her swimming. + The monster was lazy—she could see that. Without doubt he had been + well fed since the hurricane. Had he been very hungry, she knew he would + not have hesitated from making a dash for her. He was fifteen feet long, + and one bite, she knew, could cut her in half. + </p> + <p> + But she did not have any time to waste on him. Whether she swam or not, + the current drew away from the land just the same. A half hour went by, + and the shark began to grow bolder. Seeing no harm in her he drew closer, + in narrowing circles, cocking his eyes at her impudently as he slid past. + Sooner or later, she knew well enough, he would get up sufficient courage + to dash at her. She resolved to play first. It was a desperate act she + meditated. She was an old woman, alone in the sea and weak from starvation + and hardship; and yet she, in the face of this sea tiger, must anticipate + his dash by herself dashing at him. She swam on, waiting her chance. At + last he passed languidly by, barely eight feet away. She rushed at him + suddenly, feigning that she was attacking him. He gave a wild flirt of his + tail as he fled away, and his sandpaper hide, striking her, took off her + skin from elbow to shoulder. He swam rapidly, in a widening circle, and at + last disappeared. + </p> + <p> + In the hole in the sand, covered over by fragments of metal roofing, + Mapuhi and Tefara lay disputing. + </p> + <p> + “If you had done as I said,” charged Tefara, for the thousandth time, “and + hidden the pearl and told no one, you would have it now.” + </p> + <p> + “But Huru-Huru was with me when I opened the shell—have I not told + you so times and times and times without end?” + </p> + <p> + “And now we shall have no house. Raoul told me today that if you had not + sold the pearl to Toriki—” + </p> + <p> + “I did not sell it. Toriki robbed me.” + </p> + <p> + “—that if you had not sold the pearl, he would give you five + thousand French dollars, which is ten thousand Chili.” + </p> + <p> + “He has been talking to his mother,” Mapuhi explained. “She has an eye for + a pearl.” + </p> + <p> + “And now the pearl is lost,” Tefara complained. + </p> + <p> + “It paid my debt with Toriki. That is twelve hundred I have made, anyway.” + </p> + <p> + “Toriki is dead,” she cried. “They have heard no word of his schooner. She + was lost along with the Aorai and the Hira. Will Toriki pay you the three + hundred credit he promised? No, because Toriki is dead. And had you found + no pearl, would you today owe Toriki the twelve hundred? No, because + Toriki is dead, and you cannot pay dead men.” + </p> + <p> + “But Levy did not pay Toriki,” Mapuhi said. “He gave him a piece of paper + that was good for the money in Papeete; and now Levy is dead and cannot + pay; and Toriki is dead and the paper lost with him, and the pearl is lost + with Levy. You are right, Tefara. I have lost the pearl, and got nothing + for it. Now let us sleep.” + </p> + <p> + He held up his hand suddenly and listened. From without came a noise, as + of one who breathed heavily and with pain. A hand fumbled against the mat + that served for a door. + </p> + <p> + “Who is there?” Mapuhi cried. + </p> + <p> + “Nauri,” came the answer. “Can you tell me where is my son, Mapuhi?” + </p> + <p> + Tefara screamed and gripped her husband's arm. + </p> + <p> + “A ghost!” she chattered. “A ghost!” + </p> + <p> + Mapuhi's face was a ghastly yellow. He clung weakly to his wife. + </p> + <p> + “Good woman,” he said in faltering tones, striving to disguise his vice, + “I know your son well. He is living on the east side of the lagoon.” + </p> + <p> + From without came the sound of a sigh. Mapuhi began to feel elated. He had + fooled the ghost. + </p> + <p> + “But where do you come from, old woman?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “From the sea,” was the dejected answer. + </p> + <p> + “I knew it! I knew it!” screamed Tefara, rocking to and fro. + </p> + <p> + “Since when has Tefara bedded in a strange house?” came Nauri's voice + through the matting. + </p> + <p> + Mapuhi looked fear and reproach at his wife. It was her voice that had + betrayed them. + </p> + <p> + “And since when has Mapuhi, my son, denied his old mother?” the voice went + on. + </p> + <p> + “No, no, I have not—Mapuhi has not denied you,” he cried. “I am not + Mapuhi. He is on the east end of the lagoon, I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + Ngakura sat up in bed and began to cry. The matting started to shake. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing?” Mapuhi demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I am coming in,” said the voice of Nauri. + </p> + <p> + One end of the matting lifted. Tefara tried to dive under the blankets, + but Mapuhi held on to her. He had to hold on to something. Together, + struggling with each other, with shivering bodies and chattering teeth, + they gazed with protruding eyes at the lifting mat. They saw Nauri, + dripping with sea water, without her ahu, creep in. They rolled over + backward from her and fought for Ngakura's blanket with which to cover + their heads. + </p> + <p> + “You might give your old mother a drink of water,” the ghost said + plaintively. + </p> + <p> + “Give her a drink of water,” Tefara commanded in a shaking voice. + </p> + <p> + “Give her a drink of water,” Mapuhi passed on the command to Ngakura. + </p> + <p> + And together they kicked out Ngakura from under the blanket. A minute + later, peeping, Mapuhi saw the ghost drinking. When it reached out a + shaking hand and laid it on his, he felt the weight of it and was + convinced that it was no ghost. Then he emerged, dragging Tefara after + him, and in a few minutes all were listening to Nauri's tale. And when she + told of Levy, and dropped the pearl into Tefara's hand, even she was + reconciled to the reality of her mother-in-law. + </p> + <p> + “In the morning,” said Tefara, “you will sell the pearl to Raoul for five + thousand French.” + </p> + <p> + “The house?” objected Nauri. + </p> + <p> + “He will build the house,” Tefara answered. “He ways it will cost four + thousand French. Also will he give one thousand French in credit, which is + two thousand Chili.” + </p> + <p> + “And it will be six fathoms long?” Nauri queried. + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” answered Mapuhi, “six fathoms.” + </p> + <p> + “And in the middle room will be the octagon-drop-clock?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, and the round table as well.” + </p> + <p> + “Then give me something to eat, for I am hungry,” said Nauri, + complacently. “And after that we will sleep, for I am weary. And tomorrow + we will have more talk about the house before we sell the pearl. It will + be better if we take the thousand French in cash. Money is ever better + than credit in buying goods from the traders.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE WHALE TOOTH + </h2> + <p> + It was in the early days in Fiji, when John Starhurst arose in the mission + house at Rewa Village and announced his intention of carrying the gospel + throughout all Viti Levu. Now Viti Levu means the “Great Land,” it being + the largest island in a group composed of many large islands, to say + nothing of hundreds of small ones. Here and there on the coasts, living by + most precarious tenure, was a sprinkling of missionaries, traders, + bêche-de-mer fishers, and whaleship deserters. The smoke of the hot ovens + arose under their windows, and the bodies of the slain were dragged by + their doors on the way to the feasting. + </p> + <p> + The Lotu, or the Worship, was progressing slowly, and, often, in crablike + fashion. Chiefs, who announced themselves Christians and were welcomed + into the body of the chapel, had a distressing habit of backsliding in + order to partake of the flesh of some favorite enemy. Eat or be eaten had + been the law of the land; and eat or be eaten promised to remain the law + of the land for a long time to come. There were chiefs, such as Tanoa, + Tuiveikoso, and Tuikilakila, who had literally eaten hundreds of their + fellow men. But among these gluttons Ra Undreundre ranked highest. Ra + Undreundre lived at Takiraki. He kept a register of his gustatory + exploits. A row of stones outside his house marked the bodies he had + eaten. This row was two hundred and thirty paces long, and the stones in + it numbered eight hundred and seventy-two. Each stone represented a body. + The row of stones might have been longer, had not Ra Undreundre + unfortunately received a spear in the small of his back in a bush skirmish + on Somo Somo and been served up on the table of Naungavuli, whose mediocre + string of stones numbered only forty-eight. + </p> + <p> + The hard-worked, fever-stricken missionaries stuck doggedly to their task, + at times despairing, and looking forward for some special manifestation, + some outburst of Pentecostal fire that would bring a glorious harvest of + souls. But cannibal Fiji had remained obdurate. The frizzle-headed + man-eaters were loath to leave their fleshpots so long as the harvest of + human carcases was plentiful. Sometimes, when the harvest was too + plentiful, they imposed on the missionaries by letting the word slip out + that on such a day there would be a killing and a barbecue. Promptly the + missionaries would buy the lives of the victims with stick tobacco, + fathoms of calico, and quarts of trade beads. Natheless the chiefs drove a + handsome trade in thus disposing of their surplus live meat. Also, they + could always go out and catch more. + </p> + <p> + It was at this juncture that John Starhurst proclaimed that he would carry + the Gospel from coast to coast of the Great Land, and that he would begin + by penetrating the mountain fastnesses of the headwaters of the Rewa + River. His words were received with consternation. + </p> + <p> + The native teachers wept softly. His two fellow missionaries strove to + dissuade him. The King of Rewa warned him that the mountain dwellers would + surely kai-kai him—kai-kai meaning “to eat”—and that he, the + King of Rewa, having become Lotu, would be put to the necessity of going + to war with the mountain dwellers. That he could not conquer them he was + perfectly aware. That they might come down the river and sack Rewa Village + he was likewise perfectly aware. But what was he to do? If John Starhurst + persisted in going out and being eaten, there would be a war that would + cost hundreds of lives. + </p> + <p> + Later in the day a deputation of Rewa chiefs waited upon John Starhurst. + He heard them patiently, and argued patiently with them, though he abated + not a whit from his purpose. To his fellow missionaries he explained that + he was not bent upon martyrdom; that the call had come for him to carry + the Gospel into Viti Levu, and that he was merely obeying the Lord's wish. + </p> + <p> + To the traders who came and objected most strenuously of all, he said: + “Your objections are valueless. They consist merely of the damage that may + be done your businesses. You are interested in making money, but I am + interested in saving souls. The heathen of this dark land must be saved.” + </p> + <p> + John Starhurst was not a fanatic. He would have been the first man to deny + the imputation. He was eminently sane and practical. + </p> + <p> + He was sure that his mission would result in good, and he had private + visions of igniting the Pentecostal spark in the souls of the mountaineers + and of inaugurating a revival that would sweep down out of the mountains + and across the length and breadth of the Great Land from sea to sea and to + the isles in the midst of the sea. There were no wild lights in his mild + gray eyes, but only calm resolution and an unfaltering trust in the Higher + Power that was guiding him. + </p> + <p> + One man only he found who approved of his project, and that was Ra Vatu, + who secretly encouraged him and offered to lend him guides to the first + foothills. John Starhurst, in turn, was greatly pleased by Ra Vatu's + conduct. From an incorrigible heathen, with a heart as black as his + practices, Ra Vatu was beginning to emanate light. He even spoke of + becoming Lotu. True, three years before he had expressed a similar + intention, and would have entered the church had not John Starhurst + entered objection to his bringing his four wives along with him. Ra Vatu + had had economic and ethical objections to monogamy. Besides, the + missionary's hair-splitting objection had offended him; and, to prove that + he was a free agent and a man of honor, he had swung his huge war club + over Starhurst's head. Starhurst had escaped by rushing in under the club + and holding on to him until help arrived. But all that was now forgiven + and forgotten. Ra Vatu was coming into the church, not merely as a + converted heathen, but as a converted polygamist as well. He was only + waiting, he assured Starhurst, until his oldest wife, who was very sick, + should die. + </p> + <p> + John Starhurst journeyed up the sluggish Rewa in one of Ra Vatu's canoes. + This canoe was to carry him for two days, when, the head of navigation + reached, it would return. Far in the distance, lifted into the sky, could + be seen the great smoky mountains that marked the backbone of the Great + Land. All day John Starhurst gazed at them with eager yearning. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes he prayed silently. At other times he was joined in prayer by + Narau, a native teacher, who for seven years had been Lotu, ever since the + day he had been saved from the hot oven by Dr. James Ellery Brown at the + trifling expense of one hundred sticks of tobacco, two cotton blankets, + and a large bottle of painkiller. At the last moment, after twenty hours + of solitary supplication and prayer, Narau's ears had heard the call to go + forth with John Starhurst on the mission to the mountains. + </p> + <p> + “Master, I will surely go with thee,” he had announced. + </p> + <p> + John Starhurst had hailed him with sober delight. Truly, the Lord was with + him thus to spur on so broken-spirited a creature as Narau. + </p> + <p> + “I am indeed without spirit, the weakest of the Lord's vessels,” Narau + explained, the first day in the canoe. + </p> + <p> + “You should have faith, stronger faith,” the missionary chided him. + </p> + <p> + Another canoe journeyed up the Rewa that day. But it journeyed an hour + astern, and it took care not to be seen. This canoe was also the property + of Ra Vatu. In it was Erirola, Ra Vatu's first cousin and trusted + henchman; and in the small basket that never left his hand was a whale + tooth. It was a magnificent tooth, fully six inches long, beautifully + proportioned, the ivory turned yellow and purple with age. This tooth was + likewise the property of Ra Vatu; and in Fiji, when such a tooth goes + forth, things usually happen. For this is the virtue of the whale tooth: + Whoever accepts it cannot refuse the request that may accompany it or + follow it. The request may be anything from a human life to a tribal + alliance, and no Fijian is so dead to honor as to deny the request when + once the tooth has been accepted. Sometimes the request hangs fire, or the + fulfilment is delayed, with untoward consequences. + </p> + <p> + High up the Rewa, at the village of a chief, Mongondro by name, John + Starhurst rested at the end of the second day of the journey. In the + morning, attended by Narau, he expected to start on foot for the smoky + mountains that were now green and velvety with nearness. Mongondro was a + sweet-tempered, mild-mannered little old chief, short-sighted and + afflicted with elephantiasis, and no longer inclined toward the turbulence + of war. He received the missionary with warm hospitality, gave him food + from his own table, and even discussed religious matters with him. + Mongondro was of an inquiring bent of mind, and pleased John Starhurst + greatly by asking him to account for the existence and beginning of + things. When the missionary had finished his summary of the Creation + according to Genesis, he saw that Mongondro was deeply affected. The + little old chief smoked silently for some time. Then he took the pipe from + his mouth and shook his head sadly. + </p> + <p> + “It cannot be,” he said. “I, Mongondro, in my youth, was a good workman + with the adze. Yet three months did it take me to make a canoe—a + small canoe, a very small canoe. And you say that all this land and water + was made by one man—” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, was made by one God, the only true God,” the missionary interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “It is the same thing,” Mongondro went on, “that all the land and all the + water, the trees, the fish, and bush and mountains, the sun, the moon, and + the stars, were made in six days! No, no. I tell you that in my youth I + was an able man, yet did it require me three months for one small canoe. + It is a story to frighten children with; but no man can believe it.” + </p> + <p> + “I am a man,” the missionary said. + </p> + <p> + “True, you are a man. But it is not given to my dark understanding to know + what you believe.” + </p> + <p> + “I tell you, I do believe that everything was made in six days.” + </p> + <p> + “So you say, so you say,” the old cannibal murmured soothingly. + </p> + <p> + It was not until after John Starhurst and Narau had gone off to bed that + Erirola crept into the chief's house, and, after diplomatic speech, handed + the whale tooth to Mongondro. + </p> + <p> + The old chief held the tooth in his hands for a long time. It was a + beautiful tooth, and he yearned for it. Also, he divined the request that + must accompany it. “No, no; whale teeth were beautiful,” and his mouth + watered for it, but he passed it back to Erirola with many apologies. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + In the early dawn John Starhurst was afoot, striding along the bush trail + in his big leather boots, at his heels the faithful Narau, himself at the + heels of a naked guide lent him by Mongondro to show the way to the next + village, which was reached by midday. Here a new guide showed the way. A + mile in the rear plodded Erirola, the whale tooth in the basket slung on + his shoulder. For two days more he brought up the missionary's rear, + offering the tooth to the village chiefs. But village after village + refused the tooth. It followed so quickly the missionary's advent that + they divined the request that would be made, and would have none of it. + </p> + <p> + They were getting deep into the mountains, and Erirola took a secret + trail, cut in ahead of the missionary, and reached the stronghold of the + Buli of Gatoka. Now the Buli was unaware of John Starhurst's imminent + arrival. Also, the tooth was beautiful—an extraordinary specimen, + while the coloring of it was of the rarest order. The tooth was presented + publicly. The Buli of Gatoka, seated on his best mat, surrounded by his + chief men, three busy fly-brushers at his back, deigned to receive from + the hand of his herald the whale tooth presented by Ra Vatu and carried + into the mountains by his cousin, Erirola. A clapping of hands went up at + the acceptance of the present, the assembled headman, heralds, and + fly-brushers crying aloud in chorus: + </p> + <p> + “A! woi! woi! woi! A! woi! woi! woi! A tabua levu! woi! woi! A mudua, + mudua, mudua!' + </p> + <p> + “Soon will come a man, a white man,” Erirola began, after the proper + pause. “He is a missionary man, and he will come today. Ra Vatu is pleased + to desire his boots. He wishes to present them to his good friend, + Mongondro, and it is in his mind to send them with the feet along in them, + for Mongondro is an old man and his teeth are not good. Be sure, O Buli, + that the feet go along in the boots. As for the rest of him, it may stop + here.” + </p> + <p> + The delight in the whale tooth faded out of the Buli's eyes, and he + glanced about him dubiously. Yet had he already accepted the tooth. + </p> + <p> + “A little thing like a missionary does not matter,” Erirola prompted. + </p> + <p> + “No, a little thing like a missionary does not matter,” the Buli answered, + himself again. “Mongondro shall have the boots. Go, you young men, some + three or four of you, and meet the missionary on the trail. Be sure you + bring back the boots as well.” + </p> + <p> + “It is too late,” said Erirola. “Listen! He comes now.” + </p> + <p> + Breaking through the thicket of brush, John Starhurst, with Narau close on + his heels, strode upon the scene. The famous boots, having filled in + wading the stream, squirted fine jets of water at every step. Starhurst + looked about him with flashing eyes. Upborne by an unwavering trust, + untouched by doubt or fear, he exulted in all he saw. He knew that since + the beginning of time he was the first white man ever to tread the + mountain stronghold of Gatoka. + </p> + <p> + The grass houses clung to the steep mountain side or overhung the rushing + Rewa. On either side towered a mighty precipice. At the best, three hours + of sunlight penetrated that narrow gorge. No cocoanuts nor bananas were to + be seen, though dense, tropic vegetation overran everything, dripping in + airy festoons from the sheer lips of the precipices and running riot in + all the crannied ledges. At the far end of the gorge the Rewa leaped eight + hundred feet in a single span, while the atmosphere of the rock fortress + pulsed to the rhythmic thunder of the fall. + </p> + <p> + From the Buli's house, John Starhurst saw emerging the Buli and his + followers. + </p> + <p> + “I bring you good tidings,” was the missionary's greeting. + </p> + <p> + “Who has sent you?” the Buli rejoined quietly. + </p> + <p> + “God.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a new name in Viti Levu,” the Buli grinned. “Of what islands, + villages, or passes may he be chief?” + </p> + <p> + “He is the chief over all islands, all villages, all passes,” John + Starhurst answered solemnly. “He is the Lord over heaven and earth, and I + am come to bring His word to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Has he sent whale teeth?” was the insolent query. + </p> + <p> + “No, but more precious than whale teeth is the—” + </p> + <p> + “It is the custom, between chiefs, to send whale teeth,” the Buli + interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “Your chief is either a niggard, or you are a fool, to come empty-handed + into the mountains. Behold, a more generous than you is before you.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, he showed the whale tooth he had received from Erirola. + </p> + <p> + Narau groaned. + </p> + <p> + “It is the whale tooth of Ra Vatu,” he whispered to Starhurst. “I know it + well. Now are we undone.” + </p> + <p> + “A gracious thing,” the missionary answered, passing his hand through his + long beard and adjusting his glasses. “Ra Vatu has arranged that we should + be well received.” + </p> + <p> + But Narau groaned again, and backed away from the heels he had dogged so + faithfully. + </p> + <p> + “Ra Vatu is soon to become Lotu,” Starhurst explained, “and I have come + bringing the Lotu to you.” + </p> + <p> + “I want none of your Lotu,” said the Buli, proudly. “And it is in my mind + that you will be clubbed this day.” + </p> + <p> + The Buli nodded to one of his big mountaineers, who stepped forward, + swinging a club. Narau bolted into the nearest house, seeking to hide + among the woman and mats; but John Starhurst sprang in under the club and + threw his arms around his executioner's neck. From this point of vantage + he proceeded to argue. He was arguing for his life, and he knew it; but he + was neither excited nor afraid. + </p> + <p> + “It would be an evil thing for you to kill me,” he told the man. “I have + done you no wrong, nor have I done the Buli wrong.” + </p> + <p> + So well did he cling to the neck of the one man that they dared not strike + with their clubs. And he continued to cling and to dispute for his life + with those who clamored for his death. + </p> + <p> + “I am John Starhurst,” he went on calmly. “I have labored in Fiji for + three years, and I have done it for no profit. I am here among you for + good. Why should any man kill me? To kill me will not profit any man.” + </p> + <p> + The Buli stole a look at the whale tooth. He was well paid for the deed. + </p> + <p> + The missionary was surrounded by a mass of naked savages, all struggling + to get at him. The death song, which is the song of the oven, was raised, + and his expostulations could no longer be heard. But so cunningly did he + twine and wreathe his body about his captor's that the death blow could + not be struck. Erirola smiled, and the Buli grew angry. + </p> + <p> + “Away with you!” he cried. “A nice story to go back to the coast—a + dozen of you and one missionary, without weapons, weak as a woman, + overcoming all of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait, O Buli,” John Starhurst called out from the thick of the scuffle, + “and I will overcome even you. For my weapons are Truth and Right, and no + man can withstand them.” + </p> + <p> + “Come to me, then,” the Buli answered, “for my weapon is only a poor + miserable club, and, as you say, it cannot withstand you.” + </p> + <p> + The group separated from him, and John Starhurst stood alone, facing the + Buli, who was leaning on an enormous, knotted warclub. + </p> + <p> + “Come to me, missionary man, and overcome me,” the Buli challenged. + </p> + <p> + “Even so will I come to you and overcome you,” John Starhurst made answer, + first wiping his spectacles and settling them properly, then beginning his + advance. + </p> + <p> + The Buli raised the club and waited. + </p> + <p> + “In the first place, my death will profit you nothing,” began the + argument. + </p> + <p> + “I leave the answer to my club,” was the Buli's reply. + </p> + <p> + And to every point he made the same reply, at the same time watching the + missionary closely in order to forestall that cunning run-in under the + lifted club. Then, and for the first time, John Starhurst knew that his + death was at hand. He made no attempt to run in. Bareheaded, he stood in + the sun and prayed aloud—the mysterious figure of the inevitable + white man, who, with Bible, bullet, or rum bottle, has confronted the + amazed savage in his every stronghold. Even so stood John Starhurst in the + rock fortress of the Buli of Gatoka. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive them, for they know not what they do,” he prayed. “O Lord! Have + mercy upon Fiji. Have compassion for Fiji. O Jehovah, hear us for His + sake, Thy Son, whom Thou didst give that through Him all men might also + become Thy children. From Thee we came, and our mind is that to Thee we + may return. The land is dark, O Lord, the land is dark. But Thou art + mighty to save. Reach out Thy hand, O Lord, and save Fiji, poor cannibal + Fiji.” + </p> + <p> + The Buli grew impatient. + </p> + <p> + “Now will I answer thee,” he muttered, at the same time swinging his club + with both hands. + </p> + <p> + Narau, hiding among the women and the mats, heard the impact of the blow + and shuddered. Then the death song arose, and he knew his beloved + missionary's body was being dragged to the oven as he heard the words: + </p> + <p> + “Drag me gently. Drag me gently.” + </p> + <p> + “For I am the champion of my land.” + </p> + <p> + “Give thanks! Give thanks! Give thanks!” + </p> + <p> + Next, a single voice arose out of the din, asking: + </p> + <p> + “Where is the brave man?” + </p> + <p> + A hundred voices bellowed the answer: + </p> + <p> + “Gone to be dragged into the oven and cooked.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is the coward?” the single voice demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Gone to report!” the hundred voices bellowed back. “Gone to report! Gone + to report!” + </p> + <p> + Narau groaned in anguish of spirit. The words of the old song were true. + He was the coward, and nothing remained to him but to go and report. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MAUKI + </h2> + <p> + He weighed one hundred and ten pounds. His hair was kinky and negroid, and + he was black. He was peculiarly black. He was neither blue-black nor + purple-black, but plum-black. His name was Mauki, and he was the son of a + chief. He had three tambos. Tambo is Melanesian for taboo, and is first + cousin to that Polynesian word. Mauki's three tambos were as follows: + First, he must never shake hands with a woman, nor have a woman's hand + touch him or any of his personal belongings; secondly, he must never eat + clams nor any food from a fire in which clams had been cooked; thirdly, he + must never touch a crocodile, nor travel in a canoe that carried any part + of a crocodile even if as large as a tooth. + </p> + <p> + Of a different black were his teeth, which were deep black, or, perhaps + better, LAMP-black. They had been made so in a single night, by his + mother, who had compressed about them a powdered mineral which was dug + from the landslide back of Port Adams. Port Adams is a salt-water village + on Malaita, and Malaita is the most savage island in the Solomons—so + savage that no traders or planters have yet gained a foothold on it; + while, from the time of the earliest bêche-de-mer fishers and sandalwood + traders down to the latest labor recruiters equipped with automatic rifles + and gasolene engines, scores of white adventurers have been passed out by + tomahawks and soft-nosed Snider bullets. So Malaita remains today, in the + twentieth century, the stamping ground of the labor recruiters, who farm + its coasts for laborers who engage and contract themselves to toil on the + plantations of the neighboring and more civilized islands for a wage of + thirty dollars a year. The natives of those neighboring and more civilized + islands have themselves become too civilized to work on plantations. + </p> + <p> + Mauki's ears were pierced, not in one place, nor two places, but in a + couple of dozen places. In one of the smaller holes he carried a clay + pipe. The larger holes were too large for such use. The bowl of the pipe + would have fallen through. In fact, in the largest hole in each ear he + habitually wore round wooden plugs that were an even four inches in + diameter. Roughly speaking, the circumference of said holes was twelve and + one-half inches. Mauki was catholic in his tastes. In the various smaller + holes he carried such things as empty rifle cartridges, horseshoe nails, + copper screws, pieces of string, braids of sennit, strips of green leaf, + and, in the cool of the day, scarlet hibiscus flowers. From which it will + be seen that pockets were not necessary to his well-being. Besides, + pockets were impossible, for his only wearing apparel consisted of a piece + of calico several inches wide. A pocket knife he wore in his hair, the + blade snapped down on a kinky lock. His most prized possession was the + handle of a china cup, which he suspended from a ring of turtle-shell, + which, in turn, was passed through the partition-cartilage of his nose. + </p> + <p> + But in spite of embellishments, Mauki had a nice face. It was really a + pretty face, viewed by any standard, and for a Melanesian it was a + remarkably good-looking face. Its one fault was its lack of strength. It + was softly effeminate, almost girlish. The features were small, regular, + and delicate. The chin was weak, and the mouth was weak. There was no + strength nor character in the jaws, forehead, and nose. In the eyes only + could be caught any hint of the unknown quantities that were so large a + part of his make-up and that other persons could not understand. These + unknown quantities were pluck, pertinacity, fearlessness, imagination, and + cunning; and when they found expression in some consistent and striking + action, those about him were astounded. + </p> + <p> + Mauki's father was chief over the village at Port Adams, and thus, by + birth a salt-water man, Mauki was half amphibian. He knew the way of the + fishes and oysters, and the reef was an open book to him. Canoes, also, he + knew. He learned to swim when he was a year old. At seven years he could + hold his breath a full minute and swim straight down to bottom through + thirty feet of water. And at seven years he was stolen by the bushmen, who + cannot even swim and who are afraid of salt water. Thereafter Mauki saw + the sea only from a distance, through rifts in the jungle and from open + spaces on the high mountain sides. He became the slave of old Fanfoa, head + chief over a score of scattered bush-villages on the range-lips of + Malaita, the smoke of which, on calm mornings, is about the only evidence + the seafaring white men have of the teeming interior population. For the + whites do not penetrate Malaita. They tried it once, in the days when the + search was on for gold, but they always left their heads behind to grin + from the smoky rafters of the bushmen's huts. + </p> + <p> + When Mauki was a young man of seventeen, Fanfoa got out of tobacco. He got + dreadfully out of tobacco. It was hard times in all his villages. He had + been guilty of a mistake. Suo was a harbor so small that a large schooner + could not swing at anchor in it. It was surrounded by mangroves that + overhung the deep water. It was a trap, and into the trap sailed two white + men in a small ketch. They were after recruits, and they possessed much + tobacco and trade goods, to say nothing of three rifles and plenty of + ammunition. Now there were no salt-water men living at Suo, and it was + there that the bushmen could come down to the sea. The ketch did a + splendid traffic. It signed on twenty recruits the first day. Even old + Fanfoa signed on. And that same day the score of new recruits chopped off + the two white men's head, killed the boat's crew, and burned the ketch. + Thereafter, and for three months, there was tobacco and trade goods in + plenty and to spare in all the bush villages. Then came the man-of-war + that threw shells for miles into the hills, frightening the people out of + their villages and into the deeper bush. Next the man-of-war sent landing + parties ashore. The villages were all burned, along with the tobacco and + trade stuff. + </p> + <p> + The cocoanuts and bananas were chopped down, the taro gardens uprooted, + and the pigs and chickens killed. + </p> + <p> + It taught Fanfoa a lesson, but in the meantime he was out of tobacco. + Also, his young men were too frightened to sign on with the recruiting + vessels. That was why Fanfoa ordered his slave, Mauki, to be carried down + and signed on for half a case of tobacco advance, along with knives, axes, + calico, and beads, which he would pay for with his toil on the + plantations. Mauki was sorely frightened when they brought him on board + the schooner. He was a lamb led to the slaughter. White men were ferocious + creatures. They had to be, or else they would not make a practice of + venturing along the Malaita coast and into all harbors, two on a schooner, + when each schooner carried from fifteen to twenty blacks as boat's crew, + and often as high as sixty or seventy black recruits. In addition to this, + there was always the danger of the shore population, the sudden attack and + the cutting off of the schooner and all hands. Truly, white men must be + terrible. Besides, they were possessed of such devil-devils—rifles + that shot very rapidly many times, things of iron and brass that made the + schooners go when there was no wind, and boxes that talked and laughed + just as men talked and laughed. + </p> + <p> + Ay, and he had heard of one white man whose particular devil-devil was so + powerful that he could take out all his teeth and put them back at will. + </p> + <p> + Down into the cabin they took Mauki. On deck, the one white man kept guard + with two revolvers in his belt. In the cabin the other white man sat with + a book before him, in which he inscribed strange marks and lines. He + looked at Mauki as though he had been a pig or a fowl, glanced under the + hollows of his arms, and wrote in the book. Then he held out the writing + stick and Mauki just barely touched it with his hand, in so doing pledging + himself to toil for three years on the plantations of the Moongleam Soap + Company. It was not explained to him that the will of the ferocious white + men would be used to enforce the pledge, and that, behind all, for the + same use, was all the power and all the warships of Great Britain. + </p> + <p> + Other blacks there were on board, from unheard-of far places, and when the + white man spoke to them, they tore the long feather from Mauki's hair, cut + that same hair short, and wrapped about his waist a lava-lava of bright + yellow calico. + </p> + <p> + After many days on the schooner, and after beholding more land and islands + than he had ever dreamed of, he was landed on New Georgia, and put to work + in the field clearing jungle and cutting cane grass. For the first time he + knew what work was. Even as a slave to Fanfoa he had not worked like this. + And he did not like work. It was up at dawn and in at dark, on two meals a + day. And the food was tiresome. For weeks at a time they were given + nothing but sweet potatoes to eat, and for weeks at a time it would be + nothing but rice. He cut out the cocoanut from the shells day after day; + and for long days and weeks he fed the fires that smoked the copra, till + his eyes got sore and he was set to felling trees. He was a good axe-man, + and later he was put in the bridge-building gang. Once, he was punished by + being put in the road-building gang. At times he served as boat's crew in + the whale boats, when they brought in copra from distant beaches or when + the white men went out to dynamite fish. + </p> + <p> + Among other things he learned beche-de-mer English, with which he could + talk with all white men, and with all recruits who otherwise would have + talked in a thousand different dialects. Also, he learned certain things + about the white men, principally that they kept their word. If they told a + boy he was going to receive a stick of tobacco, he got it. If they told a + boy they would knock seven bells out of him if he did a certain thing, + when he did that thing, seven bells invariably were knocked out of him. + Mauki did not know what seven bells were, but they occurred in + beche-de-mer, and he imagined them to be the blood and teeth that + sometimes accompanied the process of knocking out seven bells. One other + thing he learned: no boy was struck or punished unless he did wrong. Even + when the white men were drunk, as they were frequently, they never struck + unless a rule had been broken. + </p> + <p> + Mauki did not like the plantation. He hated work, and he was the son of a + chief. Furthermore, it was ten years since he had been stolen from Port + Adams by Fanfoa, and he was homesick. He was even homesick for the slavery + under Fanfoa. So he ran away. He struck back into the bush, with the idea + of working southward to the beach and stealing a canoe in which to go home + to Port Adams. + </p> + <p> + But the fever got him, and he was captured and brought back more dead than + alive. + </p> + <p> + A second time he ran away, in the company of two Malaita boys. They got + down the coast twenty miles, and were hidden in the hut of a Malaita + freeman, who dwelt in that village. But in the dead of night two white men + came, who were not afraid of all the village people and who knocked seven + bells out of the three runaways, tied them like pigs, and tossed them into + the whale boat. But the man in whose house they had hidden—seven + times seven bells must have been knocked out of him from the way the hair, + skin, and teeth flew, and he was discouraged for the rest of his natural + life from harboring runaway laborers. + </p> + <p> + For a year Mauki toiled on. Then he was made a house-boy, and had good + food and easy times, with light work in keeping the house clean and + serving the white men with whiskey and beer at all hours of the day and + most hours of the night. He liked it, but he liked Port Adams more. He had + two years longer to serve, but two years were too long for him in the + throes of homesickness. He had grown wiser with his year of service, and, + being now a house-boy, he had opportunity. He had the cleaning of the + rifles, and he knew where the key to the store room was hung. He planned + to escape, and one night ten Malaita boys and one boy from San Cristoval + sneaked from the barracks and dragged one of the whale boats down to the + beach. It was Mauki who supplied the key that opened the padlock on the + boat, and it was Mauki who equipped the boat with a dozen Winchesters, an + immense amount of ammunition, a case of dynamite with detonators and fuse, + and ten cases of tobacco. + </p> + <p> + The northwest monsoon was blowing, and they fled south in the night time, + hiding by day on detached and uninhabited islets, or dragging their whale + boat into the bush on the large islands. Thus they gained Guadalcanar, + skirted halfway along it, and crossed the Indispensable Straits to Florida + Island. It was here that they killed the San Cristoval boy, saving his + head and cooking and eating the rest of him. The Malaita coast was only + twenty miles away, but the last night a strong current and baffling winds + prevented them from gaining across. Daylight found them still several + miles from their goal. But daylight brought a cutter, in which were two + white men, who were not afraid of eleven Malaita men armed with twelve + rifles. Mauki and his companions were carried back to Tulagi, where lived + the great white master of all the white men. And the great white master + held a court, after which, one by one, the runaways were tied up and given + twenty lashes each, and sentenced to a fine of fifteen dollars. They were + sent back to New Georgia, where the white men knocked seven bells out of + them all around and put them to work. But Mauki was no longer house-boy. + He was put in the road-making gang. The fine of fifteen dollars had been + paid by the white men from whom he had run away, and he was told that he + would have to work it out, which meant six months' additional toil. + Further, his share of the stolen tobacco earned him another year of toil. + </p> + <p> + Port Adams was now three years and a half away, so he stole a canoe one + night, hid on the islets in Manning Straits, passed through the Straits, + and began working along the eastern coast of Ysabel, only to be captured, + two-thirds of the way along, by the white men on Meringe Lagoon. After a + week, he escaped from them and took to the bush. There were no bush + natives on Ysabel, only salt-water men, who were all Christians. The white + men put up a reward of five-hundred sticks of tobacco, and every time + Mauki ventured down to the sea to steal a canoe he was chased by the + salt-water men. Four months of this passed, when, the reward having been + raised to a thousand sticks, he was caught and sent back to New Georgia + and the road-building gang. Now a thousand sticks are worth fifty dollars, + and Mauki had to pay the reward himself, which required a year and eight + months' labor. So Port Adams was now five years away. + </p> + <p> + His homesickness was greater than ever, and it did not appeal to him to + settle down and be good, work out his four years, and go home. The next + time, he was caught in the very act of running away. His case was brought + before Mr. Haveby, the island manager of the Moongleam Soap Company, who + adjudged him an incorrigible. The Company had plantations on the Santa + Cruz Islands, hundreds of miles across the sea, and there it sent its + Solomon Islands' incorrigibles. And there Mauki was sent, though he never + arrived. The schooner stopped at Santa Anna, and in the night Mauki swam + ashore, where he stole two rifles and a case of tobacco from the trader + and got away in a canoe to Cristoval. Malaita was now to the north, fifty + or sixty miles away. But when he attempted the passage, he was caught by a + light gale and driven back to Santa Anna, where the trader clapped him in + irons and held him against the return of the schooner from Santa Cruz. The + two rifles the trader recovered, but the case of tobacco was charged up to + Mauki at the rate of another year. The sum of years he now owed the + Company was six. + </p> + <p> + On the way back to New Georgia, the schooner dropped anchor in Marau + Sound, which lies at the southeastern extremity of Guadalcanar. Mauki swam + ashore with handcuffs on his wrists and got away to the bush. The schooner + went on, but the Moongleam trader ashore offered a thousand sticks, and to + him Mauki was brought by the bushmen with a year and eight months tacked + on to his account. Again, and before the schooner called in, he got away, + this time in a whale boat accompanied by a case of the trader's tobacco. + But a northwest gale wrecked him upon Ugi, where the Christian natives + stole his tobacco and turned him over to the Moongleam trader who resided + there. The tobacco the natives stole meant another year for him, and the + tale was now eight years and a half. + </p> + <p> + “We'll send him to Lord Howe,” said Mr. Haveby. “Bunster is there, and + we'll let them settle it between them. It will be a case, I imagine, of + Mauki getting Bunster, or Bunster getting Mauki, and good riddance in + either event.” + </p> + <p> + If one leaves Meringe Lagoon, on Ysabel, and steers a course due north, + magnetic, at the end of one hundred and fifty miles he will lift the + pounded coral beaches of Lord Howe above the sea. Lord Howe is a ring of + land some one hundred and fifty miles in circumference, several hundred + yards wide at its widest, and towering in places to a height of ten feet + above sea level. Inside this ring of sand is a mighty lagoon studded with + coral patches. Lord Howe belongs to the Solomons neither geographically + nor ethnologically. It is an atoll, while the Solomons are high islands; + and its people and language are Polynesian, while the inhabitants of the + Solomons are Melanesian. + </p> + <p> + Lord Howe has been populated by the westward Polynesian drift which + continues to this day, big outrigger canoes being washed upon its beaches + by the southeast trade. That there has been a slight Melanesian drift in + the period of the northwest monsoon, is also evident. + </p> + <p> + Nobody ever comes to Lord Howe, or Ontong-Java as it is sometimes called. + Thomas Cook & Son do not sell tickets to it, and tourists do not dream + of its existence. Not even a white missionary has landed on its shore. Its + five thousand natives are as peaceable as they are primitive. Yet they + were not always peaceable. The Sailing Directions speak of them as hostile + and treacherous. But the men who compile the Sailing Directions have never + heard of the change that was worked in the hearts of the inhabitants, who, + not many years ago, cut off a big bark and killed all hands with the + exception of the second mate. The survivor carried the news to his + brothers. The captains of three trading schooners returned with him to + Lord Howe. They sailed their vessels right into the lagoon and proceeded + to preach the white man's gospel that only white men shall kill white men + and that the lesser breeds must keep hands off. The schooners sailed up + and down the lagoon, harrying and destroying. There was no escape from the + narrow sand-circle, no bush to which to flee. The men were shot down at + sight, and there was no avoiding being sighted. The villages were burned, + the canoes smashed, the chickens and pigs killed, and the precious + cocoanut trees chopped down. For a month this continued, when the schooner + sailed away; but the fear of the white man had been seared into the souls + of the islanders and never again were they rash enough to harm one. + </p> + <p> + Max Bunster was the one white man on Lord Howe, trading in the pay of the + ubiquitous Moongleam Soap Company. And the Company billeted him on Lord + Howe, because, next to getting rid of him, it was the most out-of-the-way + place to be found. That the Company did not get rid of him was due to the + difficulty of finding another man to take his place. He was a strapping + big German, with something wrong in his brain. Semi-madness would be a + charitable statement of his condition. He was a bully and a coward, and a + thrice-bigger savage than any savage on the island. + </p> + <p> + Being a coward, his brutality was of the cowardly order. When he first + went into the Company's employ, he was stationed on Savo. When a + consumptive colonial was sent to take his place, he beat him up with his + fists and sent him off a wreck in the schooner that brought him. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Haveby next selected a young Yorkshire giant to relieve Bunster. The + Yorkshire man had a reputation as a bruiser and preferred fighting to + eating. But Bunster wouldn't fight. He was a regular little lamb—for + ten days, at the end of which time the Yorkshire man was prostrated by a + combined attack of dysentery and fever. Then Bunster went for him, among + other things getting him down and jumping on him a score or so of times. + Afraid of what would happen when his victim recovered. Bunster fled away + in a cutter to Guvutu, where he signalized himself by beating up a young + Englishman already crippled by a Boer bullet through both hips. + </p> + <p> + Then it was that Mr. Haveby sent Bunster to Lord Howe, the falling-off + place. He celebrated his landing by mopping up half a case of gin and by + thrashing the elderly and wheezy mate of the schooner which had brought + him. When the schooner departed, he called the kanakas down to the beach + and challenged them to throw him in a wrestling bout, promising a case of + tobacco to the one who succeeded. Three kanakas he threw, but was promptly + thrown by a fourth, who, instead of receiving the tobacco, got a bullet + through his lungs. + </p> + <p> + And so began Bunster's reign on Lord Howe. Three thousand people lived in + the principal village; but it was deserted, even in broad day, when he + passed through. Men, women, and children fled before him. Even the dogs + and pigs got out of the way, while the king was not above hiding under a + mat. The two prime ministers lived in terror of Bunster, who never + discussed any moot subject, but struck out with his fists instead. + </p> + <p> + And to Lord Howe came Mauki, to toil for Bunster for eight long years and + a half. There was no escaping from Lord Howe. For better or worse, Bunster + and he were tied together. Bunster weighed two hundred pounds. Mauki + weighed one hundred and ten. Bunster was a degenerate brute. But Mauki was + a primitive savage. While both had wills and ways of their own. + </p> + <p> + Mauki had no idea of the sort of master he was to work for. He had had no + warnings, and he had concluded as a matter of course that Bunster would be + like other white men, a drinker of much whiskey, a ruler and a lawgiver + who always kept his word and who never struck a boy undeserved. Bunster + had the advantage. He knew all about Mauki, and gloated over the coming + into possession of him. The last cook was suffering from a broken arm and + a dislocated shoulder, so Bunster made Mauki cook and general house-boy. + </p> + <p> + And Mauki soon learned that there were white men and white men. On the + very day the schooner departed he was ordered to buy a chicken from + Samisee, the native Tongan missionary. But Samisee had sailed across the + lagoon and would not be back for three days. Mauki returned with the + information. He climbed the steep stairway (the house stood on piles + twelve feet above the sand), and entered the living room to report. The + trader demanded the chicken. Mauki opened his mouth to explain the + missionary's absence. But Bunster did not care for explanations. He struck + out with his fist. The blow caught Mauki on the mouth and lifted him into + the air. Clear through the doorway he flew, across the narrow veranda, + breaking the top railing, and down to the ground. + </p> + <p> + His lips were a contused, shapeless mass, and his mouth was full of blood + and broken teeth. + </p> + <p> + “That'll teach you that back talk don't go with me,” the trader shouted, + purple with rage, peering down at him over the broken railing. + </p> + <p> + Mauki had never met a white man like this, and he resolved to walk small + and never offend. He saw the boat boys knocked about, and one of them put + in irons for three days with nothing to eat for the crime of breaking a + rowlock while pulling. Then, too, he heard the gossip of the village and + learned why Bunster had taken a third wife—by force, as was well + known. The first and second wives lay in the graveyard, under the white + coral sand, with slabs of coral rock at head and feet. They had died, it + was said, from beatings he had given them. The third wife was certainly + ill-used, as Mauki could see for himself. + </p> + <p> + But there was no way by which to avoid offending the white man who seemed + offended with life. When Mauki kept silent, he was struck and called a + sullen brute. When he spoke, he was struck for giving back talk. When he + was grave, Bunster accused him of plotting and gave him a thrashing in + advance; and when he strove to be cheerful and to smile, he was charged + with sneering at his lord and master and given a taste of stick. Bunster + was a devil. + </p> + <p> + The village would have done for him, had it not remembered the lesson of + the three schooners. It might have done for him anyway, if there had been + a bush to which to flee. As it was, the murder of the white men, of any + white man, would bring a man-of-war that would kill the offenders and chop + down the precious cocoanut trees. Then there were the boat boys, with + minds fully made up to drown him by accident at the first opportunity to + capsize the cutter. Only Bunster saw to it that the boat did not capsize. + </p> + <p> + Mauki was of a different breed, and escape being impossible while Bunster + lived, he was resolved to get the white man. The trouble was that he could + never find a chance. Bunster was always on guard. Day and night his + revolvers were ready to hand. He permitted nobody to pass behind his back, + as Mauki learned after having been knocked down several times. Bunster + knew that he had more to fear from the good-natured, even sweet-faced, + Malaita boy than from the entire population of Lord Howe; and it gave + added zest to the programme of torment he was carrying out. And Mauki + walked small, accepted his punishments, and waited. + </p> + <p> + All other white men had respected his tambos, but not so Bunster. + </p> + <p> + Mauki's weekly allowance of tobacco was two sticks. Bunster passed them to + his woman and ordered Mauki to receive them from her hand. But this could + not be, and Mauki went without his tobacco. In the same way he was made to + miss many a meal, and to go hungry many a day. He was ordered to make + chowder out of the big clams that grew in the lagoon. This he could not + do, for clams were tambo. Six times in succession he refused to touch the + clams, and six times he was knocked senseless. Bunster knew that the boy + would die first, but called his refusal mutiny, and would have killed him + had there been another cook to take his place. + </p> + <p> + One of the trader's favorite tricks was to catch Mauki's kinky locks and + bat his head against the wall. Another trick was to catch Mauki unawares + and thrust the live end of a cigar against his flesh. This Bunster called + vaccination, and Mauki was vaccinated a number of times a week. Once, in a + rage, Bunster ripped the cup handle from Mauki's nose, tearing the hole + clear out of the cartilage. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what a mug!” was his comment, when he surveyed the damage he had + wrought. + </p> + <p> + The skin of a shark is like sandpaper, but the skin of a ray fish is like + a rasp. In the South Seas the natives use it as a wood file in smoothing + down canoes and paddles. Bunster had a mitten made of ray fish skin. The + first time he tried it on Mauki, with one sweep of the hand it fetched the + skin off his back from neck to armpit. Bunster was delighted. He gave his + wife a taste of the mitten, and tried it out thoroughly on the boat boys. + The prime ministers came in for a stroke each, and they had to grin and + take it for a joke. + </p> + <p> + “Laugh, damn you, laugh!” was the cue he gave. + </p> + <p> + Mauki came in for the largest share of the mitten. Never a day passed + without a caress from it. There were times when the loss of so much + cuticle kept him awake at night, and often the half-healed surface was + raked raw afresh by the facetious Mr. Bunster. Mauki continued his patient + wait, secure in the knowledge that sooner or later his time would come. + And he knew just what he was going to do, down to the smallest detail, + when the time did come. + </p> + <p> + One morning Bunster got up in a mood for knocking seven bells out of the + universe. He began on Mauki, and wound up on Mauki, in the interval + knocking down his wife and hammering all the boat boys. At breakfast he + called the coffee slops and threw the scalding contents of the cup into + Mauki's face. By ten o'clock Bunster was shivering with ague, and half an + hour later he was burning with fever. It was no ordinary attack. It + quickly became pernicious, and developed into black-water fever. The days + passed, and he grew weaker and weaker, never leaving his bed. Mauki waited + and watched, the while his skin grew intact once more. He ordered the boys + to beach the cutter, scrub her bottom, and give her a general overhauling. + They thought the order emanated from Bunster, and they obeyed. But Bunster + at the time was lying unconscious and giving no orders. This was Mauki's + chance, but still he waited. + </p> + <p> + When the worst was past, and Bunster lay convalescent and conscious, but + weak as a baby, Mauki packed his few trinkets, including the china cup + handle, into his trade box. Then he went over to the village and + interviewed the king and his two prime ministers. + </p> + <p> + “This fella Bunster, him good fella you like too much?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + They explained in one voice that they liked the trader not at all. The + ministers poured forth a recital of all the indignities and wrongs that + had been heaped upon them. The king broke down and wept. Mauki interrupted + rudely. + </p> + <p> + “You savve me—me big fella marster my country. You no like 'm this + fella white marster. Me no like 'm. Plenty good you put hundred cocoanut, + two hundred cocoanut, three hundred cocoanut along cutter. Him finish, you + go sleep 'm good fella. Altogether kanaka sleep m good fella. Bime by big + fella noise along house, you no savve hear 'm that fella noise. You + altogether sleep strong fella too much.” + </p> + <p> + In like manner Mauki interviewed the boat boys. Then he ordered Bunster's + wife to return to her family house. Had she refused, he would have been in + a quandary, for his tambo would not have permitted him to lay hands on + her. + </p> + <p> + The house deserted, he entered the sleeping room, where the trader lay in + a doze. Mauki first removed the revolvers, then placed the ray fish mitten + on his hand. Bunster's first warning was a stroke of the mitten that + removed the skin the full length of his nose. + </p> + <p> + “Good fella, eh?” Mauki grinned, between two strokes, one of which swept + the forehead bare and the other of which cleaned off one side of his face. + “Laugh, damn you, laugh.” + </p> + <p> + Mauki did his work throughly, and the kanakas, hiding in their houses, + heard the “big fella noise” that Bunster made and continued to make for an + hour or more. + </p> + <p> + When Mauki was done, he carried the boat compass and all the rifles and + ammunition down to the cutter, which he proceeded to ballast with cases of + tobacco. It was while engaged in this that a hideous, skinless thing came + out of the house and ran screaming down the beach till it fell in the sand + and mowed and gibbered under the scorching sun. Mauki looked toward it and + hesitated. Then he went over and removed the head, which he wrapped in a + mat and stowed in the stern locker of the cutter. + </p> + <p> + So soundly did the kanakas sleep through that long hot day that they did + not see the cutter run out through the passage and head south, + close-hauled on the southeast trade. Nor was the cutter ever sighted on + that long tack to the shores of Ysabel, and during the tedious head-beat + from there to Malaita. He landed at Port Adams with a wealth of rifles and + tobacco such as no one man had ever possessed before. But he did not stop + there. He had taken a white man's head, and only the bush could shelter + him. So back he went to the bush villages, where he shot old Fanfoa and + half a dozen of the chief men, and made himself the chief over all the + villages. When his father died, Mauki's brother ruled in Port Adams, and + joined together, salt-water men and bushmen, the resulting combination was + the strongest of the ten score fighting tribes of Malaita. + </p> + <p> + More than his fear of the British government was Mauki's fear of the + all-powerful Moongleam Soap Company; and one day a message came up to him + in the bush, reminding him that he owed the Company eight and one-half + years of labor. He sent back a favorable answer, and then appeared the + inevitable white man, the captain of the schooner, the only white man + during Mauki's reign, who ventured the bush and came out alive. This man + not only came out, but he brought with him seven hundred and fifty dollars + in gold sovereigns—the money price of eight years and a half of + labor plus the cost price of certain rifles and cases of tobacco. + </p> + <p> + Mauki no longer weighs one hundred and ten pounds. His stomach is three + times its former girth, and he has four wives. He has many other things—rifles + and revolvers, the handle of a china cup, and an excellent collection of + bushmen's heads. But more precious than the entire collection is another + head, perfectly dried and cured, with sandy hair and a yellowish beard, + which is kept wrapped in the finest of fibre lava-lavas. When Mauki goes + to war with villages beyond his realm, he invariably gets out this head, + and alone in his grass palace, contemplates it long and solemnly. At such + times the hush of death falls on the village, and not even a pickaninny + dares make a noise. The head is esteemed the most powerful devil-devil on + Malaita, and to the possession of it is ascribed all of Mauki's greatness. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + “YAH! YAH! YAH!” + </h2> + <p> + He was a whiskey-guzzling Scotchman, and he downed his whiskey neat, + beginning with his first tot punctually at six in the morning, and + thereafter repeating it at regular intervals throughout the day till + bedtime, which was usually midnight. He slept but five hours out of the + twenty-four, and for the remaining nineteen hours he was quietly and + decently drunk. During the eight weeks I spent with him on Oolong Atoll, I + never saw him draw a sober breath. In fact, his sleep was so short that he + never had time to sober up. It was the most beautiful and orderly + perennial drunk I have ever observed. + </p> + <p> + McAllister was his name. He was an old man, and very shaky on his pins. + His hand trembled as with a palsy, especially noticeable when he poured + his whiskey, though I never knew him to spill a drop. He had been + twenty-eight years in Melanesia, ranging from German New Guinea to the + German Solomons, and so thoroughly had he become identified with that + portion of the world, that he habitually spoke in that bastard lingo + called “bech-de-mer.” Thus, in conversation with me, SUN HE COME UP meant + sunrise; KAI-KAI HE STOP meant that dinner was served; and BELLY BELONG ME + WALK ABOUT meant that he was sick at his stomach. He was a small man, and + a withered one, burned inside and outside by ardent spirits and ardent + sun. He was a cinder, a bit of a clinker of a man, a little animated + clinker, not yet quite cold, that moved stiffly and by starts and jerks + like an automaton. A gust of wind would have blown him away. He weighed + ninety pounds. + </p> + <p> + But the immense thing about him was the power with which he ruled. Oolong + Atoll was one hundred and forty miles in circumference. One steered by + compass course in its lagoon. It was populated by five thousand + Polynesians, all strapping men and women, many of them standing six feet + in height and weighing a couple of hundred pounds. Oolong was two hundred + and fifty miles from the nearest land. Twice a year a little schooner + called to collect copra. The one white man on Oolong was McAllister, petty + trader and unintermittent guzzler; and he ruled Oolong and its six + thousand savages with an iron hand. He said come, and they came, go, and + they went. They never questioned his will nor judgment. He was + cantankerous as only an aged Scotchman can be, and interfered continually + in their personal affairs. When Nugu, the king's daughter, wanted to marry + Haunau from the other end of the atoll, her father said yes; but + McAllister said no, and the marriage never came off. When the king wanted + to buy a certain islet in the lagoon from the chief priest, McAllister + said no. The king was in debt to the Company to the tune of 180,000 + cocoanuts, and until that was paid he was not to spend a single cocoanut + on anything else. + </p> + <p> + And yet the king and his people did not love McAllister. In truth, they + hated him horribly, and, to my knowledge, the whole population, with the + priests at the head, tried vainly for three months to pray him to death. + The devil-devils they sent after him were awe-inspiring, but since + McAllister did not believe in devil-devils, they were without power over + him. With drunken Scotchmen all signs fail. They gathered up scraps of + food which had touched his lips, an empty whiskey bottle, a cocoanut from + which he had drunk, and even his spittle, and performed all kinds of + deviltries over them. But McAllister lived on. His health was superb. He + never caught fever; nor coughs nor colds; dysentery passed him by; and the + malignant ulcers and vile skin diseases that attack blacks and whites + alike in that climate never fastened upon him. He must have been so + saturated with alcohol as to defy the lodgment of germs. I used to imagine + them falling to the ground in showers of microscopic cinders as fast as + they entered his whiskey-sodden aura. No one loved him, not even germs, + while he loved only whiskey, and still he lived. + </p> + <p> + I was puzzled. I could not understand six thousand natives putting up with + that withered shrimp of a tyrant. It was a miracle that he had not died + suddenly long since. Unlike the cowardly Melanesians, the people were + high-stomached and warlike. In the big graveyard, at head and feet of the + graves, were relics of past sanguinary history—blubber-spades, rusty + old bayonets and cutlasses, copper bolts, rudder-irons, harpoons, bomb + guns, bricks that could have come from nowhere but a whaler's trying-out + furnace, and old brass pieces of the sixteenth century that verified the + traditions of the early Spanish navigators. Ship after ship had come to + grief on Oolong. Not thirty years before, the whaler BLENNERDALE, running + into the lagoon for repair, had been cut off with all hands. In similar + fashion had the crew of the GASKET, a sandalwood trader, perished. There + was a big French bark, the TOULON, becalmed off the atoll, which the + islanders boarded after a sharp tussle and wrecked in the Lipau Passage, + the captain and a handful of sailors escaping in the longboat. Then there + were the Spanish pieces, which told of the loss of one of the early + explorers. All this, of the vessels named, is a matter of history, and is + to be found in the SOUTH PACIFIC SAILING DIRECTORY. But that there was + other history, unwritten, I was yet to learn. In the meantime I puzzled + why six thousand primitive savages let one degenerate Scotch despot live. + </p> + <p> + One hot afternoon McAllister and I sat on the veranda looking out over the + lagoon, with all its wonder of jeweled colors. At our backs, across the + hundred yards of palm-studded sand, the outer surf roared on the reef. It + was dreadfully warm. We were in four degree south latitude and the sun was + directly overhead, having crossed the Line a few days before on its + journey south. There was no wind—not even a catspaw. The season of + the southeast trade was drawing to an early close, and the northwest + monsoon had not yet begun to blow. + </p> + <p> + “They can't dance worth a damn,” said McAllister. + </p> + <p> + I had happened to mention that the Polynesian dances were superior to the + Papuan, and this McAllister had denied, for no other reason than his + cantankerousness. But it was too hot to argue, and I said nothing. + Besides, I had never seen the Oolong people dance. + </p> + <p> + “I'll prove it to you,” he announced, beckoning to the black New Hanover + boy, a labor recruit, who served as cook and general house servant. “Hey, + you, boy, you tell 'm one fella king come along me.” + </p> + <p> + The boy departed, and back came the prime minister, perturbed, ill at + ease, and garrulous with apologetic explanation. In short, the king slept, + and was not to be disturbed. + </p> + <p> + “King he plenty strong fella sleep,” was his final sentence. + </p> + <p> + McAllister was in such a rage that the prime minister incontinently fled, + to return with the king himself. They were a magnificent pair, the king + especially, who must have been all of six feet three inches in height. His + features had the eagle-like quality that is so frequently found in those + of the North American Indian. He had been molded and born to rule. His + eyes flashed as he listened, but right meekly he obeyed McAllister's + command to fetch a couple of hundred of the best dancers, male and female, + in the village. And dance they did, for two mortal hours, under that + broiling sun. They did not love him for it, and little he cared, in the + end dismissing them with abuse and sneers. + </p> + <p> + The abject servility of those magnificent savages was terrifying. How + could it be? What was the secret of his rule? More and more I puzzled as + the days went by, and though I observed perpetual examples of his + undisputed sovereignty, never a clew was there as to how it was. + </p> + <p> + One day I happened to speak of my disappointment in failing to trade for a + beautiful pair of orange cowries. The pair was worth five pounds in Sydney + if it was worth a cent. I had offered two hundred sticks of tobacco to the + owner, who had held out for three hundred. When I casually mentioned the + situation, McAllister immediately sent for the man, took the shells from + him, and turned them over to me. Fifty sticks were all he permitted me to + pay for them. The man accepted the tobacco and seemed overjoyed at getting + off so easily. As for me, I resolved to keep a bridle on my tongue in the + future. And still I mulled over the secret of McAllister's power. I even + went to the extent of asking him directly, but all he did was to cock one + eye, look wise, and take another drink. + </p> + <p> + One night I was out fishing in the lagoon with Oti, the man who had been + mulcted of the cowries. Privily, I had made up to him an additional + hundred and fifty sticks, and he had come to regard me with a respect that + was almost veneration, which was curious, seeing that he was an old man, + twice my age at least. + </p> + <p> + “What name you fella kanaka all the same pickaninny?” I began on him. + “This fella trader he one fella. You fella kanaka plenty fella too much. + You fella kanaka just like 'm dog—plenty fright along that fella + trader. He no eat you, fella. He no get 'm teeth along him. What name you + too much fright?” + </p> + <p> + “S'pose plenty fella kanaka kill 'm?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “He die,” I retorted. “You fella kanaka kill 'm plenty fella white man + long time before. What name you fright this fella white man?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, we kill 'm plenty,” was his answer. “My word! Any amount! Long time + before. One time, me young fella too much, one big fella ship he stop + outside. Wind he no blow. Plenty fella kanaka we get 'm canoe, plenty + fella canoe, we go catch 'm that fella ship. My word—we catch 'm big + fella fight. Two, three white men shoot like hell. We no fright. We come + alongside, we go up side, plenty fella, maybe I think fifty-ten (five + hundred). One fella white Mary (woman) belong that fella ship. Never + before I see 'm white Mary. Bime by plenty white man finish. One fella + skipper he no die. Five fella, six fella white man no die. Skipper he sing + out. Some fella white man he fight. Some fella white man he lower away + boat. After that, all together over the side they go. Skipper he sling + white Mary down. After that they washee (row) strong fella plenty too + much. Father belong me, that time he strong fella. He throw 'm one fella + spear. That fella spear he go in one side that white Mary. He no stop. My + word, he go out other side that fella Mary. She finish. Me no fright. + Plenty kanaka too much no fright.” + </p> + <p> + Old Oti's pride had been touched, for he suddenly stripped down his + lava-lava and showed me the unmistakable scar of a bullet. Before I could + speak, his line ran out suddenly. He checked it and attempted to haul in, + but found that the fish had run around a coral branch. Casting a look of + reproach at me for having beguiled him from his watchfulness, he went over + the side, feet first, turning over after he got under and following his + line down to bottom. The water was ten fathoms. I leaned over and watched + the play of his feet, growing dim and dimmer, as they stirred the wan + phosphorescence into ghostly fires. Ten fathoms—sixty feet—it + was nothing to him, an old man, compared with the value of a hook and + line. After what seemed five minutes, though it could not have been more + than a minute, I saw him flaming whitely upward. He broke surface and + dropped a ten pound rock cod into the canoe, the line and hook intact, the + latter still fast in the fish's mouth. + </p> + <p> + “It may be,” I said remorselessly. “You no fright long ago. You plenty + fright now along that fella trader.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, plenty fright,” he confessed, with an air of dismissing the subject. + For half an hour we pulled up our lines and flung them out in silence. + Then small fish-sharks began to bite, and after losing a hook apiece, we + hauled in and waited for the sharks to go their way. + </p> + <p> + “I speak you true,” Oti broke into speech, “then you savve we fright now.” + </p> + <p> + I lighted up my pipe and waited, and the story that Oti told me in + atrocious bech-de-mer I here turn into proper English. Otherwise, in + spirit and order of narrative, the tale is as it fell from Oti's lips. + </p> + <p> + “It was after that that we were very proud. We had fought many times with + the strange white men who live upon the sea, and always we had beaten + them. A few of us were killed, but what was that compared with the stores + of wealth of a thousand thousand kinds that we found on the ships? And + then one day, maybe twenty years ago, or twenty-five, there came a + schooner right through the passage and into the lagoon. It was a large + schooner with three masts. She had five white men and maybe forty boat's + crew, black fellows from New Guinea and New Britain; and she had come to + fish beche-de-mer. She lay at anchor across the lagoon from here, at + Pauloo, and her boats scattered out everywhere, making camps on the + beaches where they cured the beche-de-mer. This made them weak by dividing + them, for those who fished here and those on the schooner at Pauloo were + fifty miles apart, and there were others farther away still. + </p> + <p> + “Our king and headmen held council, and I was one in the canoe that + paddled all afternoon and all night across the lagoon, bringing word to + the people of Pauloo that in the morning we would attack the fishing camps + at the one time and that it was for them to take the schooner. We who + brought the word were tired with the paddling, but we took part in the + attack. On the schooner were two white men, the skipper and the second + mate, with half a dozen black boys. The skipper with three boys we caught + on shore and killed, but first eight of us the skipper killed with his two + revolvers. We fought close together, you see, at hand grapples. + </p> + <p> + “The noise of our fighting told the mate what was happening, and he put + food and water and a sail in the small dingy, which was so small that it + was no more than twelve feet long. We came down upon the schooner, a + thousand men, covering the lagoon with our canoes. Also, we were blowing + conch shells, singing war songs, and striking the sides of the canoes with + our paddles. What chance had one white man and three black boys against + us? No chance at all, and the mate knew it. + </p> + <p> + “White men are hell. I have watched them much, and I am an old man now, + and I understand at last why the white men have taken to themselves all + the islands in the sea. It is because they are hell. Here are you in the + canoe with me. You are hardly more than a boy. You are not wise, for each + day I tell you many things you do not know. When I was a little + pickaninny, I knew more about fish and the ways of fish than you know now. + I am an old man, but I swim down to the bottom of the lagoon, and you + cannot follow me. What are you good for, anyway? I do not know, except to + fight. I have never seen you fight, yet I know that you are like your + brothers and that you will fight like hell. Also, you are a fool, like + your brothers. You do not know when you are beaten. You will fight until + you die, and then it will be too late to know that you are beaten. + </p> + <p> + “Now behold what this mate did. As we came down upon him, covering the sea + and blowing our conches, he put off from the schooner in the small boat, + along with the three black boys, and rowed for the passage. There again he + was a fool, for no wise man would put out to sea in so small a boat. The + sides of it were not four inches above the water. Twenty canoes went after + him, filled with two hundred young men. We paddled five fathoms while his + black boys were rowing one fathom. He had no chance, but he was a fool. He + stood up in the boat with a rifle, and he shot many times. He was not a + good shot, but as we drew close many of us were wounded and killed. But + still he had no chance. + </p> + <p> + “I remember that all the time he was smoking a cigar. When we were forty + feet away and coming fast, he dropped the rifle, lighted a stick of + dynamite with the cigar, and threw it at us. He lighted another and + another, and threw them at us very rapidly, many of them. I know now that + he must have split the ends of the fuses and stuck in match heads, because + they lighted so quickly. Also, the fuses were very short. Sometimes the + dynamite sticks went off in the air, but most of them went off in the + canoes. And each time they went off in a canoe, that canoe was finished. + Of the twenty canoes, the half were smashed to pieces. The canoe I was in + was so smashed, and likewise the two men who sat next to me. The dynamite + fell between them. The other canoes turned and ran away. Then that mate + yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' at us. Also he went at us again with his rifle, so + that many were killed through the back as they fled away. And all the time + the black boys in the boat went on rowing. You see, I told you true, that + mate was hell. + </p> + <p> + “Nor was that all. Before he left the schooner, he set her on fire, and + fixed up all the powder and dynamite so that it would go off at one time. + There were hundreds of us on board, trying to put out the fire, heaving up + water from overside, when the schooner blew up. So that all we had fought + for was lost to us, besides many more of us being killed. Sometimes, even + now, in my old age, I have bad dreams in which I hear that mate yell, Yah! + Yah! Yah!' In a voice of thunder he yells, Yah! Yah! Yah!' But all those + in the fishing camps were killed. + </p> + <p> + “The mate went out of the passage in his little boat, and that was the end + of him we made sure, for how could so small a boat, with four men in it, + live on the ocean? A month went by, and then, one morning, between two + rain squalls, a schooner sailed in through our passage and dropped anchor + before the village. The king and the headmen made big talk, and it was + agreed that we would take the schooner in two or three days. In the + meantime, as it was our custom always to appear friendly, we went off to + her in canoes, bringing strings of cocoanuts, fowls, and pigs, to trade. + But when we were alongside, many canoes of us, the men on board began to + shoot us with rifles, and as we paddled away I saw the mate who had gone + to sea in the little boat spring upon the rail and dance and yell, Yah! + Yah! Yah!' + </p> + <p> + “That afternoon they landed from the schooner in three small boats filled + with white men. They went right through the village, shooting every man + they saw. Also they shot the fowls and pigs. We who were not killed got + away in canoes and paddled out into the lagoon. Looking back, we could see + all the houses on fire. Late in the afternoon we saw many canoes coming + from Nihi, which is the village near the Nihi Passage in the northeast. + They were all that were left, and like us their village had been burned by + a second schooner that had come through Nihi Passage. + </p> + <p> + “We stood on in the darkness to the westward for Pauloo, but in the middle + of the night we heard women wailing and then we ran into a big fleet of + canoes. They were all that were left of Pauloo, which likewise was in + ashes, for a third schooner had come in through the Pauloo Passage. You + see, that mate, with his black boys, had not been drowned. He had made the + Solomon Islands, and there told his brothers of what we had done in + Oolong. And all his brothers had said they would come and punish us, and + there they were in the three schooners, and our three villages were wiped + out. + </p> + <p> + “And what was there for us to do? In the morning the two schooners from + windward sailed down upon us in the middle of the lagoon. The trade wind + was blowing fresh, and by scores of canoes they ran us down. And the + rifles never ceased talking. We scattered like flying fish before the + bonita, and there were so many of us that we escaped by thousands, this + way and that, to the islands on the rim of the atoll. + </p> + <p> + “And thereafter the schooners hunted us up and down the lagoon. In the + nighttime we slipped past them. But the next day, or in two days or three + days, the schooners would be coming back, hunting us toward the other end + of the lagoon. And so it went. We no longer counted nor remembered our + dead. True, we were many and they were few. But what could we do? I was in + one of the twenty canoes filled with men who were not afraid to die. We + attacked the smallest schooner. They shot us down in heaps. They threw + dynamite into the canoes, and when the dynamite gave out, they threw hot + water down upon us. And the rifles never ceased talking. And those whose + canoes were smashed were shot as they swam away. And the mate danced up + and down upon the cabin top and yelled, 'Yah! Yah! Yah!'” + </p> + <p> + “Every house on every smallest island was burned. Not a pig nor a fowl was + left alive. Our wells were defiled with the bodies of the slain, or else + heaped high with coral rock. We were twenty-five thousand on Oolong before + the three schooners came. Today we are five thousand. After the schooners + left, we were but three thousand, as you shall see. + </p> + <p> + “At last the three schooners grew tired of chasing us back and forth. So + they went, the three of them, to Nihi, in the northeast. And then they + drove us steadily to the west. Their nine boats were in the water as well. + They beat up every island as they moved along. They drove us, drove us, + drove us day by day. And every night the three schooners and the nine + boats made a chain of watchfulness that stretched across the lagoon from + rim to rim, so that we could not escape back. + </p> + <p> + “They could not drive us forever that way, for the lagoon was only so + large, and at last all of us that yet lived were driven upon the last sand + bank to the west. Beyond lay the open sea. There were ten thousand of us, + and we covered the sand bank from the lagoon edge to the pounding surf on + the other side. No one could lie down. There was no room. We stood hip to + hip and shoulder to shoulder. Two days they kept us there, and the mate + would climb up in the rigging to mock us and yell, Yah! Yah! Yah!' till we + were well sorry that we had ever harmed him or his schooner a month + before. We had no food, and we stood on our feet two days and nights. The + little babies died, and the old and weak died, and the wounded died. And + worst of all, we had no water to quench our thirst, and for two days the + sun beat down on us, and there was no shade. Many men and women waded out + into the ocean and were drowned, the surf casting their bodies back on the + beach. And there came a pest of flies. Some men swam to the sides of the + schooners, but they were shot to the last one. And we that lived were very + sorry that in our pride we tried to take the schooner with the three masts + that came to fish for beche-de-mer. + </p> + <p> + “On the morning of the third day came the skippers of the three schooners + and that mate in a small boat. They carried rifles, all of them, and + revolvers, and they made talk. It was only that they were weary of killing + us that they had stopped, they told us. And we told them that we were + sorry, that never again would we harm a white man, and in token of our + submission we poured sand upon our heads. And all the women and children + set up a great wailing for water, so that for some time no man could make + himself heard. Then we were told our punishment. We must fill the three + schooners with copra and beche-de-mer. And we agreed, for we wanted water, + and our hearts were broken, and we knew that we were children at fighting + when we fought with white men who fight like hell. And when all the talk + was finished, the mate stood up and mocked us, and yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' + After that we paddled away in our canoes and sought water. + </p> + <p> + “And for weeks we toiled at catching beche-de-mer and curing it, in + gathering the cocoanuts and turning them into copra. By day and night the + smoke rose in clouds from all the beaches of all the islands of Oolong as + we paid the penalty of our wrongdoing. For in those days of death it was + burned clearly on all our brains that it was very wrong to harm a white + man. + </p> + <p> + “By and by, the schooners full of copra and beche-de-mer and our trees + empty of cocoanuts, the three skippers and that mate called us all + together for a big talk. And they said they were very glad that we had + learned our lesson, and we said for the ten-thousandth time that we were + sorry and that we would not do it again. Also, we poured sand upon our + heads. Then the skippers said that it was all very well, but just to show + us that they did not forget us, they would send a devil-devil that we + would never forget and that we would always remember any time we might + feel like harming a white man. After that the mate mocked us one more time + and yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' Then six of our men, whom we thought long + dead, were put ashore from one of the schooners, and the schooners hoisted + their sails and ran out through the passage for the Solomons. + </p> + <p> + “The six men who were put ashore were the first to catch the devil-devil + the skippers sent back after us.” + </p> + <p> + “A great sickness came,” I interrupted, for I recognized the trick. The + schooner had had measles on board, and the six prisoners had been + deliberately exposed to it. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, a great sickness,” Oti went on. “It was a powerful devil-devil. The + oldest man had never heard of the like. Those of our priests that yet + lived we killed because they could not overcome the devil-devil. The + sickness spread. I have said that there were ten thousand of us that stood + hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder on the sandbank. When the sickness + left us, there were three thousand yet alive. Also, having made all our + cocoanuts into copra, there was a famine. + </p> + <p> + “That fella trader,” Oti concluded, “he like 'm that much dirt. He like 'm + clam he die KAI-KAI (meat) he stop, stink 'm any amount. He like 'm one + fella dog, one sick fella dog plenty fleas stop along him. We no fright + along that fella trader. We fright because he white man. We savve plenty + too much no good kill white man. That one fella sick dog trader he plenty + brother stop along him, white men like 'm you fight like hell. We no + fright that damn trader. Some time he made kanaka plenty cross along him + and kanaka want 'm kill m, kanaka he think devil-devil and kanaka he hear + that fella mate sing out, Yah! Yah! Yah!' and kanaka no kill 'm.” + </p> + <p> + Oti baited his hook with a piece of squid, which he tore with his teeth + from the live and squirming monster, and hook and bait sank in white + flames to the bottom. + </p> + <p> + “Shark walk about he finish,” he said. “I think we catch 'm plenty fella + fish.” + </p> + <p> + His line jerked savagely. He pulled it in rapidly, hand under hand, and + landed a big gasping rock cod in the bottom of the canoe. + </p> + <p> + “Sun he come up, I make 'm that dam fella trader one present big fella + fish,” said Oti. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE HEATHEN + </h2> + <p> + I met him first in a hurricane; and though we had gone through the + hurricane on the same schooner, it was not until the schooner had gone to + pieces under us that I first laid eyes on him. Without doubt I had seen + him with the rest of the kanaka crew on board, but I had not consciously + been aware of his existence, for the Petite Jeanne was rather overcrowded. + In addition to her eight or ten kanaka seamen, her white captain, mate, + and supercargo, and her six cabin passengers, she sailed from Rangiroa + with something like eighty-five deck passengers—Paumotans and + Tahitians, men, women, and children each with a trade box, to say nothing + of sleeping mats, blankets, and clothes bundles. + </p> + <p> + The pearling season in the Paumotus was over, and all hands were returning + to Tahiti. The six of us cabin passengers were pearl buyers. Two were + Americans, one was Ah Choon (the whitest Chinese I have ever known), one + was a German, one was a Polish Jew, and I completed the half dozen. + </p> + <p> + It had been a prosperous season. Not one of us had cause for complaint, + nor one of the eighty-five deck passengers either. All had done well, and + all were looking forward to a rest-off and a good time in Papeete. + </p> + <p> + Of course, the Petite Jeanne was overloaded. She was only seventy tons, + and she had no right to carry a tithe of the mob she had on board. Beneath + her hatches she was crammed and jammed with pearl shell and copra. Even + the trade room was packed full with shell. It was a miracle that the + sailors could work her. There was no moving about the decks. They simply + climbed back and forth along the rails. + </p> + <p> + In the night time they walked upon the sleepers, who carpeted the deck, + I'll swear, two deep. Oh! And there were pigs and chickens on deck, and + sacks of yams, while every conceivable place was festooned with strings of + drinking cocoanuts and bunches of bananas. On both sides, between the fore + and main shrouds, guys had been stretched, just low enough for the + foreboom to swing clear; and from each of these guys at least fifty + bunches of bananas were suspended. + </p> + <p> + It promised to be a messy passage, even if we did make it in the two or + three days that would have been required if the southeast trades had been + blowing fresh. But they weren't blowing fresh. After the first five hours + the trade died away in a dozen or so gasping fans. The calm continued all + that night and the next day—one of those glaring, glassy, calms, + when the very thought of opening one's eyes to look at it is sufficient to + cause a headache. + </p> + <p> + The second day a man died—an Easter Islander, one of the best divers + that season in the lagoon. Smallpox—that is what it was; though how + smallpox could come on board, when there had been no known cases ashore + when we left Rangiroa, is beyond me. There it was, though—smallpox, + a man dead, and three others down on their backs. + </p> + <p> + There was nothing to be done. We could not segregate the sick, nor could + we care for them. We were packed like sardines. There was nothing to do + but rot and die—that is, there was nothing to do after the night + that followed the first death. On that night, the mate, the supercargo, + the Polish Jew, and four native divers sneaked away in the large whale + boat. They were never heard of again. In the morning the captain promptly + scuttled the remaining boats, and there we were. + </p> + <p> + That day there were two deaths; the following day three; then it jumped to + eight. It was curious to see how we took it. The natives, for instance, + fell into a condition of dumb, stolid fear. The captain—Oudouse, his + name was, a Frenchman—became very nervous and voluble. He actually + got the twitches. He was a large fleshy man, weighing at least two hundred + pounds, and he quickly became a faithful representation of a quivering + jelly-mountain of fat. + </p> + <p> + The German, the two Americans, and myself bought up all the Scotch + whiskey, and proceeded to stay drunk. The theory was beautiful—namely, + if we kept ourselves soaked in alcohol, every smallpox germ that came into + contact with us would immediately be scorched to a cinder. And the theory + worked, though I must confess that neither Captain Oudouse nor Ah Choon + were attacked by the disease either. The Frenchman did not drink at all, + while Ah Choon restricted himself to one drink daily. + </p> + <p> + It was a pretty time. The sun, going into northern declination, was + straight overhead. There was no wind, except for frequent squalls, which + blew fiercely for from five minutes to half an hour, and wound up by + deluging us with rain. After each squall, the awful sun would come out, + drawing clouds of steam from the soaked decks. + </p> + <p> + The steam was not nice. It was the vapor of death, freighted with millions + and millions of germs. We always took another drink when we saw it going + up from the dead and dying, and usually we took two or three more drinks, + mixing them exceptionally stiff. Also, we made it a rule to take an + additional several each time they hove the dead over to the sharks that + swarmed about us. + </p> + <p> + We had a week of it, and then the whiskey gave out. It is just as well, or + I shouldn't be alive now. It took a sober man to pull through what + followed, as you will agree when I mention the little fact that only two + men did pull through. The other man was the heathen—at least, that + was what I heard Captain Oudouse call him at the moment I first became + aware of the heathen's existence. But to come back. + </p> + <p> + It was at the end of the week, with the whiskey gone, and the pearl buyers + sober, that I happened to glance at the barometer that hung in the cabin + companionway. Its normal register in the Paumotus was 29.90, and it was + quite customary to see it vacillate between 29.85 and 30.00, or even + 30.05; but to see it as I saw it, down to 29.62, was sufficient to sober + the most drunken pearl buyer that ever incinerated smallpox microbes in + Scotch whiskey. + </p> + <p> + I called Captain Oudouse's attention to it, only to be informed that he + had watched it going down for several hours. There was little to do, but + that little he did very well, considering the circumstances. He took off + the light sails, shortened right down to storm canvas, spread life lines, + and waited for the wind. His mistake lay in what he did after the wind + came. He hove to on the port tack, which was the right thing to do south + of the Equator, if—and there was the rub—IF one were NOT in + the direct path of the hurricane. + </p> + <p> + We were in the direct path. I could see that by the steady increase of the + wind and the equally steady fall of the barometer. I wanted him to turn + and run with the wind on the port quarter until the barometer ceased + falling, and then to heave to. We argued till he was reduced to hysteria, + but budge he would not. The worst of it was that I could not get the rest + of the pearl buyers to back me up. Who was I, anyway, to know more about + the sea and its ways than a properly qualified captain? was what was in + their minds, I knew. + </p> + <p> + Of course, the sea rose with the wind frightfully; and I shall never + forget the first three seas the Petite Jeanne shipped. She had fallen off, + as vessels do at times when hove to, and the first sea made a clean + breach. The life lines were only for the strong and well, and little good + were they even for them when the women and children, the bananas and + cocoanuts, the pigs and trade boxes, the sick and the dying, were swept + along in a solid, screeching, groaning mass. + </p> + <p> + The second sea filled the Petite Jeanne's decks flush with the rails; and, + as her stern sank down and her bow tossed skyward, all the miserable + dunnage of life and luggage poured aft. It was a human torrent. They came + head first, feet first, sidewise, rolling over and over, twisting, + squirming, writhing, and crumpling up. Now and again one caught a grip on + a stanchion or a rope; but the weight of the bodies behind tore such grips + loose. + </p> + <p> + One man I noticed fetch up, head on and square on, with the starboard + bitt. His head cracked like an egg. I saw what was coming, sprang on top + of the cabin, and from there into the mainsail itself. Ah Choon and one of + the Americans tried to follow me, but I was one jump ahead of them. The + American was swept away and over the stern like a piece of chaff. Ah Choon + caught a spoke of the wheel, and swung in behind it. But a strapping + Raratonga vahine (woman)—she must have weighed two hundred and fifty—brought + up against him, and got an arm around his neck. He clutched the kanaka + steersman with his other hand; and just at that moment the schooner flung + down to starboard. + </p> + <p> + The rush of bodies and sea that was coming along the port runway between + the cabin and the rail turned abruptly and poured to starboard. Away they + went—vahine, Ah Choon, and steersman; and I swear I saw Ah Choon + grin at me with philosophic resignation as he cleared the rail and went + under. + </p> + <p> + The third sea—the biggest of the three—did not do so much + damage. By the time it arrived nearly everybody was in the rigging. On + deck perhaps a dozen gasping, half-drowned, and half-stunned wretches were + rolling about or attempting to crawl into safety. They went by the board, + as did the wreckage of the two remaining boats. The other pearl buyers and + myself, between seas, managed to get about fifteen women and children into + the cabin, and battened down. Little good it did the poor creatures in the + end. + </p> + <p> + Wind? Out of all my experience I could not have believed it possible for + the wind to blow as it did. There is no describing it. How can one + describe a nightmare? It was the same way with that wind. It tore the + clothes off our bodies. I say TORE THEM OFF, and I mean it. I am not + asking you to believe it. I am merely telling something that I saw and + felt. There are times when I do not believe it myself. I went through it, + and that is enough. One could not face that wind and live. It was a + monstrous thing, and the most monstrous thing about it was that it + increased and continued to increase. + </p> + <p> + Imagine countless millions and billions of tons of sand. Imagine this sand + tearing along at ninety, a hundred, a hundred and twenty, or any other + number of miles per hour. Imagine, further, this sand to be invisible, + impalpable, yet to retain all the weight and density of sand. Do all this, + and you may get a vague inkling of what that wind was like. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps sand is not the right comparison. Consider it mud, invisible, + impalpable, but heavy as mud. Nay, it goes beyond that. Consider every + molecule of air to be a mudbank in itself. Then try to imagine the + multitudinous impact of mudbanks. No; it is beyond me. Language may be + adequate to express the ordinary conditions of life, but it cannot + possibly express any of the conditions of so enormous a blast of wind. It + would have been better had I stuck by my original intention of not + attempting a description. + </p> + <p> + I will say this much: The sea, which had risen at first, was beaten down + by that wind. More: it seemed as if the whole ocean had been sucked up in + the maw of the hurricane, and hurled on through that portion of space + which previously had been occupied by the air. + </p> + <p> + Of course, our canvas had gone long before. But Captain Oudouse had on the + Petite Jeanne something I had never before seen on a South Sea schooner—a + sea anchor. It was a conical canvas bag, the mouth of which was kept open + by a huge loop of iron. The sea anchor was bridled something like a kite, + so that it bit into the water as a kite bites into the air, but with a + difference. The sea anchor remained just under the surface of the ocean in + a perpendicular position. A long line, in turn, connected it with the + schooner. As a result, the Petite Jeanne rode bow on to the wind and to + what sea there was. + </p> + <p> + The situation really would have been favorable had we not been in the path + of the storm. True, the wind itself tore our canvas out of the gaskets, + jerked out our topmasts, and made a raffle of our running gear, but still + we would have come through nicely had we not been square in front of the + advancing storm center. That was what fixed us. I was in a state of + stunned, numbed, paralyzed collapse from enduring the impact of the wind, + and I think I was just about ready to give up and die when the center + smote us. The blow we received was an absolute lull. There was not a + breath of air. The effect on one was sickening. + </p> + <p> + Remember that for hours we had been at terrific muscular tension, + withstanding the awful pressure of that wind. And then, suddenly, the + pressure was removed. I know that I felt as though I was about to expand, + to fly apart in all directions. It seemed as if every atom composing my + body was repelling every other atom and was on the verge of rushing off + irresistibly into space. But that lasted only for a moment. Destruction + was upon us. + </p> + <p> + In the absence of the wind and pressure the sea rose. It jumped, it + leaped, it soared straight toward the clouds. Remember, from every point + of the compass that inconceivable wind was blowing in toward the center of + calm. The result was that the seas sprang up from every point of the + compass. There was no wind to check them. They popped up like corks + released from the bottom of a pail of water. There was no system to them, + no stability. They were hollow, maniacal seas. They were eighty feet high + at the least. They were not seas at all. They resembled no sea a man had + ever seen. + </p> + <p> + They were splashes, monstrous splashes—that is all. Splashes that + were eighty feet high. Eighty! They were more than eighty. They went over + our mastheads. They were spouts, explosions. They were drunken. They fell + anywhere, anyhow. They jostled one another; they collided. They rushed + together and collapsed upon one another, or fell apart like a thousand + waterfalls all at once. It was no ocean any man had ever dreamed of, that + hurricane center. It was confusion thrice confounded. It was anarchy. It + was a hell pit of sea water gone mad. + </p> + <p> + The Petite Jeanne? I don't know. The heathen told me afterwards that he + did not know. She was literally torn apart, ripped wide open, beaten into + a pulp, smashed into kindling wood, annihilated. When I came to I was in + the water, swimming automatically, though I was about two-thirds drowned. + How I got there I had no recollection. I remembered seeing the Petite + Jeanne fly to pieces at what must have been the instant that my own + consciousness was buffeted out of me. But there I was, with nothing to do + but make the best of it, and in that best there was little promise. The + wind was blowing again, the sea was much smaller and more regular, and I + knew that I had passed through the center. Fortunately, there were no + sharks about. The hurricane had dissipated the ravenous horde that had + surrounded the death ship and fed off the dead. + </p> + <p> + It was about midday when the Petite Jeanne went to pieces, and it must + have been two hours afterwards when I picked up with one of her hatch + covers. Thick rain was driving at the time; and it was the merest chance + that flung me and the hatch cover together. A short length of line was + trailing from the rope handle; and I knew that I was good for a day, at + least, if the sharks did not return. Three hours later, possibly a little + longer, sticking close to the cover, and with closed eyes, concentrating + my whole soul upon the task of breathing in enough air to keep me going + and at the same time of avoiding breathing in enough water to drown me, it + seemed to me that I heard voices. The rain had ceased, and wind and sea + were easing marvelously. Not twenty feet away from me, on another hatch + cover were Captain Oudouse and the heathen. They were fighting over the + possession of the cover—at least, the Frenchman was. “Paien noir!” I + heard him scream, and at the same time I saw him kick the kanaka. + </p> + <p> + Now, Captain Oudouse had lost all his clothes, except his shoes, and they + were heavy brogans. It was a cruel blow, for it caught the heathen on the + mouth and the point of the chin, half stunning him. I looked for him to + retaliate, but he contented himself with swimming about forlornly a safe + ten feet away. Whenever a fling of the sea threw him closer, the + Frenchman, hanging on with his hands, kicked out at him with both feet. + Also, at the moment of delivering each kick, he called the kanaka a black + heathen. + </p> + <p> + “For two centimes I'd come over there and drown you, you white beast!” I + yelled. + </p> + <p> + The only reason I did not go was that I felt too tired. The very thought + of the effort to swim over was nauseating. So I called to the kanaka to + come to me, and proceeded to share the hatch cover with him. Otoo, he told + me his name was (pronounced o-to-o ); also, he told me that he was a + native of Bora Bora, the most westerly of the Society Group. As I learned + afterward, he had got the hatch cover first, and, after some time, + encountering Captain Oudouse, had offered to share it with him, and had + been kicked off for his pains. + </p> + <p> + And that was how Otoo and I first came together. He was no fighter. He was + all sweetness and gentleness, a love creature, though he stood nearly six + feet tall and was muscled like a gladiator. He was no fighter, but he was + also no coward. He had the heart of a lion; and in the years that followed + I have seen him run risks that I would never dream of taking. What I mean + is that while he was no fighter, and while he always avoided precipitating + a row, he never ran away from trouble when it started. And it was “Ware + shoal!” when once Otoo went into action. I shall never forget what he did + to Bill King. It occurred in German Samoa. Bill King was hailed the + champion heavyweight of the American Navy. He was a big brute of a man, a + veritable gorilla, one of those hard-hitting, rough-housing chaps, and + clever with his fists as well. He picked the quarrel, and he kicked Otoo + twice and struck him once before Otoo felt it to be necessary to fight. I + don't think it lasted four minutes, at the end of which time Bill King was + the unhappy possessor of four broken ribs, a broken forearm, and a + dislocated shoulder blade. Otoo knew nothing of scientific boxing. He was + merely a manhandler; and Bill King was something like three months in + recovering from the bit of manhandling he received that afternoon on Apia + beach. + </p> + <p> + But I am running ahead of my yarn. We shared the hatch cover between us. + We took turn and turn about, one lying flat on the cover and resting, + while the other, submerged to the neck, merely held on with his hands. For + two days and nights, spell and spell, on the cover and in the water, we + drifted over the ocean. Towards the last I was delirious most of the time; + and there were times, too, when I heard Otoo babbling and raving in his + native tongue. Our continuous immersion prevented us from dying of thirst, + though the sea water and the sunshine gave us the prettiest imaginable + combination of salt pickle and sunburn. + </p> + <p> + In the end, Otoo saved my life; for I came to lying on the beach twenty + feet from the water, sheltered from the sun by a couple of cocoanut + leaves. No one but Otoo could have dragged me there and stuck up the + leaves for shade. He was lying beside me. I went off again; and the next + time I came round, it was cool and starry night, and Otoo was pressing a + drinking cocoanut to my lips. + </p> + <p> + We were the sole survivors of the Petite Jeanne. Captain Oudouse must have + succumbed to exhaustion, for several days later his hatch cover drifted + ashore without him. Otoo and I lived with the natives of the atoll for a + week, when we were rescued by the French cruiser and taken to Tahiti. In + the meantime, however, we had performed the ceremony of exchanging names. + In the South Seas such a ceremony binds two men closer together than blood + brothership. The initiative had been mine; and Otoo was rapturously + delighted when I suggested it. + </p> + <p> + “It is well,” he said, in Tahitian. “For we have been mates together for + two days on the lips of Death.” + </p> + <p> + “But death stuttered,” I smiled. + </p> + <p> + “It was a brave deed you did, master,” he replied, “and Death was not vile + enough to speak.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you 'master' me?” I demanded, with a show of hurt feelings. “We + have exchanged names. To you I am Otoo. To me you are Charley. And between + you and me, forever and forever, you shall be Charley, and I shall be + Otoo. It is the way of the custom. And when we die, if it does happen that + we live again somewhere beyond the stars and the sky, still shall you be + Charley to me, and I Otoo to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, master,” he answered, his eyes luminous and soft with joy. + </p> + <p> + “There you go!” I cried indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “What does it matter what my lips utter?” he argued. “They are only my + lips. But I shall think Otoo always. Whenever I think of myself, I shall + think of you. Whenever men call me by name, I shall think of you. And + beyond the sky and beyond the stars, always and forever, you shall be Otoo + to me. Is it well, master?” + </p> + <p> + I hid my smile, and answered that it was well. + </p> + <p> + We parted at Papeete. I remained ashore to recuperate; and he went on in a + cutter to his own island, Bora Bora. Six weeks later he was back. I was + surprised, for he had told me of his wife, and said that he was returning + to her, and would give over sailing on far voyages. + </p> + <p> + “Where do you go, master?” he asked, after our first greetings. + </p> + <p> + I shrugged my shoulders. It was a hard question. + </p> + <p> + “All the world,” was my answer—“all the world, all the sea, and all + the islands that are in the sea.” + </p> + <p> + “I will go with you,” he said simply. “My wife is dead.” + </p> + <p> + I never had a brother; but from what I have seen of other men's brothers, + I doubt if any man ever had a brother that was to him what Otoo was to me. + He was brother and father and mother as well. And this I know: I lived a + straighter and better man because of Otoo. I cared little for other men, + but I had to live straight in Otoo's eyes. Because of him I dared not + tarnish myself. He made me his ideal, compounding me, I fear, chiefly out + of his own love and worship and there were times when I stood close to the + steep pitch of hell, and would have taken the plunge had not the thought + of Otoo restrained me. His pride in me entered into me, until it became + one of the major rules in my personal code to do nothing that would + diminish that pride of his. + </p> + <p> + Naturally, I did not learn right away what his feelings were toward me. He + never criticized, never censured; and slowly the exalted place I held in + his eyes dawned upon me, and slowly I grew to comprehend the hurt I could + inflict upon him by being anything less than my best. + </p> + <p> + For seventeen years we were together; for seventeen years he was at my + shoulder, watching while I slept, nursing me through fever and wounds—ay, + and receiving wounds in fighting for me. He signed on the same ships with + me; and together we ranged the Pacific from Hawaii to Sydney Head, and + from Torres Straits to the Galapagos. We blackbirded from the New Hebrides + and the Line Islands over to the westward clear through the Louisades, New + Britain, New Ireland, and New Hanover. We were wrecked three times—in + the Gilberts, in the Santa Cruz group, and in the Fijis. And we traded and + salved wherever a dollar promised in the way of pearl and pearl shell, + copra, beche-de-mer, hawkbill turtle shell, and stranded wrecks. + </p> + <p> + It began in Papeete, immediately after his announcement that he was going + with me over all the sea, and the islands in the midst thereof. There was + a club in those days in Papeete, where the pearlers, traders, captains, + and riffraff of South Sea adventurers forgathered. The play ran high, and + the drink ran high; and I am very much afraid that I kept later hours than + were becoming or proper. No matter what the hour was when I left the club, + there was Otoo waiting to see me safely home. + </p> + <p> + At first I smiled; next I chided him. Then I told him flatly that I stood + in need of no wet-nursing. After that I did not see him when I came out of + the club. Quite by accident, a week or so later, I discovered that he + still saw me home, lurking across the street among the shadows of the + mango trees. What could I do? I know what I did do. + </p> + <p> + Insensibly I began to keep better hours. On wet and stormy nights, in the + thick of the folly and the fun, the thought would persist in coming to me + of Otoo keeping his dreary vigil under the dripping mangoes. Truly, he + made a better man of me. Yet he was not strait-laced. And he knew nothing + of common Christian morality. All the people on Bora Bora were Christians; + but he was a heathen, the only unbeliever on the island, a gross + materialist, who believed that when he died he was dead. He believed + merely in fair play and square dealing. Petty meanness, in his code, was + almost as serious as wanton homicide; and I do believe that he respected a + murderer more than a man given to small practices. + </p> + <p> + Concerning me, personally, he objected to my doing anything that was + hurtful to me. Gambling was all right. He was an ardent gambler himself. + But late hours, he explained, were bad for one's health. He had seen men + who did not take care of themselves die of fever. He was no teetotaler, + and welcomed a stiff nip any time when it was wet work in the boats. On + the other hand, he believed in liquor in moderation. He had seen many men + killed or disgraced by square-face or Scotch. + </p> + <p> + Otoo had my welfare always at heart. He thought ahead for me, weighed my + plans, and took a greater interest in them than I did myself. At first, + when I was unaware of this interest of his in my affairs, he had to divine + my intentions, as, for instance, at Papeete, when I contemplated going + partners with a knavish fellow-countryman on a guano venture. I did not + know he was a knave. Nor did any white man in Papeete. Neither did Otoo + know, but he saw how thick we were getting, and found out for me, and + without my asking him. Native sailors from the ends of the seas knock + about on the beach in Tahiti; and Otoo, suspicious merely, went among them + till he had gathered sufficient data to justify his suspicions. Oh, it was + a nice history, that of Randolph Waters. I couldn't believe it when Otoo + first narrated it; but when I sheeted it home to Waters he gave in without + a murmur, and got away on the first steamer to Aukland. + </p> + <p> + At first, I am free to confess, I couldn't help resenting Otoo's poking + his nose into my business. But I knew that he was wholly unselfish; and + soon I had to acknowledge his wisdom and discretion. He had his eyes open + always to my main chance, and he was both keen-sighted and far-sighted. In + time he became my counselor, until he knew more of my business than I did + myself. He really had my interest at heart more than I did. Mine was the + magnificent carelessness of youth, for I preferred romance to dollars, and + adventure to a comfortable billet with all night in. So it was well that I + had some one to look out for me. I know that if it had not been for Otoo, + I should not be here today. + </p> + <p> + Of numerous instances, let me give one. I had had some experience in + blackbirding before I went pearling in the Paumotus. Otoo and I were on + the beach in Samoa—we really were on the beach and hard aground—when + my chance came to go as recruiter on a blackbird brig. Otoo signed on + before the mast; and for the next half-dozen years, in as many ships, we + knocked about the wildest portions of Melanesia. Otoo saw to it that he + always pulled stroke-oar in my boat. Our custom in recruiting labor was to + land the recruiter on the beach. The covering boat always lay on its oars + several hundred feet off shore, while the recruiter's boat, also lying on + its oars, kept afloat on the edge of the beach. When I landed with my + trade goods, leaving my steering sweep apeak, Otoo left his stroke + position and came into the stern sheets, where a Winchester lay ready to + hand under a flap of canvas. The boat's crew was also armed, the Sniders + concealed under canvas flaps that ran the length of the gunwales. + </p> + <p> + While I was busy arguing and persuading the woolly-headed cannibals to + come and labor on the Queensland plantations Otoo kept watch. And often + and often his low voice warned me of suspicious actions and impending + treachery. Sometimes it was the quick shot from his rifle, knocking a + nigger over, that was the first warning I received. And in my rush to the + boat his hand was always there to jerk me flying aboard. Once, I remember, + on SANTA ANNA, the boat grounded just as the trouble began. The covering + boat was dashing to our assistance, but the several score of savages would + have wiped us out before it arrived. Otoo took a flying leap ashore, dug + both hands into the trade goods, and scattered tobacco, beads, tomahawks, + knives, and calicoes in all directions. + </p> + <p> + This was too much for the woolly-heads. While they scrambled for the + treasures, the boat was shoved clear, and we were aboard and forty feet + away. And I got thirty recruits off that very beach in the next four + hours. + </p> + <p> + The particular instance I have in mind was on Malaita, the most savage + island in the easterly Solomons. The natives had been remarkably friendly; + and how were we to know that the whole village had been taking up a + collection for over two years with which to buy a white man's head? The + beggars are all head-hunters, and they especially esteem a white man's + head. The fellow who captured the head would receive the whole collection. + As I say, they appeared very friendly; and on this day I was fully a + hundred yards down the beach from the boat. Otoo had cautioned me; and, as + usual when I did not heed him, I came to grief. + </p> + <p> + The first I knew, a cloud of spears sailed out of the mangrove swamp at + me. At least a dozen were sticking into me. I started to run, but tripped + over one that was fast in my calf, and went down. The woolly-heads made a + run for me, each with a long-handled, fantail tomahawk with which to hack + off my head. They were so eager for the prize that they got in one + another's way. In the confusion, I avoided several hacks by throwing + myself right and left on the sand. + </p> + <p> + Then Otoo arrived—Otoo the manhandler. In some way he had got hold + of a heavy war club, and at close quarters it was a far more efficient + weapon than a rifle. He was right in the thick of them, so that they could + not spear him, while their tomahawks seemed worse than useless. He was + fighting for me, and he was in a true Berserker rage. The way he handled + that club was amazing. + </p> + <p> + Their skulls squashed like overripe oranges. It was not until he had + driven them back, picked me up in his arms, and started to run, that he + received his first wounds. He arrived in the boat with four spear thrusts, + got his Winchester, and with it got a man for every shot. Then we pulled + aboard the schooner, and doctored up. + </p> + <p> + Seventeen years we were together. He made me. I should today be a + supercargo, a recruiter, or a memory, if it had not been for him. + </p> + <p> + “You spend your money, and you go out and get more,” he said one day. “It + is easy to get money now. But when you get old, your money will be spent, + and you will not be able to go out and get more. I know, master. I have + studied the way of white men. On the beaches are many old men who were + young once, and who could get money just like you. Now they are old, and + they have nothing, and they wait about for the young men like you to come + ashore and buy drinks for them. + </p> + <p> + “The black boy is a slave on the plantations. He gets twenty dollars a + year. He works hard. The overseer does not work hard. He rides a horse and + watches the black boy work. He gets twelve hundred dollars a year. I am a + sailor on the schooner. I get fifteen dollars a month. That is because I + am a good sailor. I work hard. The captain has a double awning, and drinks + beer out of long bottles. I have never seen him haul a rope or pull an + oar. He gets one hundred and fifty dollars a month. I am a sailor. He is a + navigator. Master, I think it would be very good for you to know + navigation.” + </p> + <p> + Otoo spurred me on to it. He sailed with me as second mate on my first + schooner, and he was far prouder of my command than I was myself. Later on + it was: + </p> + <p> + “The captain is well paid, master; but the ship is in his keeping, and he + is never free from the burden. It is the owner who is better paid—the + owner who sits ashore with many servants and turns his money over.” + </p> + <p> + “True, but a schooner costs five thousand dollars—an old schooner at + that,” I objected. “I should be an old man before I saved five thousand + dollars.” + </p> + <p> + “There be short ways for white men to make money,” he went on, pointing + ashore at the cocoanut-fringed beach. + </p> + <p> + We were in the Solomons at the time, picking up a cargo of ivory nuts + along the east coast of Guadalcanar. + </p> + <p> + “Between this river mouth and the next it is two miles,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “The flat land runs far back. It is worth nothing now. Next year—who + knows?—or the year after, men will pay much money for that land. The + anchorage is good. Big steamers can lie close up. You can buy the land + four miles deep from the old chief for ten thousand sticks of tobacco, ten + bottles of square-face, and a Snider, which will cost you, maybe, one + hundred dollars. Then you place the deed with the commissioner; and the + next year, or the year after, you sell and become the owner of a ship.” + </p> + <p> + I followed his lead, and his words came true, though in three years, + instead of two. Next came the grasslands deal on Guadalcanar—twenty + thousand acres, on a governmental nine hundred and ninety-nine years' + lease at a nominal sum. I owned the lease for precisely ninety days, when + I sold it to a company for half a fortune. Always it was Otoo who looked + ahead and saw the opportunity. He was responsible for the salving of the + Doncaster—bought in at auction for a hundred pounds, and clearing + three thousand after every expense was paid. He led me into the Savaii + plantation and the cocoa venture on Upolu. + </p> + <p> + We did not go seafaring so much as in the old days. I was too well off. I + married, and my standard of living rose; but Otoo remained the same + old-time Otoo, moving about the house or trailing through the office, his + wooden pipe in his mouth, a shilling undershirt on his back, and a + four-shilling lava-lava about his loins. I could not get him to spend + money. There was no way of repaying him except with love, and God knows he + got that in full measure from all of us. The children worshipped him; and + if he had been spoilable, my wife would surely have been his undoing. + </p> + <p> + The children! He really was the one who showed them the way of their feet + in the world practical. He began by teaching them to walk. He sat up with + them when they were sick. One by one, when they were scarcely toddlers, he + took them down to the lagoon, and made them into amphibians. He taught + them more than I ever knew of the habits of fish and the ways of catching + them. In the bush it was the same thing. At seven, Tom knew more woodcraft + than I ever dreamed existed. At six, Mary went over the Sliding Rock + without a quiver, and I have seen strong men balk at that feat. And when + Frank had just turned six he could bring up shillings from the bottom in + three fathoms. + </p> + <p> + “My people in Bora Bora do not like heathen—they are all Christians; + and I do not like Bora Bora Christians,” he said one day, when I, with the + idea of getting him to spend some of the money that was rightfully his, + had been trying to persuade him to make a visit to his own island in one + of our schooners—a special voyage which I had hoped to make a record + breaker in the matter of prodigal expense. + </p> + <p> + I say one of OUR schooners, though legally at the time they belonged to + me. I struggled long with him to enter into partnership. + </p> + <p> + “We have been partners from the day the Petite Jeanne went down,” he said + at last. “But if your heart so wishes, then shall we become partners by + the law. I have no work to do, yet are my expenses large. I drink and eat + and smoke in plenty—it costs much, I know. I do not pay for the + playing of billiards, for I play on your table; but still the money goes. + Fishing on the reef is only a rich man's pleasure. It is shocking, the + cost of hooks and cotton line. Yes; it is necessary that we be partners by + the law. I need the money. I shall get it from the head clerk in the + office.” + </p> + <p> + So the papers were made out and recorded. A year later I was compelled to + complain. + </p> + <p> + “Charley,” said I, “you are a wicked old fraud, a miserly skinflint, a + miserable land crab. Behold, your share for the year in all our + partnership has been thousands of dollars. The head clerk has given me + this paper. It says that in the year you have drawn just eighty-seven + dollars and twenty cents.” + </p> + <p> + “Is there any owing me?” he asked anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you thousands and thousands,” I answered. + </p> + <p> + His face brightened, as with an immense relief. + </p> + <p> + “It is well,” he said. “See that the head clerk keeps good account of it. + When I want it, I shall want it, and there must not be a cent missing. + </p> + <p> + “If there is,” he added fiercely, after a pause, “it must come out of the + clerk's wages.” + </p> + <p> + And all the time, as I afterwards learned, his will, drawn up by + Carruthers, and making me sole beneficiary, lay in the American consul's + safe. + </p> + <p> + But the end came, as the end must come to all human associations. + </p> + <p> + It occurred in the Solomons, where our wildest work had been done in the + wild young days, and where we were once more—principally on a + holiday, incidentally to look after our holdings on Florida Island and to + look over the pearling possibilities of the Mboli Pass. We were lying at + Savo, having run in to trade for curios. + </p> + <p> + Now, Savo is alive with sharks. The custom of the woolly-heads of burying + their dead in the sea did not tend to discourage the sharks from making + the adjacent waters a hangout. It was my luck to be coming aboard in a + tiny, overloaded, native canoe, when the thing capsized. There were four + woolly-heads and myself in it, or rather, hanging to it. The schooner was + a hundred yards away. + </p> + <p> + I was just hailing for a boat when one of the woolly-heads began to + scream. Holding on to the end of the canoe, both he and that portion of + the canoe were dragged under several times. Then he loosed his clutch and + disappeared. A shark had got him. + </p> + <p> + The three remaining niggers tried to climb out of the water upon the + bottom of the canoe. I yelled and cursed and struck at the nearest with my + fist, but it was no use. They were in a blind funk. The canoe could barely + have supported one of them. Under the three it upended and rolled + sidewise, throwing them back into the water. + </p> + <p> + I abandoned the canoe and started to swim toward the schooner, expecting + to be picked up by the boat before I got there. One of the niggers elected + to come with me, and we swam along silently, side by side, now and again + putting our faces into the water and peering about for sharks. The screams + of the man who stayed by the canoe informed us that he was taken. I was + peering into the water when I saw a big shark pass directly beneath me. He + was fully sixteen feet in length. I saw the whole thing. He got the + woolly-head by the middle, and away he went, the poor devil, head, + shoulders, and arms out of the water all the time, screeching in a + heart-rending way. He was carried along in this fashion for several + hundred feet, when he was dragged beneath the surface. + </p> + <p> + I swam doggedly on, hoping that that was the last unattached shark. But + there was another. Whether it was one that had attacked the natives + earlier, or whether it was one that had made a good meal elsewhere, I do + not know. At any rate, he was not in such haste as the others. I could not + swim so rapidly now, for a large part of my effort was devoted to keeping + track of him. I was watching him when he made his first attack. By good + luck I got both hands on his nose, and, though his momentum nearly shoved + me under, I managed to keep him off. He veered clear, and began circling + about again. A second time I escaped him by the same manoeuvre. The third + rush was a miss on both sides. He sheered at the moment my hands should + have landed on his nose, but his sandpaper hide (I had on a sleeveless + undershirt) scraped the skin off one arm from elbow to shoulder. + </p> + <p> + By this time I was played out, and gave up hope. The schooner was still + two hundred feet away. My face was in the water, and I was watching him + manoeuvre for another attempt, when I saw a brown body pass between us. It + was Otoo. + </p> + <p> + “Swim for the schooner, master!” he said. And he spoke gayly, as though + the affair was a mere lark. “I know sharks. The shark is my brother.” + </p> + <p> + I obeyed, swimming slowly on, while Otoo swam about me, keeping always + between me and the shark, foiling his rushes and encouraging me. + </p> + <p> + “The davit tackle carried away, and they are rigging the falls,” he + explained, a minute or so later, and then went under to head off another + attack. + </p> + <p> + By the time the schooner was thirty feet away I was about done for. I + could scarcely move. They were heaving lines at us from on board, but they + continually fell short. The shark, finding that it was receiving no hurt, + had become bolder. Several times it nearly got me, but each time Otoo was + there just the moment before it was too late. Of course, Otoo could have + saved himself any time. But he stuck by me. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, Charley! I'm finished!” I just managed to gasp. + </p> + <p> + I knew that the end had come, and that the next moment I should throw up + my hands and go down. + </p> + <p> + But Otoo laughed in my face, saying: + </p> + <p> + “I will show you a new trick. I will make that shark feel sick!” + </p> + <p> + He dropped in behind me, where the shark was preparing to come at me. + </p> + <p> + “A little more to the left!” he next called out. “There is a line there on + the water. To the left, master—to the left!” + </p> + <p> + I changed my course and struck out blindly. I was by that time barely + conscious. As my hand closed on the line I heard an exclamation from on + board. I turned and looked. There was no sign of Otoo. The next instant he + broke surface. Both hands were off at the wrist, the stumps spouting + blood. + </p> + <p> + “Otoo!” he called softly. And I could see in his gaze the love that + thrilled in his voice. + </p> + <p> + Then, and then only, at the very last of all our years, he called me by + that name. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, Otoo!” he called. + </p> + <p> + Then he was dragged under, and I was hauled aboard, where I fainted in the + captain's arms. + </p> + <p> + And so passed Otoo, who saved me and made me a man, and who saved me in + the end. We met in the maw of a hurricane, and parted in the maw of a + shark, with seventeen intervening years of comradeship, the like of which + I dare to assert has never befallen two men, the one brown and the other + white. If Jehovah be from His high place watching every sparrow fall, not + least in His kingdom shall be Otoo, the one heathen of Bora Bora. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE TERRIBLE SOLOMONS + </h2> + <p> + There is no gainsaying that the Solomons are a hard-bitten bunch of + islands. On the other hand, there are worse places in the world. But to + the new chum who has no constitutional understanding of men and life in + the rough, the Solomons may indeed prove terrible. + </p> + <p> + It is true that fever and dysentery are perpetually on the walk-about, + that loathsome skin diseases abound, that the air is saturated with a + poison that bites into every pore, cut, or abrasion and plants malignant + ulcers, and that many strong men who escape dying there return as wrecks + to their own countries. It is also true that the natives of the Solomons + are a wild lot, with a hearty appetite for human flesh and a fad for + collecting human heads. Their highest instinct of sportsmanship is to + catch a man with his back turned and to smite him a cunning blow with a + tomahawk that severs the spinal column at the base of the brain. It is + equally true that on some islands, such as Malaita, the profit and loss + account of social intercourse is calculated in homicides. Heads are a + medium of exchange, and white heads are extremely valuable. Very often a + dozen villages make a jack-pot, which they fatten moon by moon, against + the time when some brave warrior presents a white man's head, fresh and + gory, and claims the pot. + </p> + <p> + All the foregoing is quite true, and yet there are white men who have + lived in the Solomons a score of years and who feel homesick when they go + away from them. A man needs only to be careful—and lucky—to + live a long time in the Solomons; but he must also be of the right sort. + He must have the hallmark of the inevitable white man stamped upon his + soul. He must be inevitable. He must have a certain grand carelessness of + odds, a certain colossal self-satisfaction, and a racial egotism that + convinces him that one white is better than a thousand niggers every day + in the week, and that on Sunday he is able to clean out two thousand + niggers. For such are the things that have made the white man inevitable. + Oh, and one other thing—the white man who wishes to be inevitable, + must not merely despise the lesser breeds and think a lot of himself; he + must also fail to be too long on imagination. He must not understand too + well the instincts, customs, and mental processes of the blacks, the + yellows, and the browns; for it is not in such fashion that the white race + has tramped its royal road around the world. + </p> + <p> + Bertie Arkwright was not inevitable. He was too sensitive, too finely + strung, and he possessed too much imagination. The world was too much with + him. He projected himself too quiveringly into his environment. Therefore, + the last place in the world for him to come was the Solomons. He did not + come, expecting to stay. A five weeks' stop-over between steamers, he + decided, would satisfy the call of the primitive he felt thrumming the + strings of his being. At least, so he told the lady tourists on the + MAKEMBO, though in different terms; and they worshipped him as a hero, for + they were lady tourists and they would know only the safety of the + steamer's deck as she threaded her way through the Solomons. + </p> + <p> + There was another man on board, of whom the ladies took no notice. He was + a little shriveled wisp of a man, with a withered skin the color of + mahogany. His name on the passenger list does not matter, but his other + name, Captain Malu, was a name for niggers to conjure with, and to scare + naughty pickaninnies to righteousness from New Hanover to the New + Hebrides. He had farmed savages and savagery, and from fever and hardship, + the crack of Sniders and the lash of the overseers, had wrested five + millions of money in the form of bêche-de-mer, sandalwood, pearl-shell and + turtle-shell, ivory nuts and copra, grasslands, trading stations, and + plantations. Captain Malu's little finger, which was broken, had more + inevitableness in it than Bertie Arkwright's whole carcass. But then, the + lady tourists had nothing by which to judge save appearances, and Bertie + certainly was a fine-looking man. + </p> + <p> + Bertie talked with Captain Malu in the smoking room, confiding to him his + intention of seeing life red and bleeding in the Solomons. Captain Malu + agreed that the intention was ambitious and honorable. It was not until + several days later that he became interested in Bertie, when that young + adventurer insisted on showing him an automatic 44-caliber pistol. Bertie + explained the mechanism and demonstrated by slipping a loaded magazine up + the hollow butt. + </p> + <p> + “It is so simple,” he said. He shot the outer barrel back along the inner + one. “That loads it and cocks it, you see. And then all I have to do is + pull the trigger, eight times, as fast as I can quiver my finger. See that + safety clutch. That's what I like about it. It is safe. It is positively + fool-proof.” He slipped out the magazine. “You see how safe it is.” + </p> + <p> + As he held it in his hand, the muzzle came in line with Captain Malu's + stomach. Captain Malu's blue eyes looked at it unswervingly. + </p> + <p> + “Would you mind pointing it in some other direction?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “It's perfectly safe,” Bertie assured him. “I withdrew the magazine. It's + not loaded now, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “A gun is always loaded.” + </p> + <p> + “But this one isn't.” + </p> + <p> + “Turn it away just the same.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Malu's voice was flat and metallic and low, but his eyes never + left the muzzle until the line of it was drawn past him and away from him. + </p> + <p> + “I'll bet a fiver it isn't loaded,” Bertie proposed warmly. + </p> + <p> + The other shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Then I'll show you.” + </p> + <p> + Bertie started to put the muzzle to his own temple with the evident + intention of pulling the trigger. + </p> + <p> + “Just a second,” Captain Malu said quietly, reaching out his hand. “Let me + look at it.” + </p> + <p> + He pointed it seaward and pulled the trigger. A heavy explosion followed, + instantaneous with the sharp click of the mechanism that flipped a hot and + smoking cartridge sidewise along the deck. + </p> + <p> + Bertie's jaw dropped in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “I slipped the barrel back once, didn't I?” he explained. “It was silly of + me, I must say.” + </p> + <p> + He giggled flabbily, and sat down in a steamer chair. The blood had ebbed + from his face, exposing dark circles under his eyes. His hands were + trembling and unable to guide the shaking cigarette to his lips. The world + was too much with him, and he saw himself with dripping brains prone upon + the deck. + </p> + <p> + “Really,” he said, “... really.” + </p> + <p> + “It's a pretty weapon,” said Captain Malu, returning the automatic to him. + </p> + <p> + The Commissioner was on board the Makembo, returning from Sydney, and by + his permission a stop was made at Ugi to land a missionary. And at Ugi lay + the ketch ARLA, Captain Hansen, skipper. Now the Arla was one of many + vessels owned by Captain Malu, and it was at his suggestion and by his + invitation that Bertie went aboard the Arla as guest for a four days' + recruiting cruise on the coast of Malaita. Thereafter the ARLA would drop + him at Reminge Plantation (also owned by Captain Malu), where Bertie could + remain for a week, and then be sent over to Tulagi, the seat of + government, where he would become the Commissioner's guest. Captain Malu + was responsible for two other suggestions, which given, he disappears from + this narrative. One was to Captain Hansen, the other to Mr. Harriwell, + manager of Reminge Plantation. Both suggestions were similar in tenor, + namely, to give Mr. Bertram Arkwright an insight into the rawness and + redness of life in the Solomons. Also, it is whispered that Captain Malu + mentioned that a case of Scotch would be coincidental with any + particularly gorgeous insight Mr. Arkwright might receive............. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Swartz always was too pig-headed. You see, he took four of his + boat's crew to Tulagi to be flogged—officially, you know—then + started back with them in the whaleboat. It was pretty squally, and the + boat capsized just outside. Swartz was the only one drowned. Of course, it + was an accident.” + </p> + <p> + “Was it? Really?” Bertie asked, only half-interested, staring hard at the + black man at the wheel. + </p> + <p> + Ugi had dropped astern, and the ARLA was sliding along through a summer + sea toward the wooded ranges of Malaita. The helmsman who so attracted + Bertie's eyes sported a ten penny nail, stuck skewerwise through his nose. + About his neck was a string of pants buttons. Thrust through holes in his + ears were a can opener, the broken handle of a toothbrush, a clay pipe, + the brass wheel of an alarm clock, and several Winchester rifle + cartridges. + </p> + <p> + On his chest, suspended from around his neck hung the half of a china + plate. Some forty similarly appareled blacks lay about the deck, fifteen + of which were boat's crew, the remainder being fresh labor recruits. + </p> + <p> + “Of course it was an accident,” spoke up the ARLA'S mate, Jacobs, a + slender, dark-eyed man who looked more a professor than a sailor. “Johnny + Bedip nearly had the same kind of accident. He was bringing back several + from a flogging, when they capsized him. But he knew how to swim as well + as they, and two of them were drowned. He used a boat stretcher and a + revolver. Of course it was an accident.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite common, them accidents,” remarked the skipper. “You see that man at + the wheel, Mr. Arkwright? He's a man eater. Six months ago, he and the + rest of the boat's crew drowned the then captain of the ARLA. They did it + on deck, sir, right aft there by the mizzen-traveler.” + </p> + <p> + “The deck was in a shocking state,” said the mate. + </p> + <p> + “Do I understand—?” Bertie began. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, just that,” said Captain Hansen. “It was an accidental drowning.” + </p> + <p> + “But on deck—?” + </p> + <p> + “Just so. I don't mind telling you, in confidence, of course, that they + used an axe.” + </p> + <p> + “This present crew of yours?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Hansen nodded. + </p> + <p> + “The other skipper always was too careless,” explained the mate. “He but + just turned his back, when they let him have it.” + </p> + <p> + “We haven't any show down here,” was the skipper's complaint. “The + government protects a nigger against a white every time. You can't shoot + first. You've got to give the nigger first shot, or else the government + calls it murder and you go to Fiji. That's why there's so many drowning + accidents.” + </p> + <p> + Dinner was called, and Bertie and the skipper went below, leaving the mate + to watch on deck. + </p> + <p> + “Keep an eye out for that black devil, Auiki,” was the skipper's parting + caution. “I haven't liked his looks for several days.” + </p> + <p> + “Right O,” said the mate. + </p> + <p> + Dinner was part way along, and the skipper was in the middle of his story + of the cutting out of the Scottish Chiefs. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he was saying, “she was the finest vessel on the coast. But when + she missed stays, and before ever she hit the reef, the canoes started for + her. There were five white men, a crew of twenty Santa Cruz boys and + Samoans, and only the supercargo escaped. Besides, there were sixty + recruits. They were all kai-kai'd. Kai-kai?—oh, I beg your pardon. I + mean they were eaten. Then there was the James Edwards, a dandy-rigged—” + </p> + <p> + But at that moment there was a sharp oath from the mate on deck and a + chorus of savage cries. A revolver went off three times, and then was + heard a loud splash. Captain Hansen had sprung up the companionway on the + instant, and Bertie's eyes had been fascinated by a glimpse of him drawing + his revolver as he sprang. + </p> + <p> + Bertie went up more circumspectly, hesitating before he put his head above + the companionway slide. But nothing happened. The mate was shaking with + excitement, his revolver in his hand. Once he startled, and half-jumped + around, as if danger threatened his back. + </p> + <p> + “One of the natives fell overboard,” he was saying, in a queer tense + voice. “He couldn't swim.” + </p> + <p> + “Who was it?” the skipper demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Auiki,” was the answer. + </p> + <p> + “But I say, you know, I heard shots,” Bertie said, in trembling eagerness, + for he scented adventure, and adventure that was happily over with. + </p> + <p> + The mate whirled upon him, snarling: + </p> + <p> + “It's a damned lie. There ain't been a shot fired. The nigger fell + overboard.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Hansen regarded Bertie with unblinking, lack-luster eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I—I thought—” Bertie was beginning. + </p> + <p> + “Shots?” said Captain Hansen, dreamily. “Shots? Did you hear any shots, + Mr. Jacobs?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a shot,” replied Mr. Jacobs. + </p> + <p> + The skipper looked at his guest triumphantly, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Evidently an accident. Let us go down, Mr. Arkwright, and finish dinner.” + </p> + <p> + Bertie slept that night in the captain's cabin, a tiny stateroom off the + main cabin. The for'ard bulkhead was decorated with a stand of rifles. + Over the bunk were three more rifles. Under the bunk was a big drawer, + which, when he pulled it out, he found filled with ammunition, dynamite, + and several boxes of detonators. He elected to take the settee on the + opposite side. Lying conspicuously on the small table, was the Arla's log. + Bertie did not know that it had been especially prepared for the occasion + by Captain Malu, and he read therein how on September 21, two boat's crew + had fallen overboard and been drowned. Bertie read between the lines and + knew better. He read how the Arla's whale boat had been bushwhacked at + Su'u and had lost three men; of how the skipper discovered the cook + stewing human flesh on the galley fire—flesh purchased by the boat's + crew ashore in Fui; of how an accidental discharge of dynamite, while + signaling, had killed another boat's crew; of night attacks; ports fled + from between the dawns; attacks by bushmen in mangrove swamps and by + fleets of salt-water men in the larger passages. One item that occurred + with monotonous frequency was death by dysentery. He noticed with alarm + that two white men had so died—guests, like himself, on the Arla. + </p> + <p> + “I say, you know,” Bertie said next day to Captain Hansen. “I've been + glancing through your log.” + </p> + <p> + The skipper displayed quick vexation that the log had been left lying + about. + </p> + <p> + “And all that dysentery, you know, that's all rot, just like the + accidental drownings,” Bertie continued. “What does dysentery really stand + for?” + </p> + <p> + The skipper openly admired his guest's acumen, stiffened himself to make + indignant denial, then gracefully surrendered. + </p> + <p> + “You see, it's like this, Mr. Arkwright. These islands have got a bad + enough name as it is. It's getting harder every day to sign on white men. + Suppose a man is killed. The company has to pay through the nose for + another man to take the job. But if the man merely dies of sickness, it's + all right. The new chums don't mind disease. What they draw the line at is + being murdered. I thought the skipper of the Arla had died of dysentery + when I took his billet. Then it was too late. I'd signed the contract.” + </p> + <p> + “Besides,” said Mr. Jacobs, “there's altogether too many accidental + drownings anyway. It don't look right. It's the fault of the government. A + white man hasn't a chance to defend himself from the niggers.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, look at the Princess and that Yankee mate,” the skipper took up the + tale. “She carried five white men besides a government agent. The captain, + the agent, and the supercargo were ashore in the two boats. They were + killed to the last man. The mate and boson, with about fifteen of the crew—Samoans + and Tongans—were on board. A crowd of niggers came off from shore. + First thing the mate knew, the boson and the crew were killed in the first + rush. The mate grabbed three cartridge belts and two Winchesters and + skinned up to the cross-trees. He was the sole survivor, and you can't + blame him for being mad. He pumped one rifle till it got so hot he + couldn't hold it, then he pumped the other. The deck was black with + niggers. He cleaned them out. He dropped them as they went over the rail, + and he dropped them as fast as they picked up their paddles. Then they + jumped into the water and started to swim for it, and being mad, he got + half a dozen more. And what did he get for it?” + </p> + <p> + “Seven years in Fiji,” snapped the mate. + </p> + <p> + “The government said he wasn't justified in shooting after they'd taken to + the water,” the skipper explained. + </p> + <p> + “And that's why they die of dysentery nowadays,” the mate added. + </p> + <p> + “Just fancy,” said Bertie, as he felt a longing for the cruise to be over. + </p> + <p> + Later on in the day he interviewed the black who had been pointed out to + him as a cannibal. This fellow's name was Sumasai. He had spent three + years on a Queensland plantation. He had been to Samoa, and Fiji, and + Sydney; and as a boat's crew had been on recruiting schooners through New + Britain, New Ireland, New Guinea, and the Admiralties. Also, he was a wag, + and he had taken a line on his skipper's conduct. Yes, he had eaten many + men. How many? He could not remember the tally. Yes, white men, too; they + were very good, unless they were sick. He had once eaten a sick one. + </p> + <p> + “My word!” he cried, at the recollection. “Me sick plenty along him. My + belly walk about too much.” + </p> + <p> + Bertie shuddered, and asked about heads. Yes, Sumasai had several hidden + ashore, in good condition, sun-dried, and smoke-cured. One was of the + captain of a schooner. It had long whiskers. He would sell it for two + quid. Black men's heads he would sell for one quid. He had some pickaninny + heads, in poor condition, that he would let go for ten bob. + </p> + <p> + Five minutes afterward, Bertie found himself sitting on the + companionway-slide alongside a black with a horrible skin disease. He + sheered off, and on inquiry was told that it was leprosy. He hurried below + and washed himself with antiseptic soap. He took many antiseptic washes in + the course of the day, for every native on board was afflicted with + malignant ulcers of one sort or another. + </p> + <p> + As the Arla drew in to an anchorage in the midst of mangrove swamps, a + double row of barbed wire was stretched around above her rail. That looked + like business, and when Bertie saw the shore canoes alongside, armed with + spears, bows and arrows, and Sniders, he wished more earnestly than ever + that the cruise was over. + </p> + <p> + That evening the natives were slow in leaving the ship at sundown. A + number of them checked the mate when he ordered them ashore. “Never mind, + I'll fix them,” said Captain Hansen, diving below. + </p> + <p> + When he came back, he showed Bertie a stick of dynamite attached to a fish + hook. Now it happens that a paper-wrapped bottle of chlorodyne with a + piece of harmless fuse projecting can fool anybody. It fooled Bertie, and + it fooled the natives. When Captain Hansen lighted the fuse and hooked the + fish hook into the tail end of a native's loin cloth, that native was + smitten with so an ardent a desire for the shore that he forgot to shed + the loin cloth. He started for'ard, the fuse sizzling and spluttering at + his rear, the natives in his path taking headers over the barbed wire at + every jump. Bertie was horror-stricken. So was Captain Hansen. He had + forgotten his twenty-five recruits, on each of which he had paid thirty + shillings advance. They went over the side along with the shore-dwelling + folk and followed by him who trailed the sizzling chlorodyne bottle. + </p> + <p> + Bertie did not see the bottle go off; but the mate opportunely discharging + a stick of real dynamite aft where it would harm nobody, Bertie would have + sworn in any admiralty court to a nigger blown to flinders. The flight of + the twenty-five recruits had actually cost the Arla forty pounds, and, + since they had taken to the bush, there was no hope of recovering them. + The skipper and his mate proceeded to drown their sorrow in cold tea. + </p> + <p> + The cold tea was in whiskey bottles, so Bertie did not know it was cold + tea they were mopping up. All he knew was that the two men got very drunk + and argued eloquently and at length as to whether the exploded nigger + should be reported as a case of dysentery or as an accidental drowning. + When they snored off to sleep, he was the only white man left, and he kept + a perilous watch till dawn, in fear of an attack from shore and an + uprising of the crew. + </p> + <p> + Three more days the Arla spent on the coast, and three more nights the + skipper and the mate drank overfondly of cold tea, leaving Bertie to keep + the watch. They knew he could be depended upon, while he was equally + certain that if he lived, he would report their drunken conduct to Captain + Malu. Then the Arla dropped anchor at Reminge Plantation, on Guadalcanar, + and Bertie landed on the beach with a sigh of relief and shook hands with + the manager. Mr. Harriwell was ready for him. + </p> + <p> + “Now you mustn't be alarmed if some of our fellows seem downcast,” Mr. + Harriwell said, having drawn him aside in confidence. “There's been talk + of an outbreak, and two or three suspicious signs I'm willing to admit, + but personally I think it's all poppycock.” + </p> + <p> + “How—how many blacks have you on the plantation?” Bertie asked, with + a sinking heart. + </p> + <p> + “We're working four hundred just now,” replied Mr. Harriwell, cheerfully; + “but the three of us, with you, of course, and the skipper and mate of the + Arla, can handle them all right.” + </p> + <p> + Bertie turned to meet one McTavish, the storekeeper, who scarcely + acknowledged the introduction, such was his eagerness to present his + resignation. + </p> + <p> + “It being that I'm a married man, Mr. Harriwell, I can't very well afford + to remain on longer. Trouble is working up, as plain as the nose on your + face. The niggers are going to break out, and there'll be another Hohono + horror here.” + </p> + <p> + “What's a Hohono horror?” Bertie asked, after the storekeeper had been + persuaded to remain until the end of the month. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he means Hohono Plantation, on Ysabel,” said the manager. “The + niggers killed the five white men ashore, captured the schooner, killed + the captain and mate, and escaped in a body to Malaita. But I always said + they were careless on Hohono. They won't catch us napping here. Come + along, Mr. Arkwright, and see our view from the veranda.” + </p> + <p> + Bertie was too busy wondering how he could get away to Tulagi to the + Commissioner's house, to see much of the view. He was still wondering, + when a rifle exploded very near to him, behind his back. At the same + moment his arm was nearly dislocated, so eagerly did Mr. Harriwell drag + him indoors. + </p> + <p> + “I say, old man, that was a close shave,” said the manager, pawing him + over to see if he had been hit. “I can't tell you how sorry I am. But it + was broad daylight, and I never dreamed.” + </p> + <p> + Bertie was beginning to turn pale. + </p> + <p> + “They got the other manager that way,” McTavish vouchsafed. “And a dashed + fine chap he was. Blew his brains out all over the veranda. You noticed + that dark stain there between the steps and the door?” + </p> + <p> + Bertie was ripe for the cocktail which Mr. Harriwell pitched in and + compounded for him; but before he could drink it, a man in riding trousers + and puttees entered. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter now?” the manager asked, after one look at the + newcomer's face. “Is the river up again?” + </p> + <p> + “River be blowed—it's the niggers. Stepped out of the cane grass, + not a dozen feet away, and whopped at me. It was a Snider, and he shot + from the hip. Now what I want to know is where'd he get that Snider?—Oh, + I beg pardon. Glad to know you, Mr. Arkwright.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Brown is my assistant,” explained Mr. Harriwell. “And now let's have + that drink.” + </p> + <p> + “But where'd he get that Snider?” Mr. Brown insisted. “I always objected + to keeping those guns on the premises.” + </p> + <p> + “They're still there,” Mr. Harriwell said, with a show of heat. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Brown smiled incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “Come along and see,” said the manager. + </p> + <p> + Bertie joined the procession into the office, where Mr. Harriwell pointed + triumphantly at a big packing case in a dusty corner. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then where did the beggar get that Snider?” harped Mr. Brown. + </p> + <p> + But just then McTavish lifted the packing case. The manager started, then + tore off the lid. The case was empty. They gazed at one another in + horrified silence. Harriwell drooped wearily. + </p> + <p> + Then McVeigh cursed. + </p> + <p> + “What I contended all along—the house-boys are not to be trusted.” + </p> + <p> + “It does look serious,” Harriwell admitted, “but we'll come through it all + right. What the sanguinary niggers need is a shaking up. Will you + gentlemen please bring your rifles to dinner, and will you, Mr. Brown, + kindly prepare forty or fifty sticks of dynamite. Make the fuses good and + short. We'll give them a lesson. And now, gentlemen, dinner is served.” + </p> + <p> + One thing that Bertie detested was rice and curry, so it happened that he + alone partook of an inviting omelet. He had quite finished his plate, when + Harriwell helped himself to the omelet. One mouthful he tasted, then spat + out vociferously. + </p> + <p> + “That's the second time,” McTavish announced ominously. + </p> + <p> + Harriwell was still hawking and spitting. + </p> + <p> + “Second time, what?” Bertie quavered. + </p> + <p> + “Poison,” was the answer. “That cook will be hanged yet.” + </p> + <p> + “That's the way the bookkeeper went out at Cape March,” Brown spoke up. + “Died horribly. They said on the Jessie that they heard him screaming + three miles away.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll put the cook in irons,” sputtered Harriwell. “Fortunately we + discovered it in time.” + </p> + <p> + Bertie sat paralyzed. There was no color in his face. He attempted to + speak, but only an inarticulate gurgle resulted. All eyed him anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “Don't say it, don't say it,” McTavish cried in a tense voice. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I ate it, plenty of it, a whole plateful!” Bertie cried explosively, + like a diver suddenly regaining breath. + </p> + <p> + The awful silence continued half a minute longer, and he read his fate in + their eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Maybe it wasn't poison after all,” said Harriwell, dismally. + </p> + <p> + “Call in the cook,” said Brown. + </p> + <p> + In came the cook, a grinning black boy, nose-spiked and ear-plugged. + </p> + <p> + “Here, you, Wi-wi, what name that?” Harriwell bellowed, pointing + accusingly at the omelet. + </p> + <p> + Wi-wi was very naturally frightened and embarrassed. + </p> + <p> + “Him good fella kai-kai,” he murmured apologetically. + </p> + <p> + “Make him eat it,” suggested McTavish. “That's a proper test.” + </p> + <p> + Harriwell filled a spoon with the stuff and jumped for the cook, who fled + in panic. + </p> + <p> + “That settles it,” was Brown's solemn pronouncement. “He won't eat it.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Brown, will you please go and put the irons on him?” Harriwell turned + cheerfully to Bertie. “It's all right, old man, the Commissioner will deal + with him, and if you die, depend upon it, he will be hanged.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't think the government'll do it,” objected McTavish. + </p> + <p> + “But gentlemen, gentlemen,” Bertie cried. “In the meantime think of me.” + </p> + <p> + Harriwell shrugged his shoulders pityingly. + </p> + <p> + “Sorry, old man, but it's a native poison, and there are no known + antidotes for native poisons. Try and compose yourself and if—” + </p> + <p> + Two sharp reports of a rifle from without, interrupted the discourse, and + Brown, entering, reloaded his rifle and sat down to table. + </p> + <p> + “The cook's dead,” he said. “Fever. A rather sudden attack.” + </p> + <p> + “I was just telling Mr. Arkwright that there are no antidotes for native + poisons—” + </p> + <p> + “Except gin,” said Brown. + </p> + <p> + Harriwell called himself an absent-minded idiot and rushed for the gin + bottle. + </p> + <p> + “Neat, man, neat,” he warned Bertie, who gulped down a tumbler two-thirds + full of the raw spirits, and coughed and choked from the angry bite of it + till the tears ran down his cheeks. + </p> + <p> + Harriwell took his pulse and temperature, made a show of looking out for + him, and doubted that the omelet had been poisoned. Brown and McTavish + also doubted; but Bertie discerned an insincere ring in their voices. His + appetite had left him, and he took his own pulse stealthily under the + table. There was no question but what it was increasing, but he failed to + ascribe it to the gin he had taken. McTavish, rifle in hand, went out on + the veranda to reconnoiter. + </p> + <p> + “They're massing up at the cook-house,” was his report. “And they've no + end of Sniders. My idea is to sneak around on the other side and take them + in flank. Strike the first blow, you know. Will you come along, Brown?” + </p> + <p> + Harriwell ate on steadily, while Bertie discovered that his pulse had + leaped up five beats. Nevertheless, he could not help jumping when the + rifles began to go off. Above the scattering of Sniders could be heard the + pumping of Brown's and McTavish's Winchesters—all against a + background of demoniacal screeching and yelling. + </p> + <p> + “They've got them on the run,” Harriwell remarked, as voices and gunshots + faded away in the distance. + </p> + <p> + Scarcely were Brown and McTavish back at the table when the latter + reconnoitered. + </p> + <p> + “They've got dynamite,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Then let's charge them with dynamite,” Harriwell proposed. + </p> + <p> + Thrusting half a dozen sticks each into their pockets and equipping + themselves with lighted cigars, they started for the door. And just then + it happened. They blamed McTavish for it afterward, and he admitted that + the charge had been a trifle excessive. But at any rate it went off under + the house, which lifted up cornerwise and settled back on its foundations. + Half the china on the table was shattered, while the eight-day clock + stopped. Yelling for vengeance, the three men rushed out into the night, + and the bombardment began. + </p> + <p> + When they returned, there was no Bertie. He had dragged himself away to + the office, barricaded himself in, and sunk upon the floor in a gin-soaked + nightmare, wherein he died a thousand deaths while the valorous fight went + on around him. In the morning, sick and headachey from the gin, he crawled + out to find the sun still in the sky and God presumable in heaven, for his + hosts were alive and uninjured. + </p> + <p> + Harriwell pressed him to stay on longer, but Bertie insisted on sailing + immediately on the Arla for Tulagi, where, until the following steamer + day, he stuck close by the Commissioner's house. There were lady tourists + on the outgoing steamer, and Bertie was again a hero, while Captain Malu, + as usual, passed unnoticed. But Captain Malu sent back from Sydney two + cases of the best Scotch whiskey on the market, for he was not able to + make up his mind as to whether it was Captain Hansen or Mr Harriwell who + had given Bertie Arkwright the more gorgeous insight into life in the + Solomons. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE INEVITABLE WHITE MAN + </h2> + <p> + “The black will never understand the white, nor the white the black, as + long as black is black and white is white.” + </p> + <p> + So said Captain Woodward. We sat in the parlor of Charley Roberts' pub in + Apia, drinking long Abu Hameds compounded and shared with us by the + aforesaid Charley Roberts, who claimed the recipe direct from Stevens, + famous for having invented the Abu Hamed at a time when he was spurred on + by Nile thirst—the Stevens who was responsible for “With Kitchener + to Kartoun,” and who passed out at the siege of Ladysmith. + </p> + <p> + Captain Woodward, short and squat, elderly, burned by forty years of + tropic sun, and with the most beautiful liquid brown eyes I ever saw in a + man, spoke from a vast experience. The crisscross of scars on his bald + pate bespoke a tomahawk intimacy with the black, and of equal intimacy was + the advertisement, front and rear, on the right side of his neck, where an + arrow had at one time entered and been pulled clean through. As he + explained, he had been in a hurry on that occasion—the arrow impeded + his running—and he felt that he could not take the time to break off + the head and pull out the shaft the way it had come in. At the present + moment he was commander of the SAVAII, the big steamer that recruited + labor from the westward for the German plantations on Samoa. + </p> + <p> + “Half the trouble is the stupidity of the whites,” said Roberts, pausing + to take a swig from his glass and to curse the Samoan bar-boy in + affectionate terms. “If the white man would lay himself out a bit to + understand the workings of the black man's mind, most of the messes would + be avoided.” + </p> + <p> + “I've seen a few who claimed they understood niggers,” Captain Woodward + retorted, “and I always took notice that they were the first to be + kai-kai'd (eaten). Look at the missionaries in New Guinea and the New + Hebrides—the martyr isle of Erromanga and all the rest. Look at the + Austrian expedition that was cut to pieces in the Solomons, in the bush of + Guadalcanar. And look at the traders themselves, with a score of years' + experience, making their brag that no nigger would ever get them, and + whose heads to this day are ornamenting the rafters of the canoe houses. + There was old Johnny Simons—twenty-six years on the raw edges of + Melanesia, swore he knew the niggers like a book and that they'd never do + for him, and he passed out at Marovo Lagoon, New Georgia, had his head + sawed off by a black Mary (woman) and an old nigger with only one leg, + having left the other leg in the mouth of a shark while diving for + dynamited fish. There was Billy Watts, horrible reputation as a nigger + killer, a man to scare the devil. I remember lying at Cape Little, New + Ireland you know, when the niggers stole half a case of trade-tobacco—cost + him about three dollars and a half. In retaliation he turned out, shot six + niggers, smashed up their war canoes and burned two villages. And it was + at Cape Little, four years afterward, that he was jumped along with fifty + Buku boys he had with him fishing bêche-de-mer. In five minutes they were + all dead, with the exception of three boys who got away in a canoe. Don't + talk to me about understanding the nigger. The white man's mission is to + farm the world, and it's a big enough job cut out for him. What time has + he got left to understand niggers anyway?” + </p> + <p> + “Just so,” said Roberts. “And somehow it doesn't seem necessary, after + all, to understand the niggers. In direct proportion to the white man's + stupidity is his success in farming the world—” + </p> + <p> + “And putting the fear of God into the nigger's heart,” Captain Woodward + blurted out. “Perhaps you're right, Roberts. Perhaps it's his stupidity + that makes him succeed, and surely one phase of his stupidity is his + inability to understand the niggers. But there's one thing sure, the white + has to run the niggers whether he understands them or not. It's + inevitable. It's fate.” + </p> + <p> + “And of course the white man is inevitable—it's the niggers' fate,” + Roberts broke in. “Tell the white man there's pearl shell in some lagoon + infested by ten-thousand howling cannibals, and he'll head there all by + his lonely, with half a dozen kanaka divers and a tin alarm clock for + chronometer, all packed like sardines on a commodious, five-ton ketch. + Whisper that there's a gold strike at the North Pole, and that same + inevitable white-skinned creature will set out at once, armed with pick + and shovel, a side of bacon, and the latest patent rocker—and what's + more, he'll get there. Tip it off to him that there's diamonds on the + red-hot ramparts of hell, and Mr. White Man will storm the ramparts and + set old Satan himself to pick-and-shovel work. That's what comes of being + stupid and inevitable.” + </p> + <p> + “But I wonder what the black man must think of the—the + inevitableness,” I said. + </p> + <p> + Captain Woodward broke into quiet laughter. His eyes had a reminiscent + gleam. + </p> + <p> + “I'm just wondering what the niggers of Malu thought and still must be + thinking of the one inevitable white man we had on board when we visited + them in the DUCHESS,” he explained. + </p> + <p> + Roberts mixed three more Abu Hameds. + </p> + <p> + “That was twenty years ago. Saxtorph was his name. He was certainly the + most stupid man I ever saw, but he was as inevitable as death. There was + only one thing that chap could do, and that was shoot. I remember the + first time I ran into him—right here in Apia, twenty years ago. That + was before your time, Roberts. I was sleeping at Dutch Henry's hotel, down + where the market is now. Ever heard of him? He made a tidy stake smuggling + arms in to the rebels, sold out his hotel, and was killed in Sydney just + six weeks afterward in a saloon row. + </p> + <p> + “But Saxtorph. One night I'd just got to sleep, when a couple of cats + began to sing in the courtyard. It was out of bed and up window, water jug + in hand. But just then I heard the window of the next room go up. Two + shots were fired, and the window was closed. I fail to impress you with + the celerity of the transaction. Ten seconds at the outside. Up went the + window, bang bang went the revolver, and down went the window. Whoever it + was, he had never stopped to see the effect of his shots. He knew. Do you + follow me?—he KNEW. There was no more cat concert, and in the + morning there lay the two offenders, stone dead. It was marvelous to me. + It still is marvelous. First, it was starlight, and Saxtorph shot without + drawing a bead; next, he shot so rapidly that the two reports were like a + double report; and finally, he knew he had hit his marks without looking + to see. + </p> + <p> + “Two days afterward he came on board to see me. I was mate, then, on the + Duchess, a whacking big one-hundred-and fifty-ton schooner, a blackbirder. + And let me tell you that blackbirders were blackbirders in those days. + There weren't any government protection for US, either. It was rough work, + give and take, if we were finished, and nothing said, and we ran niggers + from every south sea island they didn't kick us off from. Well, Saxtorph + came on board, John Saxtorph was the name he gave. He was a sandy little + man, hair sandy, complexion sandy, and eyes sandy, too. Nothing striking + about him. His soul was as neutral as his color scheme. He said he was + strapped and wanted to ship on board. Would go cabin boy, cook, + supercargo, or common sailor. Didn't know anything about any of the + billets, but said that he was willing to learn. I didn't want him, but his + shooting had so impressed me that I took him as common sailor, wages three + pounds per month. + </p> + <p> + “He was willing to learn all right, I'll say that much. But he was + constitutionally unable to learn anything. He could no more box the + compass than I could mix drinks like Roberts here. And as for steering, he + gave me my first gray hairs. I never dared risk him at the wheel when we + were running in a big sea, while full-and-by and close-and-by were + insoluble mysteries. Couldn't ever tell the difference between a sheet and + a tackle, simply couldn't. The fore-throat-jig and the jib-jig were all + one to him. Tell him to slack off the mainsheet, and before you know it, + he'd drop the peak. He fell overboard three times, and he couldn't swim. + But he was always cheerful, never seasick, and he was the most willing man + I ever knew. He was an uncommunicative soul. Never talked about himself. + His history, so far as we were concerned, began the day he signed on the + DUCHESS. Where he learned to shoot, the stars alone can tell. He was a + Yankee—that much we knew from the twang in his speech. And that was + all we ever did know. + </p> + <p> + “And now we begin to get to the point. We had bad luck in the New + Hebrides, only fourteen boys for five weeks, and we ran up before the + southeast for the Solomons. Malaita, then as now, was good recruiting + ground, and we ran into Malu, on the northwestern corner. There's a shore + reef and an outer reef, and a mighty nervous anchorage; but we made it all + right and fired off our dynamite as a signal to the niggers to come down + and be recruited. In three days we got not a boy. The niggers came off to + us in their canoes by hundreds, but they only laughed when we showed them + beads and calico and hatchets and talked of the delights of plantation + work in Samoa. + </p> + <p> + “On the fourth day there came a change. Fifty-odd boys signed on and were + billeted in the main-hold, with the freedom of the deck, of course. And of + course, looking back, this wholesale signing on was suspicious, but at the + time we thought some powerful chief had removed the ban against + recruiting. The morning of the fifth day our two boats went ashore as + usual—one to cover the other, you know, in case of trouble. And, as + usual, the fifty niggers on board were on deck, loafing, talking, smoking, + and sleeping. Saxtorph and myself, along with four other sailors, were all + that were left on board. The two boats were manned with Gilbert Islanders. + In the one were the captain, the supercargo, and the recruiter. In the + other, which was the covering boat and which lay off shore a hundred + yards, was the second mate. Both boats were well-armed, though trouble was + little expected. + </p> + <p> + “Four of the sailors, including Saxtorph, were scraping the poop rail. The + fifth sailor, rifle in hand, was standing guard by the water-tank just + for'ard of the mainmast. I was for'ard, putting in the finishing licks on + a new jaw for the fore-gaff. I was just reaching for my pipe where I had + laid it down, when I heard a shot from shore. I straightened up to look. + Something struck me on the back of the head, partially stunning me and + knocking me to the deck. My first thought was that something had carried + away aloft; but even as I went down, and before I struck the deck, I heard + the devil's own tattoo of rifles from the boats, and twisting sidewise, I + caught a glimpse of the sailor who was standing guard. Two big niggers + were holding his arms, and a third nigger from behind was braining him + with a tomahawk. + </p> + <p> + “I can see it now, the water-tank, the mainmast, the gang hanging on to + him, the hatchet descending on the back of his head, and all under the + blazing sunlight. I was fascinated by that growing vision of death. The + tomahawk seemed to take a horribly long time to come down. I saw it land, + and the man's legs give under him as he crumpled. The niggers held him up + by sheer strength while he was hacked a couple of times more. Then I got + two more hacks on the head and decided that I was dead. So did the brute + that was hacking me. I was too helpless to move, and I lay there and + watched them removing the sentry's head. I must say they did it slick + enough. They were old hands at the business. + </p> + <p> + “The rifle firing from the boats had ceased, and I made no doubt that they + were finished off and that the end had come to everything. It was only a + matter of moments when they would return for my head. They were evidently + taking the heads from the sailors aft. Heads are valuable on Malaita, + especially white heads. They have the place of honor in the canoe houses + of the salt-water natives. What particular decorative effect the bushmen + get out of them I didn't know, but they prize them just as much as the + salt-water crowd. + </p> + <p> + “I had a dim notion of escaping, and I crawled on hands and knees to the + winch, where I managed to drag myself to my feet. From there I could look + aft and see three heads on top the cabin—the heads of three sailors + I had given orders to for months. The niggers saw me standing, and started + for me. I reached for my revolver, and found they had taken it. I can't + say that I was scared. I've been near to death several times, but it never + seemed easier than right then. I was half-stunned, and nothing seemed to + matter. + </p> + <p> + “The leading nigger had armed himself with a cleaver from the galley, and + he grimaced like an ape as he prepared to slice me down. But the slice was + never made. He went down on the deck all of a heap, and I saw the blood + gush from his mouth. In a dim way I heard a rifle go off and continue to + go off. Nigger after nigger went down. My senses began to clear, and I + noted that there was never a miss. Every time that the rifle went off a + nigger dropped. I sat down on deck beside the winch and looked up. Perched + in the crosstrees was Saxtorph. How he had managed it I can't imagine, for + he had carried up with him two Winchesters and I don't know how many + bandoliers of ammunition; and he was now doing the one only thing in this + world that he was fitted to do. + </p> + <p> + “I've seen shooting and slaughter, but I never saw anything like that. I + sat by the winch and watched the show. I was weak and faint, and it seemed + to be all a dream. Bang, bang, bang, bang, went his rifle, and thud, thud, + thud, thud, went the niggers to the deck. It was amazing to see them go + down. After their first rush to get me, when about a dozen had dropped, + they seemed paralyzed; but he never left off pumping his gun. By this time + canoes and the two boats arrived from shore, armed with Sniders, and with + Winchesters which they had captured in the boats. The fusillade they let + loose on Saxtorph was tremendous. Luckily for him the niggers are only + good at close range. They are not used to putting the gun to their + shoulders. They wait until they are right on top of a man, and then they + shoot from the hip. When his rifle got too hot, Saxtorph changed off. That + had been his idea when he carried two rifles up with him. + </p> + <p> + “The astounding thing was the rapidity of his fire. Also, he never made a + miss. If ever anything was inevitable, that man was. It was the swiftness + of it that made the slaughter so appalling. The niggers did not have time + to think. When they did manage to think, they went over the side in a + rush, capsizing the canoes of course. Saxtorph never let up. The water was + covered with them, and plump, plump, plump, he dropped his bullets into + them. Not a single miss, and I could hear distinctly the thud of every + bullet as it buried in human flesh. + </p> + <p> + “The niggers spread out and headed for the shore, swimming. The water was + carpeted with bobbing heads, and I stood up, as in a dream, and watched it + all—the bobbing heads and the heads that ceased to bob. Some of the + long shots were magnificent. Only one man reached the beach, but as he + stood up to wade ashore, Saxtorph got him. It was beautiful. And when a + couple of niggers ran down to drag him out of the water, Saxtorph got + them, too. + </p> + <p> + “I thought everything was over then, when I heard the rifle go off again. + A nigger had come out of the cabin companion on the run for the rail and + gone down in the middle of it. The cabin must have been full of them. I + counted twenty. They came up one at a time and jumped for the rail. But + they never got there. It reminded me of trapshooting. A black body would + pop out of the companion, bang would go Saxtorph's rifle, and down would + go the black body. Of course, those below did not know what was happening + on deck, so they continued to pop out until the last one was finished off. + </p> + <p> + “Saxtorph waited a while to make sure, and then came down on deck. He and + I were all that were left of the DUCHESS'S complement, and I was pretty + well to the bad, while he was helpless now that the shooting was over. + Under my direction he washed out my scalp wounds and sewed them up. A big + drink of whiskey braced me to make an effort to get out. There was nothing + else to do. All the rest were dead. We tried to get up sail, Saxtorph + hoisting and I holding the turn. He was once more the stupid lubber. He + couldn't hoist worth a cent, and when I fell in a faint, it looked all up + with us. + </p> + <p> + “When I came to, Saxtorph was sitting helplessly on the rail, waiting to + ask me what he should do. I told him to overhaul the wounded and see if + there were any able to crawl. He gathered together six. One, I remember, + had a broken leg; but Saxtorph said his arms were all right. I lay in the + shade, brushing the flies off and directing operations, while Saxtorph + bossed his hospital gang. I'll be blessed if he didn't make those poor + niggers heave at every rope on the pin-rails before he found the halyards. + One of them let go the rope in the midst of the hoisting and slipped down + to the deck dead; but Saxtorph hammered the others and made them stick by + the job. When the fore and main were up, I told him to knock the shackle + out of the anchor chain and let her go. I had had myself helped aft to the + wheel, where I was going to make a shift at steering. I can't guess how he + did it, but instead of knocking the shackle out, down went the second + anchor, and there we were doubly moored. + </p> + <p> + “In the end he managed to knock both shackles out and raise the staysail + and jib, and the Duchess filled away for the entrance. Our decks were a + spectacle. Dead and dying niggers were everywhere. They were wedged away + some of them in the most inconceivable places. The cabin was full of them + where they had crawled off the deck and cashed in. I put Saxtorph and his + graveyard gang to work heaving them overside, and over they went, the + living and the dead. The sharks had fat pickings that day. Of course our + four murdered sailors went the same way. Their heads, however, we put in a + sack with weights, so that by no chance should they drift on the beach and + fall into the hands of the niggers. + </p> + <p> + “Our five prisoners I decided to use as crew, but they decided otherwise. + They watched their opportunity and went over the side. Saxtorph got two in + mid-air with his revolver, and would have shot the other three in the + water if I hadn't stopped him. I was sick of the slaughter, you see, and + besides, they'd helped work the schooner out. But it was mercy thrown + away, for the sharks got the three of them. + </p> + <p> + “I had brain fever or something after we got clear of the land. Anyway, + the DUCHESS lay hove to for three weeks, when I pulled myself together and + we jogged on with her to Sydney. Anyway those niggers of Malu learned the + everlasting lesson that it is not good to monkey with a white man. In + their case, Saxtorph was certainly inevitable.” + </p> + <p> + Charley Roberts emitted a long whistle and said: + </p> + <p> + “Well I should say so. But whatever became of Saxtorph?” + </p> + <p> + “He drifted into seal hunting and became a crackerjack. For six years he + was high line of both the Victoria and San Francisco fleets. The seventh + year his schooner was seized in Bering Sea by a Russian cruiser, and all + hands, so the talk went, were slammed into the Siberian salt mines. At + least I've never heard of him since.” + </p> + <p> + “Farming the world,” Roberts muttered. “Farming the world. Well here's to + them. Somebody's got to do it—farm the world, I mean.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Woodward rubbed the criss-crosses on his bald head. + </p> + <p> + “I've done my share of it,” he said. “Forty years now. This will be my + last trip. Then I'm going home to stay.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll wager the wine you don't,” Roberts challenged. “You'll die in the + harness, not at home.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Woodward promptly accepted the bet, but personally I think Charley + Roberts has the best of it. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE SEED OF McCOY + </h2> + <p> + The Pyrenees, her iron sides pressed low in the water by her cargo of + wheat, rolled sluggishly, and made it easy for the man who was climbing + aboard from out a tiny outrigger canoe. As his eyes came level with the + rail, so that he could see inboard, it seemed to him that he saw a dim, + almost indiscernible haze. It was more like an illusion, like a blurring + film that had spread abruptly over his eyes. He felt an inclination to + brush it away, and the same instant he thought that he was growing old and + that it was time to send to San Francisco for a pair of spectacles. + </p> + <p> + As he came over the rail he cast a glance aloft at the tall masts, and, + next, at the pumps. They were not working. There seemed nothing the matter + with the big ship, and he wondered why she had hoisted the signal of + distress. He thought of his happy islanders, and hoped it was not disease. + Perhaps the ship was short of water or provisions. He shook hands with the + captain whose gaunt face and care-worn eyes made no secret of the trouble, + whatever it was. At the same moment the newcomer was aware of a faint, + indefinable smell. It seemed like that of burnt bread, but different. + </p> + <p> + He glanced curiously about him. Twenty feet away a weary-faced sailor was + calking the deck. As his eyes lingered on the man, he saw suddenly arise + from under his hands a faint spiral of haze that curled and twisted and + was gone. By now he had reached the deck. His bare feet were pervaded by a + dull warmth that quickly penetrated the thick calluses. He knew now the + nature of the ship's distress. His eyes roved swiftly forward, where the + full crew of weary-faced sailors regarded him eagerly. The glance from his + liquid brown eyes swept over them like a benediction, soothing them, + rapping them about as in the mantle of a great peace. “How long has she + been afire, Captain?” he asked in a voice so gentle and unperturbed that + it was as the cooing of a dove. + </p> + <p> + At first the captain felt the peace and content of it stealing in upon + him; then the consciousness of all that he had gone through and was going + through smote him, and he was resentful. By what right did this ragged + beachcomber, in dungaree trousers and a cotton shirt, suggest such a thing + as peace and content to him and his overwrought, exhausted soul? The + captain did not reason this; it was the unconscious process of emotion + that caused his resentment. + </p> + <p> + “Fifteen days,” he answered shortly. “Who are you?” + </p> + <p> + “My name is McCoy,” came the answer in tones that breathed tenderness and + compassion. + </p> + <p> + “I mean, are you the pilot?” + </p> + <p> + McCoy passed the benediction of his gaze over the tall, heavy-shouldered + man with the haggard, unshaven face who had joined the captain. + </p> + <p> + “I am as much a pilot as anybody,” was McCoy's answer. “We are all pilots + here, Captain, and I know every inch of these waters.” + </p> + <p> + But the captain was impatient. + </p> + <p> + “What I want is some of the authorities. I want to talk with them, and + blame quick.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I'll do just as well.” + </p> + <p> + Again that insidious suggestion of peace, and his ship a raging furnace + beneath his feet! The captain's eyebrows lifted impatiently and nervously, + and his fist clenched as if he were about to strike a blow with it. + </p> + <p> + “Who in hell are you?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I am the chief magistrate,” was the reply in a voice that was still the + softest and gentlest imaginable. + </p> + <p> + The tall, heavy-shouldered man broke out in a harsh laugh that was partly + amusement, but mostly hysterical. Both he and the captain regarded McCoy + with incredulity and amazement. That this barefooted beachcomber should + possess such high-sounding dignity was inconceivable. His cotton shirt, + unbuttoned, exposed a grizzled chest and the fact that there was no + undershirt beneath. + </p> + <p> + A worn straw hat failed to hide the ragged gray hair. Halfway down his + chest descended an untrimmed patriarchal beard. In any slop shop, two + shillings would have outfitted him complete as he stood before them. + </p> + <p> + “Any relation to the McCoy of the Bounty?” the captain asked. + </p> + <p> + “He was my great-grandfather.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” the captain said, then bethought himself. “My name is Davenport, and + this is my first mate, Mr. Konig.” + </p> + <p> + They shook hands. + </p> + <p> + “And now to business.” The captain spoke quickly, the urgency of a great + haste pressing his speech. “We've been on fire for over two weeks. She's + ready to break all hell loose any moment. That's why I held for Pitcairn. + I want to beach her, or scuttle her, and save the hull.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you made a mistake, Captain,” said McCoy. “You should have slacked + away for Mangareva. There's a beautiful beach there, in a lagoon where the + water is like a mill pond.” + </p> + <p> + “But we're here, ain't we?” the first mate demanded. “That's the point. + We're here, and we've got to do something.” + </p> + <p> + McCoy shook his head kindly. + </p> + <p> + “You can do nothing here. There is no beach. There isn't even anchorage.” + </p> + <p> + “Gammon!” said the mate. “Gammon!” he repeated loudly, as the captain + signaled him to be more soft spoken. “You can't tell me that sort of + stuff. Where d'ye keep your own boats, hey—your schooner, or cutter, + or whatever you have? Hey? Answer me that.” + </p> + <p> + McCoy smiled as gently as he spoke. His smile was a caress, an embrace + that surrounded the tired mate and sought to draw him into the quietude + and rest of McCoy's tranquil soul. + </p> + <p> + “We have no schooner or cutter,” he replied. “And we carry our canoes to + the top of the cliff.” + </p> + <p> + “You've got to show me,” snorted the mate. “How d'ye get around to the + other islands, heh? Tell me that.” + </p> + <p> + “We don't get around. As governor of Pitcairn, I sometimes go. When I was + younger, I was away a great deal—sometimes on the trading schooners, + but mostly on the missionary brig. But she's gone now, and we depend on + passing vessels. Sometimes we have had as high as six calls in one year. + At other times, a year, and even longer, has gone by without one passing + ship. Yours is the first in seven months.” + </p> + <p> + “And you mean to tell me—” the mate began. + </p> + <p> + But Captain Davenport interfered. + </p> + <p> + “Enough of this. We're losing time. What is to be done, Mr. McCoy?” + </p> + <p> + The old man turned his brown eyes, sweet as a woman's, shoreward, and both + captain and mate followed his gaze around from the lonely rock of Pitcairn + to the crew clustering forward and waiting anxiously for the announcement + of a decision. McCoy did not hurry. He thought smoothly and slowly, step + by step, with the certitude of a mind that was never vexed or outraged by + life. + </p> + <p> + “The wind is light now,” he said finally. “There is a heavy current + setting to the westward.” + </p> + <p> + “That's what made us fetch to leeward,” the captain interrupted, desiring + to vindicate his seamanship. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is what fetched you to leeward,” McCoy went on. “Well, you + can't work up against this current today. And if you did, there is no + beach. Your ship will be a total loss.” + </p> + <p> + He paused, and captain and mate looked despair at each other. + </p> + <p> + “But I will tell you what you can do. The breeze will freshen tonight + around midnight—see those tails of clouds and that thickness to + windward, beyond the point there? That's where she'll come from, out of + the southeast, hard. It is three hundred miles to Mangareva. Square away + for it. There is a beautiful bed for your ship there.” + </p> + <p> + The mate shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Come in to the cabin, and we'll look at the chart,” said the captain. + </p> + <p> + McCoy found a stifling, poisonous atmosphere in the pent cabin. Stray + waftures of invisible gases bit his eyes and made them sting. The deck was + hotter, almost unbearably hot to his bare feet. The sweat poured out of + his body. He looked almost with apprehension about him. This malignant, + internal heat was astounding. It was a marvel that the cabin did not burst + into flames. He had a feeling as if of being in a huge bake oven where the + heat might at any moment increase tremendously and shrivel him up like a + blade of grass. + </p> + <p> + As he lifted one foot and rubbed the hot sole against the leg of his + trousers, the mate laughed in a savage, snarling fashion. + </p> + <p> + “The anteroom of hell,” he said. “Hell herself is right down there under + your feet.” + </p> + <p> + “It's hot!” McCoy cried involuntarily, mopping his face with a bandana + handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + “Here's Mangareva,” the captain said, bending over the table and pointing + to a black speck in the midst of the white blankness of the chart. “And + here, in between, is another island. Why not run for that?” + </p> + <p> + McCoy did not look at the chart. + </p> + <p> + “That's Crescent Island,” he answered. “It is uninhabited, and it is only + two or three feet above water. Lagoon, but no entrance. No, Mangareva is + the nearest place for your purpose.” + </p> + <p> + “Mangareva it is, then,” said Captain Davenport, interrupting the mate's + growling objection. “Call the crew aft, Mr. Konig.” + </p> + <p> + The sailors obeyed, shuffling wearily along the deck and painfully + endeavoring to make haste. Exhaustion was evident in every movement. The + cook came out of his galley to hear, and the cabin boy hung about near + him. + </p> + <p> + When Captain Davenport had explained the situation and announced his + intention of running for Mangareva, an uproar broke out. Against a + background of throaty rumbling arose inarticulate cries of rage, with here + and there a distinct curse, or word, or phrase. A shrill Cockney voice + soared and dominated for a moment, crying: “Gawd! After bein' in ell for + fifteen days—an' now e wants us to sail this floatin' ell to sea + again?” + </p> + <p> + The captain could not control them, but McCoy's gentle presence seemed to + rebuke and calm them, and the muttering and cursing died away, until the + full crew, save here and there an anxious face directed at the captain, + yearned dumbly toward the green clad peaks and beetling coast of Pitcairn. + </p> + <p> + Soft as a spring zephyr was the voice of McCoy: + </p> + <p> + “Captain, I thought I heard some of them say they were starving.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” was the answer, “and so we are. I've had a sea biscuit and a + spoonful of salmon in the last two days. We're on whack. You see, when we + discovered the fire, we battened down immediately to suffocate the fire. + And then we found how little food there was in the pantry. But it was too + late. We didn't dare break out the lazarette. Hungry? I'm just as hungry + as they are.” + </p> + <p> + He spoke to the men again, and again the throat rumbling and cursing + arose, their faces convulsed and animal-like with rage. The second and + third mates had joined the captain, standing behind him at the break of + the poop. Their faces were set and expressionless; they seemed bored, more + than anything else, by this mutiny of the crew. Captain Davenport glanced + questioningly at his first mate, and that person merely shrugged his + shoulders in token of his helplessness. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” the captain said to McCoy, “you can't compel sailors to leave + the safe land and go to sea on a burning vessel. She has been their + floating coffin for over two weeks now. They are worked out, and starved + out, and they've got enough of her. We'll beat up for Pitcairn.” + </p> + <p> + But the wind was light, the Pyrenees' bottom was foul, and she could not + beat up against the strong westerly current. At the end of two hours she + had lost three miles. The sailors worked eagerly, as if by main strength + they could compel the PYRENEES against the adverse elements. But steadily, + port tack and starboard tack, she sagged off to the westward. The captain + paced restlessly up and down, pausing occasionally to survey the vagrant + smoke wisps and to trace them back to the portions of the deck from which + they sprang. The carpenter was engaged constantly in attempting to locate + such places, and, when he succeeded, in calking them tighter and tighter. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what do you think?” the captain finally asked McCoy, who was + watching the carpenter with all a child's interest and curiosity in his + eyes. + </p> + <p> + McCoy looked shoreward, where the land was disappearing in the thickening + haze. + </p> + <p> + “I think it would be better to square away for Mangareva. With that breeze + that is coming, you'll be there tomorrow evening.” + </p> + <p> + “But what if the fire breaks out? It is liable to do it any moment.” + </p> + <p> + “Have your boats ready in the falls. The same breeze will carry your boats + to Mangareva if the ship burns out from under.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport debated for a moment, and then McCoy heard the question + he had not wanted to hear, but which he knew was surely coming. + </p> + <p> + “I have no chart of Mangareva. On the general chart it is only a fly + speck. I would not know where to look for the entrance into the lagoon. + Will you come along and pilot her in for me?” + </p> + <p> + McCoy's serenity was unbroken. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Captain,” he said, with the same quiet unconcern with which he would + have accepted an invitation to dinner; “I'll go with you to Mangareva.” + </p> + <p> + Again the crew was called aft, and the captain spoke to them from the + break of the poop. + </p> + <p> + “We've tried to work her up, but you see how we've lost ground. She's + setting off in a two-knot current. This gentleman is the Honorable McCoy, + Chief Magistrate and Governor of Pitcairn Island. He will come along with + us to Mangareva. So you see the situation is not so dangerous. He would + not make such an offer if he thought he was going to lose his life. + Besides, whatever risk there is, if he of his own free will come on board + and take it, we can do no less. What do you say for Mangareva?” + </p> + <p> + This time there was no uproar. McCoy's presence, the surety and calm that + seemed to radiate from him, had had its effect. They conferred with one + another in low voices. There was little urging. They were virtually + unanimous, and they shoved the Cockney out as their spokesman. That worthy + was overwhelmed with consciousness of the heroism of himself and his + mates, and with flashing eyes he cried: + </p> + <p> + “By Gawd! If 'e will, we will!” + </p> + <p> + The crew mumbled its assent and started forward. + </p> + <p> + “One moment, Captain,” McCoy said, as the other was turning to give orders + to the mate. “I must go ashore first.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Konig was thunderstruck, staring at McCoy as if he were a madman. + </p> + <p> + “Go ashore!” the captain cried. “What for? It will take you three hours to + get there in your canoe.” + </p> + <p> + McCoy measured the distance of the land away, and nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is six now. I won't get ashore till nine. The people cannot be + assembled earlier than ten. As the breeze freshens up tonight, you can + begin to work up against it, and pick me up at daylight tomorrow morning.” + </p> + <p> + “In the name of reason and common sense,” the captain burst forth, “what + do you want to assemble the people for? Don't you realize that my ship is + burning beneath me?” + </p> + <p> + McCoy was as placid as a summer sea, and the other's anger produced not + the slightest ripple upon it. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Captain,” he cooed in his dove-like voice. “I do realize that your + ship is burning. That is why I am going with you to Mangareva. But I must + get permission to go with you. It is our custom. It is an important matter + when the governor leaves the island. The people's interests are at stake, + and so they have the right to vote their permission or refusal. But they + will give it, I know that.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Then if you know they will give it, why bother with getting it? Think of + the delay—a whole night.” + </p> + <p> + “It is our custom,” was the imperturbable reply. “Also, I am the governor, + and I must make arrangements for the conduct of the island during my + absence.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is only a twenty-four hour run to Mangareva,” the captain + objected. “Suppose it took you six times that long to return to windward; + that would bring you back by the end of a week.” + </p> + <p> + McCoy smiled his large, benevolent smile. + </p> + <p> + “Very few vessels come to Pitcairn, and when they do, they are usually + from San Francisco or from around the Horn. I shall be fortunate if I get + back in six months. I may be away a year, and I may have to go to San + Francisco in order to find a vessel that will bring me back. My father + once left Pitcairn to be gone three months, and two years passed before he + could get back. Then, too, you are short of food. If you have to take to + the boats, and the weather comes up bad, you may be days in reaching land. + I can bring off two canoe loads of food in the morning. Dried bananas will + be best. As the breeze freshens, you beat up against it. The nearer you + are, the bigger loads I can bring off. Goodby.” + </p> + <p> + He held out his hand. The captain shook it, and was reluctant to let go. + He seemed to cling to it as a drowning sailor clings to a life buoy. + </p> + <p> + “How do I know you will come back in the morning?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that's it!” cried the mate. “How do we know but what he's skinning + out to save his own hide?” + </p> + <p> + McCoy did not speak. He looked at them sweetly and benignantly, and it + seemed to them that they received a message from his tremendous certitude + of soul. + </p> + <p> + The captain released his hand, and, with a last sweeping glance that + embraced the crew in its benediction, McCoy went over the rail and + descended into his canoe. + </p> + <p> + The wind freshened, and the Pyrenees, despite the foulness of her bottom, + won half a dozen miles away from the westerly current. At daylight, with + Pitcairn three miles to windward, Captain Davenport made out two canoes + coming off to him. Again McCoy clambered up the side and dropped over the + rail to the hot deck. He was followed by many packages of dried bananas, + each package wrapped in dry leaves. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Captain,” he said, “swing the yards and drive for dear life. You + see, I am no navigator,” he explained a few minutes later, as he stood by + the captain aft, the latter with gaze wandering from aloft to overside as + he estimated the Pyrenees' speed. “You must fetch her to Mangareva. When + you have picked up the land, then I will pilot her in. What do you think + she is making?” + </p> + <p> + “Eleven,” Captain Davenport answered, with a final glance at the water + rushing past. + </p> + <p> + “Eleven. Let me see, if she keeps up that gait, we'll sight Mangareva + between eight and nine o'clock tomorrow morning. I'll have her on the + beach by ten or by eleven at latest. And then your troubles will be all + over.” + </p> + <p> + It almost seemed to the captain that the blissful moment had already + arrived, such was the persuasive convincingness of McCoy. + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport had been under the fearful strain of navigating his + burning ship for over two weeks, and he was beginning to feel that he had + had enough. + </p> + <p> + A heavier flaw of wind struck the back of his neck and whistled by his + ears. He measured the weight of it, and looked quickly overside. + </p> + <p> + “The wind is making all the time,” he announced. “The old girl's doing + nearer twelve than eleven right now. If this keeps up, we'll be shortening + down tonight.” + </p> + <p> + All day the Pyrenees, carrying her load of living fire, tore across the + foaming sea. By nightfall, royals and topgallantsails were in, and she + flew on into the darkness, with great, crested seas roaring after her. The + auspicious wind had had its effect, and fore and aft a visible brightening + was apparent. In the second dog-watch some careless soul started a song, + and by eight bells the whole crew was singing. + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport had his blankets brought up and spread on top the house. + </p> + <p> + “I've forgotten what sleep is,” he explained to McCoy. “I'm all in. But + give me a call at any time you think necessary.” + </p> + <p> + At three in the morning he was aroused by a gentle tugging at his arm. He + sat up quickly, bracing himself against the skylight, stupid yet from his + heavy sleep. The wind was thrumming its war song in the rigging, and a + wild sea was buffeting the PYRENEES. Amidships she was wallowing first one + rail under and then the other, flooding the waist more often than not. + McCoy was shouting something he could not hear. He reached out, clutched + the other by the shoulder, and drew him close so that his own ear was + close to the other's lips. + </p> + <p> + “It's three o'clock,” came McCoy's voice, still retaining its dovelike + quality, but curiously muffled, as if from a long way off. “We've run two + hundred and fifty. Crescent Island is only thirty miles away, somewhere + there dead ahead. There's no lights on it. If we keep running, we'll pile + up, and lose ourselves as well as the ship.” + </p> + <p> + “What d' ye think—heave to?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; heave to till daylight. It will only put us back four hours.” + </p> + <p> + So the Pyrenees, with her cargo of fire, was hove to, bitting the teeth of + the gale and fighting and smashing the pounding seas. She was a shell, + filled with a conflagration, and on the outside of the shell, clinging + precariously, the little motes of men, by pull and haul, helped her in the + battle. + </p> + <p> + “It is most unusual, this gale,” McCoy told the captain, in the lee of the + cabin. “By rights there should be no gale at this time of the year. But + everything about the weather has been unusual. There has been a stoppage + of the trades, and now it's howling right out of the trade quarter.” He + waved his hand into the darkness, as if his vision could dimly penetrate + for hundreds of miles. “It is off to the westward. There is something big + making off there somewhere—a hurricane or something. We're lucky to + be so far to the eastward. But this is only a little blow,” he added. “It + can't last. I can tell you that much.” + </p> + <p> + By daylight the gale had eased down to normal. But daylight revealed a new + danger. It had come on thick. The sea was covered by a fog, or, rather, by + a pearly mist that was fog-like in density, in so far as it obstructed + vision, but that was no more than a film on the sea, for the sun shot it + through and filled it with a glowing radiance. + </p> + <p> + The deck of the Pyrenees was making more smoke than on the preceding day, + and the cheerfulness of officers and crew had vanished. In the lee of the + galley the cabin boy could be heard whimpering. It was his first voyage, + and the fear of death was at his heart. The captain wandered about like a + lost soul, nervously chewing his mustache, scowling, unable to make up his + mind what to do. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think?” he asked, pausing by the side of McCoy, who was + making a breakfast off fried bananas and a mug of water. + </p> + <p> + McCoy finished the last banana, drained the mug, and looked slowly around. + In his eyes was a smile of tenderness as he said: + </p> + <p> + “Well, Captain, we might as well drive as burn. Your decks are not going + to hold out forever. They are hotter this morning. You haven't a pair of + shoes I can wear? It is getting uncomfortable for my bare feet.” + </p> + <p> + The Pyrenees shipped two heavy seas as she was swung off and put once more + before it, and the first mate expressed a desire to have all that water + down in the hold, if only it could be introduced without taking off the + hatches. McCoy ducked his head into the binnacle and watched the course + set. + </p> + <p> + “I'd hold her up some more, Captain,” he said. “She's been making drift + when hove to.” + </p> + <p> + “I've set it to a point higher already,” was the answer. “Isn't that + enough?” + </p> + <p> + “I'd make it two points, Captain. This bit of a blow kicked that westerly + current ahead faster than you imagine.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport compromised on a point and a half, and then went aloft, + accompanied by McCoy and the first mate, to keep a lookout for land. Sail + had been made, so that the Pyrenees was doing ten knots. The following sea + was dying down rapidly. There was no break in the pearly fog, and by ten + o'clock Captain Davenport was growing nervous. All hands were at their + stations, ready, at the first warning of land ahead, to spring like fiends + to the task of bringing the Pyrenees up on the wind. That land ahead, a + surf-washed outer reef, would be perilously close when it revealed itself + in such a fog. + </p> + <p> + Another hour passed. The three watchers aloft stared intently into the + pearly radiance. “What if we miss Mangareva?” Captain Davenport asked + abruptly. + </p> + <p> + McCoy, without shifting his gaze, answered softly: + </p> + <p> + “Why, let her drive, captain. That is all we can do. All the Paumotus are + before us. We can drive for a thousand miles through reefs and atolls. We + are bound to fetch up somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “Then drive it is.” Captain Davenport evidenced his intention of + descending to the deck. “We've missed Mangareva. God knows where the next + land is. I wish I'd held her up that other half-point,” he confessed a + moment later. “This cursed current plays the devil with a navigator.” + </p> + <p> + “The old navigators called the Paumotus the Dangerous Archipelago,” McCoy + said, when they had regained the poop. “This very current was partly + responsible for that name.” + </p> + <p> + “I was talking with a sailor chap in Sydney, once,” said Mr. Konig. “He'd + been trading in the Paumotus. He told me insurance was eighteen per cent. + Is that right?” + </p> + <p> + McCoy smiled and nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Except that they don't insure,” he explained. “The owners write off + twenty per cent of the cost of their schooners each year.” + </p> + <p> + “My God!” Captain Davenport groaned. “That makes the life of a schooner + only five years!” He shook his head sadly, murmuring, “Bad waters! Bad + waters!” + </p> + <p> + Again they went into the cabin to consult the big general chart; but the + poisonous vapors drove them coughing and gasping on deck. + </p> + <p> + “Here is Moerenhout Island,” Captain Davenport pointed it out on the + chart, which he had spread on the house. “It can't be more than a hundred + miles to leeward.” + </p> + <p> + “A hundred and ten.” McCoy shook his head doubtfully. “It might be done, + but it is very difficult. I might beach her, and then again I might put + her on the reef. A bad place, a very bad place.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll take the chance,” was Captain Davenport's decision, as he set about + working out the course. + </p> + <p> + Sail was shortened early in the afternoon, to avoid running past in the + night; and in the second dog-watch the crew manifested its regained + cheerfulness. Land was so very near, and their troubles would be over in + the morning. + </p> + <p> + But morning broke clear, with a blazing tropic sun. The southeast trade + had swung around to the eastward, and was driving the PYRENEES through the + water at an eight-knot clip. Captain Davenport worked up his dead + reckoning, allowing generously for drift, and announced Moerenhout Island + to be not more than ten miles off. The Pyrenees sailed the ten miles; she + sailed ten miles more; and the lookouts at the three mastheads saw naught + but the naked, sun-washed sea. + </p> + <p> + “But the land is there, I tell you,” Captain Davenport shouted to them + from the poop. + </p> + <p> + McCoy smiled soothingly, but the captain glared about him like a madman, + fetched his sextant, and took a chronometer sight. + </p> + <p> + “I knew I was right,” he almost shouted, when he had worked up the + observation. “Twenty-one, fifty-five, south; one-thirty-six, two, west. + There you are. We're eight miles to windward yet. What did you make it + out, Mr. Konig?” + </p> + <p> + The first mate glanced at his own figures, and said in a low voice: + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-one, fifty-five all right; but my longitude's one-thirty-six, + forty-eight. That puts us considerably to leeward—” + </p> + <p> + But Captain Davenport ignored his figures with so contemptuous a silence + as to make Mr. Konig grit his teeth and curse savagely under his breath. + </p> + <p> + “Keep her off,” the captain ordered the man at the wheel. “Three points—steady + there, as she goes!” + </p> + <p> + Then he returned to his figures and worked them over. The sweat poured + from his face. He chewed his mustache, his lips, and his pencil, staring + at the figures as a man might at a ghost. Suddenly, with a fierce, + muscular outburst, he crumpled the scribbled paper in his fist and crushed + it under foot. Mr. Konig grinned vindictively and turned away, while + Captain Davenport leaned against the cabin and for half an hour spoke no + word, contenting himself with gazing to leeward with an expression of + musing hopelessness on his face. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. McCoy,” he broke silence abruptly. “The chart indicates a group of + islands, but not how many, off there to the north'ard, or + nor'-nor'westward, about forty miles—the Acteon Islands. What about + them?” + </p> + <p> + “There are four, all low,” McCoy answered. “First to the southeast is + Matuerui—no people, no entrance to the lagoon. Then comes Tenarunga. + There used to be about a dozen people there, but they may be all gone now. + Anyway, there is no entrance for a ship—only a boat entrance, with a + fathom of water. Vehauga and Teua-raro are the other two. No entrances, no + people, very low. There is no bed for the Pyrenees in that group. She + would be a total wreck.” + </p> + <p> + “Listen to that!” Captain Davenport was frantic. “No people! No entrances! + What in the devil are islands good for? + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” he barked suddenly, like an excited terrier, “the chart + gives a whole mess of islands off to the nor'west. What about them? What + one has an entrance where I can lay my ship?” + </p> + <p> + McCoy calmly considered. He did not refer to the chart. All these islands, + reefs, shoals, lagoons, entrances, and distances were marked on the chart + of his memory. He knew them as the city dweller knows his buildings, + streets, and alleys. + </p> + <p> + “Papakena and Vanavana are off there to the westward, or west-nor'westward + a hundred miles and a bit more,” he said. “One is uninhabited, and I heard + that the people on the other had gone off to Cadmus Island. Anyway, + neither lagoon has an entrance. Ahunui is another hundred miles on to the + nor'west. No entrance, no people.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, forty miles beyond them are two islands?” Captain Davenport + queried, raising his head from the chart. + </p> + <p> + McCoy shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Paros and Manuhungi—no entrances, no people. Nengo-Nengo is forty + miles beyond them, in turn, and it has no people and no entrance. But + there is Hao Island. It is just the place. The lagoon is thirty miles long + and five miles wide. There are plenty of people. You can usually find + water. And any ship in the world can go through the entrance.” + </p> + <p> + He ceased and gazed solicitously at Captain Davenport, who, bending over + the chart with a pair of dividers in hand, had just emitted a low groan. + </p> + <p> + “Is there any lagoon with an entrance anywhere nearer than Hao Island?” he + asked. + </p> + <p> + “No, Captain; that is the nearest.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's three hundred and forty miles.” Captain Davenport was speaking + very slowly, with decision. “I won't risk the responsibility of all these + lives. I'll wreck her on the Acteons. And she's a good ship, too,” he + added regretfully, after altering the course, this time making more + allowance than ever for the westerly current. + </p> + <p> + An hour later the sky was overcast. The southeast trade still held, but + the ocean was a checker board of squalls. + </p> + <p> + “We'll be there by one o'clock,” Captain Davenport announced confidently. + “By two o'clock at the outside. McCoy, you put her ashore on the one where + the people are.” + </p> + <p> + The sun did not appear again, nor, at one o'clock, was any land to be + seen. Captain Davenport looked astern at the Pyrenees' canting wake. + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord!” he cried. “An easterly current? Look at that!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Konig was incredulous. McCoy was noncommittal, though he said that in + the Paumotus there was no reason why it should not be an easterly current. + A few minutes later a squall robbed the Pyrenees temporarily of all her + wind, and she was left rolling heavily in the trough. + </p> + <p> + “Where's that deep lead? Over with it, you there!” Captain Davenport held + the lead line and watched it sag off to the northeast. “There, look at + that! Take hold of it for yourself.” + </p> + <p> + McCoy and the mate tried it, and felt the line thrumming and vibrating + savagely to the grip of the tidal stream. + </p> + <p> + “A four-knot current,” said Mr. Konig. + </p> + <p> + “An easterly current instead of a westerly,” said Captain “Davenport, + glaring accusingly at McCoy, as if to cast the blame for it upon him. + </p> + <p> + “That is one of the reasons, Captain, for insurance being eighteen per + cent in these waters,” McCoy answered cheerfully. “You can never tell. The + currents are always changing. There was a man who wrote books, I forget + his name, in the yacht Casco. He missed Takaroa by thirty miles and + fetched Tikei, all because of the shifting currents. You are up to + windward now, and you'd better keep off a few points.” + </p> + <p> + “But how much has this current set me?” the captain demanded irately. “How + am I to know how much to keep off?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, Captain,” McCoy said with great gentleness. + </p> + <p> + The wind returned, and the PYRENEES, her deck smoking and shimmering in + the bright gray light, ran off dead to leeward. Then she worked back, port + tack and starboard tack, crisscrossing her track, combing the sea for the + Acteon Islands, which the masthead lookouts failed to sight. + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport was beside himself. His rage took the form of sullen + silence, and he spent the afternoon in pacing the poop or leaning against + the weather shrouds. At nightfall, without even consulting McCoy, he + squared away and headed into the northwest. Mr. Konig, surreptitiously + consulting chart and binnacle, and McCoy, openly and innocently consulting + the binnacle, knew that they were running for Hao Island. By midnight the + squalls ceased, and the stars came out. Captain Davenport was cheered by + the promise of a clear day. + </p> + <p> + “I'll get an observation in the morning,” he told McCoy, “though what my + latitude is, is a puzzler. But I'll use the Sumner method, and settle + that. Do you know the Sumner line?” + </p> + <p> + And thereupon he explained it in detail to McCoy. + </p> + <p> + The day proved clear, the trade blew steadily out of the east, and the + Pyrenees just as steadily logged her nine knots. Both the captain and mate + worked out the position on a Sumner line, and agreed, and at noon agreed + again, and verified the morning sights by the noon sights. + </p> + <p> + “Another twenty-four hours and we'll be there,” Captain Davenport assured + McCoy. “It's a miracle the way the old girl's decks hold out. But they + can't last. They can't last. Look at them smoke, more and more every day. + Yet it was a tight deck to begin with, fresh-calked in Frisco. I was + surprised when the fire first broke out and we battened down. Look at + that!” + </p> + <p> + He broke off to gaze with dropped jaw at a spiral of smoke that coiled and + twisted in the lee of the mizzenmast twenty feet above the deck. + </p> + <p> + “Now, how did that get there?” he demanded indignantly. + </p> + <p> + Beneath it there was no smoke. Crawling up from the deck, sheltered from + the wind by the mast, by some freak it took form and visibility at that + height. It writhed away from the mast, and for a moment overhung the + captain like some threatening portent. The next moment the wind whisked it + away, and the captain's jaw returned to place. + </p> + <p> + “As I was saying, when we first battened down, I was surprised. It was a + tight deck, yet it leaked smoke like a sieve. And we've calked and calked + ever since. There must be tremendous pressure underneath to drive so much + smoke through.” + </p> + <p> + That afternoon the sky became overcast again, and squally, drizzly weather + set in. The wind shifted back and forth between southeast and northeast, + and at midnight the Pyrenees was caught aback by a sharp squall from the + southwest, from which point the wind continued to blow intermittently. + </p> + <p> + “We won't make Hao until ten or eleven,” Captain Davenport complained at + seven in the morning, when the fleeting promise of the sun had been erased + by hazy cloud masses in the eastern sky. And the next moment he was + plaintively demanding, “And what are the currents doing?” + </p> + <p> + Lookouts at the mastheads could report no land, and the day passed in + drizzling calms and violent squalls. By nightfall a heavy sea began to + make from the west. The barometer had fallen to 29.50. There was no wind, + and still the ominous sea continued to increase. Soon the Pyrenees was + rolling madly in the huge waves that marched in an unending procession + from out of the darkness of the west. Sail was shortened as fast as both + watches could work, and, when the tired crew had finished, its grumbling + and complaining voices, peculiarly animal-like and menacing, could be + heard in the darkness. Once the starboard watch was called aft to lash + down and make secure, and the men openly advertised their sullenness and + unwillingness. Every slow movement was a protest and a threat. The + atmosphere was moist and sticky like mucilage, and in the absence of wind + all hands seemed to pant and gasp for air. The sweat stood out on faces + and bare arms, and Captain Davenport for one, his face more gaunt and + care-worn than ever, and his eyes troubled and staring, was oppressed by a + feeling of impending calamity. + </p> + <p> + “It's off to the westward,” McCoy said encouragingly. “At worst, we'll be + only on the edge of it.” + </p> + <p> + But Captain Davenport refused to be comforted, and by the light of a + lantern read up the chapter in his Epitome that related to the strategy of + shipmasters in cyclonic storms. From somewhere amidships the silence was + broken by a low whimpering from the cabin boy. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, shut up!” Captain Davenport yelled suddenly and with such force as to + startle every man on board and to frighten the offender into a wild wail + of terror. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Konig,” the captain said in a voice that trembled with rage and + nerves, “will you kindly step for'ard and stop that brat's mouth with a + deck mop?” + </p> + <p> + But it was McCoy who went forward, and in a few minutes had the boy + comforted and asleep. + </p> + <p> + Shortly before daybreak the first breath of air began to move from out the + southeast, increasing swiftly to a stiff and stiffer breeze. All hands + were on deck waiting for what might be behind it. “We're all right now, + Captain,” said McCoy, standing close to his shoulder. “The hurricane is to + the west'ard, and we are south of it. This breeze is the in-suck. It won't + blow any harder. You can begin to put sail on her.” + </p> + <p> + “But what's the good? Where shall I sail? This is the second day without + observations, and we should have sighted Hao Island yesterday morning. + Which way does it bear, north, south, east, or what? Tell me that, and + I'll make sail in a jiffy.” + </p> + <p> + “I am no navigator, Captain,” McCoy said in his mild way. + </p> + <p> + “I used to think I was one,” was the retort, “before I got into these + Paumotus.” + </p> + <p> + At midday the cry of “Breakers ahead!” was heard from the lookout. The + Pyrenees was kept off, and sail after sail was loosed and sheeted home. + The Pyrenees was sliding through the water and fighting a current that + threatened to set her down upon the breakers. Officers and men were + working like mad, cook and cabin boy, Captain Davenport himself, and McCoy + all lending a hand. It was a close shave. It was a low shoal, a bleak and + perilous place over which the seas broke unceasingly, where no man could + live, and on which not even sea birds could rest. The PYRENEES was swept + within a hundred yards of it before the wind carried her clear, and at + this moment the panting crew, its work done, burst out in a torrent of + curses upon the head of McCoy—of McCoy who had come on board, and + proposed the run to Mangareva, and lured them all away from the safety of + Pitcairn Island to certain destruction in this baffling and terrible + stretch of sea. But McCoy's tranquil soul was undisturbed. He smiled at + them with simple and gracious benevolence, and, somehow, the exalted + goodness of him seemed to penetrate to their dark and somber souls, + shaming them, and from very shame stilling the curses vibrating in their + throats. + </p> + <p> + “Bad waters! Bad waters!” Captain Davenport was murmuring as his ship + forged clear; but he broke off abruptly to gaze at the shoal which should + have been dead astern, but which was already on the PYRENEES' + weather-quarter and working up rapidly to windward. + </p> + <p> + He sat down and buried his face in his hands. And the first mate saw, and + McCoy saw, and the crew saw, what he had seen. South of the shoal an + easterly current had set them down upon it; north of the shoal an equally + swift westerly current had clutched the ship and was sweeping her away. + </p> + <p> + “I've heard of these Paumotus before,” the captain groaned, lifting his + blanched face from his hands. “Captain Moyendale told me about them after + losing his ship on them. And I laughed at him behind his back. God forgive + me, I laughed at him. What shoal is that?” he broke off, to ask McCoy. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, Captain.” + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you know?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I never saw it before, and because I have never heard of it. I do + know that it is not charted. These waters have never been thoroughly + surveyed.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you don't know where we are?” + </p> + <p> + “No more than you do,” McCoy said gently. + </p> + <p> + At four in the afternoon cocoanut trees were sighted, apparently growing + out of the water. A little later the low land of an atoll was raised above + the sea. + </p> + <p> + “I know where we are now, Captain.” McCoy lowered the glasses from his + eyes. “That's Resolution Island. We are forty miles beyond Hao Island, and + the wind is in our teeth.” + </p> + <p> + “Get ready to beach her then. Where's the entrance?” + </p> + <p> + “There's only a canoe passage. But now that we know where we are, we can + run for Barclay de Tolley. It is only one hundred and twenty miles from + here, due nor'-nor'west. With this breeze we can be there by nine o'clock + tomorrow morning.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport consulted the chart and debated with himself. + </p> + <p> + “If we wreck her here,” McCoy added, “we'd have to make the run to Barclay + de Tolley in the boats just the same.” + </p> + <p> + The captain gave his orders, and once more the Pyrenees swung off for + another run across the inhospitable sea. + </p> + <p> + And the middle of the next afternoon saw despair and mutiny on her smoking + deck. The current had accelerated, the wind had slackened, and the + Pyrenees had sagged off to the west. The lookout sighted Barclay de Tolley + to the eastward, barely visible from the masthead, and vainly and for + hours the PYRENEES tried to beat up to it. Ever, like a mirage, the + cocoanut trees hovered on the horizon, visible only from the masthead. + From the deck they were hidden by the bulge of the world. + </p> + <p> + Again Captain Davenport consulted McCoy and the chart. Makemo lay + seventy-five miles to the southwest. Its lagoon was thirty miles long, and + its entrance was excellent. When Captain Davenport gave his orders, the + crew refused duty. They announced that they had had enough of hell fire + under their feet. There was the land. What if the ship could not make it? + They could make it in the boats. Let her burn, then. Their lives amounted + to something to them. They had served faithfully the ship, now they were + going to serve themselves. + </p> + <p> + They sprang to the boats, brushing the second and third mates out of the + way, and proceeded to swing the boats out and to prepare to lower away. + Captain Davenport and the first mate, revolvers in hand, were advancing to + the break of the poop, when McCoy, who had climbed on top of the cabin, + began to speak. + </p> + <p> + He spoke to the sailors, and at the first sound of his dovelike, cooing + voice they paused to hear. He extended to them his own ineffable serenity + and peace. His soft voice and simple thoughts flowed out to them in a + magic stream, soothing them against their wills. Long forgotten things + came back to them, and some remembered lullaby songs of childhood and the + content and rest of the mother's arm at the end of the day. There was no + more trouble, no more danger, no more irk, in all the world. Everything + was as it should be, and it was only a matter of course that they should + turn their backs upon the land and put to sea once more with hell fire hot + beneath their feet. + </p> + <p> + McCoy spoke simply; but it was not what he spoke. It was his personality + that spoke more eloquently than any word he could utter. It was an alchemy + of soul occultly subtile and profoundly deep—a mysterious emanation + of the spirit, seductive, sweetly humble, and terribly imperious. It was + illumination in the dark crypts of their souls, a compulsion of purity and + gentleness vastly greater than that which resided in the shining, + death-spitting revolvers of the officers. + </p> + <p> + The men wavered reluctantly where they stood, and those who had loosed the + turns made them fast again. Then one, and then another, and then all of + them, began to sidle awkwardly away. + </p> + <p> + McCoy's face was beaming with childlike pleasure as he descended from the + top of the cabin. There was no trouble. For that matter there had been no + trouble averted. There never had been any trouble, for there was no place + for such in the blissful world in which he lived. + </p> + <p> + “You hypnotized em,” Mr. Konig grinned at him, speaking in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “Those boys are good,” was the answer. “Their hearts are good. They have + had a hard time, and they have worked hard, and they will work hard to the + end.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Konig had not time to reply. His voice was ringing out orders, the + sailors were springing to obey, and the PYRENEES was paying slowly off + from the wind until her bow should point in the direction of Makemo. + </p> + <p> + The wind was very light, and after sundown almost ceased. It was + insufferably warm, and fore and aft men sought vainly to sleep. The deck + was too hot to lie upon, and poisonous vapors, oozing through the seams, + crept like evil spirits over the ship, stealing into the nostrils and + windpipes of the unwary and causing fits of sneezing and coughing. The + stars blinked lazily in the dim vault overhead; and the full moon, rising + in the east, touched with its light the myriads of wisps and threads and + spidery films of smoke that intertwined and writhed and twisted along the + deck, over the rails, and up the masts and shrouds. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me,” Captain Davenport said, rubbing his smarting eyes, “what + happened with that BOUNTY crowd after they reached Pitcairn? The account I + read said they burnt the Bounty, and that they were not discovered until + many years later. But what happened in the meantime? I've always been + curious to know. They were men with their necks in the rope. There were + some native men, too. And then there were women. That made it look like + trouble right from the jump.” + </p> + <p> + “There was trouble,” McCoy answered. “They were bad men. They quarreled + about the women right away. One of the mutineers, Williams, lost his wife. + All the women were Tahitian women. His wife fell from the cliffs when + hunting sea birds. Then he took the wife of one of the native men away + from him. All the native men were made very angry by this, and they killed + off nearly all the mutineers. Then the mutineers that escaped killed off + all the native men. The women helped. And the natives killed each other. + Everybody killed everybody. They were terrible men. + </p> + <p> + “Timiti was killed by two other natives while they were combing his hair + in friendship. The white men had sent them to do it. Then the white men + killed them. The wife of Tullaloo killed him in a cave because she wanted + a white man for husband. They were very wicked. God had hidden His face + from them. At the end of two years all the native men were murdered, and + all the white men except four. They were Young, John Adams, McCoy, who was + my great-grandfather, and Quintal. He was a very bad man, too. Once, just + because his wife did not catch enough fish for him, he bit off her ear.” + </p> + <p> + “They were a bad lot!” Mr. Konig exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, they were very bad,” McCoy agreed and went on serenely cooing of the + blood and lust of his iniquitous ancestry. “My great-grandfather escaped + murder in order to die by his own hand. He made a still and manufactured + alcohol from the roots of the ti-plant. Quintal was his chum, and they got + drunk together all the time. At last McCoy got delirium tremens, tied a + rock to his neck, and jumped into the sea. + </p> + <p> + “Quintal's wife, the one whose ear he bit off, also got killed by falling + from the cliffs. Then Quintal went to Young and demanded his wife, and + went to Adams and demanded his wife. Adams and Young were afraid of + Quintal. They knew he would kill them. So they killed him, the two of them + together, with a hatchet. Then Young died. And that was about all the + trouble they had.” + </p> + <p> + “I should say so,” Captain Davenport snorted. “There was nobody left to + kill.” + </p> + <p> + “You see, God had hidden His face,” McCoy said. + </p> + <p> + By morning no more than a faint air was blowing from the eastward, and, + unable to make appreciable southing by it, Captain Davenport hauled up + full-and-by on the port track. He was afraid of that terrible westerly + current which had cheated him out of so many ports of refuge. All day the + calm continued, and all night, while the sailors, on a short ration of + dried banana, were grumbling. Also, they were growing weak and complaining + of stomach pains caused by the straight banana diet. All day the current + swept the PYRENEES to the westward, while there was no wind to bear her + south. In the middle of the first dogwatch, cocoanut trees were sighted + due south, their tufted heads rising above the water and marking the + low-lying atoll beneath. + </p> + <p> + “That is Taenga Island,” McCoy said. “We need a breeze tonight, or else + we'll miss Makemo.” + </p> + <p> + “What's become of the southeast trade?” the captain demanded. “Why don't + it blow? What's the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “It is the evaporation from the big lagoons—there are so many of + them,” McCoy explained. “The evaporation upsets the whole system of + trades. It even causes the wind to back up and blow gales from the + southwest. This is the Dangerous Archipelago, Captain.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport faced the old man, opened his mouth, and was about to + curse, but paused and refrained. McCoy's presence was a rebuke to the + blasphemies that stirred in his brain and trembled in his larynx. McCoy's + influence had been growing during the many days they had been together. + Captain Davenport was an autocrat of the sea, fearing no man, never + bridling his tongue, and now he found himself unable to curse in the + presence of this old man with the feminine brown eyes and the voice of a + dove. When he realized this, Captain Davenport experienced a distinct + shock. This old man was merely the seed of McCoy, of McCoy of the BOUNTY, + the mutineer fleeing from the hemp that waited him in England, the McCoy + who was a power for evil in the early days of blood and lust and violent + death on Pitcairn Island. + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport was not religious, yet in that moment he felt a mad + impulse to cast himself at the other's feet—and to say he knew not + what. It was an emotion that so deeply stirred him, rather than a coherent + thought, and he was aware in some vague way of his own unworthiness and + smallness in the presence of this other man who possessed the simplicity + of a child and the gentleness of a woman. + </p> + <p> + Of course he could not so humble himself before the eyes of his officers + and men. And yet the anger that had prompted the blasphemy still raged in + him. He suddenly smote the cabin with his clenched hand and cried: + </p> + <p> + “Look here, old man, I won't be beaten. These Paumotus have cheated and + tricked me and made a fool of me. I refuse to be beaten. I am going to + drive this ship, and drive and drive and drive clear through the Paumotus + to China but what I find a bed for her. If every man deserts, I'll stay by + her. I'll show the Paumotus. They can't fool me. She's a good girl, and + I'll stick by her as long as there's a plank to stand on. You hear me?” + </p> + <p> + “And I'll stay with you, Captain,” McCoy said. + </p> + <p> + During the night, light, baffling airs blew out of the south, and the + frantic captain, with his cargo of fire, watched and measured his westward + drift and went off by himself at times to curse softly so that McCoy + should not hear. + </p> + <p> + Daylight showed more palms growing out of the water to the south. + </p> + <p> + “That's the leeward point of Makemo,” McCoy said. “Katiu is only a few + miles to the west. We may make that.” + </p> + <p> + But the current, sucking between the two islands, swept them to the + northwest, and at one in the afternoon they saw the palms of Katiu rise + above the sea and sink back into the sea again. + </p> + <p> + A few minutes later, just as the captain had discovered that a new current + from the northeast had gripped the Pyrenees, the masthead lookouts raised + cocoanut palms in the northwest. + </p> + <p> + “It is Raraka,” said McCoy. “We won't make it without wind. The current is + drawing us down to the southwest. But we must watch out. A few miles + farther on a current flows north and turns in a circle to the northwest. + This will sweep us away from Fakarava, and Fakarava is the place for the + Pyrenees to find her bed.” + </p> + <p> + “They can sweep all they da—all they well please,” Captain Davenport + remarked with heat. “We'll find a bed for her somewhere just the same.” + </p> + <p> + But the situation on the Pyrenees was reaching a culmination. The deck was + so hot that it seemed an increase of a few degrees would cause it to burst + into flames. In many places even the heavy-soled shoes of the men were no + protection, and they were compelled to step lively to avoid scorching + their feet. The smoke had increased and grown more acrid. Every man on + board was suffering from inflamed eyes, and they coughed and strangled + like a crew of tuberculosis patients. In the afternoon the boats were + swung out and equipped. The last several packages of dried bananas were + stored in them, as well as the instruments of the officers. Captain + Davenport even put the chronometer into the longboat, fearing the blowing + up of the deck at any moment. + </p> + <p> + All night this apprehension weighed heavily on all, and in the first + morning light, with hollow eyes and ghastly faces, they stared at one + another as if in surprise that the Pyrenees still held together and that + they still were alive. + </p> + <p> + Walking rapidly at times, and even occasionally breaking into an + undignified hop-skip-and-run, Captain Davenport inspected his ship's deck. + </p> + <p> + “It is a matter of hours now, if not of minutes,” he announced on his + return to the poop. + </p> + <p> + The cry of land came down from the masthead. From the deck the land was + invisible, and McCoy went aloft, while the captain took advantage of the + opportunity to curse some of the bitterness out of his heart. But the + cursing was suddenly stopped by a dark line on the water which he sighted + to the northeast. It was not a squall, but a regular breeze—the + disrupted trade wind, eight points out of its direction but resuming + business once more. + </p> + <p> + “Hold her up, Captain,” McCoy said as soon as he reached the poop. “That's + the easterly point of Fakarava, and we'll go in through the passage + full-tilt, the wind abeam, and every sail drawing.” + </p> + <p> + At the end of an hour, the cocoanut trees and the low-lying land were + visible from the deck. The feeling that the end of the PYRENEES' + resistance was imminent weighed heavily on everybody. Captain Davenport + had the three boats lowered and dropped short astern, a man in each to + keep them apart. The Pyrenees closely skirted the shore, the surf-whitened + atoll a bare two cable lengths away. + </p> + <p> + And a minute later the land parted, exposing a narrow passage and the + lagoon beyond, a great mirror, thirty miles in length and a third as + broad. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Captain.” + </p> + <p> + For the last time the yards of the Pyrenees swung around as she obeyed the + wheel and headed into the passage. The turns had scarcely been made, and + nothing had been coiled down, when the men and mates swept back to the + poop in panic terror. Nothing had happened, yet they averred that + something was going to happen. They could not tell why. They merely knew + that it was about to happen. McCoy started forward to take up his position + on the bow in order to con the vessel in; but the captain gripped his arm + and whirled him around. + </p> + <p> + “Do it from here,” he said. “That deck's not safe. What's the matter?” he + demanded the next instant. “We're standing still.” + </p> + <p> + McCoy smiled. + </p> + <p> + “You are bucking a seven-knot current, Captain,” he said. “That is the way + the full ebb runs out of this passage.” + </p> + <p> + At the end of another hour the Pyrenees had scarcely gained her length, + but the wind freshened and she began to forge ahead. + </p> + <p> + “Better get into the boats, some of you,” Captain Davenport commanded. + </p> + <p> + His voice was still ringing, and the men were just beginning to move in + obedience, when the amidship deck of the Pyrenees, in a mass of flame and + smoke, was flung upward into the sails and rigging, part of it remaining + there and the rest falling into the sea. The wind being abeam, was what + had saved the men crowded aft. They made a blind rush to gain the boats, + but McCoy's voice, carrying its convincing message of vast calm and + endless time, stopped them. + </p> + <p> + “Take it easy,” he was saying. “Everything is all right. Pass that boy + down somebody, please.” + </p> + <p> + The man at the wheel had forsaken it in a funk, and Captain Davenport had + leaped and caught the spokes in time to prevent the ship from yawing in + the current and going ashore. + </p> + <p> + “Better take charge of the boats,” he said to Mr. Konig. “Tow one of them + short, right under the quarter.... When I go over, it'll be on the jump.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Konig hesitated, then went over the rail and lowered himself into the + boat. + </p> + <p> + “Keep her off half a point, Captain.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport gave a start. He had thought he had the ship to himself. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ay; half a point it is,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + Amidships the Pyrenees was an open flaming furnace, out of which poured an + immense volume of smoke which rose high above the masts and completely hid + the forward part of the ship. McCoy, in the shelter of the mizzen-shrouds, + continued his difficult task of conning the ship through the intricate + channel. The fire was working aft along the deck from the seat of + explosion, while the soaring tower of canvas on the mainmast went up and + vanished in a sheet of flame. Forward, though they could not see them, + they knew that the head-sails were still drawing. + </p> + <p> + “If only she don't burn all her canvas off before she makes inside,” the + captain groaned. + </p> + <p> + “She'll make it,” McCoy assured him with supreme confidence. “There is + plenty of time. She is bound to make it. And once inside, we'll put her + before it; that will keep the smoke away from us and hold back the fire + from working aft.” + </p> + <p> + A tongue of flame sprang up the mizzen, reached hungrily for the lowest + tier of canvas, missed it, and vanished. From aloft a burning shred of + rope stuff fell square on the back of Captain Davenport's neck. He acted + with the celerity of one stung by a bee as he reached up and brushed the + offending fire from his skin. + </p> + <p> + “How is she heading, Captain?” + </p> + <p> + “Nor'west by west.” + </p> + <p> + “Keep her west-nor-west.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport put the wheel up and steadied her. + </p> + <p> + “West by north, Captain.” + </p> + <p> + “West by north she is.” + </p> + <p> + “And now west.” + </p> + <p> + Slowly, point by point, as she entered the lagoon, the PYRENEES described + the circle that put her before the wind; and point by point, with all the + calm certitude of a thousand years of time to spare, McCoy chanted the + changing course. + </p> + <p> + “Another point, Captain.” + </p> + <p> + “A point it is.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Davenport whirled several spokes over, suddenly reversing and + coming back one to check her. + </p> + <p> + “Steady.” + </p> + <p> + “Steady she is—right on it.” + </p> + <p> + Despite the fact that the wind was now astern, the heat was so intense + that Captain Davenport was compelled to steal sidelong glances into the + binnacle, letting go the wheel now with one hand, now with the other, to + rub or shield his blistering cheeks. + </p> + <p> + McCoy's beard was crinkling and shriveling and the smell of it, strong in + the other's nostrils, compelled him to look toward McCoy with sudden + solicitude. Captain Davenport was letting go the spokes alternately with + his hands in order to rub their blistering backs against his trousers. + Every sail on the mizzenmast vanished in a rush of flame, compelling the + two men to crouch and shield their faces. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said McCoy, stealing a glance ahead at the low shore, “four points + up, Captain, and let her drive.” + </p> + <p> + Shreds and patches of burning rope and canvas were falling about them and + upon them. The tarry smoke from a smouldering piece of rope at the + captain's feet set him off into a violent coughing fit, during which he + still clung to the spokes. + </p> + <p> + The Pyrenees struck, her bow lifted and she ground ahead gently to a stop. + A shower of burning fragments, dislodged by the shock, fell about them. + The ship moved ahead again and struck a second time. She crushed the + fragile coral under her keel, drove on, and struck a third time. + </p> + <p> + “Hard over,” said McCoy. “Hard over?” he questioned gently, a minute + later. + </p> + <p> + “She won't answer,” was the reply. + </p> + <p> + “All right. She is swinging around.” McCoy peered over the side. “Soft, + white sand. Couldn't ask better. A beautiful bed.” + </p> + <p> + As the Pyrenees swung around her stern away from the wind, a fearful blast + of smoke and flame poured aft. Captain Davenport deserted the wheel in + blistering agony. He reached the painter of the boat that lay under the + quarter, then looked for McCoy, who was standing aside to let him go down. + </p> + <p> + “You first,” the captain cried, gripping him by the shoulder and almost + throwing him over the rail. But the flame and smoke were too terrible, and + he followed hard after McCoy, both men wriggling on the rope and sliding + down into the boat together. A sailor in the bow, without waiting for + orders, slashed the painter through with his sheath knife. The oars, + poised in readiness, bit into the water, and the boat shot away. + </p> + <p> + “A beautiful bed, Captain,” McCoy murmured, looking back. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, a beautiful bed, and all thanks to you,” was the answer. + </p> + <p> + The three boats pulled away for the white beach of pounded coral, beyond + which, on the edge of a cocoanut grove, could be seen a half dozen grass + houses and a score or more of excited natives, gazing wide-eyed at the + conflagration that had come to land. + </p> + <p> + The boats grounded and they stepped out on the white beach. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” said McCoy, “I must see about getting back to Pitcairn.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of South Sea Tales, by Jack London + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOUTH SEA TALES *** + +***** This file should be named 1208-h.htm or 1208-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/0/1208/ + +Produced by Theresa Armao, and David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Yah!" + +The Heathen + +The Terrible Solomons + +The Inevitable White Man + +The Seed of McCoy + + + + +THE HOUSE OF MAPUHI + +Despite the heavy clumsiness of her lines, the Aorai handled easily in the +light breeze, and her captain ran her well in before he hove to just outside +the suck of the surf. The atoll of Hikueru lay low on the water, a circle of +pounded coral sand a hundred yards wide, twenty miles in circumference, and +from three to five feet above high-water mark. On the bottom of the huge and +glassy lagoon was much pearl shell, and from the deck of the schooner, across +the slender ring of the atoll, the divers could be seen at work. But the +lagoon had no entrance for even a trading schooner. With a favoring breeze +cutters could win in through the tortuous and shallow channel, but the +schooners lay off and on outside and sent in their small boats. + +The Aorai swung out a boat smartly, into which sprang half a dozen +brown-skinned sailors clad only in scarlet loincloths. They took the oars, +while in the stern sheets, at the steering sweep, stood a young man garbed in +the tropic white that marks the European. The golden strain of Polynesia +betrayed itself in the sun-gilt of his fair skin and cast up golden sheens and +lights through the glimmering blue of his eyes. Raoul he was, Alexandre Raoul, +youngest son of Marie Raoul, the wealthy quarter-caste, who owned and managed +half a dozen trading schooners similar to the Aorai. Across an eddy just +outside the entrance, and in and through and over a boiling tide-rip, the boat +fought its way to the mirrored calm of the lagoon. Young Raoul leaped out upon +the white sand and shook hands with a tall native. The man's chest and +shoulders were magnificent, but the stump of a right arm, beyond the flesh of +which the age-whitened bone projected several inches, attested the encounter +with a shark that had put an end to his diving days and made him a fawner and +an intriguer for small favors. + +"Have you heard, Alec?" were his first words. "Mapuhi has found a pearl--such +a pearl. Never was there one like it ever fished up in Hikueru, nor in all the +Paumotus, nor in all the world. Buy it from him. He has it now. And remember +that I told you first. He is a fool and you can get it cheap. Have you any +tobacco?" + +Straight up the beach to a shack under a pandanus tree Raoul headed. He was +his mother's supercargo, and his business was to comb all the Paumotus for the +wealth of copra, shell, and pearls that they yielded up. + +He was a young supercargo, it was his second voyage in such capacity, and he +suffered much secret worry from his lack of experience in pricing pearls. But +when Mapuhi exposed the pearl to his sight he managed to suppress the startle +it gave him, and to maintain a careless, commercial expression on his face. +For the pearl had struck him a blow. It was large as a pigeon egg, a perfect +sphere, of a whiteness that reflected opalescent lights from all colors about +it. It was alive. Never had he seen anything like it. When Mapuhi dropped it +into his hand he was surprised by the weight of it. That showed that it was a +good pearl. He examined it closely, through a pocket magnifying glass. It was +without flaw or blemish. The purity of it seemed almost to melt into the +atmosphere out of his hand. In the shade it was softly luminous, gleaming like +a tender moon. So translucently white was it, that when he dropped it into a +glass of water he had difficulty in finding it. So straight and swiftly had it +sunk to the bottom that he knew its weight was excellent. + +"Well, what do you want for it?" he asked, with a fine assumption of +nonchalance. + +"I want--" Mapuhi began, and behind him, framing his own dark face, the dark +faces of two women and a girl nodded concurrence in what he wanted. Their +heads were bent forward, they were animated by a suppressed eagerness, their +eyes flashed avariciously. + +"I want a house," Mapuhi went on. "It must have a roof of galvanized iron and +an octagon-drop-clock. It must be six fathoms long with a porch all around. A +big room must be in the centre, with a round table in the middle of it and the +octagon-drop-clock on the wall. There must be four bedrooms, two on each side +of the big room, and in each bedroom must be an iron bed, two chairs, and a +washstand. And back of the house must be a kitchen, a good kitchen, with pots +and pans and a stove. And you must build the house on my island, which is +Fakarava." + +"Is that all?" Raoul asked incredulously. + +"There must be a sewing machine," spoke up Tefara, Mapuhi's wife. + +"Not forgetting the octagon-drop-clock," added Nauri, Mapuhi's mother. + +"Yes, that is all," said Mapuhi. + +Young Raoul laughed. He laughed long and heartily. But while he laughed he +secretly performed problems in mental arithmetic. He had never built a house +in his life, and his notions concerning house building were hazy. While he +laughed, he calculated the cost of the voyage to Tahiti for materials, of the +materials themselves, of the voyage back again to Fakarava, and the cost of +landing the materials and of building the house. It would come to four +thousand French dollars, allowing a margin for safety--four thousand French +dollars were equivalent to twenty thousad francs. It was impossible. How was +he to know the value of such a pearl? Twenty thousand francs was a lot of +money--and of his mother's money at that. + +"Mapuhi," he said, "you are a big fool. Set a money price." + +But Mapuhi shook his head, and the three heads behind him shook with his. + +"I want the house," he said. "It must be six fathoms long with a porch all +around--" + +"Yes, yes," Raoul interrupted. "I know all about your house, but it won't do. +I'll give you a thousand Chili dollars." + +The four heads chorused a silent negative. + +"And a hundred Chili dollars in trade." + +"I want the house," Mapuhi began. + +"What good will the house do you?" Raoul demanded. "The first hurricane that +comes along will wash it away. You ought to know. + +Captain Raffy says it looks like a hurricane right now." + +"Not on Fakarava," said Mapuhi. "The land is much higher there. On this +island, yes. Any hurricane can sweep Hikueru. I will have the house on +Fakarava. It must be six fathoms long with a porch all around--" + +And Raoul listened again to the tale of the house. Several hours he spent in +the endeavor to hammer the house obsession out of Mapuhi's mind; but Mapuhi's +mother and wife, and Ngakura, Mapuhi's daughter, bolstered him in his resolve +for the house. Through the open doorway, while he listened for the twentieth +time to the detailed description of the house that was wanted, Raoul saw his +schooner's second boat draw up on the beach. The sailors rested on the oars, +advertising haste to be gone. The first mate of the Aorai sprang ashore, +exchanged a word with the one-armed native, then hurried toward Raoul. The day +grew suddenly dark, as a squall obscured the face of the sun. Across the +lagoon Raoul could see approaching the ominous line of the puff of wind. + +"Captain Raffy says you've got to get to hell outa here," was the mate's +greeting. "If there's any shell, we've got to run the risk of picking it up +later on--so he says. The barometer's dropped to twenty-nine-seventy." + +The gust of wind struck the pandanus tree overhead and tore through the palms +beyond, flinging half a dozen ripe cocoanuts with heavy thuds to the ground. +Then came the rain out of the distance, advancing with the roar of a gale of +wind and causing the water of the lagoon to smoke in driven windrows. The +sharp rattle of the first drops was on the leaves when Raoul sprang to his +feet. + +"A thousand Chili dollars, cash down, Mapuhi," he said. "And two hundred Chili +dollars in trade." + +"I want a house--" the other began. + +"Mapuhi!" Raoul yelled, in order to make himself heard. "You are a fool!" + +He flung out of the house, and, side by side with the mate, fought his way +down the beach toward the boat. They could not see the boat. The tropic rain +sheeted about them so that they could see only the beach under their feet and +the spiteful little waves from the lagoon that snapped and bit at the sand. A +figure appeared through the deluge. It was Huru-Huru, the man with the one +arm. + +"Did you get the pearl?" he yelled in Raoul's ear. + +"Mapuhi is a fool!" was the answering yell, and the next moment they were lost +to each other in the descending water. + +Half an hour later, Huru-Huru, watching from the seaward side of the atoll, +saw the two boats hoisted in and the Aorai pointing her nose out to sea. And +near her, just come in from the sea on the wings of the squall, he saw another +schooner hove to and dropping a boat into the water. He knew her. It was the +OROHENA, owned by Toriki, the half-caste trader, who served as his own +supercargo and who doubtlessly was even then in the stern sheets of the boat. +Huru-Huru chuckled. He knew that Mapuhi owed Toriki for trade goods advanced +the year before. + +The squall had passed. The hot sun was blazing down, and the lagoon was once +more a mirror. But the air was sticky like mucilage, and the weight of it +seemed to burden the lungs and make breathing difficult. + +"Have you heard the news, Toriki?" Huru-Huru asked. "Mapuhi has found a pearl. +Never was there a pearl like it ever fished up in Hikueru, nor anywhere in the +Paumotus, nor anywhere in all the world. Mapuhi is a fool. Besides, he owes +you money. Remember that I told you first. Have you any tobacco?" + +And to the grass shack of Mapuhi went Toriki. He was a masterful man, withal a +fairly stupid one. Carelessly he glanced at the wonderful pearl--glanced for a +moment only; and carelessly he dropped it into his pocket. + +"You are lucky," he said. "It is a nice pearl. I will give you credit on the +books." + +"I want a house," Mapuhi began, in consternation. "It must be six fathoms--" + +"Six fathoms your grandmother!" was the trader's retort. "You want to pay up +your debts, that's what you want. You owed me twelve hundred dollars Chili. +Very well; you owe them no longer. The amount is squared. Besides, I will give +you credit for two hundred Chili. If, when I get to Tahiti, the pearl sells +well, I will give you credit for another hundred--that will make three +hundred. But mind, only if the pearl sells well. I may even lose money on it." + +Mapuhi folded his arms in sorrow and sat with bowed head. He had been robbed +of his pearl. In place of the house, he had paid a debt. There was nothing to +show for the pearl. + +"You are a fool," said Tefara. + +"You are a fool," said Nauri, his mother. "Why did you let the pearl into his +hand?" + +"What was I to do?" Mapuhi protested. "I owed him the money. He knew I had the +pearl. You heard him yourself ask to see it. I had not told him. He knew. +Somebody else told him. And I owed him the money." + +"Mapuhi is a fool," mimicked Ngakura. + +She was twelve years old and did not know any better. Mapuhi relieved his +feelings by sending her reeling from a box on the ear; while Tefara and Nauri +burst into tears and continued to upbraid him after the manner of women. + +Huru-Huru, watching on the beach, saw a third schooner that he knew heave to +outside the entrance and drop a boat. It was the Hira, well named, for she was +owned by Levy, the German Jew, the greatest pearl buyer of them all, and, as +was well known, Hira was the Tahitian god of fishermen and thieves. + +"Have you heard the news?" Huru-Huru asked, as Levy, a fat man with massive +asymmetrical features, stepped out upon the beach. "Mapuhi has found a pearl. +There was never a pearl like it in Hikueru, in all the Paumotus, in all the +world. Mapuhi is a fool. He has sold it to Toriki for fourteen hundred +Chili--I listened outside and heard. Toriki is likewise a fool. You can buy it +from him cheap. Remember that I told you first. Have you any tobacco?" + +"Where is Toriki?" + +"In the house of Captain Lynch, drinking absinthe. He has been there an hour." + +And while Levy and Toriki drank absinthe and chaffered over the pearl, +Huru-Huru listened and heard the stupendous price of twenty-five thousand +francs agreed upon. + +It was at this time that both the OROHENA and the Hira, running in close to +the shore, began firing guns and signalling frantically. The three men stepped +outside in time to see the two schooners go hastily about and head off shore, +dropping mainsails and flying jibs on the run in the teeth of the squall that +heeled them far over on the whitened water. Then the rain blotted them out. + +"They'll be back after it's over," said Toriki. "We'd better be getting out of +here." + +"I reckon the glass has fallen some more," said Captain Lynch. + +He was a white-bearded sea-captain, too old for service, who had learned that +the only way to live on comfortable terms with his asthma was on Hikueru. He +went inside to look at the barometer. + +"Great God!" they heard him exclaim, and rushed in to join him at staring at a +dial, which marked twenty-nine-twenty. + +Again they came out, this time anxiously to consult sea and sky. The squall +had cleared away, but the sky remained overcast. The two schooners, under all +sail and joined by a third, could be seen making back. A veer in the wind +induced them to slack off sheets, and five minutes afterward a sudden veer +from the opposite quarter caught all three schooners aback, and those on shore +could see the boom-tackles being slacked away or cast off on the jump. The +sound of the surf was loud, hollow, and menacing, and a heavy swell was +setting in. A terrible sheet of lightning burst before their eyes, +illuminating the dark day, and the thunder rolled wildly about them. + +Toriki and Levy broke into a run for their boats, the latter ambling along +like a panic-stricken hippopotamus. As their two boats swept out the entrance, +they passed the boat of the Aorai coming in. In the stern sheets, encouraging +the rowers, was Raoul. Unable to shake the vision of the pearl from his mind, +he was returning to accept Mapuhi's price of a house. + +He landed on the beach in the midst of a driving thunder squall that was so +dense that he collided with Huru-Huru before he saw him. + +"Too late," yelled Huru-Huru. "Mapuhi sold it to Toriki for fourteen hundred +Chili, and Toriki sold it to Levy for twenty-five thousand francs. And Levy +will sell it in France for a hundred thousand francs. Have you any tobacco?" + +Raoul felt relieved. His troubles about the pearl were over. He need not worry +any more, even if he had not got the pearl. But he did not believe Huru-Huru. +Mapuhi might well have sold it for fourteen hundred Chili, but that Levy, who +knew pearls, should have paid twenty-five thousand francs was too wide a +stretch. Raoul decided to interview Captain Lynch on the subject, but when he +arrived at that ancient mariner's house, he found him looking wide-eyed at the +barometer. + +"What do you read it?" Captain Lynch asked anxiously, rubbing his spectables +and staring again at the instrument. + +"Twenty-nine-ten," said Raoul. "I have never seen it so low before." + +"I should say not!" snorted the captain. "Fifty years boy and man on all the +seas, and I've never seen it go down to that. Listen!" + +They stood for a moment, while the surf rumbled and shook the house. Then they +went outside. The squall had passed. They could see the Aorai lying becalmed a +mile away and pitching and tossing madly in the tremendous seas that rolled in +stately procession down out of the northeast and flung themselves furiously +upon the coral shore. One of the sailors from the boat pointed at the mouth of +the passage and shook his head. Raoul looked and saw a white anarchy of foam +and surge. + +"I guess I'll stay with you tonight, Captain," he said; then turned to the +sailor and told him to haul the boat out and to find shelter for himself and +fellows. + +"Twenty-nine flat," Captain Lynch reported, coming out from another look at +the barometer, a chair in his hand. + +He sat down and stared at the spectacle of the sea. The sun came out, +increasing the sultriness of the day, while the dead calm still held. The seas +continued to increase in magnitude. + +"What makes that sea is what gets me," Raoul muttered petulantly. + +"There is no wind, yet look at it, look at that fellow there!" + +Miles in length, carrying tens of thousands of tons in weight, its impact +shook the frail atoll like an earthquake. Captain Lynch was startled. + +"Gracious!" he bellowed, half rising from his chair, then sinking back. + +"But there is no wind," Raoul persisted. "I could understand it if there was +wind along with it." + +"You'll get the wind soon enough without worryin' for it," was the grim reply. + +The two men sat on in silence. The sweat stood out on their skin in myriads of +tiny drops that ran together, forming blotches of moisture, which, in turn, +coalesced into rivulets that dripped to the ground. They panted for breath, +the old man's efforts being especially painful. A sea swept up the beach, +licking around the trunks of the cocoanuts and subsiding almost at their feet. + +"Way past high water mark," Captain Lynch remarked; "and I've been here eleven +years." He looked at his watch. "It is three o'clock." + +A man and woman, at their heels a motley following of brats and curs, trailed +disconsolately by. They came to a halt beyond the house, and, after much +irresolution, sat down in the sand. A few minutes later another family trailed +in from the opposite direction, the men and women carrying a heterogeneous +assortment of possessions. And soon several hundred persons of all ages and +sexes were congregated about the captain's dwelling. He called to one new +arrival, a woman with a nursing babe in her arms, and in answer received the +information that her house had just been swept into the lagoon. + +This was the highest spot of land in miles, and already, in many places on +either hand, the great seas were making a clean breach of the slender ring of +the atoll and surging into the lagoon. Twenty miles around stretched the ring +of the atoll, and in no place was it more than fifty fathoms wide. It was the +height of the diving season, and from all the islands around, even as far as +Tahiti, the natives had gathered. + +"There are twelve hundred men, women, and children here," said Captain Lynch. +"I wonder how many will be here tomorrow morning." + +"But why don't it blow?--that's what I want to know," Raoul demanded. + +"Don't worry, young man, don't worry; you'll get your troubles fast enough." + +Even as Captain Lynch spoke, a great watery mass smote the atoll. + +The sea water churned about them three inches deep under the chairs. A low +wail of fear went up from the many women. The children, with clasped hands, +stared at the immense rollers and cried piteously. Chickens and cats, wading +perturbedly in the water, as by common consent, with flight and scramble took +refuge on the roof of the captain's house. A Paumotan, with a litter of +new-born puppies in a basket, climbed into a cocoanut tree and twenty feet +above the ground made the basket fast. The mother floundered about in the +water beneath, whining and yelping. + +And still the sun shone brightly and the dead calm continued. They sat and +watched the seas and the insane pitching of the Aorai. Captain Lynch gazed at +the huge mountains of water sweeping in until he could gaze no more. He +covered his face with his hands to shut out the sight; then went into the +house. + +"Twenty-eight-sixty," he said quietly when he returned. + +In his arm was a coil of small rope. He cut it into two-fathom lengths, giving +one to Raoul and, retaining one for himself, distributed the remainder among +the women with the advice to pick out a tree and climb. + +A light air began to blow out of the northeast, and the fan of it on his cheek +seemed to cheer Raoul up. He could see the Aorai trimming her sheets and +heading off shore, and he regretted that he was not on her. She would get away +at any rate, but as for the atoll--A sea breached across, almost sweeping him +off his feet, and he selected a tree. Then he remembered the barometer and ran +back to the house. He encountered Captain Lynch on the same errand and +together they went in. + +"Twenty-eight-twenty," said the old mariner. "It's going to be fair hell +around here--what was that?" + +The air seemed filled with the rush of something. The house quivered and +vibrated, and they heard the thrumming of a mighty note of sound. The windows +rattled. Two panes crashed; a draught of wind tore in, striking them and +making them stagger. The door opposite banged shut, shattering the latch. The +white door knob crumbled in fragments to the floor. The room's walls bulged +like a gas balloon in the process of sudden inflation. Then came a new sound +like the rattle of musketry, as the spray from a sea struck the wall of the +house. Captain Lyncyh looked at his watch. It was four o'clock. He put on a +coat of pilot cloth, unhooked the barometer, and stowed it away in a capacious +pocket. Again a sea struck the house, with a heavy thud, and the light +building tilted, twisted, quarter around on its foundation, and sank down, its +floor at an angle of ten degrees. + +Raoul went out first. The wind caught him and whirled him away. He noted that +it had hauled around to the east. With a great effort he threw himself on the +sand, crouching and holding his own. Captain Lynch, driven like a wisp of +straw, sprawled over him. Two of the Aorai'S sailors, leaving a cocoanut tree +to which they had been clinging, came to their aid, leaning against the wind +at impossible angles and fighting and clawing every inch of the way. + +The old man's joints were stiff and he could not climb, so the sailors, by +means of short ends of rope tied together, hoisted him up the trunk, a few +feet at a time, till they could make him fast, at the top of the tree, fifty +feet from the ground. Raoul passed his length of rope around the base of an +adjacent tree and stood looking on. The wind was frightful. He had never +dreamed it could blow so hard. A sea breached across the atoll, wetting him to +the knees ere it subsided into the lagoon. The sun had disappeared, and a +lead-colored twilight settled down. A few drops of rain, driving horizontally, +struck him. The impact was like that of leaden pellets. A splash of salt spray +struck his face. It was like the slap of a man's hand. His cheeks stung, and +involuntary tears of pain were in his smarting eyes. Several hundred natives +had taken to the trees, and he could have laughed at the bunches of human +fruit clustering in the tops. Then, being Tahitian-born, he doubled his body +at the waist, clasped the trunk of his tree with his hands, pressed the soles +of his feet against the near surface of the trunk, and began to walk up the +tree. At the top he found two women, two children, and a man. One little girl +clasped a housecat in her arms. + +From his eyrie he waved his hand to Captain Lynch, and that doughty patriarch +waved back. Raoul was appalled at the sky. It had approached much nearer--in +fact, it seemed just over his head; and it had turned from lead to black. Many +people were still on the ground grouped about the bases of the trees and +holding on. Several such clusters were praying, and in one the Mormon +missionary was exhorting. A weird sound, rhythmical, faint as the faintest +chirp of a far cricket, enduring but for a moment, but in the moment +suggesting to him vaguely the thought of heaven and celestial music, came to +his ear. He glanced about him and saw, at the base of another tree, a large +cluster of people holding on by ropes and by one another. He could see their +faces working and their lips moving in unison. No sound came to him, but he +knew that they were singing hymns. + +Still the wind continued to blow harder. By no conscious process could he +measure it, for it had long since passed beyond all his experience of wind; +but he knew somehow, nevertheless, that it was blowing harder. Not far away a +tree was uprooted, flinging its load of human beings to the ground. A sea +washed across the strip of sand, and they were gone. Things were happening +quickly. He saw a brown shoulder and a black head silhouetted against the +churning white of the lagoon. The next instant that, too, had vanished. Other +trees were going, falling and criss-crossing like matches. He was amazed at +the power of the wind. His own tree was swaying perilously, one woman was +wailing and clutching the little girl, who in turn still hung on to the cat. + +The man, holding the other child, touched Raoul's arm and pointed. He looked +and saw the Mormon church careering drunkenly a hundred feet away. It had been +torn from its foundations, and wind and sea were heaving and shoving it toward +the lagoon. A frightful wall of water caught it, tilted it, and flung it +against half a dozen cocoanut trees. The bunches of human fruit fell like ripe +cocoanuts. The subsiding wave showed them on the ground, some lying +motionless, others squirming and writhing. They reminded him strangely of +ants. He was not shocked. He had risen above horror. Quite as a matter of +course he noted the succeeding wave sweep the sand clean of the human +wreckage. A third wave, more colossal than any he had yet seen, hurled the +church into the lagoon, where it floated off into the obscurity to leeward, +half-submerged, reminding him for all the world of a Noah's ark. + +He looked for Captain Lynch's house, and was surprised to find it gone. Things +certainly were happening quickly. He noticed that many of the people in the +trees that still held had descended to the ground. The wind had yet again +increased. His own tree showed that. It no longer swayed or bent over and +back. Instead, it remained practically stationary, curved in a rigid angle +from the wind and merely vibrating. But the vibration was sickening. It was +like that of a tuning-fork or the tongue of a jew's-harp. It was the rapidity +of the vibration that made it so bad. Even though its roots held, it could not +stand the strain for long. Something would have to break. + +Ah, there was one that had gone. He had not seen it go, but there it stood, +the remnant, broken off half-way up the trunk. One did not know what happened +unless he saw it. The mere crashing of trees and wails of human despair +occupied no place in that mighty volume of sound. He chanced to be looking in +Captain Lynch's direction when it happened. He saw the trunk of the tree, +half-way up, splinter and part without noise. The head of the tree, with three +sailors of the Aorai and the old captain sailed off over the lagoon. It did +not fall to the ground, but drove through the air like a piece of chaff. For a +hundred yards he followed its flight, when it struck the water. He strained +his eyes, and was sure that he saw Captain Lynch wave farewell. + +Raoul did not wait for anything more. He touched the native and made signs to +descend to the ground. The man was willing, but his women were paralayzed from +terror, and he elected to remain with them. Raoul passed his rope around the +tree and slid down. A rush of salt water went over his head. He held his +breath and clung desperately to the rope. The water subsided, and in the +shelter of the trunk he breathed once more. He fastened the rope more +securely, and then was put under by another sea. One of the women slid down +and joined him, the native remaining by the other woman, the two children, and +the cat. + +The supercargo had noticed how the groups clinging at the bases of the other +trees continually diminished. Now he saw the process work out alongside him. +It required all his strength to hold on, and the woman who had joined him was +growing weaker. Each time he emerged from a sea he was surprised to find +himself still there, and next, surprised to find the woman still there. At +last he emerged to find himself alone. He looked up. The top of the tree had +gone as well. At half its original height, a splintered end vibrated. He was +safe. The roots still held, while the tree had been shorn of its windage. He +began to climb up. He was so weak that he went slowly, and sea after sea +caught him before he was above them. Then he tied himself to the trunk and +stiffened his soul to face the night and he knew not what. + +He felt very lonely in the darkness. At times it seemed to him that it was the +end of the world and that he was the last one left alive. Still the wind +increased. Hour after hour it increased. By what he calculated was eleven +o'clock, the wind had become unbelievable. It was a horrible, monstrous thing, +a screaming fury, a wall that smote and passed on but that continued to smite +and pass on--a wall without end. It seemed to him that he had become light and +ethereal; that it was he that was in motion; that he was being driven with +inconceivable velocity through unending solidness. The wind was no longer air +in motion. It had become substantial as water or quicksilver. He had a +feeling that he could reach into it and tear it out in chunks as one might do +with the meat in the carcass of a steer; that he could seize hold of the wind +and hang on to it as a man might hang on to the face of a cliff. + +The wind strangled him. He could not face it and breathe, for it rushed in +through his mouth and nostrils, distending his lungs like bladders. At such +moments it seemed to him that his body was being packed and swollen with solid +earth. Only by pressing his lips to the trunk of the tree could he breathe. +Also, the ceaseless impact of the wind exhausted him. Body and brain became +wearied. He no longer observed, no longer thought, and was but semiconscious. +One idea constituted his consciousness: SO THIS WAS A HURRICANE. That one idea +persisted irregularly. It was like a feeble flame that flickered occasionally. +From a state of stupor he would return to it--SO THIS WAS A HURRICANE. Then +he would go off into another stupor. + +The height of the hurricane endured from eleven at night till three in the +morning, and it was at eleven that the tree in which clung Mapuhi and his +women snapped off. Mapuhi rose to the surface of the lagoon, still clutching +his daughter Ngakura. Only a South Sea islander could have lived in such a +driving smother. The pandanus tree, to which he attached himself, turned over +and over in the froth and churn; and it was only by holding on at times and +waiting, and at other times shifting his grips rapidly, that he was able to +get his head and Ngakura's to the surface at intervals sufficiently near +together to keep the breath in them. But the air was mostly water, what with +flying spray and sheeted rain that poured along at right angles to the +perpendicular. + +It was ten miles across the lagoon to the farther ring of sand. Here, tossing +tree trunks, timbers, wrecks of cutters, and wreckage of houses, killed nine +out of ten of the miserable beings who survived the passage of the lagoon. +Half-drowned, exhausted, they were hurled into this mad mortar of the elements +and battered into formless flesh. But Mapuhi was fortunate. His chance was the +one in ten; it fell to him by the freakage of fate. He emerged upon the sand, +bleeding from a score of wounds. + +Ngakura's left arm was broken; the fingers of her right hand were crushed; and +cheek and forehead were laid open to the bone. He clutched a tree that yet +stood, and clung on, holding the girl and sobbing for air, while the waters of +the lagoon washed by knee-high and at times waist-high. + +At three in the morning the backbone of the hurricane broke. By five no more +than a stiff breeze was blowing. And by six it was dead calm and the sun was +shining. The sea had gone down. On the yet restless edge of the lagoon, Mapuhi +saw the broken bodies of those that had failed in the landing. Undoubtedly +Tefara and Nauri were among them. He went along the beach examining them, and +came upon his wife, lying half in and half out of the water. He sat down and +wept, making harsh animal noises after the manner of primitive grief. Then she +stirred uneasily, and groaned. He looked more closely. Not only was she alive, +but she was uninjured. She was merely sleeping. Hers also had been the one +chance in ten. + +Of the twelve hundred alive the night before but three hundred remained. The +mormon missionary and a gendarme made the census. The lagoon was cluttered +with corpses. Not a house nor a hut was standing. In the whole atoll not two +stones remained one upon another. One in fifty of the cocoanut palms still +stood, and they were wrecks, while on not one of them remained a single nut. + +There was no fresh water. The shallow wells that caught the surface seepage of +the rain were filled with salt. Out of the lagoon a few soaked bags of flour +were recovered. The survivors cut the hearts out of the fallen cocoanut trees +and ate them. Here and there they crawled into tiny hutches, made by +hollowing out the sand and covering over with fragments of metal roofing. The +missionary made a crude still, but he could not distill water for three +hundred persons. By the end of the second day, Raoul, taking a bath in the +lagoon, discovered that his thirst was somewhat relieved. He cried out the +news, and thereupon three hundred men, women, and children could have been +seen, standing up to their necks in the lagoon and trying to drink water in +through their skins. Their dead floated about them, or were stepped upon where +they still lay upon the bottom. On the third day the people buried their dead +and sat down to wait for the rescue steamers. + +In the meantime, Nauri, torn from her family by the hurricane, had been swept +away on an adventure of her own. Clinging to a rough plank that wounded and +bruised her and that filled her body with splinters, she was thrown clear over +the atoll and carried away to sea. Here, under the amazing buffets of +mountains of water, she lost her plank. She was an old woman nearly sixty; but +she was Paumotan-born, and she had never been out of sight of the sea in her +life. Swimming in the darkness, strangling, suffocating, fighting for air, she +was struck a heavy blow on the shoulder by a cocoanut. On the instant her plan +was formed, and she seized the nut. In the next hour she captured seven more. +Tied together, they formed a life-buoy that preserved her life while at the +same time it threatened to pound her to a jelly. She was a fat woman, and she +bruised easily; but she had had experience of hurricanes, and while she prayed +to her shark god for protection from sharks, she waited for the wind to break. +But at three o'clock she was in such a stupor that she did not know. Nor did +she know at six o'clock when the dead calm settled down. She was shocked into +consciousness when she was thrown upon the sand. She dug in with raw and +bleeding hands and feet and clawed against the backwash until she was beyond +the reach of the waves. + +She knew where she was. This land could be no other than the tiny islet of +Takokota. It had no lagoon. No one lived upon it. + +Hikueru was fifteen miles away. She could not see Hikueru, but she knew that +it lay to the south. The days went by, and she lived on the cocoanuts that had +kept her afloat. They supplied her with drinking water and with food. But she +did not drink all she wanted, nor eat all she wanted. Rescue was +problematical. She saw the smoke of the rescue steamers on the horizon, but +what steamer could be expected to come to lonely, uninhabited Takokota? + +From the first she was tormented by corpses. The sea persisted in flinging +them upon her bit of sand, and she persisted, until her strength failed, in +thrusting them back into the sea where the sharks tore at them and devoured +them. When her strength failed, the bodies festooned her beach with ghastly +horror, and she withdrew from them as far as she could, which was not far. + +By the tenth day her last cocoanut was gone, and she was shrivelling from +thirst. She dragged herself along the sand, looking for cocoanuts. It was +strange that so many bodies floated up, and no nuts. Surely, there were more +cocoanuts afloat than dead men! She gave up at last, and lay exhausted. The +end had come. Nothing remained but to wait for death. + +Coming out of a stupor, she became slowly aware that she was gazing at a patch +of sandy-red hair on the head of a corpse. The sea flung the body toward her, +then drew it back. It turned over, and she saw that it had no face. Yet there +was something familiar about that patch of sandy-red hair. An hour passed. She +did not exert herself to make the identification. She was waiting to die, and +it mattered little to her what man that thing of horror once might have been. + +But at the end of the hour she sat up slowly and stared at the corpse. An +unusually large wave had thrown it beyond the reach of the lesser waves. Yes, +she was right; that patch of red hair could belong to but one man in the +Paumotus. It was Levy, the German Jew, the man who had bought the pearl and +carried it away on the Hira. Well, one thing was evident: The Hira had been +lost. The pearl buyer's god of fishermen and thieves had gone back on him. + +She crawled down to the dead man. His shirt had been torn away, and she could +see the leather money belt about his waist. She held her breath and tugged at +the buckles. They gave easier than she had expected, and she crawled hurriedly +away across the sand, dragging the belt after her. Pocket after pocket she +unbuckled in the belt and found empty. Where could he have put it? In the last +pocket of all she found it, the first and only pearl he had bought on the +voyage. She crawled a few feet farther, to escape the pestilence of the belt, +and examined the pearl. It was the one Mapuhi had found and been robbed of by +Toriki. She weighed it in her hand and rolled it back and forth caressingly. +But in it she saw no intrinsic beauty. What she did see was the house Mapuhi +and Tefara and she had builded so carefully in their minds. Each time she +looked at the pearl she saw the house in all its details, including the +octagon-drop-clock on the wall. That was something to live for. + +She tore a strip from her ahu and tied the pearl securely about her neck. Then +she went on along the beach, panting and groaning, but resolutely seeking for +cocoanuts. Quickly she found one, and, as she glanced around, a second. She +broke one, drinking its water, which was mildewy, and eating the last particle +of the meat. A little later she found a shattered dugout. Its outrigger was +gone, but she was hopeful, and, before the day was out, she found the +outrigger. Every find was an augury. The pearl was a talisman. Late in the +afternoon she saw a wooden box floating low in the water. When she dragged it +out on the beach its contents rattled, and inside she found ten tins of +salmon. She opened one by hammering it on the canoe. When a leak was started, +she drained the tin. After that she spent several hours in extracting the +salmon, hammering and squeezing it out a morsel at a time. + +Eight days longer she waited for rescue. In the meantime she fastened the +outrigger back on the canoe, using for lashings all the cocoanut fibre she +could find, and also what remained of her ahu. The canoe was badly cracked, +and she could not make it water-tight; but a calabash made from a cocoanut she +stored on board for a bailer. She was hard put for a paddle. With a piece of +tin she sawed off all her hair close to the scalp. Out of the hair she braided +a cord; and by means of the cord she lashed a three-foot piece of broom handle +to a board from the salmon case. + +She gnawed wedges with her teeth and with them wedged the lashing. + +On the eighteenth day, at midnight, she launched the canoe through the surf +and started back for Hikueru. She was an old woman. Hardship had stripped her +fat from her till scarcely more than bones and skin and a few stringy muscles +remained. The canoe was large and should have been paddled by three strong +men. + +But she did it alone, with a make-shift paddle. Also, the canoe leaked badly, +and one-third of her time was devoted to bailing. By clear daylight she +looked vainly for Hikueru. Astern, Takokota had sunk beneath the sea rim. The +sun blazed down on her nakedness, compelling her body to surrender its +moisture. Two tins of salmon were left, and in the course of the day she +battered holes in them and drained the liquid. She had no time to waste in +extracting the meat. A current was setting to the westward, she made westing +whether she made southing or not. + +In the eary afternoon, standing upright in the canoe, she sighted Hikueru Its +wealth of cocoanut palms was gone. Only here and there, at wide intervals, +could she see the ragged remnants of trees. The sight cheered her. She was +nearer than she had thought. The current was setting her to the westward. She +bore up against it and paddled on. The wedges in the paddle lashing worked +loose, and she lost much time, at frequent intervals, in driving them tight. +Then there was the bailing. One hour in three she had to cease paddling in +order to bail. And all the time she driftd to the westward. + +By sunset Hikueru bore southeast from her, three miles away. There was a full +moon, and by eight o'clock the land was due east and two miles away. She +struggled on for another hour, but the land was as far away as ever. She was +in the main grip of the current; the canoe was too large; the paddle was too +inadequate; and too much of her time and strength was wasted in bailing. +Besides, she was very weak and growing weaker. Despite her efforts, the canoe +was drifting off to the westward. + +She breathed a prayer to her shark god, slipped over the side, and began to +swim. She was actually refreshed by the water, and quickly left the canoe +astern. At the end of an hour the land was perceptibly nearer. Then came her +fright. Right before her eyes, not twenty feet away, a large fin cut the +water. She swam steadily toward it, and slowly it glided away, curving off +toward the right and circling around her. She kept her eyes on the fin and +swam on. When the fin disappeared, she lay face downward in the water and +watched. When the fin reappeared she resumed her swimming. The monster was +lazy--she could see that. Without doubt he had been well fed since the +hurricane. Had he been very hungry, she knew he would not have hesitated from +making a dash for her. He was fifteen feet long, and one bite, she knew, could +cut her in half. + +But she did not have any time to waste on him. Whether she swam or not, the +current drew away from the land just the same. A half hour went by, and the +shark began to grow bolder. Seeing no harm in her he drew closer, in narrowing +circles, cocking his eyes at her impudently as he slid past. Sooner or later, +she knew well enough, he would get up sufficient courage to dash at her. She +resolved to play first. It was a desperate act she meditated. She was an old +woman, alone in the sea and weak from starvation and hardship; and yet she, in +the face of this sea tiger, must anticipate his dash by herself dashing at +him. She swam on, waiting her chance. At last he passed languidly by, barely +eight feet away. She rushed at him suddenly, feigning that she was attacking +him. He gave a wild flirt of his tail as he fled away, and his sandpaper hide, +striking her, took off her skin from elbow to shoulder. He swam rapidly, in a +widening circle, and at last disappeared. + +In the hole in the sand, covered over by fragments of metal roofing, Mapuhi +and Tefara lay disputing. + +"If you had done as I said," charged Tefara, for the thousandth time, "and +hidden the pearl and told no one, you would have it now." + +"But Huru-Huru was with me when I opened the shell--have I not told you so +times and times and times without end?" + +"And now we shall have no house. Raoul told me today that if you had not sold +the pearl to Toriki--" + +"I did not sell it. Toriki robbed me." + +"--that if you had not sold the pearl, he would give you five thousand French +dollars, which is ten thousand Chili." + +"He has been talking to his mother," Mapuhi explained. "She has an eye for a +pearl." + +"And now the pearl is lost," Tefara complained. + +"It paid my debt with Toriki. That is twelve hundred I have made, anyway." + +"Toriki is dead," she cried. "They have heard no word of his schooner. She was +lost along with the Aorai and the Hira. Will Toriki pay you the three hundred +credit he promised? No, because Toriki is dead. And had you found no pearl, +would you today owe Toriki the twelve hundred? No, because Toriki is dead, and +you cannot pay dead men." + +"But Levy did not pay Toriki," Mapuhi said. "He gave him a piece of paper that +was good for the money in Papeete; and now Levy is dead and cannot pay; and +Toriki is dead and the paper lost with him, and the pearl is lost with Levy. +You are right, Tefara. I have lost the pearl, and got nothing for it. Now let +us sleep." + +He held up his hand suddenly and listened. From without came a noise, as of +one who breathed heavily and with pain. A hand fumbled against the mat that +served for a door. + +"Who is there?" Mapuhi cried. + +"Nauri," came the answer. "Can you tell me where is my son, Mapuhi?" + +Tefara screamed and gripped her husband's arm. + +"A ghost! she chattered. "A ghost!" + +Mapuhi's face was a ghastly yellow. He clung weakly to his wife. + +"Good woman," he said in faltering tones, striving to disguise his vice, "I +know your son well. He is living on the east side of the lagoon." + +From without came the sound of a sigh. Mapuhi began to feel elated. He had +fooled the ghost. + +"But where do you come from, old woman?" he asked. + +"From the sea," was the dejected answer. + +"I knew it! I knew it!" screamed Tefara, rocking to and fro. + +"Since when has Tefara bedded in a strange house?" came Nauri's voice through +the matting. + +Mapuhi looked fear and reproach at his wife. It was her voice that had +betrayed them. + +"And since when has Mapuhi, my son, denied his old mother?" the voice went on. + +"No, no, I have not--Mapuhi has not denied you," he cried. "I am not Mapuhi. +He is on the east end of the lagoon, I tell you." + +Ngakura sat up in bed and began to cry. The matting started to shake. + +"What are you doing?" Mapuhi demanded. + +"I am coming in," said the voice of Nauri. + +One end of the matting lifted. Tefara tried to dive under the blankets, but +Mapuhi held on to her. He had to hold on to something. Together, struggling +with each other, with shivering bodies and chattering teeth, they gazed with +protruding eyes at the lifting mat. They saw Nauri, dripping with sea water, +without her ahu, creep in. They rolled over backward from her and fought for +Ngakura's blanket with which to cover their heads. + +"You might give your old mother a drink of water," the ghost said plaintively. + +"Give her a drink of water," Tefara commanded in a shaking voice. + +"Give her a drink of water," Mapuhi passed on the command to Ngakura. + +And together they kicked out Ngakura from under the blanket. A minute later, +peeping, Mapuhi saw the ghost drinking. When it reached out a shaking hand and +laid it on his, he felt the weight of it and was convinced that it was no +ghost. Then he emerged, dragging Tefara after him, and in a few minutes all +were listening to Nauri's tale. And when she told of Levy, and dropped the +pearl into Tefara's hand, even she was reconciled to the reality of her +mother-in-law. + +"In the morning," said Tefara, "you will sell the pearl to Raoul for five +thousand French." + +"The house?" objected Nauri. + +"He will build the house," Tefara answered. "He ways it will cost four +thousand French. Also will he give one thousand French in credit, which is two +thousand Chili." + +"And it will be six fathoms long?" Nauri queried. + +"Ay," answered Mapuhi, "six fathoms." + +"And in the middle room will be the octagon-drop-clock?" + +"Ay, and the round table as well." + +"Then give me something to eat, for I am hungry," said Nauri, complacently. +"And after that we will sleep, for I am weary. And tomorrow we will have more +talk about the house before we sell the pearl. It will be better if we take +the thousand French in cash. Money is ever better than credit in buying goods +from the traders." + + + +THE WHALE TOOTH + +It was in the early days in Fiji, when John Starhurst arose in the mission +house at Rewa Village and announced his intention of carrying the gospel +throughout all Viti Levu. Now Viti Levu means the "Great Land," it being the +largest island in a group composed of many large islands, to say nothing of +hundreds of small ones. Here and there on the coasts, living by most +precarious tenure, was a sprinkling of missionaries, traders, bche-de-mer +fishers, and whaleship deserters. The smoke of the hot ovens arose under their +windows, and the bodies of the slain were dragged by their doors on the way to +the feasting. + +The Lotu, or the Worship, was progressing slowly, and, often, in crablike +fashion. Chiefs, who announced themselves Christians and were welcomed into +the body of the chapel, had a distressing habit of backsliding in order to +partake of the flesh of some favorite enemy. Eat or be eaten had been the law +of the land; and eat or be eaten promised to remain the law of the land for a +long time to come. There were chiefs, such as Tanoa, Tuiveikoso, and +Tuikilakila, who had literally eaten hundreds of their fellow men. But among +these gluttons Ra Undreundre ranked highest. Ra Undreundre lived at Takiraki. +He kept a register of his gustatory exploits. A row of stones outside his +house marked the bodies he had eaten. This row was two hundred and thirty +paces long, and the stones in it numbered eight hundred and seventy-two. Each +stone represented a body. The row of stones might have been longer, had not Ra +Undreundre unfortunately received a spear in the small of his back in a bush +skirmish on Somo Somo and been served up on the table of Naungavuli, whose +mediocre string of stones numbered only forty-eight. + +The hard-worked, fever-stricken missionaries stuck doggedly to their task, at +times despairing, and looking forward for some special manifestation, some +outburst of Pentecostal fire that would bring a glorious harvest of souls. But +cannibal Fiji had remained obdurate. The frizzle-headed man-eaters were loath +to leave their fleshpots so long as the harvest of human carcases was +plentiful. Sometimes, when the harvest was too plentiful, they imposed on the +missionaries by letting the word slip out that on such a day there would be a +killing and a barbecue. Promptly the missionaries would buy the lives of the +victims with stick tobacco, fathoms of calico, and quarts of trade beads. +Natheless the chiefs drove a handsome trade in thus disposing of their surplus +live meat. Also, they could always go out and catch more. + +It was at this juncture that John Starhurst proclaimed that he would carry the +Gospel from coast to coast of the Great Land, and that he would begin by +penetrating the mountain fastnesses of the headwaters of the Rewa River. His +words were received with consternation. + +The native teachers wept softly. His two fellow missionaries strove to +dissuade him. The King of Rewa warned him that the mountain dwellers would +surely kai-kai him--kai-kai meaning "to eat"--and that he, the King of Rewa, +having become Lotu, would be put to the necessity of going to war with the +mountain dwellers. That he could not conquer them he was perfectly aware. +That they might come down the river and sack Rewa Village he was likewise +perfectly aware. But what was he to do? If John Starhurst persisted in going +out and being eaten, there would be a war that would cost hundreds of lives. + +Later in the day a deputation of Rewa chiefs waited upon John Starhurst. He +heard them patiently, and argued patiently with them, though he abated not a +whit from his purpose. To his fellow missionaries he explained that he was not +bent upon martyrdom; that the call had come for him to carry the Gospel into +Viti Levu, and that he was merely obeying the Lord's wish. + +To the traders who came and objected most strenuously of all, he said: "Your +objections are valueless. They consist merely of the damage that may be done +your businesses. You are interested in making money, but I am interested in +saving souls. The heathen of this dark land must be saved." + +John Starhurst was not a fanatic. He would have been the first man to deny the +imputation. He was eminently sane and practical. + +He was sure that his mission would result in good, and he had private visions +of igniting the Pentecostal spark in the souls of the mountaineers and of +inaugurating a revival that would sweep down out of the mountains and across +the length and breadth of the Great Land from sea to sea and to the isles in +the midst of the sea. There were no wild lights in his mild gray eyes, but +only calm resolution and an unfaltering trust in the Higher Power that was +guiding him. + +One man only he found who approved of his project, and that was Ra Vatu, who +secretly encouraged him and offered to lend him guides to the first foothills. +John Starhurst, in turn, was greatly pleased by Ra Vatu's conduct. From an +incorrigible heathen, with a heart as black as his practices, Ra Vatu was +beginning to emanate light. He even spoke of becoming Lotu. True, three years +before he had expressed a similar intention, and would have entered the church +had not John Starhurst entered objection to his bringing his four wives along +with him. Ra Vatu had had economic and ethical objections to monogamy. +Besides, the missionary's hair-splitting objection had offended him; and, to +prove that he was a free agent and a man of honor, he had swung his huge war +club over Starhurst's head. Starhurst had escaped by rushing in under the club +and holding on to him until help arrived. But all that was now forgiven and +forgotten. Ra Vatu was coming into the church, not merely as a converted +heathen, but as a converted polygamist as well. He was only waiting, he +assured Starhurst, until his oldest wife, who was very sick, should die. + +John Starhurst journeyed up the sluggish Rewa in one of Ra Vatu's canoes. This +canoe was to carry him for two days, when, the head of navigation reached, it +would return. Far in the distance, lifted into the sky, could be seen the +great smoky mountains that marked the backbone of the Great Land. All day John +Starhurst gazed at them with eager yearning. + +Sometimes he prayed silently. At other times he was joined in prayer by Narau, +a native teacher, who for seven years had been Lotu, ever since the day he had +been saved from the hot oven by Dr. James Ellery Brown at the trifling expense +of one hundred sticks of tobacco, two cotton blankets, and a large bottle of +painkiller. At the last moment, after twenty hours of solitary supplication +and prayer, Narau's ears had heard the call to go forth with John Starhurst on +the mission to the mountains. + +"Master, I will surely go with thee," he had announced. + +John Starhurst had hailed him with sober delight. Truly, the Lord was with him +thus to spur on so broken-spirited a creature as Narau. + +"I am indeed without spirit, the weakest of the Lord's vessels," Narau +explained, the first day in the canoe. + +"You should have faith, stronger faith," the missionary chided him. + +Another canoe journeyed up the Rewa that day. But it journeyed an hour astern, +and it took care not to be seen. This canoe was also the property of Ra Vatu. +In it was Erirola, Ra Vatu's first cousin and trusted henchman; and in the +small basket that never left his hand was a whale tooth. It was a magnificent +tooth, fully six inches long, beautifully proportioned, the ivory turned +yellow and purple with age. This tooth was likewise the property of Ra Vatu; +and in Fiji, when such a tooth goes forth, things usually happen. For this is +the virtue of the whale tooth: Whoever accepts it cannot refuse the request +that may accompany it or follow it. The request may be anything from a human +life to a tribal alliance, and no Fijian is so dead to honor as to deny the +request when once the tooth has been accepted. Sometimes the request hangs +fire, or the fulfilment is delayed, with untoward consequences. + +High up the Rewa, at the village of a chief, Mongondro by name, John Starhurst +rested at the end of the second day of the journey. In the morning, attended +by Narau, he expected to start on foot for the smoky mountains that were now +green and velvety with nearness. Mongondro was a sweet-tempered, mild-mannered +little old chief, short-sighted and afflicted with elephantiasis, and no +longer inclined toward the turbulence of war. He received the missionary with +warm hospitality, gave him food from his own table, and even discussed +religious matters with him. Mongondro was of an inquiring bent of mind, and +pleased John Starhurst greatly by asking him to account for the existence and +beginning of things. When the missionary had finished his summary of the +Creation according to Genesis, he saw that Mongondro was deeply affected. The +little old chief smoked silently for some time. Then he took the pipe from +his mouth and shook his head sadly. + +"It cannot be," he said. "I, Mongondro, in my youth, was a good workman with +the adze. Yet three months did it take me to make a canoe--a small canoe, a +very small canoe. And you say that all this land and water was made by one +man--" + +"Nay, was made by one God, the only true God," the missinary interrupted. + +"It is the same thing," Mongondro went on, "that all the land and all the +water, the trees, the fish, and bush and mountains, the sun, the moon, and the +stars, were made in six days! No, no. I tell you that in my youth I was an +able man, yet did it require me three months for one small canoe. It is a +story to frighten children with; but no man can believe it." + +"I am a man," the missionary said. + +"True, you are a man. But it is not given to my dark understanding to know +what you believe." + +"I tell you, I do believe that everything was made in six days." + +"So you say, so you say," the old cannibal murmured soothingly. + +It was not until after John Starhurst and Narau had gone off to bed that +Erirola crept into the chief's house, and, after diplomatic speech, handed the +whale tooth to Mongondro. + +The old chief held the tooth in his hands for a long time. It was a beautiful +tooth, and he yearned for it. Also, he divined the request that must accompany +it. "No, no; whale teeth were beautiful," and his mouth watered for it, but he +passed it back to Erirola with many apologies. + +. . . . . . . . . . . . . . + +In the early dawn John Starhurst was afoot, striding along the bush trail in +his big leather boots, at his heels the faithful Narau, himself at the heels +of a naked guide lent him by Mongondro to show the way to the next village, +which was reached by midday. Here a new guide showed the way. A mile in the +rear plodded Erirola, the whale tooth in the basket slung on his shoulder. For +two days more he brought up the missionary's rear, offering the tooth to the +village chiefs. But village after village refused the tooth. It followed so +quickly the missionary's advent that they divined the request that would be +made, and would have none of it. + +They were getting deep into the mountains, and Erirola took a secret trail, +cut in ahead of the missionary, and reached the stronghold of the Buli of +Gatoka. Now the Buli was unaware of John Starhurst's imminent arrival. Also, +the tooth was beautiful--an extraordinary specimen, while the coloring of it +was of the rarest order. The tooth was presented publicly. The Buli of Gatoka, +seated on his best mat, surrounded by his chief men, three busy fly-brushers +at his back, deigned to receive from the hand of his herald the whale tooth +presented by Ra Vatu and carried into the mountains by his cousin, Erirola. A +clapping of hands went up at the acceptance of the present, the assembled +headman, heralds, and fly-brushers crying aloud in chorus: + +"A! woi! woi! woi! A! woi! woi! woi! A tabua levu! woi! woi! A mudua, mudua, +mudua!' + +"Soon will come a man, a white man," Erirola began, after the proper pause. +"He is a missionary man, and he will come today. Ra Vatu is pleased to desire +his boots. He wishes to present them to his good friend, Mongondro, and it is +in his mind to send them with the feet along in them, for Mongondro is an old +man and his teeth are not good. Be sure, O Buli, that the feet go along in the +boots. As for the rest of him, it may stop here." + +The delight in the whale tooth faded out of the Buli's eyes, and he glanced +about him dubiously. Yet had he already accepted the tooth. + +"A little thing like a missionary does not matter," Erirola prompted. + +"No, a little thing like a missionary does not matter," the Buli answered, +himself again. "Mongondro shall have the boots. Go, you young men, some three +or four of you, and meet the missionary on the trail. Be sure you bring back +the boots as well." + +"It is too late," said Erirola. "Listen! He comes now." + +Breaking through the thicket of brush, John Starhurst, with Narau close on his +heels, strode upon the scene. The famous boots, having filled in wading the +stream, squirted fine jets of water at every step. Starhurst looked about him +with flashing eyes. Upborne by an unwavering trust, untouched by doubt or +fear, he exulted in all he saw. He knew that since the beginning of time he +was the first white man ever to tread the mountain stronghold of Gatoka. + +The grass houses clung to the steep mountain side or overhung the rushing +Rewa. On either side towered a mighty precipice. At the best, three hours of +sunlight penetrated that narrow gorge. No cocoanuts nor bananas were to be +seen, though dense, tropic vegetation overran everything, dripping in airy +festoons from the sheer lips of the precipices and running riot in all the +crannied ledges. At the far end of the gorge the Rewa leaped eight hundred +feet in a single span, while the atmosphere of the rock fortress pulsed to the +rhythmic thunder of the fall. + +From the Buli's house, John Starhurst saw emerging the Buli and his followers. + +"I bring you good tidings," was the missionary's greeting. + +"Who has sent you?" the Buli rejoined quietly. + +"God." + +"It is a new name in Viti Levu," the Buli grinned. "Of what islands, villages, +or passes may he be chief?" + +"He is the chief over all islands, all villages, all passes," John Starhurst +answered solemnly. "He is the Lord over heaven and earth, and I am come to +bring His word to you." + +"Has he sent whale teeth?" was the insolent query. + +"No, but more precious than whale teeth is the--" + +"It is the custom, between chiefs, to send whale teeth," the Buli interrupted. + +"Your chief is either a niggard, or you are a fool, to come empty-handed into +the mountains. Behold, a more generous than you is before you." + +So saying, he showed the whale tooth he had received from Erirola. + +Narau groaned. + +"It is the whale tooth of Ra Vatu," he whispered to Starhurst. "I know it +well. Now are we undone." + +"A gracious thing," the missionary answered, passing his hand through his long +beard and adjusting his glasses. "Ra Vatu has arranged that we should be well +received." + +But Narau groaned again, and backed away from the heels he had dogged so +faithfully. + +"Ra Vatu is soon to become Lotu," Starhurst explained, "and I have come +bringing the Lotu to you." + +"I want none of your Lotu," said the Buli, proudly. "And it is in my mind that +you will be clubbed this day." + +The Buli nodded to one of his big mountaineers, who stepped forward, swinging +a club. Narau bolted into the nearest house, seeking to hide among the woman +and mats; but John Starhurst sprang in under the club and threw his arms +around his executioner's neck. From this point of vantage he proceeded to +argue. He was arguing for his life, and he knew it; but he was neither excited +nor afraid. + +"It would be an evil thing for you to kill me," he told the man. "I have done +you no wrong, nor have I done the Buli wrong." + +So well did he cling to the neck of the one man that they dared not strike +with their clubs. And he continued to cling and to dispute for his life with +those who clamored for his death. + +"I am John Starhurst," he went on calmly. "I have labored in Fiji for three +years, and I have done it for no profit. I am here among you for good. Why +should any man kill me? To kill me will not profit any man." + +The Buli stole a look at the whale tooth. He was well paid for the deed. + +The missionary was surrounded by a mass of naked savages, all struggling to +get at him. The death song, which is the song of the oven, was raised, and his +expostulations could no longer be heard. But so cunningly did he twine and +wreathe his body about his captor's that the death blow could not be struck. +Erirola smiled, and the Buli grew angry. + +"Away with you!" he cried. "A nice story to go back to the coast--a dozen of +you and one missionary, without weapons, weak as a woman, overcoming all of +you." + +"Wait, O Buli," John Starhurst called out from the thick of the scuffle, "and +I will overcome even you. For my weapons are Truth and Right, and no man can +withstand them." + +"Come to me, then," the Buli answered, "for my weapon is only a poor miserable +club, and, as you say, it cannot withstand you." + +The group separated from him, and John Starhurst stood alone, facing the Buli, +who was leaning on an enormous, knotted warclub. + +"Come to me, missionary man, and overcome me," the Buli challenged. + +"Even so will I come to you and overcome you," John Starhurst made answer, +first wiping his spectacles and settling them properly, then beginning his +advance. + +The Buli raised the club and waited. + +"In the first place, my death will profit you nothing," began the argument. + +"I leave the answer to my club," was the Buli's reply. + +And to every point he made the same reply, at the same time watching the +missionary closely in order to forestall that cunning run-in under the lifted +club. Then, and for the first time, John Starhurst knew that his death was at +hand. He made no attempt to run in. Bareheaded, he stood in the sun and prayed +aloud--the mysterious figure of the inevitable white man, who, with Bible, +bullet, or rum bottle, has confronted the amazed savage in his every +stronghold. Even so stood John Starhurst in the rock fortress of the Buli of +Gatoka. + +"Forgive them, for they know not what they do," he prayed. "O Lord! Have mercy +upon Fiji. Have compasssion for Fiji. O Jehovah, hear us for His sake, Thy +Son, whom Thou didst give that through Him all men might also become Thy +children. From Thee we came, and our mind is that to Thee we may return. The +land is dark, O Lord, the land is dark. But Thou art mighty to save. Reach +out Thy hand, O Lord, and save Fiji, poor cannibal Fiji." + +The Buli grew impatient. + +"Now will I answer thee," he muttered, at the same time swinging his club with +both hands. + +Narau, hiding among the women and the mats, heard the impact of the blow and +shuddered. Then the death song arose, and he knew his beloved missionary's +body was being dragged to the oven as he heard the words: + +"Drag me gently. Drag me gently." + +"For I am the champion of my land." + +"Give thanks! Give thanks! Give thanks!" + +Next, a single voice arose out of the din, asking: + +"Where is the brave man?" + +A hundred voices bellowed the answer: + +"Gone to be dragged into the oven and cooked." + +"Where is the coward?" the single voice demanded. + +"Gone to report!" the hundred voices bellowed back. "Gone to report! Gone to +report!" + +Narau groaned in anguish of spirit. The words of the old song were true. He +was the coward, and nothing remained to him but to go and report. + + + +MAUKI + +He weighed one hundred and ten pounds. His hair was kinky and negroid, and he +was black. He was peculiarly black. He was neither blue-black nor +purple-black, but plum-black. His name was Mauki, and he was the son of a +chief. He had three tambos. Tambo is Melanesian for taboo, and is first +cousin to that Polynesian word. Mauki's three tambos were as follows: First, +he must never shake hands with a woman, nor have a woman's hand touch him or +any of his personal belongings; secondly, he must never eat clams nor any food +from a fire in which clams had been cooked; thirdly, he must never touch a +crocodile, nor travel in a canoe that carried any part of a crocodile even if +as large as a tooth. + +Of a different black were his teeeth, which were deep black, or, perhaps +better, LAMP-black. They had been made so in a single night, by his mother, +who had compressed about them a powdered mineral which was dug from the +landslide back of Port Adams. Port Adams is a salt-water village on Malaita, +and Malaita is the most savage island in the Solomons--so savage that no +traders or planters have yet gained a foothold on it; while, from the time of +the earliest bche-de-mer fishers and sandalwood traders down to the latest +labor recruiters equipped with automatic rifles and gasolene engines, scores +of white adventurers have been passed out by tomahawks and soft-nosed Snider +bullets. So Malaita remains today, in the twentieth century, the stamping +ground of the labor recruiters, who farm its coasts for laborers who engage +and contract themselves to toil on the plantations of the neighboring and more +civilized islands for a wage of thirty dollars a year. The natives of those +neighboring and more civilized islands have themselves become too civilized to +work on plantations. + +Mauki's ears were pierced, not in one place, nor two places, but in a couple +of dozen places. In one of the smaller holes he carried a clay pipe. The +larger holes were too large for such use. The bowl of the pipe would have +fallen through. In fact, in the largest hole in each ear he habitually wore +round wooden plugs that were an even four inches in diameter. Roughly +speaking, the circumference of said holes was twelve and one-half inches. +Mauki was catholic in his tastes. In the various smaller holes he carried such +things as empty rifle cartridges, horseshoe nails, copper screws, pieces of +string, braids of sennit, strips of green leaf, and, in the cool of the day, +scarlet hibiscus flowers. From which it will be seen that pockets were not +necessary to his well-being. Besides, pockets were impossible, for his only +wearing apparel consisted of a piece of calico several inches wide. A pocket +knife he wore in his hair, the blade snapped down on a kinky lock. His most +prized possession was the handle of a china cup, which he suspended from a +ring of turtle-shell, which, in turn, was passed through the +partition-cartilage of his nose. + +But in spite of embellishments, Mauki had a nice face. It was really a pretty +face, viewed by any standard, and for a Melanesian it was a remarkably +good-looking face. Its one fault was its lack of strength. It was softly +effeminate, almost girlish. The features were small, regular, and delicate. +The chin was weak, and the mouth was weak. There was no strength nor character +in the jaws, forehead, and nose. In the eyes only could be caught any hint of +the unknown quantities that were so large a part of his make-up and that other +persons could not understand. These unknown quantities were pluck, +pertinacity, fearlessness, imagination, and cunning; and when they found +expression in some consistent and striking action, those about him were +astounded. + +Mauki's father was chief over the village at Port Adams, and thus, by birth a +salt-water man, Mauki was half amphibian. He knew the way of the fishes and +oysters, and the reef was an open book to him. Canoes, also, he knew. He +learned to swim when he was a year old. At seven years he could hold his +breath a full minute and swim straight down to bottom through thirty feet of +water. And at seven years he was stolen by the bushmen, who cannot even swim +and who are afraid of salt water. Thereafter Mauki saw the sea only from a +distance, through rifts in the jungle and from open spaces on the high +mountain sides. He became the slave of old Fanfoa, head chief over a score of +scattered bush-villages on the range-lips of Malaita, the smoke of which, on +calm mornings, is about the only evidence the seafaring white men have of the +teeming interior population. For the whites do not penetrate Malaita. They +tried it once, in the days when the search was on for gold, but they always +left their heads behind to grin from the smoky rafters of the bushmen's huts. + +When Mauki was a young man of seventeen, Fanfoa got out of tobacco. He got +dreadfully out of tobacco. It was hard times in all his villages. He had been +guilty of a mistake. Suo was a harbor so small that a large schooner could not +swing at anchor in it. It was surrounded by mangroves that overhung the deep +water. It was a trap, and into the trap sailed two white men in a small ketch. +They were after recruits, and they possessed much tobacco and trade goods, to +say nothing of three rifles and plenty of ammunition. Now there were no +salt-water men living at Suo, and it was there that the bushmen could come +down to the sea. The ketch did a splendid traffic. It signed on twenty +recruits the first day. Even old Fanfoa signed on. And that same day the score +of new recruits chopped off the two white men's head, killed the boat's crew, +and burned the ketch. Thereafter, and for three months, there was tobacco and +trade goods in plenty and to spare in all the bush villages. Then came the +man-of-war that threw shells for miles into the hills, frightening the people +out of their villages and into the deeper bush. Next the man-of-war sent +landing parties ashore. The villages were all burned, along with the tobacco +and trade stuff. + +The cocoanuts and bananas were chopped down, the taro gardens uprooted, and +the pigs and chickens killed. + +It taught Fanfoa a lesson, but in the meantime he was out of tobacco. Also, +his young men were too frightened to sign on with the recruiting vessels. That +was why Fanfoa ordered his slave, Mauki, to be carried down and signed on for +half a case of tobacco advance, along with knives, axes, calico, and beads, +which he would pay for with his toil on the plantations. Mauki was sorely +frightened when they brought him on board the schooner. He was a lamb led to +the slaughter. White men were ferocious creatures. They had to be, or else +they would not make a practice of venturing along the Malaita coast and into +all harbors, two on a schooner, when each schooner carried from fifteen to +twenty blacks as boat's crew, and often as high as sixty or seventy black +recruits. In addition to this, there was always the danger of the shore +population, the sudden attack and the cutting off of the schooner and all +hands. Truly, white men must be terrible. Besides, they were possessed of such +devil-devils--rifles that shot very rapidly many times, things of iron and +brass that made the schooners go when there was no wind, and boxes that talked +and laughed just as men talked and laughed. + +Ay, and he had heard of one white man whose particular devil-devil was so +powerful that he could take out all his teeth and put them back at will. + +Down into the cabin they took Mauki. On deck, the one white man kept guard +with two revolvers in his belt. In the cabin the other white man sat with a +book before him, in which he inscribed strange marks and lines. He looked at +Mauki as though he had been a pig or a fowl, glanced under the hollows of his +arms, and wrote in the book. Then he held out the writing stick and Mauki just +barely touched it with his hand, in so doing pledging himself to toil for +three years on the plantations of the Moongleam Soap Company. It was not +explained to him that the will of the ferocious white men would be used to +enforce the pledge, and that, behind all, for the same use, was all the power +and all the warships of Great Britain. + +Other blacks there were on board, from unheard-of far places, and when the +white man spoke to them, they tore the long feather from Mauki's hair, cut +that same hair short, and wrapped about his waist a lava-lava of bright yellow +calico. + +After many days on the schooner, and after beholding more land and islands +than he had ever dreamed of, he was landed on New Georgia, and put to work in +the field clearing jungle and cutting cane grass. For the first time he knew +what work was. Even as a slave to Fanfoa he had not worked like this. And he +did not like work. It was up at dawn and in at dark, on two meals a day. And +the food was tiresome. For weeks at a time they were given nothing but sweet +potatoes to eat, and for weeks at a time it would be nothing but rice. He cut +out the cocoanut from the shells day after day; and for long days and weeks he +fed the fires that smoked the copra, till his eyes got sore and he was set to +felling trees. He was a good axe-man, and later he was put in the +bridge-building gang. Once, he was punished by being put in the road-building +gang. At times he served as boat's crew in the whale boats, when they brought +in copra from distant beaches or when the white men went out to dynamite fish. + +Among other things he learned beche-de-mer English, with which he could talk +with all white men, and with all recruits who otherwise would have talked in a +thousand different dialects. Also, he learned certain things about the white +men, principally that they kept their word. If they told a boy he was going to +receive a stick of tobacco, he got it. If they told a boy they would knock +seven bells out of him if he did a certain thing, when he did that thing, +seven bells invariably were knocked out of him. Mauki did not know what seven +bells were, but they occurred in beche-de-mer, and he imagined them to be the +blood and teeth that sometimes accompanied the process of knocking out seven +bells. One other thing he learned: no boy was struck or punished unless he did +wrong. Even when the white men were drunk, as they were frequently, they never +struck unless a rule had been broken. + +Mauki did not like the plantation. He hated work, and he was the son of a +chief. Furthermore, it was ten years since he had been stolen from Port Adams +by Fanfoa, and he was homesick. He was even homesick for the slavery under +Fanfoa. So he ran away. He struck back into the bush, with the idea of working +southward to the beach and stealing a canoe in which to go home to Port Adams. + +But the fever got him, and he was captured and brought back more dead than +alive. + +A second time he ran away, in the company of two Malaita boys. They got down +the coast twenty miles, and were hidden in the hut of a Malaita freeman, who +dwelt in that village. But in the dead of night two white men came, who were +not afraid of all the village people and who knocked seven bells out of the +three runaways, tied them like pigs, and tossed them into the whale boat. But +the man in whose house they had hidden--seven times seven bells must have been +knocked out of him from the way the hair, skin, and teeth flew, and he was +discouraged for the rest of his natural life from harboring runaway laborers. + +For a year Mauki toiled on. Then he was made a house-boy, and had good food +and easy times, with light work in keeping the house clean and serving the +white men with whiskey and beer at all hours of the day and most hours of the +night. He liked it, but he liked Port Adams more. He had two years longer to +serve, but two years were too long for him in the throes of homesickness. He +had grown wiser with his year of service, and, being now a house-boy, he had +opportunity. He had the cleaning of the rifles, and he knew where the key to +the store room was hung. He planned to escape, and one night ten Malaita boys +and one boy from San Cristoval sneaked from the barracks and dragged one of +the whale boats down to the beach. It was Mauki who supplied the key that +opened the padlock on the boat, and it was Mauki who equipped the boat with a +dozen Winchesters, an immense amount of ammunition, a case of dynamite with +detonators and fuse, and ten cases of tobacco. + +The northwest monsoon was blowing, and they fled south in the night time, +hiding by day on detached and uninhabited islets, or dragging their whale boat +into the bush on the large islands. Thus they gained Guadalcanar, skirted +halfway along it, and crossed the Indispensable Straits to Florida Island. It +was here that they killed the San Cristoval boy, saving his head and cooking +and eating the rest of him. The Malaita coast was only twenty miles away, but +the last night a strong current and baffling winds prevented them from gaining +across. Daylight found them still several miles from their goal. But daylight +brought a cutter, in which were two white men, who were not afraid of eleven +Malaita men armed with twelve rifles. Mauki and his companions were carried +back to Tulagi, where lived the great white master of all the white men. And +the great white master held a court, after which, one by one, the runaways +were tied up and given twenty lashes each, and sentenced to a fine of fifteen +dollars. They were sent back to New Georgia, where the white men knocked seven +bells out of them all around and put them to work. But Mauki was no longer +house-boy. He was put in the road-making gang. The fine of fifteen dollars had +been paid by the white men from whom he had run away, and he was told that he +would have to work it out, which meant six months' additional toil. Further, +his share of the stolen tobacco earned him another year of toil. + +Port Adams was now three years and a half away, so he stole a canoe one night, +hid on the islets in Manning Straits, passed through the Straits, and began +working along the eastern coast of Ysabel, only to be captured, two-thirds of +the way along, by the white men on Meringe Lagoon. After a week, he escaped +from them and took to the bush. There were no bush natives on Ysabel, only +salt-water men, who were all Christians. The white men put up a reward of +five-hundred sticks of tobacco, and every time Mauki ventured down to the sea +to steal a canoe he was chased by the salt-water men. Four months of this +passed, when, the reward having been raised to a thousand sticks, he was +caught and sent back to New Georgia and the road-building gang. Now a thousand +sticks are worth fifty dollars, and Mauki had to pay the reward himself, which +required a year and eight months' labor. So Port Adams was now five years +away. + +His homesickness was greater than ever, and it did not appeal to him to settle +down and be good, work out his four years, and go home. The next time, he was +caught in the very act of running away. His case was brought before Mr. +Haveby, the island manager of the Moongleam Soap Company, who adjudged him an +incorrigible. The Company had plantations on the Santa Cruz Islands, hundreds +of miles across the sea, and there it sent its Solomon Islands' incorrigibles. +And there Mauki was sent, though he never arrived. The schooner stopped at +Santa Anna, and in the night Mauki swam ashore, where he stole two rifles and +a case of tobacco from the trader and got away in a canoe to Cristoval. +Malaita was now to the north, fifty or sixty miles away. But when he attempted +the passage, he was caught by a light gale and driven back to Santa Anna, +where the trader clapped him in irons and held him against the return of the +schooner from Santa Cruz. The two rifles the trader recovered, but the case +of tobacco was charged up to Mauki at the rate of another year. The sum of +years he now owed the Company was six. + +On the way back to New Georgia, the schooner dropped anchor in Marau Sound, +which lies at the southeastern extremity of Guadalcanar. Mauki swam ashore +with handcuffs on his wrists and got away to the bush. The schooner went on, +but the Moongleam trader ashore offered a thousand sticks, and to him Mauki +was brought by the bushmen with a year and eight months tacked on to his +account. Again, and before the schooner called in, he got away, this time in a +whale boat accompanied by a case of the trader's tobacco. But a northwest gale +wrecked him upon Ugi, where the Christian natives stole his tobacco and turned +him over to the Moongleam trader who resided there. The tobacco the natives +stole meant another year for him, and the tale was now eight years and a half. + +"We'll send him to Lord Howe," said Mr. Haveby. "Bunster is there, and we'll +let them settle it between them. It will be a case, I imagine, of Mauki +getting Bunster, or Bunster getting Mauki, and good riddance in either event." + +If one leaves Meringe Lagoon, on Ysabel, and steers a course due north, +magnetic, at the end of one hundred and fifty miles he will lift the pounded +coral beaches of Lord Howe above the sea. Lord Howe is a ring of land some +one hundred and fifty miles in circumference, several hundred yards wide at +its widest, and towering in places to a height of ten feet above sea level. +Inside this ring of sand is a mighty lagoon studded with coral patches. Lord +Howe belongs to the Solomons neither geographically nor ethnologically. It is +an atoll, while the Solomons are high islands; and its people and language are +Polynesian, while the inhabitants of the Solomons are Melanesian. + +Lord Howe has been populated by the westward Polynesian drift which continues +to this day, big outrigger canoes being washed upon its beaches by the +southeast trade. That there has been a slight Melanesian drift in the period +of the northwest monsoon, is also evident. + +Nobody ever comes to Lord Howe, or Ontong-Java as it is sometimes called. +Thomas Cook & Son do not sell tickets to it, and tourists do not dream of its +existence. Not even a white missionary has landed on its shore. Its five +thousand natives are as peaceable as they are primitive. Yet they were not +always peaceable. The Sailing Directions speak of them as hostile and +treacherous. But the men who compile the Sailing Directions have never heard +of the change that was worked in the hearts of the inhabitants, who, not many +years ago, cut off a big bark and killed all hands with the exception of the +second mate. The survivor carried the news to his brothers. The captains of +three trading schooners returned with him to Lord Howe. They sailed their +vessels right into the lagoon and proceeded to preach the white man's gospel +that only white men shall kill white men and that the lesser breeds must keep +hands off. The schooners sailed up and down the lagoon, harrying and +destroying. There was no escape from the narrow sand-circle, no bush to which +to flee. The men were shot down at sight, and there was no avoiding being +sighted. The villages were burned, the canoes smashed, the chickens and pigs +killed, and the precious cocoanut trees chopped down. For a month this +continued, when the schooner sailed away; but the fear of the white man had +been seared into the souls of the islanders and never again were they rash +enough to harm one. + +Max Bunster was the one white man on Lord Howe, trading in the pay of the +ubiquitous Moongleam Soap Company. And the Company billeted him on Lord Howe, +because, next to getting rid of him, it was the most out-of-the-way place to +be found. That the Company did not get rid of him was due to the difficulty of +finding another man to take his place. He was a strapping big German, with +something wrong in his brain. Semi-madness would be a charitable statement of +his condition. He was a bully and a coward, and a thrice-bigger savage than +any savage on the island. + +Being a coward, his brutality was of the cowardly order. When he first went +into the Company's employ, he was stationed on Savo. When a consumptive +colonial was sent to take his place, he beat him up with his fists and sent +him off a wreck in the schooner that brought him. + +Mr. Haveby next selected a young Yorkshire giant to relieve Bunster. The +Yorkshire man had a reputation as a bruiser and preferred fighting to eating. +But Bunster wouldn't fight. He was a regular little lamb--for ten days, at the +end of which time the Yorkshire man was prostrated by a combined attack of +dysentery and fever. Then Bunster went for him, among other things getting him +down and jumping on him a score or so of times. Afraid of what would happen +when his victim recovered. Bunster fled away in a cutter to Guvutu, where he +signalized himself by beating up a young Englishman already crippled by a Boer +bullet through both hips. + +Then it was that Mr. Haveby sent Bunster to Lord Howe, the falling-off place. +He celebrated his landing by mopping up half a case of gin and by thrashing +the elderly and wheezy mate of the schooner which had brought him. When the +schooner departed, he called the kanakas down to the beach and challenged them +to throw him in a wrestling bout, promising a case of tobacco to the one who +succeeded. Three kanakas he threw, but was promptly thrown by a fourth, who, +instead of receiving the tobacco, got a bullet through his lungs. + +And so began Bunster's reign on Lord Howe. Three thousand people lived in the +principal village; but it was deserted, even in broad day, when he passed +through. Men, women, and children fled before him. Even the dogs and pigs got +out of the way, while the king was not above hiding under a mat. The two prime +ministers lived in terror of Bunster, who never discussed any moot subject, +but struck out with his fists instead. + +And to Lord Howe came Mauki, to toil for Bunster for eight long years and a +half. There was no escaping from Lord Howe. For better or worse, Bunster and +he were tied together. Bunster weighed two hundred pounds. Mauki weighed one +hundred and ten. Bunster was a degenerate brute. But Mauki was a primitive +savage. While both had wills and ways of their own. + +Mauki had no idea of the sort of master he was to work for. He had had no +warnings, and he had concluded as a matter of course that Bunster would be +like other white men, a drinker of much whiskey, a ruler and a lawgiver who +always kept his word and who never struck a boy undeserved. Bunster had the +advantage. He knew all about Mauki, and gloated over the coming into +possession of him. The last cook was suffering from a broken arm and a +dislocated shoulder, so Bunster made Mauki cook and general house-boy. + +And Mauki soon learned that there were white men and white men. On the very +day the schooner departed he was ordered to buy a chicken from Samisee, the +native Tongan missionary. But Samisee had sailed across the lagoon and would +not be back for three days. Mauki returned with the information. He climbed +the steep stairway (the house stood on piles twelve feet above the sand), and +entered the living room to report. The trader demanded the chicken. Mauki +opened his mouth to explain the missionary's absence. But Bunster did not care +for explanations. He struck out with his fist. The blow caught Mauki on the +mouth and lifted him into the air. Clear through the doorway he flew, across +the narrow veranda, breaking the top railing, and down to the ground. + +His lips were a contused, shapeless mass, and his mouth was full of blood and +broken teeth. + +"That'll teach you that back talk don't go with me," the trader shouted, +purple with rage, peering down at him over the broken railing. + +Mauki had never met a white man like this, and he resolved to walk small and +never offend. He saw the boat boys knocked about, and one of them put in irons +for three days with nothing to eat for the crime of breaking a rowlock while +pulling. Then, too, he heard the gossip of the village and learned why Bunster +had taken a third wife--by force, as was well known. The first and second +wives lay in the graveyard, under the white coral sand, with slabs of coral +rock at head and feet. They had died, it was said, from beatings he had given +them. The third wife was certainly ill-used, as Mauki could see for himself. + +But there was no way by which to avoid offending the white man who seemed +offended with life. When Mauki kept silent, he was struck and called a sullen +brute. When he spoke, he was struck for giving back talk. When he was grave, +Bunster accused him of plotting and gave him a thrashing in advance; and when +he strove to be cheerful and to smile, he was charged with sneering at his +lord and master and given a taste of stick. Bunster was a devil. + +The village would have done for him, had it not remembered the lesson of the +three schooners. It might have done for him anyway, if there had been a bush +to which to flee. As it was, the murder of the white men, of any white man, +would bring a man-of-war that would kill the offenders and chop down the +precious cocoanut trees. Then there were the boat boys, with minds fully made +up to drown him by accident at the first opportunity to capsize the cutter. +Only Bunster saw to it that the boat did not capsize. + +Mauki was of a different breed, and escape being impossible while Bunster +lived, he was resolved to get the white man. The trouble was that he could +never find a chance. Bunster was always on guard. Day and night his revolvers +were ready to hand. He permitted nobody to pass behind his back, as Mauki +learned after having been knocked down several times. Bunster knew that he had +more to fear from the good-natured, even sweet-faced, Malaita boy than from +the entire population of Lord Howe; and it gave added zest to the programme of +torment he was carrying out. And Mauki walked small, accepted his punishments, +and waited. + +All other white men had respected his tambos, but not so Bunster. + +Mauki's weekly allowance of tobacco was two sticks. Bunster passed them to his +woman and ordered Mauki to receive them from her hand. But this could not be, +and Mauki went without his tobacco. In the same way he was made to miss many a +meal, and to go hungry many a day. He was ordered to make chowder out of the +big clams that grew in the lagoon. This he could not do, for clams were tambo. +Six times in succession he refused to touch the clams, and six times he was +knocked senseless. Bunster knew that the boy would die first, but called his +refusal mutiny, and would have killed him had there been another cook to take +his place. + +One of the trader's favorite tricks was to catch Mauki's kinky locks and bat +his head against the wall. Another trick was to catch Mauki unawares and +thrust the live end of a cigar against his flesh. This Bunster called +vaccination, and Mauki was vaccinated a number of times a week. Once, in a +rage, Bunster ripped the cup handle from Mauki's nose, tearing the hole clear +out of the cartilage. + +"Oh, what a mug!" was his comment, when he surveyed the damage he had wrought. + +The skin of a shark is like sandpaper, but the skin of a ray fish is like a +rasp. In the South Seas the natives use it as a wood file in smoothing down +canoes and paddles. Bunster had a mitten made of ray fish skin. The first time +he tried it on Mauki, with one sweep of the hand it fetched the skin off his +back from neck to armpit. Bunster was delighted. He gave his wife a taste of +the mitten, and tried it out thoroughly on the boat boys. The prime ministers +came in for a stroke each, and they had to grin and take it for a joke. + +"Laugh, damn you, laugh!" was the cue he gave. + +Mauki came in for the largest share of the mitten. Never a day passed without +a caress from it. There were times when the loss of so much cuticle kept him +awake at night, and often the half-healed surface was raked raw afresh by the +facetious Mr. Bunster. Mauki continued his patient wait, secure in the +knowledge that sooner or later his time would come. And he knew just what he +was going to do, down to the smallest detail, when the time did come. + +One morning Bunster got up in a mood for knocking seven bells out of the +universe. He began on Mauki, and wound up on Mauki, in the interval knocking +down his wife and hammering all the boat boys. At breakfast he called the +coffee slops and threw the scalding contents of the cup into Mauki's face. By +ten o'clock Bunster was shivering with ague, and half an hour later he was +burning with fever. It was no ordinary attack. It quickly became pernicious, +and developed into black-water fever. The days passed, and he grew weaker and +weaker, never leaving his bed. Mauki waited and watched, the while his skin +grew intact once more. He ordered the boys to beach the cutter, scrub her +bottom, and give her a general overhauling. They thought the order emanated +from Bunster, and they obeyed. But Bunster at the time was lying unconscious +and giving no orders. This was Mauki's chance, but still he waited. + +When the worst was past, and Bunster lay convalescent and conscious, but weak +as a baby, Mauki packed his few trinkets, including the china cup handle, into +his trade box. Then he went over to the village and interviewed the king and +his two prime ministers. + +"This fella Bunster, him good fella you like too much?" he asked. + +They explained in one voice that they liked the trader not at all. The +ministers poured forth a recital of all the indignities and wrongs that had +been heaped upon them. The king broke down and wept. Mauki interrupted rudely. + +"You savve me--me big fella marster my country. You no like m this fella white +marster. Me no like m. Plenty good you put hundred cocoanut, two hundred +cocoanut, three hundred cocoanut along cutter. Him finish, you go sleep m good +fella. Altogether kanaka sleep m good fella. Bime by big fella noise along +house, you no savve hear m that fella noise. You altogether sleep strong fella +too much." + +In like manner Mauki interviewed the boat boys. Then he ordered Bunster's wife +to return to her family house. Had she refused, he would have been in a +quandary, for his tambo would not have permitted him to lay hands on her. + +The house deserted, he entered the sleeping room, where the trader lay in a +doze. Mauki first removed the revolvers, then placed the ray fish mitten on +his hand. Bunster's first warning was a stroke of the mitten that removed the +skin the full length of his nose. + +"Good fella, eh?" Mauki grinned, between two strokes, one of which swept the +forehead bare and the other of which cleaned off one side of his face. "Laugh, +damn you, laugh." + +Mauki did his work throughly, and the kanakas, hiding in their houses, heard +the "big fella noise" that Bunster made and continued to make for an hour or +more. + +When Mauki was done, he carried the boat compass and all the rifles and +ammunition down to the cutter, which he proceeded to ballast with cases of +tobacco. It was while engaged in this that a hideous, skinless thing came out +of the house and ran screaming down the beach till it fell in the sand and +mowed and gibbered under the scorching sun. Mauki looked toward it and +hesitated. Then he went over and removed the head, which he wrapped in a mat +and stowed in the stern locker of the cutter. + +So soundly did the kanakas sleep through that long hot day that they did not +see the cutter run out through the passage and head south, close-hauled on the +southeast trade. Nor was the cutter ever sighted on that long tack to the +shores of Ysabel, and during the tedious head-beat from there to Malaita. He +landed at Port Adams with a wealth of rifles and tobacco such as no one man +had ever possessed before. But he did not stop there. He had taken a white +man's head, and only the bush could shelter him. So back he went to the bush +villages, where he shot old Fanfoa and half a dozen of the chief men, and made +himself the chief over all the villages. When his father died, Mauki's brother +ruled in Port Adams, and joined together, salt-water men and bushmen, the +resulting combination was the strongest of the ten score fighting tribes of +Malaita. + +More than his fear of the British government was Mauki's fear of the +all-powerful Moongleam Soap Company; and one day a message came up to him in +the bush, reminding him that he owed the Company eight and one-half years of +labor. He sent back a favorable answer, and then appeared the inevitable white +man, the captain of the schooner, the only white man during Mauki's reign, who +ventured the bush and came out alive. This man not only came out, but he +brought with him seven hundred and fifty dollars in gold sovereigns--the money +price of eight years and a half of labor plus the cost price of certain rifles +and cases of tobacco. + +Mauki no longer weighs one hundred and ten pounds. His stomach is three times +its former girth, and he has four wives. He has many other things--rifles and +revolvers, the handle of a china cup, and an excellent collection of bushmen's +heads. But more precious than the entire collection is another head, perfectly +dried and cured, with sandy hair and a yellowish beard, which is kept wrapped +in the finest of fibre lava-lavas. When Mauki goes to war with villages beyond +his realm, he invariably gets out this head, and alone in his grass palace, +contemplates it long and solemnly. At such times the hush of death falls on +the village, and not even a pickaninny dares make a noise. The head is +esteemed the most powerful devil-devil on Malaita, and to the possession of it +is ascribed all of Mauki's greatness. + + + +"YAH! YAH! YAH!" + +He was a whiskey-guzzling Scotchman, and he downed his whiskey neat, beginning +with his first tot punctually at six in the morning, and thereafter repeating +it at regular intervals throughout the day till bedtime, which was usually +midnight. He slept but five hours out of the twenty-four, and for the +remaining nineteen hours he was quietly and decently drunk. During the eight +weeks I spent with him on Oolong Atoll, I never saw him draw a sober breath. +In fact, his sleep was so short that he never had time to sober up. It was the +most beautiful and orderly perennial drunk I have ever observed. + +McAllister was his name. He was an old man, and very shaky on his pins. His +hand trembled as with a palsy, especially noticeable when he poured his +whiskey, though I never knew him to spill a drop. He had been twenty-eight +years in Melanesia, ranging from German New Guinea to the German Solomons, and +so thoroughly had he become identified with that portion of the world, that he +habitually spoke in that bastard lingo called "bech-de-mer." Thus, in +conversation with me, SUN HE COME UP meant sunrise; KAI-KAI HE STOP meant that +dinner was served; and BELLY BELONG ME WALK ABOUT meant that he was sick at +his stomach. He was a small man, and a withered one, burned inside and outside +by ardent spirits and ardent sun. He was a cinder, a bit of a clinker of a +man, a little animated clinker, not yet quite cold, that moved stiffly and by +starts and jerks like an automaton. A gust of wind would have blown him away. +He weighed ninety pounds. + +But the immense thing about him was the power with which he ruled. Oolong +Atoll was one hundred and forty miles in circumference. One steered by compass +course in its lagoon. It was populated by five thousand Polynesians, all +strapping men and women, many of them standing six feet in height and weighing +a couple of hundred pounds. Oolong was two hundred and fifty miles from the +nearest land. Twice a year a little schooner called to collect copra. The one +white man on Oolong was McAllister, petty trader and unintermittent guzzler; +and he ruled Oolong and its six thousand savages with an iron hand. He said +come, and they came, go, and they went. They never questioned his will nor +judgment. He was cantankerous as only an aged Scotchman can be, and interfered +continually in their personal affairs. When Nugu, the king's daughter, wanted +to marry Haunau from the other end of the atoll, her father said yes; but +McAllister said no, and the marriage never came off. When the king wanted to +buy a certain islet in the lagoon from the chief priest, McAllister said no. +The king was in debt to the Company to the tune of 180,000 cocoanuts, and +until that was paid he was not to spend a single cocoanut on anything else. + +And yet the king and his people did not love McAllister. In truth, they hated +him horribly, and, to my knowledge, the whole population, with the priests at +the head, tried vainly for three months to pray him to death. The devil-devils +they sent after him were awe-inspiring, but since McAllister did not believe +in devil-devils, they were without power over him. With drunken Scotchmen all +signs fail. They gathered up scraps of food which had touched his lips, an +empty whiskey bottle, a cocoanut from which he had drunk, and even his +spittle, and performed all kinds of deviltries over them. But McAllister lived +on. His health was superb. He never caught fever; nor coughs nor colds; +dysentery passed him by; and the malignant ulcers and vile skin diseases that +attack blacks and whites alike in that climate never fastened upon him. He +must have been so saturated with alcohol as to defy the lodgment of germs. I +used to imagine them falling to the ground in showers of microscopic cinders +as fast as they entered his whiskey-sodden aura. No one loved him, not even +germs, while he loved only whiskey, and still he lived. + +I was puzzled. I could not understand six thousand natives putting up with +that withered shrimp of a tyrant. It was a miracle that he had not died +suddenly long since. Unlike the cowardly Melanesians, the people were +high-stomached and warlike. In the big graveyard, at head and feet of the +graves, were relics of past sanguinary history--blubber-spades, rusty old +bayonets and cutlasses, copper bolts, rudder-irons, harpoons, bomb guns, +bricks that could have come from nowhere but a whaler's trying-out furnace, +and old brass pieces of the sixteenth century that verified the traditions of +the early Spanish navigators. Ship after ship had come to grief on Oolong. Not +thirty years before, the whaler BLENNERDALE, running into the lagoon for +repair, had been cut off with all hands. In similar fashion had the crew of +the GASKET, a sandalwood trader, perished. There was a big French bark, the +TOULON, becalmed off the atoll, which the islanders boarded after a sharp +tussle and wrecked in the Lipau Passage, the captain and a handful of sailors +escaping in the longboat. Then there were the Spanish pieces, which told of +the loss of one of the early explorers. All this, of the vessels named, is a +matter of history, and is to be found in the SOUTH PACIFIC SAILING DIRECTORY. +But that there was other history, unwritten, I was yet to learn. In the +meantime I puzzled why six thousand primitive savages let one degenerate +Scotch despot live. + +One hot afternoon McAllister and I sat on the veranda looking out over the +lagoon, with all its wonder of jeweled colors. At our backs, across the +hundred yards of palm-studded sand, the outer surf roared on the reef. It was +dreadfully warm. We were in four degree south latitude and the sun was +directly overhead, having crossed the Line a few days before on its journey +south. There was no wind--not even a catspaw. The season of the southeast +trade was drawing to an early close, and the northwest monsoon had not yet +begun to blow. + +"They can't dance worth a damn," said McAllister. + +I had happened to mention that the Polynesian dances were superior to the +Papuan, and this McAllister had denied, for no other reason than his +cantankerousness. But it was too not to argue, and I said nothing. Besides, I +had never seen the Oolong people dance. + +"I'll prove it to you," he announced, beckoning to the black New Hanover boy, +a labor recruit, who served as cook and general house servant. "Hey, you, boy, +you tell 'm one fella king come along me." + +The boy departed, and back came the prime minister, perturbed, ill at ease, +and garrulous with apologetic explanation. In short, the king slept, and was +not to be disturbed. + +"King he plenty strong fella sleep," was his final sentence. + +McAllister was in such a rage that the prime minister incontinently fled, to +return with the king himself. They were a magnificent pair, the king +especially, who must have been all of six feet three inches in height. His +features had the eagle-like quality that is so frequently found in those of +the North American Indian. He had been molded and born to rule. His eyes +flashed as he listened, but right meekly he obeyed McAllister's command to +fetch a couple of hundred of the best dancers, male and female, in the +village. And dance they did, for two mortal hours, under that broiling sun. +They did not love him for it, and little he cared, in the end dismissing them +with abuse and sneers. + +The abject servility of those magnificent savages was terrifying. How could it +be? What was the secret of his rule? More and more I puzzled as the days went +by, and though I observed perpetual examples of his undisputed sovereignty, +never a clew was there as to how it was. + +One day I happened to speak of my disappointment in failing to trade for a +beautiful pair of orange cowries. The pair was worth five pounds in Sydney if +it was worth a cent. I had offered two hundred sticks of tobacco to the owner, +who had held out for three hundred. When I casually mentioned the situation, +McAllister immediately sent for the man, took the shells from him, and turned +them over to me. Fifty sticks were all he permitted me to pay for them. The +man accepted the tobacco and seemed overjoyed at getting off so easily. As for +me, I resolved to keep a bridle on my tongue in the future. And still I mulled +over the secret of McAllister's power. I even went to the extent of asking him +directly, but all he did was to cock one eye, look wise, and take another +drink. + +One night I was out fishing in the lagoon with Oti, the man who had been +mulcted of the cowries. Privily, I had made up to him an additional hundred +and fifty sticks, and he had come to regard me with a respect that was almost +veneration, which was curious, seeing that he was an old man, twice my age at +least. + +"What name you fella kanaka all the same pickaninny?" I began on him. "This +fella trader he one fella. You fella kanaka plenty fella too much. You fella +kanaka just like 'm dog--plenty fright along that fella trader. He no eat you, +fella. He no get 'm teeth along him. What name you too much fright?" + +"S'pose plenty fella kanaka kill m?" he asked. + +"He die," I retorted. "You fella kanaka kill 'm plenty fella white man long +time before. What name you fright this fella white man?" + +"Yes, we kill 'm plenty," was his answer. "My word! Any amount! Long time +before. One time, me young fella too much, one big fella ship he stop outside. +Wind he no blow. Plenty fella kanaka we get 'm canoe, plenty fella canoe, we +go catch 'm that fella ship. My word--we catch 'm big fella fight. Two, three +white men shoot like hell. We no fright. We come alongside, we go up side, +plenty fella, maybe I think fifty-ten (five hundred). One fella white Mary +(woman) belong that fella ship. Never before I see 'm white Mary. Bime by +plenty white man finish. One fella skipper he no die. Five fella, six fella +white man no die. Skipper he sing out. Some fella white man he fight. Some +fella white man he lower away boat. After that, all together over the side +they go. Skipper he sling white Mary down. After that they washee (row) strong +fella plenty too much. Father belong me, that time he strong fella. He throw +'m one fella spear. That fella spear he go in one side that white Mary. He no +stop. My word, he go out other side that fella Mary. She finish. Me no +fright. Plenty kanaka too much no fright." + +Old Oti's pride had been touched, for he suddenly stripped down his lava-lava +and showed me the unmistakable scar of a bullet. Before I could speak, his +line ran out suddenly. He checked it and attempted to haul in, but found that +the fish had run around a coral branch. Casting a look of reproach at me for +having beguiled him from his watchfulness, he went over the side, feet first, +turning over after he got under and following his line down to bottom. The +water was ten fathoms. I leaned over and watched the play of his feet, growing +dim and dimmer, as they stirred the wan phosphorescence into ghostly fires. +Ten fathoms--sixty feet--it was nothing to him, an old man, compared with the +value of a hook and line. After what seemed five minutes, though it could not +have been more than a minute, I saw him flaming whitely upward. He broke +surface and dropped a ten pound rock cod into the canoe, the line and hook +intact, the latter still fast in the fish's mouth. + +"It may be," I said remorselessly. "You no fright long ago. You plenty fright +now along that fella trader." + +"Yes, plenty fright," he confessed, with an air of dismissing the subject. For +half an hour we pulled up our lines and flung them out in silence. Then small +fish-sharks began to bite, and after losing a hook apiece, we hauled in and +waited for the sharks to go their way. + +"I speak you true," Oti broke into speech, "then you savve we fright now." + +I lighted up my pipe and waited, and the story that Oti told me in atrocious +bech-de-mer I here turn into proper English. Otherwise, in spirit and order of +narrative, the tale is as it fell from Oti's lips. + +"It was after that that we were very proud. We had fought many times with the +strange white men who live upon the sea, and always we had beaten them. A few +of us were killed, but what was that compared with the stores of wealth of a +thousand thousand kinds that we found on the ships? And then one day, maybe +twenty years ago, or twenty-five, there came a schooner right through the +passage and into the lagoon. It was a large schooner with three masts. She had +five white men and maybe forty boat's crew, black fellows from New Guinea and +New Britain; and she had come to fish beche-de-mer. She lay at anchor across +the lagoon from here, at Pauloo, and her boats scattered out everywhere, +making camps on the beaches where they cured the beche-de-mer. This made them +weak by dividing them, for those who fished here and those on the schooner at +Pauloo were fifty miles apart, and there were others farther away still. + +"Our king and headmen held council, and I was one in the canoe that paddled +all afternoon and all night across the lagoon, bringing word to the people of +Pauloo that in the morning we would attack the fishing camps at the one time +and that it was for them to take the schooner. We who brought the word were +tired with the paddling, but we took part in the attack. On the schooner were +two white men, the skipper and the second mate, with half a dozen black boys. +The skipper with three boys we caught on shore and killed, but first eight of +us the skipper killed with his two revolvers. We fought close together, you +see, at hand grapples. + +"The noise of our fighting told the mate what was happening, and he put food +and water and a sail in the small dingy, which was so small that it was no +more than twelve feet long. We came down upon the schooner, a thousand men, +covering the lagoon with our canoes. Also, we were blowing conch shells, +singing war songs, and striking the sides of the canoes with our paddles. What +chance had one white man and three black boys against us? No chance at all, +and the mate knew it. + +"White men are hell. I have watched them much, and I am an old man now, and I +understand at last why the white men have taken to themselves all the islands +in the sea. It is because they are hell. Here are you in the canoe with me. +You are hardly more than a boy. You are not wise, for each day I tell you many +things you do not know. When I was a little pickaninny, I knew more about fish +and the ways of fish than you know now. I am an old man, but I swim down to +the bottom of the lagoon, and you cannot follow me. What are you good for, +anyway? I do not know, except to fight. I have never seen you fight, yet I +know that you are like your brothers and that you will fight like hell. Also, +you are a fool, like your brothers. You do not know when you are beaten. You +will fight until you die, and then it will be too late to know that you are +beaten. + +"Now behold what this mate did. As we came down upon him, covering the sea and +blowing our conches, he put off from the schooner in the small boat, along +with the three black boys, and rowed for the passage. There again he was a +fool, for no wise man would put out to sea in so small a boat. The sides of it +were not four inches above the water. Twenty canoes went after him, filled +with two hundred young men. We paddled five fathoms while his black boys were +rowing one fathom. He had no chance, but he was a fool. He stood up in the +boat with a rifle, and he shot many times. He was not a good shot, but as we +drew close many of us were wounded and killed. But still he had no chance. + +"I remember that all the time he was smoking a cigar. When we were forty feet +away and coming fast, he dropped the rifle, lighted a stick of dynamite with +the cigar, and threw it at us. He lighted another and another, and threw them +at us very rapidly, many of them. I know now that he must have split the ends +of the fuses and stuck in match heads, because they lighted so quickly. Also, +the fuses were very short. Sometimes the dynamite sticks went off in the air, +but most of them went off in the canoes. And each time they went off in a +canoe, that canoe was finished. Of the twenty canoes, the half were smashed to +pieces. The canoe I was in was so smashed, and likewise the two men who sat +next to me. The dynamite fell between them. The other canoes turned and ran +away. Then that mate yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' at us. Also he went at us again +with his rifle, so that many were killed through the back as they fled away. +And all the time the black boys in the boat went on rowing. You see, I told +you true, that mate was hell. + +"Nor was that all. Before he left the schooner, he set her on fire, and fixed +up all the powder and dynamite so that it would go off at one time. There were +hundreds of us on board, trying to put out the fire, heaving up water from +overside, when the schooner blew up. So that all we had fought for was lost to +us, besides many more of us being killed. Sometimes, even now, in my old age, +I have bad dreams in which I hear that mate yell, Yah! Yah! Yah!' In a voice +of thunder he yells, Yah! Yah! Yah!' But all those in the fishing camps were +killed. + +"The mate went out of the passage in his little boat, and that was the end of +him we made sure, for how could so small a boat, with four men in it, live on +the ocean? A month went by, and then, one morning, between two rain squalls, a +schooner sailed in through our passage and dropped anchor before the village. +The king and the headmen made big talk, and it was agreed that we would take +the schooner in two or three days. In the meantime, as it was our custom +always to appear friendly, we went off to her in canoes, bringing strings of +cocoanuts, fowls, and pigs, to trade. But when we were alongside, many canoes +of us, the men on board began to shoot us with rifles, and as we paddled away +I saw the mate who had gone to sea in the little boat spring upon the rail and +dance and yell, Yah! Yah! Yah!' + +"That afternoon they landed from the schooner in three small boats filled with +white men. They went right through the village, shooting every man they saw. +Also they shot the fowls and pigs. We who were not killed got away in canoes +and paddled out into the lagoon. Looking back, we could see all the houses on +fire. Late in the afternoon we saw many canoes coming from Nihi, which is the +village near the Nihi Passage in the northeast. They were all that were left, +and like us their village had been burned by a second schooner that had come +through Nihi Passage. + +"We stood on in the darkness to the westward for Pauloo, but in the middle of +the night we heard women wailing and then we ran into a big fleet of canoes. +They were all that were left of Pauloo, which likewise was in ashes, for a +third schooner had come in through the Pauloo Passage. You see, that mate, +with his black boys, had not been drowned. He had made the Solomon Islands, +and there told his brothers of what we had done in Oolong. And all his +brothers had said they would come and punish us, and there they were in the +three schooners, and our three villages were wiped out. + +"And what was there for us to do? In the morning the two schooners from +windward sailed down upon us in the middle of the lagoon. The trade wind was +blowing fresh, and by scores of canoes they ran us down. And the rifles never +ceased talking. We scattered like flying fish before the bonita, and there +were so many of us that we escaped by thousands, this way and that, to the +islands on the rim of the atoll. + +"And thereafter the schooners hunted us up and down the lagoon. In the +nighttime we slipped past them. But the next day, or in two days or three +days, the schooners would be coming back, hunting us toward the other end of +the lagoon. And so it went. We no longer counted nor remembered our dead. +True, we were many and they were few. But what could we do? I was in one of +the twenty canoes filled with men who were not afraid to die. We attacked the +smallest schooner. They shot us down in heaps. They threw dynamite into the +canoes, and when the dynamite gave out, they threw hot water down upon us. And +the rifles never ceased talking. And those whose canoes were smashed were shot +as they swam away. And the mate danced up and down upon the cabin top and +yelled, "Yah! Yah! Yah!' + +"Every house on every smallest island was burned. Not a pig nor a fowl was +left alive. Our wells were defiled with the bodies of the slain, or else +heaped high with coral rock. We were twenty-five thousand on Oolong before the +three schooners came. Today we are five thousand. After the schooners left, we +were but three thousand, as you shall see. + +"At last the three schooners grew tired of chasing us back and forth. So they +went, the three of them, to Nihi, in the northeast. And then they drove us +steadily to the west. Their nine boats were in the water as well. They beat up +every island as they moved along. They drove us, drove us, drove us day by +day. And every night the three schooners and the nine boats made a chain of +watchfulness that stretched across the lagoon from rim to rim, so that we +could not escape back. + +"They could not drive us forever that way, for the lagoon was only so large, +and at last all of us that yet lived were driven upon the last sand bank to +the west. Beyond lay the open sea. There were ten thousand of us, and we +covered the sand bank from the lagoon edge to the pounding surf on the other +side. No one could lie down. There was no room. We stood hip to hip and +shoulder to shoulder. Two days they kept us there, and the mate would climb up +in the rigging to mock us and yell, Yah! Yah! Yah!' till we were well sorry +that we had ever harmed him or his schooner a month before. We had no food, +and we stood on our feet two days and nights. The little babies died, and the +old and weak died, and the wounded died. And worst of all, we had no water to +quench our thirst, and for two days the sun beat down on us, and there was no +shade. Many men and women waded out into the ocean and were drowned, the surf +casting their bodies back on the beach. And there came a pest of flies. Some +men swam to the sides of the schooners, but they were shot to the last one. +And we that lived were very sorry that in our pride we tried to take the +schooner with the three masts that came to fish for beche-de-mer. + +"On the morning of the third day came the skippers of the three schooners and +that mate in a small boat. They carried rifles, all of them, and revolvers, +and they made talk. It was only that they were weary of killing us that they +had stopped, they told us. And we told them that we were sorry, that never +again would we harm a white man, and in token of our submission we poured sand +upon our heads. And all the women and children set up a great wailing for +water, so that for some time no man could make himself heard. Then we were +told our punishment. We must fill the three schooners with copra and +beche-de-mer. And we agreed, for we wanted water, and our hearts were broken, +and we knew that we were children at fighting when we fought with white men +who fight like hell. And when all the talk was finished, the mate stood up and +mocked us, and yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' After that we paddled away in our +canoes and sought water. + +"And for weeks we toiled at catching beche-de-mer and curing it, in gathering +the cocoanuts and turning them into copra. By day and night the smoke rose in +clouds from all the beaches of all the islands of Oolong as we paid the +penalty of our wrongdoing. For in those days of death it was burned clearly on +all our brains that it was very wrong to harm a white man. + +"By and by, the schooners full of copra and beche-de-mer and our trees empty +of cocoanuts, the three skippers and that mate called us all together for a +big talk. And they said they were very glad that we had learned our lesson, +and we said for the ten-thousandth time that we were sorry and that we would +not do it again. Also, we poured sand upon our heads. Then the skippers said +that it was all very well, but just to show us that they did not forget us, +they would send a devil-devil that we would never forget and that we would +always remember any time we might feel like harming a white man. After that +the mate mocked us one more time and yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' Then six of our +men, whom we thought long dead, were put ashore from one of the schooners, and +the schooners hoisted their sails and ran out through the passage for the +Solomons. + +"The six men who were put ashore were the first to catch the devil-devil the +skippers sent back after us." + +"A great sickness came," I interrupted, for I recognized the trick. The +schooner had had measles on board, and the six prisoners had been deliberately +exposed to it. + +"Yes, a great sickness," Oti went on. "It was a powerful devil-devil. The +oldest man had never heard of the like. Those of our priests that yet lived we +killed because they could not overcome the devil-devil. The sickness spread. +I have said that there were ten thousand of us that stood hip to hip and +shoulder to shoulder on the sandbank. When the sickness left us, there were +three thousand yet alive. Also, having made all our cocoanuts into copra, +there was a famine. + +"That fella trader," Oti concluded, "he like 'm that much dirt. He like 'm +clam he die KAI-KAI (meat) he stop, stink 'm any amount. He like 'm one fella +dog, one sick fella dog plenty fleas stop along him. We no fright along that +fella trader. We fright because he white man. We savve plenty too much no good +kill white man. That one fella sick dog trader he plenty brother stop along +him, white men like 'm you fight like hell. We no fright that damn trader. +Some time he made kanaka plenty cross along him and kanaka want 'm kill m, +kanaka he think devil-devil and kanaka he hear that fella mate sing out, Yah! +Yah! Yah!' and kanaka no kill m." + +Oti baited his hook with a piece of squid, which he tore with his teeth from +the live and squirming monster, and hook and bait sank in white flames to the +bottom. + +"Shark walk about he finish," he said. "I think we catch 'm plenty fella +fish." + +His line jerked savagely. He pulled it in rapidly, hand under hand, and landed +a big gasping rock cod in the bottom of the canoe. + +"Sun he come up, I make 'm that dam fella trader one present big fella fish," +said Oti. + + +THE HEATHEN + +I met him first in a hurricane; and though we had gone through the hurricane +on the same schooner, it was not until the schooner had gone to pieces under +us that I first laid eyes on him. Without doubt I had seen him with the rest +of the kanaka crew on board, but I had not consciously been aware of his +existence, for the Petite Jeanne was rather overcrowded. In addition to her +eight or ten kanaka seamen, her white captain, mate, and supercargo, and her +six cabin passengers, she sailed from Rangiroa with something like eighty-five +deck passengers-- Paumotans and Tahitians, men, women, and children each with +a trade box, to say nothing of sleeping mats, blankets, and clothes bundles. + +The pearling season in the Paumotus was over, and all hands were returning to +Tahiti. The six of us cabin passengers were pearl buyers. Two were Americans, +one was Ah Choon (the whitest Chinese I have ever known), one was a German, +one was a Polish Jew, and I completed the half dozen. + +It had been a prosperous season. Not one of us had cause for complaint, nor +one of the eighty-five deck passengers either. All had done well, and all +were looking forward to a rest-off and a good time in Papeete. + +Of course, the Petite Jeanne was overloaded. She was only seventy tons, and +she had no right to carry a tithe of the mob she had on board. Beneath her +hatches she was crammed and jammed with pearl shell and copra. Even the trade +room was packed full with shell. It was a miracle that the sailors could work +her. There was no moving about the decks. They simply climbed back and forth +along the rails. + +In the night time they walked upon the sleepers, who carpeted the deck, I'll +swear, two deep. Oh! And there were pigs and chickens on deck, and sacks of +yams, while every conceivable place was festooned with strings of drinking +cocoanuts and bunches of bananas. On both sides, between the fore and main +shrouds, guys had been stretched, just low enough for the foreboom to swing +clear; and from each of these guys at least fifty bunches of bananas were +suspended. + +It promised to be a messy passage, even if we did make it in the two or three +days that would have been required if the southeast trades had been blowing +fresh. But they weren't blowing fresh. After the first five hours the trade +died away in a dozen or so gasping fans. The calm continued all that night and +the next day--one of those glaring, glassy, calms, when the very thought of +opening one's eyes to look at it is sufficient to cause a headache. + +The second day a man died--an Easter Islander, one of the best divers that +season in the lagoon. Smallpox--that is what it was; though how smallpox could +come on board, when there had been no known cases ashore when we left +Rangiroa, is beyond me. There it was, though--smallpox, a man dead, and three +others down on their backs. + +There was nothing to be done. We could not segregate the sick, nor could we +care for them. We were packed like sardines. There was nothing to do but rot +and die--that is, there was nothing to do after the night that followed the +first death. On that night, the mate, the supercargo, the Polish Jew, and four +native divers sneaked away in the large whale boat. They were never heard of +again. In the morning the captain promptly scuttled the remaining boats, and +there we were. + +That day there were two deaths; the following day three; then it jumped to +eight. It was curious to see how we took it. The natives, for instance, fell +into a condition of dumb, stolid fear. The captain--Oudouse, his name was, a +Frenchman--became very nervous and voluble. He actually got the twitches. He +was a large fleshy man, weighing at least two hundred pounds, and he quickly +became a faithful representation of a quivering jelly-mountain of fat. + +The German, the two Americans, and myself bought up all the Scotch whiskey, +and proceeded to stay drunk. The theory was beautiful--namely, if we kept +ourselves soaked in alcohol, every smallpox germ that came into contact with +us would immediately be scorched to a cinder. And the theory worked, though I +must confess that neither Captain Oudouse nor Ah Choon were attacked by the +disease either. The Frenchman did not drink at all, while Ah Choon restricted +himself to one drink daily. + +It was a pretty time. The sun, going into northern declination, was straight +overhead. There was no wind, except for frequent squalls, which blew fiercely +for from five minutes to half an hour, and wound up by deluging us with rain. +After each squall, the awful sun would come out, drawing clouds of steam from +the soaked decks. + +The steam was not nice. It was the vapor of death, freighted with millions and +millions of germs. We always took another drink when we saw it going up from +the dead and dying, and usually we took two or three more drinks, mixing them +exceptionally stiff. Also, we made it a rule to take an additional several +each time they hove the dead over to the sharks that swarmed about us. + +We had a week of it, and then the whiskey gave out. It is just as well, or I +shouldn't be alive now. It took a sober man to pull through what followed, as +you will agree when I mention the little fact that only two men did pull +through. The other man was the heathen--at least, that was what I heard +Captain Oudouse call him at the moment I first became aware of the heathen's +existence. But to come back. + +It was at the end of the week, with the whiskey gone, and the pearl buyers +sober, that I happened to glance at the barometer that hung in the cabin +companionway. Its normal register in the Paumotus was 29.90, and it was quite +customary to see it vacillate between 29.85 and 30.00, or even 30.05; but to +see it as I saw it, down to 29.62, was sufficient to sober the most drunken +pearl buyer that ever incinerated smallpox microbes in Scotch whiskey. + +I called Captain Oudouse's attention to it, only to be informed that he had +watched it going down for several hours. There was little to do, but that +little he did very well, considering the circumstances. He took off the light +sails, shortened right down to storm canvas, spread life lines, and waited for +the wind. His mistake lay in what he did after the wind came. He hove to on +the port tack, which was the right thing to do south of the Equator, if--and +there was the rub--IF one were NOT in the direct path of the hurricane. + +We were in the direct path. I could see that by the steady increase of the +wind and the equally steady fall of the barometer. I wanted him to turn and +run with the wind on the port quarter until the barometer ceased falling, and +then to heave to. We argued till he was reduced to hysteria, but budge he +would not. The worst of it was that I could not get the rest of the pearl +buyers to back me up. Who was I, anyway, to know more about the sea and its +ways than a properly qualified captain? was what was in their minds, I knew. + +Of course, the sea rose with the wind frightfully; and I shall never forget +the first three seas the Petite Jeanne shipped. She had fallen off, as vessels +do at times when hove to, and the first sea made a clean breach. The life +lines were only for the strong and well, and little good were they even for +them when the women and children, the bananas and cocoanuts, the pigs and +trade boxes, the sick and the dying, were swept along in a solid, screeching, +groaning mass. + +The second sea filled the Petite Jeanne'S decks flush with the rails; and, as +her stern sank down and her bow tossed skyward, all the miserable dunnage of +life and luggage poured aft. It was a human torrent. They came head first, +feet first, sidewise, rolling over and over, twisting, squirming, writhing, +and crumpling up. Now and again one caught a grip on a stanchion or a rope; +but the weight of the bodies behind tore such grips loose. + +One man I noticed fetch up, head on and square on, with the starboard bitt. +His head cracked like an egg. I saw what was coming, sprang on top of the +cabin, and from there into the mainsail itself. Ah Choon and one of the +Americans tried to follow me, but I was one jump ahead of them. The American +was swept away and over the stern like a piece of chaff. Ah Choon caught a +spoke of the wheel, and swung in behind it. But a strapping Raratonga vahine +(woman)--she must have weighed two hundred and fifty--brought up against him, +and got an arm around his neck. He clutched the kanaka steersman with his +other hand; and just at that moment the schooner flung down to starboard. + +The rush of bodies and sea that was coming along the port runway between the +cabin and the rail turned abruptly and poured to starboard. Away they +went--vahine, Ah Choon, and steersman; and I swear I saw Ah Choon grin at me +with philosophic resignation as he cleared the rail and went under. + +The third sea--the biggest of the three--did not do so much damage. By the +time it arrived nearly everybody was in the rigging. On deck perhaps a dozen +gasping, half-drowned, and half-stunned wretches were rolling about or +attempting to crawl into safety. They went by the board, as did the wreckage +of the two remaining boats. The other pearl buyers and myself, between seas, +managed to get about fifteen women and children into the cabin, and battened +down. Little good it did the poor creatures in the end. + +Wind? Out of all my experience I could not have believed it possible for the +wind to blow as it did. There is no describing it. How can one describe a +nightmare? It was the same way with that wind. It tore the clothes off our +bodies. I say TORE THEM OFF, and I mean it. I am not asking you to believe it. +I am merely telling something that I saw and felt. There are times when I do +not believe it myself. I went through it, and that is enough. One could not +face that wind and live. It was a monstrous thing, and the most monstrous +thing about it was that it increased and continued to increase. + +Imagine countless millions and billions of tons of sand. Imagine this sand +tearing along at ninety, a hundred, a hundred and twenty, or any other number +of miles per hour. Imagine, further, this sand to be invisible, impalpable, +yet to retain all the weight and density of sand. Do all this, and you may get +a vague inkling of what that wind was like. + +Perhaps sand is not the right comparison. Consider it mud, invisible, +impalpable, but heavy as mud. Nay, it goes beyond that. Consider every +molecule of air to be a mudbank in itself. Then try to imagine the +multitudinous impact of mudbanks. No; it is beyond me. Language may be +adequate to express the ordinary conditions of life, but it cannot possibly +express any of the conditions of so enormous a blast of wind. It would have +been better had I stuck by my original intention of not attempting a +description. + +I will say this much: The sea, which had risen at first, was beaten down by +that wind. 'more: it seemed as if the whole ocean had been sucked up in the +maw of the hurricane, and hurled on through that portion of space which +previously had been occupied by the air. + +Of course, our canvas had gone long before. But Captain Oudouse had on the +Petite Jeanne something I had never before seen on a South Sea schooner--a sea +anchor. It was a conical canvas bag, the mouth of which was kept open by a +huge loop of iron. The sea anchor was bridled something like a kite, so that +it bit into the water as a kite bites into the air, but with a difference. The +sea anchor remained just under the surface of the ocean in a perpendicular +position. A long line, in turn, connected it with the schooner. As a result, +the Petite Jeanne rode bow on to the wind and to what sea there was. + +The situation really would have been favorable had we not been in the path of +the storm. True, the wind itself tore our canvas out of the gaskets, jerked +out our topmasts, and made a raffle of our running gear, but still we would +have come through nicely had we not been square in front of the advancing +storm center. That was what fixed us. I was in a state of stunned, numbed, +paralyzed collapse from enduring the impact of the wind, and I think I was +just about ready to give up and die when the center smote us. The blow we +received was an absolute lull. There was not a breath of air. The effect on +one was sickening. + +Remember that for hours we had been at terrific muscular tension, withstanding +the awful pressure of that wind. And then, suddenly, the pressure was removed. +I know that I felt as though I was about to expand, to fly apart in all +directions. It seemed as if every atom composing my body was repelling every +other atom and was on the verge of rushing off irresistibly into space. But +that lasted only for a moment. Destruction was upon us. + +In the absence of the wind and pressure the sea rose. It jumped, it leaped, it +soared straight toward the clouds. Remember, from every point of the compass +that inconceivable wind was blowing in toward the center of calm. The result +was that the seas sprang up from every point of the compass. There was no wind +to check them. They popped up like corks released from the bottom of a pail of +water. There was no system to them, no stability. They were hollow, maniacal +seas. They were eighty feet high at the least. They were not seas at all. They +resembled no sea a man had ever seen. + +They were splashes, monstrous splashes--that is all. Splashes that were eighty +feet high. Eighty! They were more than eighty. They went over our mastheads. +They were spouts, explosions. They were drunken. They fell anywhere, anyhow. +They jostled one another; they collided. They rushed together and collapsed +upon one another, or fell apart like a thousand waterfalls all at once. It was +no ocean any man had ever dreamed of, that hurricane center. It was confusion +thrice confounded. It was anarchy. It was a hell pit of sea water gone mad. + +The Petite Jeanne? I don't know. The heathen told me afterwards that he did +not know. She was literally torn apart, ripped wide open, beaten into a pulp, +smashed into kindling wood, annihilated. When I came to I was in the water, +swimming automatically, though I was about two-thirds drowned. How I got there +I had no recollection. I remembered seeing the Petite Jeanne fly to pieces at +what must have been the instant that my own consciousness was buffeted out of +me. But there I was, with nothing to do but make the best of it, and in that +best there was little promise. The wind was blowing again, the sea was much +smaller and more regular, and I knew that I had passed through the center. +Fortunately, there were no sharks about. The hurricane had dissipated the +ravenous horde that had surrounded the death ship and fed off the dead. + +It was about midday when the Petite Jeanne went to pieces, and it must have +been two hours afterwards when I picked up with one of her hatch covers. Thick +rain was driving at the time; and it was the merest chance that flung me and +the hatch cover together. A short length of line was trailing from the rope +handle; and I knew that I was good for a day, at least, if the sharks did not +return. Three hours later, possibly a little longer, sticking close to the +cover, and with closed eyes, concentrating my whole soul upon the task of +breathing in enough air to keep me going and at the same time of avoiding +breathing in enough water to drown me, it seemed to me that I heard voices. +The rain had ceased, and wind and sea were easing marvelously. Not twenty feet +away from me, on another hatch cover were Captain Oudouse and the heathen. +They were fighting over the possession of the cover--at least, the Frenchman +was. "Paien noir!" I heard him scream, and at the same time I saw him kick the +kanaka. + +Now, Captain Oudouse had lost all his clothes, except his shoes, and they were +heavy brogans. It was a cruel blow, for it caught the heathen on the mouth and +the point of the chin, half stunning him. I looked for him to retaliate, but +he contented himself with swimming about forlornly a safe ten feet away. +Whenever a fling of the sea threw him closer, the Frenchman, hanging on with +his hands, kicked out at him with both feet. Also, at the moment of delivering +each kick, he called the kanaka a black heathen. + +"For two centimes I'd come over there and drown you, you white beast!" I +yelled. + +The only reason I did not go was that I felt too tired. The very thought of +the effort to swim over was nauseating. So I called to the kanaka to come to +me, and proceeded to share the hatch cover with him. Otoo, he told me his name +was (pronounced o-to-o ); also, he told me that he was a native of Bora Bora, +the most westerly of the Society Group. As I learned afterward, he had got the +hatch cover first, and, after some time, encountering Captain Oudouse, had +offered to share it with him, and had been kicked off for his pains. + +And that was how Otoo and I first came together. He was no fighter. He was all +sweetness and gentleness, a love creature, though he stood nearly six feet +tall and was muscled like a gladiator. He was no fighter, but he was also no +coward. He had the heart of a lion; and in the years that followed I have seen +him run risks that I would never dream of taking. What I mean is that while he +was no fighter, and while he always avoided precipitating a row, he never ran +away from trouble when it started. And it was "Ware shoal!" when once Otoo +went into action. I shall never forget what he did to Bill King. It occurred +in German Samoa. Bill King was hailed the champion heavyweight of the American +Navy. He was a big brute of a man, a veritable gorilla, one of those +hard-hitting, rough-housing chaps, and clever with his fists as well. He +picked the quarrel, and he kicked Otoo twice and struck him once before Otoo +felt it to be necessary to fight. I don't think it lasted four minutes, at the +end of which time Bill King was the unhappy possessor of four broken ribs, a +broken forearm, and a dislocated shoulder blade. Otoo knew nothing of +scientific boxing. He was merely a manhandler; and Bill King was something +like three months in recovering from the bit of manhandling he received that +afternoon on Apia beach. + +But I am running ahead of my yarn. We shared the hatch cover between us. We +took turn and turn about, one lying flat on the cover and resting, while the +other, submerged to the neck, merely held on with his hands. For two days and +nights, spell and spell, on the cover and in the water, we drifted over the +ocean. Towards the last I was delirious most of the time; and there were +times, too, when I heard Otoo babbling and raving in his native tongue. Our +continuous immersion prevented us from dying of thirst, though the sea water +and the sunshine gave us the prettiest imaginable combination of salt pickle +and sunburn. + +In the end, Otoo saved my life; for I came to lying on the beach twenty feet +from the water, sheltered from the sun by a couple of cocoanut leaves. No one +but Otoo could have dragged me there and stuck up the leaves for shade. He was +lying beside me. I went off again; and the next time I came round, it was cool +and starry night, and Otoo was pressing a drinking cocoanut to my lips. + +We were the sole survivors of the Petite Jeanne. Captain Oudouse must have +succumbed to exhaustion, for several days later his hatch cover drifted ashore +without him. Otoo and I lived with the natives of the atoll for a week, when +we were rescued by the French cruiser and taken to Tahiti. In the meantime, +however, we had performed the ceremony of exchanging names. In the South Seas +such a ceremony binds two men closer together than blood brothership. The +initiative had been mine; and Otoo was rapturously delighted when I suggested +it. + +"It is well," he said, in Tahitian. "For we have been mates together for two +days on the lips of Death." + +"But death stuttered," I smiled. + +"It was a brave deed you did, master," he replied, "and Death was not vile +enough to speak." + +"Why do you 'master' me?" I demanded, with a show of hurt feelings. "We have +exchanged names. To you I am Otoo. To me you are Charley. And between you and +me, forever and forever, you shall be Charley, and I shall be Otoo. It is the +way of the custom. And when we die, if it does happen that we live again +somewhere beyond the stars and the sky, still shall you be Charley to me, and +I Otoo to you." + +"Yes, master," he answered, his eyes luminous and soft with joy. + +"There you go!" I cried indignantly. + +"What does it matter what my lips utter?" he argued. "They are only my lips. +But I shall think Otoo always. Whenever I think of myself, I shall think of +you. Whenever men call me by name, I shall think of you. And beyond the sky +and beyond the stars, always and forever, you shall be Otoo to me. Is it well, +master?" + +I hid my smile, and answered that it was well. + +We parted at Papeete. I remained ashore to recuperate; and he went on in a +cutter to his own island, Bora Bora. Six weeks later he was back. I was +surprised, for he had told me of his wife, and said that he was returning to +her, and would give over sailing on far voyages. + +"Where do you go, master?" he asked, after our first greetings. + +I shrugged my shoulders. It was a hard question. + +"All the world," was my answer--"all the world, all the sea, and all the +islands that are in the sea." + +"I will go with you," he said simply. "My wife is dead." + +I never had a brother; but from what I have seen of other men's brothers, I +doubt if any man ever had a brother that was to him what Otoo was to me. He +was brother and father and mother as well. And this I know: I lived a +straighter and better man because of Otoo. I cared little for other men, but I +had to live straight in Otoo's eyes. Because of him I dared not tarnish +myself. He made me his ideal, compounding me, I fear, chiefly out of his own +love and worship and there were times when I stood close to the steep pitch of +hell, and would have taken the plunge had not the thought of Otoo restrained +me. His pride in me entered into me, until it became one of the major rules in +my personal code to do nothing that would diminish that pride of his. + +Naturally, I did not learn right away what his feelings were toward me. He +never criticized, never censured; and slowly the exalted place I held in his +eyes dawned upon me, and slowly I grew to comprehend the hurt I could inflict +upon him by being anything less than my best. + +For seventeen years we were together; for seventeen years he was at my +shoulder, watching while I slept, nursing me through fever and wounds--ay, and +receiving wounds in fighting for me. He signed on the same ships with me; and +together we ranged the Pacific from Hawaii to Sydney Head, and from Torres +Straits to the Galapagos. We blackbirded from the New Hebrides and the Line +Islands over to the westward clear through the Louisades, New Britain, New +Ireland, and New Hanover. We were wrecked three times--in the Gilberts, in the +Santa Cruz group, and in the Fijis. And we traded and salved wherever a dollar +promised in the way of pearl and pearl shell, copra, beche-de-mer, hawkbill +turtle shell, and stranded wrecks. + +It began in Papeete, immediately after his announcement that he was going with +me over all the sea, and the islands in the midst thereof. There was a club in +those days in Papeete, where the pearlers, traders, captains, and riffraff of +South Sea adventurers forgathered. The play ran high, and the drink ran high; +and I am very much afraid that I kept later hours than were becoming or +proper. No matter what the hour was when I left the club, there was Otoo +waiting to see me safely home. + +At first I smiled; next I chided him. Then I told him flatly that I stood in +need of no wet-nursing. After that I did not see him when I came out of the +club. Quite by accident, a week or so later, I discovered that he still saw me +home, lurking across the street among the shadows of the mango trees. What +could I do? I know what I did do. + +Insensibly I began to keep better hours. On wet and stormy nights, in the +thick of the folly and the fun, the thought would persist in coming to me of +Otoo keeping his dreary vigil under the dripping mangoes. Truly, he made a +better man of me. Yet he was not strait-laced. And he knew nothing of common +Christian morality. All the people on Bora Bora were Christians; but he was a +heathen, the only unbeliever on the island, a gross materialist, who believed +that when he died he was dead. He believed merely in fair play and square +dealing. Petty meanness, in his code, was almost as serious as wanton +homicide; and I do believe that he respected a murderer more than a man given +to small practices. + +Concerning me, personally, he objected to my doing anything that was hurtful +to me. Gambling was all right. He was an ardent gambler himself. But late +hours, he explained, were bad for one's health. He had seen men who did not +take care of themselves die of fever. He was no teetotaler, and welcomed a +stiff nip any time when it was wet work in the boats. On the other hand, he +believed in liquor in moderation. He had seen many men killed or disgraced by +square-face or Scotch. + +Otoo had my welfare always at heart. He thought ahead for me, weighed my +plans, and took a greater interest in them than I did myself. At first, when I +was unaware of this interest of his in my affairs, he had to divine my +intentions, as, for instance, at Papeete, when I contemplated going partners +with a knavish fellow-countryman on a guano venture. I did not know he was a +knave. Nor did any white man in Papeete. Neither did Otoo know, but he saw how +thick we were getting, and found out for me, and without my asking him. Native +sailors from the ends of the seas knock about on the beach in Tahiti; and +Otoo, suspicious merely, went among them till he had gathered sufficient data +to justify his suspicions. Oh, it was a nice history, that of Randolph Waters. +I couldn't believe it when Otoo first narrated it; but when I sheeted it home +to Waters he gave in without a murmur, and got away on the first steamer to +Aukland. + +At first, I am free to confess, I couldn't help resenting Otoo's poking his +nose into my business. But I knew that he was wholly unselfish; and soon I had +to acknowledge his wisdom and discretion. He had his eyes open always to my +main chance, and he was both keen-sighted and far-sighted. In time he became +my counselor, until he knew more of my business than I did myself. He really +had my interest at heart more than I did. 'mine was the magnificent +carelessness of youth, for I preferred romance to dollars, and adventure to a +comfortable billet with all night in. So it was well that I had some one to +look out for me. I know that if it had not been for Otoo, I should not be here +today. + +Of numerous instances, let me give one. I had had some experience in +blackbirding before I went pearling in the Paumotus. Otoo and I were on the +beach in Samoa--we really were on the beach and hard aground--when my chance +came to go as recruiter on a blackbird brig. Otoo signed on before the mast; +and for the next half-dozen years, in as many ships, we knocked about the +wildest portions of Melanesia. Otoo saw to it that he always pulled stroke-oar +in my boat. Our custom in recruiting labor was to land the recruiter on the +beach. The covering boat always lay on its oars several hundred feet off +shore, while the recruiter's boat, also lying on its oars, kept afloat on the +edge of the beach. When I landed with my trade goods, leaving my steering +sweep apeak, Otoo left his stroke position and came into the stern sheets, +where a Winchester lay ready to hand under a flap of canvas. The boat's crew +was also armed, the Sniders concealed under canvas flaps that ran the length +of the gunwales. + +While I was busy arguing and persuading the woolly-headed cannibals to come +and labor on the Queensland plantations Otoo kept watch. And often and often +his low voice warned me of suspicious actions and impending treachery. +Sometimes it was the quick shot from his rifle, knocking a nigger over, that +was the first warning I received. And in my rush to the boat his hand was +always there to jerk me flying aboard. Once, I remember, on SANTA ANNA, the +boat grounded just as the trouble began. The covering boat was dashing to our +assistance, but the several score of savages would have wiped us out before it +arrived. Otoo took a flying leap ashore, dug both hands into the trade goods, +and scattered tobacco, beads, tomahawks, knives, and calicoes in all +directions. + +This was too much for the woolly-heads. While they scrambled for the +treasures, the boat was shoved clear, and we were aboard and forty feet away. +And I got thirty recruits off that very beach in the next four hours. + +The particular instance I have in mind was on Malaita, the most savage island +in the easterly Solomons. The natives had been remarkably friendly; and how +were we to know that the whole village had been taking up a collection for +over two years with which to buy a white man's head? The beggars are all +head-hunters, and they especially esteem a white man's head. The fellow who +captured the head would receive the whole collection. As I say, they appeared +very friendly; and on this day I was fully a hundred yards down the beach from +the boat. Otoo had cautioned me; and, as usual when I did not heed him, I came +to grief. + +The first I knew, a cloud of spears sailed out of the mangrove swamp at me. At +least a dozen were sticking into me. I started to run, but tripped over one +that was fast in my calf, and went down. The woolly-heads made a run for me, +each with a long-handled, fantail tomahawk with which to hack off my head. +They were so eager for the prize that they got in one another's way. In the +confusion, I avoided several hacks by throwing myself right and left on the +sand. + +Then Otoo arrived--Otoo the manhandler. In some way he had got hold of a heavy +war club, and at close quarters it was a far more efficient weapon than a +rifle. He was right in the thick of them, so that they could not spear him, +while their tomahawks seemed worse than useless. He was fighting for me, and +he was in a true Berserker rage. The way he handled that club was amazing. + +Their skulls squashed like overripe oranges. It was not until he had driven +them back, picked me up in his arms, and started to run, that he received his +first wounds. He arrived in the boat with four spear thrusts, got his +Winchester, and with it got a man for every shot. Then we pulled aboard the +schooner, and doctored up. + +Seventeen years we were together. He made me. I should today be a supercargo, +a recruiter, or a memory, if it had not been for him. + +"You spend your money, and you go out and get more," he said one day. "It is +easy to get money now. But when you get old, your money will be spent, and you +will not be able to go out and get more. I know, master. I have studied the +way of white men. On the beaches are many old men who were young once, and who +could get money just like you. Now they are old, and they have nothing, and +they wait about for the young men like you to come ashore and buy drinks for +them. + +"The black boy is a slave on the plantations. He gets twenty dollars a year. +He works hard. The overseer does not work hard. + +He rides a horse and watches the black boy work. He gets twelve hundred +dollars a year. I am a sailor on the schooner. I get fifteen dollars a month. +That is because I am a good sailor. I work hard. The captain has a double +awning, and drinks beer out of long bottles. I have never seen him haul a rope +or pull an oar. He gets one hundred and fifty dollars a month. I am a sailor. +He is a navigator. 'master, I think it would be very good for you to know +navigation." + +Otoo spurred me on to it. He sailed with me as second mate on my first +schooner, and he was far prouder of my command than I was myself. Later on it +was: + +"The captain is well paid, master; but the ship is in his keeping, and he is +never free from the burden. It is the owner who is better paid--the owner who +sits ashore with many servants and turns his money over." + +"True, but a schooner costs five thousand dollars--an old schooner at that," I +objected. "I should be an old man before I saved five thousand dollars." + +"There be short ways for white men to make money," he went on, pointing ashore +at the cocoanut-fringed beach. + +We were in the Solomons at the time, picking up a cargo of ivory nuts along +the east coast of Guadalcanar. + +"Between this river mouth and the next it is two miles," he said. + +"The flat land runs far back. It is worth nothing now. Next year--who +knows?--or the year after, men will pay much money for that land. The +anchorage is good. Big steamers can lie close up. You can buy the land four +miles deep from the old chief for ten thousand sticks of tobacco, ten bottles +of square-face, and a Snider, which will cost you, maybe, one hundred dollars. +Then you place the deed with the commissioner; and the next year, or the year +after, you sell and become the owner of a ship." + +I followed his lead, and his words came true, though in three years, instead +of two. Next came the grasslands deal on Guadalcanar--twenty thousand acres, +on a governmental nine hundred and ninety-nine years' lease at a nominal sum. +I owned the lease for precisely ninety days, when I sold it to a company for +half a fortune. Always it was Otoo who looked ahead and saw the opportunity. +He was responsible for the salving of the Doncaster--bought in at auction for +a hundred pounds, and clearing three thousand after every expense was paid. He +led me into the Savaii plantation and the cocoa venture on Upolu. + +We did not go seafaring so much as in the old days. I was too well off. I +married, and my standard of living rose; but Otoo remained the same old-time +Otoo, moving about the house or trailing through the office, his wooden pipe +in his mouth, a shilling undershirt on his back, and a four-shilling lava-lava +about his loins. I could not get him to spend money. There was no way of +repaying him except with love, and God knows he got that in full measure from +all of us. The children worshipped him; and if he had been spoilable, my wife +would surely have been his undoing. + +The children! He really was the one who showed them the way of their feet in +the world practical. He began by teaching them to walk. He sat up with them +when they were sick. One by one, when they were scarcely toddlers, he took +them down to the lagoon, and made them into amphibians. He taught them more +than I ever knew of the habits of fish and the ways of catching them. In the +bush it was the same thing. At seven, Tom knew more woodcraft than I ever +dreamed existed. At six, Mary went over the Sliding Rock without a quiver, and +I have seen strong men balk at that feat. And when Frank had just turned six +he could bring up shillings from the bottom in three fathoms. + +"My people in Bora Bora do not like heathen--they are all Christians; and I do +not like Bora Bora Christians," he said one day, when I, with the idea of +getting him to spend some of the money that was rightfully his, had been +trying to persuade him to make a visit to his own island in one of our +schooners--a special voyage which I had hoped to make a record breaker in the +matter of prodigal expense. + +I say one of OUR schooners, though legally at the time they belonged to me. I +struggled long with him to enter into partnership. + +"We have been partners from the day the Petite Jeanne went down," he said at +last. "But if your heart so wishes, then shall we become partners by the law. +I have no work to do, yet are my expenses large. I drink and eat and smoke in +plenty--it costs much, I know. I do not pay for the playing of billiards, for +I play on your table; but still the money goes. Fishing on the reef is only a +rich man's pleasure. It is shocking, the cost of hooks and cotton line. Yes; +it is necessary that we be partners by the law. I need the money. I shall get +it from the head clerk in the office." + +So the papers were made out and recorded. A year later I was compelled to +complain. + +"Charley," said I, "you are a wicked old fraud, a miserly skinflint, a +miserable land crab. Behold, your share for the year in all our partnership +has been thousands of dollars. The head clerk has given me this paper. It says +that in the year you have drawn just eighty-seven dollars and twenty cents." + +"Is there any owing me?" he asked anxiously. + +"I tell you thousands and thousands," I answered. + +His face brightened, as with an immense relief. + +"It is well," he said. "See that the head clerk keeps good account of it. When +I want it, I shall want it, and there must not be a cent missing. + +"If there is,:" he added fiercely, after a pause, "it must come out of the +clerk's wages." + +And all the time, as I afterwards learned, his will, drawn up by Carruthers, +and making me sole beneficiary, lay in the American consul's safe. + +But the end came, as the end must come to all human associations. + +It occurred in the Solomons, where our wildest work had been done in the wild +young days, and where we were once more-- principally on a holiday, +incidentally to look after our holdings on Florida Island and to look over the +pearling possibilities of the Mboli Pass. We were lying at Savo, having run in +to trade for curios. + +Now, Savo is alive with sharks. The custom of the woolly-heads of burying +their dead in the sea did not tend to discourage the sharks from making the +adjacent waters a hangout. It was my luck to be coming aboard in a tiny, +overloaded, native canoe, when the thing capsized. There were four +woolly-heads and myself in it, or rather, hanging to it. The schooner was a +hundred yards away. + +I was just hailing for a boat when one of the woolly-heads began to scream. +Holding on to the end of the canoe, both he and that portion of the canoe were +dragged under several times. Then he loosed his clutch and disappeared. A +shark had got him. + +The three remaining niggers tried to climb out of the water upon the bottom of +the canoe. I yelled and cursed and struck at the nearest with my fist, but it +was no use. They were in a blind funk. The canoe could barely have supported +one of them. Under the three it upended and rolled sidewise, throwing them +back into the water. + +I abandoned the canoe and started to swim toward the schooner, expecting to be +picked up by the boat before I got there. One of the niggers elected to come +with me, and we swam along silently, side by side, now and again putting our +faces into the water and peering about for sharks. The screams of the man who +stayed by the canoe informed us that he was taken. I was peering into the +water when I saw a big shark pass directly beneath me. He was fully sixteen +feet in length. I saw the whole thing. He got the woolly-head by the middle, +and away he went, the poor devil, head, shoulders, and arms out of the water +all the time, screeching in a heart-rending way. He was carried along in this +fashion for several hundred feet, when he was dragged beneath the surface. + +I swam doggedly on, hoping that that was the last unattached shark. But there +was another. Whether it was one that had attacked the natives earlier, or +whether it was one that had made a good meal elsewhere, I do not know. At any +rate, he was not in such haste as the others. I could not swim so rapidly now, +for a large part of my effort was devoted to keeping track of him. I was +watching him when he made his first attack. By good luck I got both hands on +his nose, and, though his momentum nearly shoved me under, I managed to keep +him off. He veered clear, and began circling about again. A second time I +escaped him by the same manoeuvre. The third rush was a miss on both sides. He +sheered at the moment my hands should have landed on his nose, but his +sandpaper hide (I had on a sleeveless undershirt) scraped the skin off one arm +from elbow to shoulder. + +By this time I was played out, and gave up hope. The schooner was still two +hundred feet away. My face was in the water, and I was watching him manoeuvre +for another attempt, when I saw a brown body pass between us. It was Otoo. + +"Swim for the schooner, master!" he said. And he spoke gayly, as though the +affair was a mere lark. "I know sharks. The shark is my brother." + +I obeyed, swimming slowly on, while Otoo swam about me, keeping always between +me and the shark, foiling his rushes and encouraging me. + +"The davit tackle carried away, and they are rigging the falls," he explained, +a minute or so later, and then went under to head off another attack. + +By the time the schooner was thirty feet away I was about done for. I could +scarcely move. They were heaving lines at us from on board, but they +continually fell short. The shark, finding that it was receiving no hurt, had +become bolder. Several times it nearly got me, but each time Otoo was there +just the moment before it was too late. Of course, Otoo could have saved +himself any time. But he stuck by me. + +"Good-by, Charley! I'm finished!" I just managed to gasp. + +I knew that the end had come, and that the next moment I should throw up my +hands and go down. + +But Otoo laughed in my face, saying: + +"I will show you a new trick. I will make that shark feel sick!" + +He dropped in behind me, where the shark was preparing to come at me. + +"A little more to the left!" he next called out. "There is a line there on the +water. To the left, master--to the left!" + +I changed my course and struck out blindly. I was by that time barely +conscious. As my hand closed on the line I heard an exclamation from on board. +I turned and looked. There was no sign of Otoo. The next instant he broke +surface. Both hands were off at the wrist, the stumps spouting blood. + +"Otoo!" he called softly. And I could see in his gaze the love that thrilled +in his voice. + +Then, and then only, at the very last of all our years, he called me by that +name. + +"Good-by, Otoo!" he called. + +Then he was dragged under, and I was hauled aboard, where I fainted in the +captain's arms. + +And so passed Otoo, who saved me and made me a man, and who saved me in the +end. We met in the maw of a hurricane, and parted in the maw of a shark, with +seventeen intervening years of comradeship, the like of which I dare to assert +has never befallen two men, the one brown and the other white. If Jehovah be +from His high place watching every sparrow fall, not least in His kingdom +shall be Otoo, the one heathen of Bora Bora. + + + +THE TERRIBLE SOLOMONS + +There is no gainsaying that the Solomons are a hard-bitten bunch of islands. +On the other hand, there are worse places in the world. But to the new chum +who has no constitutional understanding of men and life in the rough, the +Solomons may indeed prove terrible. + +It is true that fever and dysentery are perpetually on the walk-about, that +loathsome skin diseases abound, that the air is saturated with a poison that +bites into every pore, cut, or abrasion and plants malignant ulcers, and that +many strong men who escape dying there return as wrecks to their own +countries. It is also true that the natives of the Solomons are a wild lot, +with a hearty appetite for human flesh and a fad for collecting human heads. +Their highest instinct of sportsmanship is to catch a man with his back turned +and to smite him a cunning blow with a tomahawk that severs the spinal column +at the base of the brain. It is equally true that on some islands, such as +Malaita, the profit and loss account of social intercourse is calculated in +homicides. Heads are a medium of exchange, and white heads are extremely +valuable. Very often a dozen villages make a jack-pot, which they fatten moon +by moon, against the time when some brave warrior presents a white man's head, +fresh and gory, and claims the pot. + +All the foregoing is quite true, and yet there are white men who have lived in +the Solomons a score of years and who feel homesick when they go away from +them. A man needs only to be careful-- and lucky--to live a long time in the +Solomons; but he must also be of the right sort. He must have the hallmark of +the inevitable white man stamped upon his soul. He must be inevitable. He must +have a certain grand carelessness of odds, a certain colossal +self-satisfaction, and a racial egotism that convinces him that one white is +better than a thousand niggers every day in the week, and that on Sunday he is +able to clean out two thousand niggers. For such are the things that have made +the white man inevitable. Oh, and one other thing--the white man who wishes to +be inevitable, must not merely despise the lesser breeds and think a lot of +himself; he must also fail to be too long on imagination. He must not +understand too well the instincts, customs, and mental processes of the +blacks, the yellows, and the browns; for it is not in such fashion that the +white race has tramped its royal road around the world. + +Bertie Arkwright was not inevitable. He was too sensitive, too finely strung, +and he possessed too much imagination. The world was too much with him. He +projected himself too quiveringly into his environment. Therefore, the last +place in the world for him to come was the Solomons. He did not come, +expecting to stay. A five weeks' stop-over between steamers, he decided, would +satisfy the call of the primitive he felt thrumming the strings of his being. +At least, so he told the lady tourists on the MAKEMBO, though in different +terms; and they worshipped him as a hero, for they were lady tourists and they +would know only the safety of the steamer's deck as she threaded her way +through the Solomons. + +There was another man on board, of whom the ladies took no notice. He was a +little shriveled wisp of a man, with a withered skin the color of mahogany. +His name on the passenger list does not matter, but his other name, Captain +Malu, was a name for niggers to conjure with, and to scare naughty +pickaninnies to righteousness from New Hanover to the New Hebrides. He had +farmed savages and savagery, and from fever and hardship, the crack of Sniders +and the lash of the overseers, had wrested five millions of money in the form +of bche-de-mer, sandalwood, pearl-shell and turtle-shell, ivory nuts and +copra, grasslands, trading stations, and plantations. Captain Malu's little +finger, which was broken, had more inevitableness in it than Bertie +Arkwright's whole carcass. But then, the lady tourists had nothing by which to +judge save appearances, and Bertie certainly was a fine-looking man. + +Bertie talked with Captain Malu in the smoking room, confiding to him his +intention of seeing life red and bleeding in the Solomons. Captain Malu agreed +that the intention was ambitious and honorable. It was not until several days +later that he became interested in Bertie, when that young adventurer insisted +on showing him an automatic 44-caliber pistol. Bertie explained the mechanism +and demonstrated by slipping a loaded magazine up the hollow butt. + +"It is so simple," he said. He shot the outer barrel back along the inner one. +"That loads it and cocks it, you see. And then all I have to do is pull the +trigger, eight times, as fast as I can quiver my finger. See that safety +clutch. That's what I like about it. It is safe. It is positively fool-proof." +He slipped out the magazine. "You see how safe it is." + +As he held it in his hand, the muzzle came in line with Captain Malu's +stomach. Captain Malu's blue eyes looked at it unswervingly. + +"Would you mind pointing it in some other direction?" he asked. + +"It's perfectly safe," Bertie assured him. "I withdrew the magazine. It's not +loaded now, you know." + +"A gun is always loaded." + +"But this one isn't." + +"Turn it away just the same." + +Captain Malu's voice was flat and metallic and low, but his eyes never left +the muzzle until the line of it was drawn past him and away from him. + +"I'll bet a fiver it isn't loaded," Bertie proposed warmly. + +The other shook his head. + +"Then I'll show you." + +Bertie started to put the muzzle to his own temple with the evident intention +of pulling the trigger. + +"Just a second," Captain Malu said quietly, reaching out his hand. "Let me +look at it." + +He pointed it seaward and pulled the trigger. A heavy explosion followed, +instantaneous with the sharp click of the mechanism that flipped a hot and +smoking cartridge sidewise along the deck. + +Bertie's jaw dropped in amazement. + +"I slipped the barrel back once, didn't I?" he explained. It was silly of me, +I must say." + +He giggled flabbily, and sat down in a steamer chair. The blood had ebbed from +his face, exposing dark circles under his eyes. His hands were trembling and +unable to guide the shaking cigarette to his lips. The world was too much with +him, and he saw himself with dripping brains prone upon the deck + +"Really," he said, ". . . really." + +"It's a pretty weapon," said Captain Malu, returning the automatic to him. + +The Commissioner was on board the Makembo, returning from Sydney, and by his +permission a stop was made at Ugi to land a missionary. And at Ugi lay the +ketch ARLA, Captain Hansen, skipper. Now the Arla was one of many vessels +owned by Captain Malu, and it was at his suggestion and by his invitation that +Bertie went aboard the Arla as guest for a four days' recruiting cruise on the +coast of Malaita. Thereafter the ARLA would drop him at Reminge Plantation +(also owned by Captain Malu), where Bertie could remain for a week, and then +be sent over to Tulagi, the seat of government, where he would become the +Commissioner's guest. Captain Malu was responsible for two other suggestions, +which given, he disappears from this narrative. One was to Captain Hansen, the +other to Mr. Harriwell, manager of Reminge Plantation. Both suggestions were +similar in tenor, namely, to give Mr. Bertram Arkwright an insight into the +rawness and redness of life in the Solomons. Also, it is whispered that +Captain Malu mentioned that a case of Scotch would be coincidental with any +particularly gorgeous insight Mr. Arkwright might receive. . . . . +. . . . . . . . + +"Yes, Swartz always was too pig-headed. You see, he took four of his boat's +crew to Tulagi to be flogged--officially, you know--then started back with +them in the whaleboat. It was pretty squally, and the boat capsized just +outside. Swartz was the only one drowned. Of course, it was an accident." + +"Was it? Really?" Bertie asked, only half-interested, staring hard at the +black man at the wheel. + +Ugi had dropped astern, and the ARLA was sliding along through a summer sea +toward the wooded ranges of Malaita. The helmsman who so attracted Bertie's +eyes sported a ten penny nail, stuck skewerwise through his nose. About his +neck was a string of pants buttons. Thrust through holes in his ears were a +can opener, the broken handle of a toothbrush, a clay pipe, the brass wheel of +an alarm clock, and several Winchester rifle cartridges. + +On his chest, suspended from around his neck hung the half of a china plate. +Some forty similarly appareled blacks lay about the deck, fifteen of which +were boat's crew, the remainder being fresh labor recruits. + +"Of course it was an accident," spoke up the ARLA'S mate, Jacobs, a slender, +dark-eyed man who looked more a professor than a sailor. "Johnny Bedip nearly +had the same kind of accident. He was bringing back several from a flogging, +when they capsized him. But he knew how to swim as well as they, and two of +them were drowned. He used a boat stretcher and a revolver. Of course it was +an accident." + +"Quite common, them accidents," remarked the skipper. "You see that man at the +wheel, Mr. Arkwright? He's a man eater. Six months ago, he and the rest of the +boat's crew drowned the then captain of the ARLA. They did it on deck, sir, +right aft there by the mizzen-traveler." + +"The deck was in a shocking state," said the mate. + +"Do I understand--?" Bertie began. + +"Yes, just that," said Captain Hansen. "It was an accidental drowning." + +"But on deck--?" + +"Just so. I don't mind telling you, in confidence, of course, that they used +an axe." + +"This present crew of yours?" + +Captain Hansen nodded. + +"The other skipper always was too careless," explained the mate. He but just +turned his back, when they let him have it." + +"We haven't any show down here," was the skipper's complaint. "The government +protects a nigger against a white every time. You can't shoot first. You've +got to give the nigger first shot, or else the government calls it murder and +you go to Fiji. That's why there's so many drowning accidents." + +Dinner was called, and Bertie and the skipper went below, leaving the mate to +watch on deck. + +"Keep an eye out for that black devil, Auiki," was the skipper's parting +caution. "I haven't liked his looks for several days." + +"Right O," said the mate. + +Dinner was part way along, and the skipper was in the middle of his story of +the cutting out of the Scottish Chiefs. + +"Yes," he was saying, "she was the finest vessel on the coast. But when she +missed stays, and before ever she hit the reef, the canoes started for her. +There were five white men, a crew of twenty Santa Cruz boys and Samoans, and +only the supercargo escaped. Besides, there were sixty recruits. They were all +kai-kai'd. Kai-kai?--oh, I beg your pardon. I mean they were eaten. Then there +was the James Edwards, a dandy-rigged--" + +But at that moment there was a sharp oath from the mate on deck and a chorus +of savage cries. A revolver went off three times, and then was heard a loud +splash. Captain Hansen had sprung up the companionway on the instant, and +Bertie's eyes had been fascinated by a glimpse of him drawing his revolver as +he sprang. + +Bertie went up more circumspectly, hesitating before he put his head above the +companionway slide. But nothing happened. The mate was shaking with +excitement, his revolver in his hand. Once he startled, and half-jumped +around, as if danger threatened his back. + +"One of the natives fell overboard," he was saying, in a queer tense voice. +"He couldn't swim." + +"Who was it?" the skipper demanded. + +"Auiki," was the answer. + +"But I say, you know, I heard shots," Bertie said, in trembling eagerness, for +he scented adventure, and adventure that was happily over with. + +The mate whirled upon him, snarling: + +"It"s a damned lie. There ain't been a shot fired. The nigger fell overboard." + +Captain Hansen regarded Bertie with unblinking, lack-luster eyes. + +"I--I thought--" Bertie was beginning. + +"Shots?" said Captain Hansen, dreamily. "Shots? Did you hear any shots, Mr. +Jacobs?" + +"Not a shot," replied Mr. Jacobs. + +The skipper looked at his guest triumphantly, and said: + +"Evidently an accident. Let us go down, Mr. Arkwright, and finish dinner." + +Bertie slept that night in the captain's cabin, a tiny stateroom off the main +cabin. The for'ard bulkhead was decorated with a stand of rifles. Over the +bunk were three more rifles. Under the bunk was a big drawer, which, when he +pulled it out, he found filled with ammunition, dynamite, and several boxes of +detonators. He elected to take the settee on the opposite side. Lying +conspicuously on the small table, was the Arla's log. Bertie did not know +that it had been especially prepared for the occasion by Captain Malu, and he +read therein how on September 21, two boat's crew had fallen overboard and +been drowned. Bertie read between the lines and knew better. He read how the +Arla's whale boat had been bushwhacked at Su'u and had lost three men; of how +the skipper discovered the cook stewing human flesh on the galley fire--flesh +purchased by the boat's crew ashore in Fui; of how an accidental discharge of +dynamite, while signaling, had killed another boat's crew; of night attacks; +ports fled from between the dawns; attacks by bushmen in mangrove swamps and +by fleets of salt-water men in the larger passages. One item that occurred +with monotonous frequency was death by dysentery. He noticed with alarm that +two white men had so died--guests, like himself, on the Arla. + +"I say, you know," Bertie said next day to Captain Hansen. "I've been glancing +through your log." + +The skipper displayed quick vexation that the log had been left lying about. + +"And all that dysentery, you know, that's all rot, just like the accidental +drownings," Bertie continued. "What does dysentery really stand for?" + +The skipper openly admired his guest's acumen, stiffened himself to make +indignant denial, then gracefully surrendered. + +"You see, it's like this, Mr. Arkwright. These islands have got a bad enough +name as it is. It's getting harder every day to sign on white men. Suppose a +man is killed. The company has to pay through the nose for another man to take +the job. But if the man merely dies of sickness, it's all right. The new chums +don't mind disease. What they draw the line at is being murdered. I thought +the skipper of the Arla had died of dysentery when I took his billet. Then it +was too late. I'd signed the contract." + +"Besides," said Mr. Jacobs, "there's altogether too many accidental drownings +anyway. It don't look right. It's the fault of the government. A white man +hasn't a chance to defend himself from the niggers." + +"Yes, look at the Princess and that Yankee mate," the skipper took up the +tale. "She carried five white men besides a government agent. The captain, the +agent, and the supercargo were ashore in the two boats. They were killed to +the last man. The mate and boson, with about fifteen of the crew--Samoans and +Tongans--were on board. A crowd of niggers came off from shore. First thing +the mate knew, the boson and the crew were killed in the first rush. The mate +grabbed three cartridge belts and two Winchesters and skinned up to the +cross-trees. He was the sole survivor, and you can't blame him for being mad. +He pumped one rifle till it got so hot he couldn't hold it, then he pumped the +other. The deck was black with niggers. He cleaned them out. He dropped them +as they went over the rail, and he dropped them as fast as they picked up +their paddles. Then they jumped into the water and started to swim for it, and +being mad, he got half a dozen more. And what did he get for it?" + +"Seven years in Fiji," snapped the mate. + +"The government said he wasn't justified in shooting after they'd taken to the +water," the skipper explained. + +"And that's why they die of dysentery nowadays," the mate added. + +"Just fancy," said Bertie, as he felt a longing for the cruise to be over. + +Later on in the day he interviewed the black who had been pointed out to him +as a cannibal. This fellow's name was Sumasai. He had spent three years on a +Queensland plantation. He had been to Samoa, and Fiji, and Sydney; and as a +boat's crew had been on recruiting schooners through New Britain, New Ireland, +New Guinea, and the Admiralties. Also, he was a wag, and he had taken a line +on his skipper's conduct. Yes, he had eaten many men. How many? He could not +remember the tally. Yes, white men, too; they were very good, unless they were +sick. He had once eaten a sick one. + +"My word!" he cried, at the recollection. "Me sick plenty along him. 'my belly +walk about too much." + +Bertie shuddered, and asked about heads. Yes, Sumasai had several hidden +ashore, in good condition, sun-dried, and smoke-cured. One was of the captain +of a schooner. It had long whiskers. He would sell it for two quid. Black +men's heads he would sell for one quid. He had some pickaninny heads, in poor +condition, that he would let go for ten bob. + +Five minutes afterward, Bertie found himself sitting on the companionway-slide +alongside a black with a horrible skin disease. He sheered off, and on inquiry +was told that it was leprosy. He hurried below and washed himself with +antiseptic soap. He took many antiseptic washes in the course of the day, for +every native on board was afflicted with malignant ulcers of one sort or +another. + +As the Arla drew in to an anchorage in the midst of mangrove swamps, a double +row of barbed wire was stretched around above her rail. That looked like +business, and when Bertie saw the shore canoes alongside, armed with spears, +bows and arrows, and Sniders, he wished more earnestly than ever that the +cruise was over. + +That evening the natives were slow in leaving the ship at sundown. A number of +them checked the mate when he ordered them ashore. "Never mind, I'll fix +them," said Captain Hansen, diving below. + +When he cam back, he showed Bertie a stick of dynamite attached to a fish +hook. Now it happens that a paper-wrapped bottle of chlorodyne with a piece of +harmless fuse projecting can fool anybody. It fooled Bertie, and it fooled the +natives. When Captain Hansen lighted the fuse and hooked the fish hook into +the tail end of a native's loin cloth, that native was smitten with so an +ardent a desire for the shore that he forgot to shed the loin cloth. He +started for'ard, the fuse sizzling and spluttering at his rear, the natives in +his path taking headers over the barbed wire at every jump. Bertie was +horror-stricken. So was Captain Hansen. He had forgotten his twenty-five +recruits, on each of which he had paid thirty shillings advance. They went +over the side along with the shore-dwelling folk and followed by him who +trailed the sizzling chlorodyne bottle. + +Bertie did not see the bottle go off; but the mate opportunely discharging a +stick of real dynamite aft where it would harm nobody, Bertie would have sworn +in any admiralty court to a nigger blown to flinders. The flight of the +twenty-five recruits had actually cost the Arla forty pounds, and, since they +had taken to the bush, there was no hope of recovering them. The skipper and +his mate proceeded to drown their sorrow in cold tea. + +The cold tea was in whiskey bottles, so Bertie did not know it was cold tea +they were mopping up. All he knew was that the two men got very drunk and +argued eloquently and at length as to whether the exploded nigger should be +reported as a case of dysentery or as an accidental drowning. When they snored +off to sleep, he was the only white man left, and he kept a perilous watch +till dawn, in fear of an attack from shore and an uprising of the crew. + +Three more days the Arla spent on the coast, and three more nights the skipper +and the mate drank overfondly of cold tea, leaving Bertie to keep the watch. +They knew he could be depended upon, while he was equally certain that if he +lived, he would report their drunken conduct to Captain Malu. Then the Arla +dropped anchor at Reminge Plantation, on Guadalcanar, and Bertie landed on the +beach with a sigh of relief and shook hands with the manager. 'mr. Harriwell +was ready for him. + +"Now you mustn't be alarmed if some of our fellows seem downcast," Mr. +Harriwell said, having drawn him aside in confidence. "There's been talk of an +outbreak, and two or three suspicious signs I'm willing to admit, but +personally I think it's all poppycock." + +"How--how many blacks have you on the plantation?" Bertie asked, with a +sinking heart. + +"We're working four hundred just now," replied Mr. Harriwell, cheerfully; but +the three of us, with you, of course, and the skipper and mate of the Arla, +can handle them all right." + +Bertie turned to meet one McTavish, the storekeeper, who scarcely acknowledged +the introduction, such was his eagerness to present his resignation. + +"It being that I'm a married man, Mr. Harriwell, I can't very well afford to +remain on longer. Trouble is working up, as plain as the nose on your face. +The niggers are going to break out, and there'll be another Hohono horror +here." + +"What's a Hohono horror?" Bertie asked, after the storekeeper had been +persuaded to remain until the end of the month. + +"Oh, he means Hohono Plantation, on Ysabel," said the manager. "The niggers +killed the five white men ashore, captured the schooner, killed the captain +and mate, and escaped in a body to Malaita. But I always said they were +careless on Hohono. They won't catch us napping here. Come along, Mr. +Arkwright, and see our view from the veranda." + +Bertie was too busy wondering how he could get away to Tulagi to the +Commissioner's house, to see much of the view. He was still wondering, when a +rifle exploded very near to him, behind his back. At the same moment his arm +was nearly dislocated, so eagerly did Mr. Harriwell drag him indoors. + +"I say, old man, that was a close shave," said the manager, pawing him over to +see if he had been hit. "I can't tell you how sorry I am. But it was broad +daylight, and I never dreamed." + +Bertie was beginning to turn pale. + +"They got the other manager that way," McTavish vouchsafed. "And a dashed fine +chap he was. Blew his brains out all over the veranda. You noticed that dark +stain there between the steps and the door?" + +Bertie was ripe for the cocktail which Mr. Harriwell pitched in and compounded +for him; but before he could drink it, a man in riding trousers and puttees +entered. + +"What's the matter now?" the manager asked, after one look at the newcomer's +face. "Is the river up again?" + +"River be blowed--it's the niggers. Stepped out of the cane grass, not a dozen +feet away, and whopped at me. It was a Snider, and he shot from the hip. Now +what I want to know is where'd he get that Snider?--Oh, I beg pardon. Glad to +know you, Mr. Arkwright." + +"Mr. Brown is my assistant," explained Mr. Harriwell. "And now let's have that +drink." + +"But where'd he get that Snider?" Mr. Brown insisted. "I always objected to +keeping those guns on the premises." + +"They're still there," Mr. Harriwell said, with a show of heat. + +Mr. Brown smiled incredulously. + +"Come along and see," said the manager. + +Bertie joined the procession into the office, where Mr. Harriwell pointed +triumphantly at a big packing case in a dusty corner. + +"Well, then where did the beggar get that Snider?" harped Mr. Brown. + +But just then McTavish lifted the packing case. The manager started, then tore +off the lid. The case was empty. They gazed at one another in horrified +silence. Harriwell drooped wearily. + +Then McVeigh cursed. + +"What I contended all along--the house-boys are not to be trusted." + +"It does look serious," Harriwell admitted, "but we'll come through it all +right. What the sanguinary niggers need is a shaking up. Will you gentlemen +please bring your rifles to dinner, and will you, Mr. Brown, kindly prepare +forty or fifty sticks of dynamite. 'make the fuses good and short. We'll give +them a lesson. And now, gentlemen, dinner is served." + +One thing that Bertie detested was rice and curry, so it happened that he +alone partook of an inviting omelet. He had quite finished his plate, when +Harriwell helped himself to the omelet. One mouthful he tasted, then spat out +vociferously. + +"That's the second time," McTavish announced ominously. + +Harriwell was still hawking and spitting. + +"Second time, what?" Bertie quavered. + +"Poison," was the answer. "That cook will be hanged yet." + +"That's the way the bookkeeper went out at Cape March," Brown spoke up. "Died +horribly. They said on the Jessie that they heard him screaming three miles +away." + +"I'll put the cook in irons," sputtered Harriwell. "Fortunately we discovered +it in time." + +Bertie sat paralyzed. There was no color in his face. He attempted to speak, +but only an inarticulate gurgle resulted. All eyed him anxiously. + +"Don't say it, don't say it," McTavish cried in a tense voice. + +"Yes, I ate it, plenty of it, a whole plateful!" Bertie cried explosively, +like a diver suddenly regaining breath. + +The awful silence continued half a minute longer, and he read his fate in +their eyes. + +"Maybe it wasn't poison after all," said Harriwell, dismally. + +"Call in the cook," said Brown. + +In came the cook, a grinning black boy, nose-spiked and ear-plugged. + +"Here, you, Wi-wi, what name that?" Harriwell bellowed, pointing accusingly at +the omelet. + +Wi-wi was very naturally frightened and embarrassed. + +"Him good fella kai-kai," he murmured apologetically. + +"Make him eat it," suggested McTavish. "That's a proper test." + +Harriwell filled a spoon with the stuff and jumped for the cook, who fled in +panic. + +"That settles it," was Brown's solemn pronouncement. "He won't eat it." + +"Mr. Brown, will you please go and put the irons on him?" Harriwell turned +cheerfully to Bertie. "It's all right, old man, the Commissioner will deal +with him, and if you die, depend upon it, he will be hanged." + +"Don't think the government'll do it," objected McTavish. + +"But gentlemen, gentlemen," Bertie cried. "In the meantime think of me." + +Harriwell shrugged his shoulders pityingly. + +"Sorry, old man, but it's a native poison, and there are no known antidotes +for native poisons. Try and compose yourself and if--" + +Two sharp reports of a rifle from without, interrupted the discourse, and +Brown, entering, reloaded his rifle and sat down to table. + +"The cook's dead," he said. "Fever. A rather sudden attack." + +"I was just telling Mr. Arkwright that there are no antidotes for native +poisons--" + +"Except gin," said Brown. + +Harriwell called himself an absent-minded idiot and rushed for the gin bottle. + +"Neat, man, neat," he warned Bertie, who gulped down a tumbler two-thirds full +of the raw spirits, and coughed and choked from the angry bite of it till the +tears ran down his cheeks. + +Harriwell took his pulse and temperature, made a show of looking out for him, +and doubted that the omelet had been poisoned. Brown and McTavish also +doubted; but Bertie discerned an insincere ring in their voices. His appetite +had left him, and he took his own pulse stealthily under the table. There was +no question but what it was increasing, but he failed to ascribe it to the gin +he had taken. 'mcTavish, rifle in hand, went out on the veranda to +reconnoiter. + +"They're massing up at the cook-house," was his report. "And they've no end of +Sniders. 'my idea is to sneak around on the other side and take them in flank. +Strike the first blow, you know. Will you come along, Brown?" + +Harriwell ate on steadily, while Bertie discovered that his pulse had leaped +up five beats. Nevertheless, he could not help jumping when the rifles began +to go off. Above the scattering of Sniders could be heard the pumping of +Brown's and McTavish's Winchesters--all against a background of demoniacal +screeching and yelling. + +"They've got them on the run," Harriwell remarked, as voices and gunshots +faded away in the distance. + +Scarcely were Brown and McTavish back at the table when the latter +reconnoitered. + +"They've got dynamite," he said. + +"Then let's charge them with dynamite," Harriwell proposed. + +Thrusting half a dozen sticks each into their pockets and equipping themselves +with lighted cigars, they started for the door. And just then it happened. +They blamed McTavish for it afterward, and he admitted that the charge had +been a trifle excessive. But at any rate it went off under the house, which +lifted up cornerwise and settled back on its foundations. Half the china on +the table was shattered, while the eight-day clock stopped. Yelling for +vengeance, the three men rushed out into the night, and the bombardment began. + +When they returned, there was no Bertie. He had dragged himself away to the +office, barricaded himself in, and sunk upon the floor in a gin-soaked +nightmare, wherein he died a thousand deaths while the valorous fight went on +around him. In the morning, sick and headachey from the gin, he crawled out to +find the sun still in the sky and God presumable in heaven, for his hosts were +alive and uninjured. + +Harriwell pressed him to stay on longer, but Bertie insisted on sailing +immediately on the Arla for Tulagi, where, until the following steamer day, he +stuck close by the Commissioner's house. There were lady tourists on the +outgoing steamer, and Bertie was again a hero, while Captain Malu, as usual, +passed unnoticed. But Captain Malu sent back from Sydney two cases of the best +Scotch whiskey on the market, for he was not able to make up his mind as to +whether it was Captain Hansen or Mr Harriwell who had given Bertie Arkwright +the more gorgeous insight into life in the Solomons. + + + +THE INEVITABLE WHITE MAN + +"The black will never understand the white, nor the white the black, as long +as black is black and white is white." + +So said Captain Woodward. We sat in the parlor of Charley Roberts' pub in +Apia, drinking long Abu Hameds compounded and shared with us by the aforesaid +Charley Roberts, who claimed the recipe direct from Stevens, famous for having +invented the Abu Hamed at a time when he was spurred on by Nile thirst--the +Stevens who was responsible for "With Kitchener to Kartoun," and who passed +out at the siege of Ladysmith. + +Captain Woodward, short and squat, elderly, burned by forty years of tropic +sun, and with the most beautiful liquid brown eyes I ever saw in a man, spoke +from a vast experience. The crisscross of scars on his bald pate bespoke a +tomahawk intimacy with the black, and of equal intimacy was the advertisement, +front and rear, on the right side of his neck, where an arrow had at one time +entered and been pulled clean through. As he explained, he had been in a hurry +on that occasion--the arrow impeded his running--and he felt that he could not +take the time to break off the head and pull out the shaft the way it had come +in. At the present moment he was commander of the SAVAII, the big steamer that +recruited labor from the westward for the German plantations on Samoa. + +"Half the trouble is the stupidity of the whites," said Roberts, pausing to +take a swig from his glass and to curse the Samoan bar-boy in affectionate +terms. "If the white man would lay himself out a bit to understand the +workings of the black man's mind, most of the messes would be avoided." + +"I've seen a few who claimed they understood niggers," Captain Woodward +retorted, "and I always took notice that they were the first to be kai-kai'd +(eaten). Look at the missionaries in New Guinea and the New Hebrides--the +martyr isle of Erromanga and all the rest. Look at the Austrian expedition +that was cut to pieces in the Solomons, in the bush of Guadalcanar. And look +at the traders themselves, with a score of years' experience, making their +brag that no nigger would ever get them, and whose heads to this day are +ornamenting the rafters of the canoe houses. There was old Johnny +Simons--twenty-six years on the raw edges of Melanesia, swore he knew the +niggers like a book and that they'd never do for him, and he passed out at +Marovo Lagoon, New Georgia, had his head sawed off by a black Mary (woman) and +an old nigger with only one leg, having left the other leg in the mouth of a +shark while diving for dynamited fish. There was Billy Watts, horrible +reputation as a nigger killer, a man to scare the devil. I remember lying at +Cape Little, New Ireland you know, when the niggers stole half a case of +trade-tobacco--cost him about three dollars and a half. In retaliation he +turned out, shot six niggers, smashed up their war canoes and burned two +villages. And it was at Cape Little, four years afterward, that he was jumped +along with fifty Buku boys he had with him fishing bche-de-mer. In five +minutes they were all dead, with the exception of three boys who got away in a +canoe. Don't talk to me about understanding the nigger. The white man's +mission is to farm the world, and it's a big enough job cut out for him. What +time has he got left to understand niggers anyway?" + +"Just so," said Roberts. "And somehow it doesn't seem necessary, after all, to +understand the niggers. In direct proportion to the white man's stupidity is +his success in farming the world--" + +"And putting the fear of God into the nigger's heart," Captain Woodward +blurted out. "Perhaps you're right, Roberts. Perhaps it's his stupidity that +makes him succeed, and surely one phase of his stupidity is his inability to +understand the niggers. But there's one thing sure, the white has to run the +niggers whether he understands them or not. It's inevitable. It's fate." + +"And of course the white man is inevitable--it's the niggers' fate," Roberts +broke in. "Tell the white man there's pearl shell in some lagoon infested by +ten-thousand howling cannibals, and he'll head there all by his lonely, with +half a dozen kanaka divers and a tin alarm clock for chronometer, all packed +like sardines on a commodious, five-ton ketch. Whisper that there's a gold +strike at the North Pole, and that same inevitable white-skinned creature will +set out at once, armed with pick and shovel, a side of bacon, and the latest +patent rocker--and what's more, he'll get there. Tip it off to him that +there's diamonds on the red-hot ramparts of hell, and Mr. White Man will storm +the ramparts and set old Satan himself to pick-and-shovel work. That's what +comes of being stupid and inevitable." + +"But I wonder what the black man must think of the--the inevitableness," I +said. + +Captain Woodward broke into quiet laughter. His eyes had a reminiscent gleam. + +"I'm just wondering what the niggers of Malu thought and still must be +thinking of the one inevitable white man we had on board when we visited them +in the DUCHESS," he explained. + +Roberts mixed three more Abu Hameds. + +"That was twenty years ago. Saxtorph was his name. He was certainly the most +stupid man I ever saw, but he was as inevitable as death. There was only one +thing that chap could do, and that was shoot. I remember the first time I ran +into him--right here in Apia, twenty years ago. That was before your time, +Roberts. I was sleeping at Dutch Henry's hotel, down where the market is now. +Ever heard of him? He made a tidy stake smuggling arms in to the rebels, sold +out his hotel, and was killed in Sydney just six weeks afterward in a saloon +row. + +"But Saxtorph. One night I'd just got to sleep, when a couple of cats began to +sing in the courtyard. It was out of bed and up window, water jug in hand. But +just then I heard the window of the next room go up. Two shots were fired, and +the window was closed. I fail to impress you with the celerity of the +transaction. Ten seconds at the outside. Up went the window, bang bang went +the revolver, and down went the window. Whoever it was, he had never stopped +to see the effect of his shots. He knew. Do you follow me?--he KNEW. There was +no more cat concert, and in the morning there lay the two offenders, stone +dead. It was marvelous to me. It still is marvelous. First, it was starlight, +and Saxtorph shot without drawing a bead; next, he shot so rapidly that the +two reports were like a double report; and finally, he knew he had hit his +marks without looking to see. + + +"Two days afterward he came on board to see me. I was mate, then, on the +Duchess, a whacking big one-hundred-and fifty-ton schooner, a blackbirder. And +let me tell you that blackbirders were blackbirders in those days. There +weren't any government protection for US, either. It was rough work, give and +take, if we were finished, and nothing said, and we ran niggers from every +south sea island they didn't kick us off from. Well, Saxtorph came on board, +John Saxtorph was the name he gave. He was a sandy little man, hair sandy, +complexion sandy, and eyes sandy, too. Nothing striking about him. His soul +was as neutral as his color scheme. He said he was strapped and wanted to ship +on board. Would go cabin boy, cook, supercargo, or common sailor. Didn't know +anything about any of the billets, but said that he was willing to learn. I +didn't want him, but his shooting had so impressed me that I took him as +common sailor, wages three pounds per month. + +"He was willing to learn all right, I'll say that much. But he was +constitutionally unable to learn anything. He could no more box the compass +than I could mix drinks like Roberts here. And as for steering, he gave me my +first gray hairs. I never dared risk him at the wheel when we were running in +a big sea, while full-and-by and close-and-by were insoluble mysteries. +Couldn't ever tell the difference between a sheet and a tackle, simply +couldn't. The fore-throat-jig and the jib-jig were all one to him. Tell him to +slack off the mainsheet, and before you know it, he'd drop the peak. He fell +overboard three times, and he couldn't swim. But he was always cheerful, never +seasick, and he was the most willing man I ever knew. He was an +uncommunicative soul. Never talked about himself. His history, so far as we +were concerned, began the day he signed on the DUCHESS. Where he learned to +shoot, the stars alone can tell. He was a Yankee--that much we knew from the +twang in his speech. And that was all we ever did know. + +"And now we begin to get to the point. We had bad luck in the New Hebrides, +only fourteen boys for five weeks, and we ran up before the southeast for the +Solomons. 'malaita, then as now, was good recruiting ground, and we ran into +Malu, on the northwestern corner. There's a shore reef and an outer reef, and +a mighty nervous anchorage; but we made it all right and fired off our +dynamite as a signal to the niggers to come down and be recruited. In three +days we got not a boy. The niggers came off to us in their canoes by hundreds, +but they only laughed when we showed them beads and calico and hatchets and +talked of the delights of plantation work in Samoa. + +"On the fourth day there came a change. Fifty-odd boys signed on and were +billeted in the main-hold, with the freedom of the deck, of course. And of +course, looking back, this wholesale signing on was suspicious, but at the +time we thought some powerful chief had removed the ban against recruiting. +The morning of the fifth day our two boats went ashore as usual--one to cover +the other, you know, in case of trouble. And, as usual, the fifty niggers on +board were on deck, loafing, talking, smoking, and sleeping. Saxtorph and +myself, along with four other sailors, were all that were left on board. The +two boats were manned with Gilbert Islanders. In the one were the captain, the +supercargo, and the recruiter. In the other, which was the covering boat and +which lay off shore a hundred yards, was the second mate. Both boats were +well-armed, though trouble was little expected. + +"Four of the sailors, including Saxtorph, were scraping the poop rail. The +fifth sailor, rifle in hand, was standing guard by the water-tank just for'ard +of the mainmast. I was for'ard, putting in the finishing licks on a new jaw +for the fore-gaff. I was just reaching for my pipe where I had laid it down, +when I heard a shot from shore. I straightened up to look. Something struck me +on the back of the head, partially stunning me and knocking me to the deck. +'my first thought was that something had carried away aloft; but even as I +went down, and before I struck the deck, I heard the devil's own tattoo of +rifles from the boats, and twisting sidewise, I caught a glimpse of the sailor +who was standing guard. Two big niggers were holding his arms, and a third +nigger from behind was braining him with a tomahawk. + +"I can see it now, the water-tank, the mainmast, the gang hanging on to him, +the hatchet descending on the back of his head, and all under the blazing +sunlight. I was fascinated by that growing vision of death. The tomahawk +seemed to take a horribly long time to come down. I saw it land, and the man's +legs give under him as he crumpled. The niggers held him up by sheer strength +while he was hacked a couple of times more. Then I got two more hacks on the +head and decided that I was dead. So did the brute that was hacking me. I was +too helpless to move, and I lay there and watched them removing the sentry's +head. I must say they did it slick enough. They were old hands at the +business. + +"The rifle firing from the boats had ceased, and I made no doubt that they +were finished off and that the end had come to everything. It was only a +matter of moments when they would return for my head. They were evidently +taking the heads from the sailors aft. Heads are valuable on Malaita, +especially white heads. They have the place of honor in the canoe houses of +the salt-water natives. What particular decorative effect the bushmen get out +of them I didn't know, but they prize them just as much as the salt-water +crowd. + +"I had a dim notion of escaping, and I crawled on hands and knees to the +winch, where I managed to drag myself to my feet. From there I could look aft +and see three heads on top the cabin--the heads of three sailors I had given +orders to for months. The niggers saw me standing, and started for me. I +reached for my revolver, and found they had taken it. I can't say that I was +scared. I've been near to death several times, but it never seemed easier than +right then. I was half-stunned, and nothing seemed to matter. + +"The leading nigger had armed himself with a cleaver from the galley, and he +grimaced like an ape as he prepared to slice me down. But the slice was never +made. He went down on the deck all of a heap, and I saw the blood gush from +his mouth. In a dim way I heard a rifle go off and continue to go off. Nigger +after nigger went down. 'my senses began to clear, and I noted that there was +never a miss. Every time that the rifle went off a nigger dropped. I sat down +on deck beside the winch and looked up. Perched in the crosstrees was +Saxtorph. How he had managed it I can't imagine, for he had carried up with +him two Winchesters and I don't know how many bandoliers of ammunition; and he +was now doing the one only thing in this world that he was fitted to do. + +"I've seen shooting and slaughter, but I never saw anything like that. I sat +by the winch and watched the show. I was weak and faint, and it seemed to be +all a dream. Bang, bang, bang, bang, went his rifle, and thud, thud, thud, +thud, went the niggers to the deck. It was amazing to see them go down. After +their first rush to get me, when about a dozen had dropped, they seemed +paralyzed; but he never left off pumping his gun. By this time canoes and the +two boats arrived from shore, armed with Sniders, and with Winchesters which +they had captured in the boats. The fusillade they let loose on Saxtorph was +tremendous. Luckily for him the niggers are only good at close range. They are +not used to putting the gun to their shoulders. They wait until they are right +on top of a man, and then they shoot from the hip. When his rifle got too hot, +Saxtorph changed off. That had been his idea when he carried two rifles up +with him. + +"The astounding thing was the rapidity of his fire. Also, he never made a +miss. If ever anything was inevitable, that man was. It was the swiftness of +it that made the slaughter so appalling. The niggers did not have time to +think. When they did manage to think, they went over the side in a rush, +capsizing the canoes of course. Saxtorph never let up. The water was covered +with them, and plump, plump, plump, he dropped his bullets into them. Not a +single miss, and I could hear distinctly the thud of every bullet as it buried +in human flesh. + +"The niggers spread out and headed for the shore, swimming. The water was +carpeted with bobbing heads, and I stood up, as in a dream, and watched it +all--the bobbing heads and the heads that ceased to bob. Some of the long +shots were magnificent. Only one man reached the beach, but as he stood up to +wade ashore, Saxtorph got him. It was beautiful. And when a couple of niggers +ran down to drag him out of the water, Saxtorph got them, too. + +"I thought everything was over then, when I heard the rifle go off again. A +nigger had come out of the cabin companion on the run for the rail and gone +down in the middle of it. The cabin must have been full of them. I counted +twenty. They came up one at a time and jumped for the rail. But they never got +there. It reminded me of trapshooting. A black body would pop out of the +companion, bang would go Saxtorph's rifle, and down would go the black body. +Of course, those below did not know what was happening on deck, so they +continued to pop out until the last one was finished off. + +"Saxtorph waited a while to make sure, and then came down on deck. He and I +were all that were left of the DUCHESS'S complement, and I was pretty well to +the bad, while he was helpless now that the shooting was over. Under my +direction he washed out my scalp wounds and sewed them up. A big drink of +whiskey braced me to make an effort to get out. There was nothing else to do. +All the rest were dead. We tried to get up sail, Saxtorph hoisting and I +holding the turn. He was once more the stupid lubber. He couldn't hoist worth +a cent, and when I fell in a faint, it looked all up with us. + +"When I came to, Saxtorph was sitting helplessly on the rail, waiting to ask +me what he should do. I told him to overhaul the wounded and see if there were +any able to crawl. He gathered together six. One, I remember, had a broken +leg; but Saxtorph said his arms were all right. I lay in the shade, brushing +the flies off and directing operations, while Saxtorph bossed his hospital +gang. I'll be blessed if he didn't make those poor niggers heave at every rope +on the pin-rails before he found the halyards. One of them let go the rope in +the midst of the hoisting and slipped down to the deck dead; but Saxtorph +hammered the others and made them stick by the job. When the fore and main +were up, I told him to knock the shackle out of the anchor chain and let her +go. I had had myself helped aft to the wheel, where I was going to make a +shift at steering. I can't guess how he did it, but instead of knocking the +shackle out, down went the second anchor, and there we were doubly moored. + +"In the end he managed to knock both shackles out and raise the staysail and +jib, and the Duchess filled away for the entrance. Our decks were a +spectacle. Dead and dying niggers were everywhere. They were wedged away some +of them in the most inconceivable places. The cabin was full of them where +they had crawled off the deck and cashed in. I put Saxtorph and his graveyard +gang to work heaving them overside, and over they went, the living and the +dead. The sharks had fat pickings that day. Of course our four murdered +sailors went the same way. Their heads, however, we put in a sack with +weights, so that by no chance should they drift on the beach and fall into the +hands of the niggers. + +"Our five prisoners I decided to use as crew, but they decided otherwise. They +watched their opportunity and went over the side. Saxtorph got two in mid-air +with his revolver, and would have shot the other three in the water if I +hadn't stopped him. I was sick of the slaughter, you see, and besides, they'd +helped work the schooner out. But it was mercy thrown away, for the sharks got +the three of them. + +"I had brain fever or something after we got clear of the land. Anyway, the +DUCHESS lay hove to for three weeks, when I pulled myself together and we +jogged on with her to Sydney. Anyway those niggers of Malu learned the +everlasting lesson that it is not good to monkey with a white man. In their +case, Saxtorph was certainly inevitable." + +Charley Roberts emitted a long whistle and said: + +"Well I should say so. But whatever became of Saxtorph?" + +"He drifted into seal hunting and became a crackerjack. For six years he was +high line of both the Victoria and San Francisco fleets. The seventh year his +schooner was seized in Bering Sea by a Russian cruiser, and all hands, so the +talk went, were slammed into the Siberian salt mines. At least I've never +heard of him since." + +"Farming the world," Roberts muttered. "Farming the world. Well here's to +them. Somebody's got to do it--farm the world, I mean." + +Captain Woodward rubbed the criss-crosses on his bald head. + +"I've done my share of it," he said. "Forty years now. This will be my last +trip. Then I'm going home to stay." + +"I'll wager the wine you don't," Roberts challenged. "You'll die in the +harness, not at home." + +Captain Woodward promptly accepted the bet, but personally I think Charley +Roberts has the best of it. + + + +THE SEED OF McCOY + +The Pyrenees, her iron sides pressed low in the water by her cargo of wheat, +rolled sluggishly, and made it easy for the man who was climbing aboard from +out a tiny outrigger canoe. As his eyes came level with the rail, so that he +could see inboard, it seemed to him that he saw a dim, almost indiscernible +haze. It was more like an illusion, like a blurring film that had spread +abruptly over his eyes. He felt an inclination to brush it away, and the same +instant he thought that he was growing old and that it was time to send to San +Francisco for a pair of spectacles. + +As he came over the rail he cast a glance aloft at the tall masts, and, next, +at the pumps. They were not working. There seemed nothing the matter with the +big ship, and he wondered why she had hoisted the signal of distress. He +thought of his happy islanders, and hoped it was not disease. Perhaps the ship +was short of water or provisions. He shook hands with the captain whose gaunt +face and care-worn eyes made no secret of the trouble, whatever it was. At the +same moment the newcomer was aware of a faint, indefinable smell. It seemed +like that of burnt bread, but different. + +He glanced curiously about him. Twenty feet away a weary-faced sailor was +calking the deck. As his eyes lingered on the man, he saw suddenly arise from +under his hands a faint spiral of haze that curled and twisted and was gone. +By now he had reached the deck. His bare feet were pervaded by a dull warmth +that quickly penetrated the thick calluses. He knew now the nature of the +ship's distress. His eyes roved swiftly forward, where the full crew of +weary-faced sailors regarded him eagerly. The glance from his liquid brown +eyes swept over them like a benediction, soothing them, rapping them about as +in the mantle of a great peace. "How long has she been afire, Captain?" he +asked in a voice so gentle and unperturbed that it was as the cooing of a +dove. + +At first the captain felt the peace and content of it stealing in upon him; +then the consciousness of all that he had gone through and was going through +smote him, and he was resentful. By what right did this ragged beachcomber, in +dungaree trousers and a cotton shirt, suggest such a thing as peace and +content to him and his overwrought, exhausted soul? The captain did not reason +this; it was the unconscious process of emotion that caused his resentment. + +"Fifteen days," he answered shortly. "Who are you?" + +"My name is McCoy," came the answer in tones that breathed tenderness and +compassion. + +"I mean, are you the pilot?" + +McCoy passed the benediction of his gaze over the tall, heavy-shouldered man +with the haggard, unshaven face who had joined the captain. + +"I am as much a pilot as anybody," was McCoy's answer. "We are all pilots +here, Captain, and I know every inch of these waters." + +But the captain was impatient. + +"What I want is some of the authorities. I want to talk with them, and blame +quick." + +"Then I'll do just as well." + +Again that insidious suggestion of peace, and his ship a raging furnace +beneath his feet! The captain's eyebrows lifted impatiently and nervously, and +his fist clenched as if he were about to strike a blow with it. + +"Who in hell are you?" he demanded. + +"I am the chief magistrate," was the reply in a voice that was still the +softest and gentlest imaginable. + +The tall, heavy-shouldered man broke out in a harsh laugh that was partly +amusement, but mostly hysterical. Both he and the captain regarded McCoy with +incredulity and amazement. That this barefooted beachcomber should possess +such high-sounding dignity was inconceivable. His cotton shirt, unbuttoned, +exposed a grizzled chest and the fact that there was no undershirt beneath. + +A worn straw hat failed to hide the ragged gray hair. Halfway down his chest +descended an untrimmed patriarchal beard. In any slop shop, two shillings +would have outfitted him complete as he stood before them. + +"Any relation to the McCoy of the Bounty?" the captain asked. + +"He was my great-grandfather." + +"Oh," the captain said, then bethought himself. 'my name is Davenport, and +this is my first mate, Mr. Konig." + +They shook hands. + +"And now to business." The captain spoke quickly, the urgency of a great haste +pressing his speech. "We've been on fire for over two weeks. She's ready to +break all hell loose any moment. That's why I held for Pitcairn. I want to +beach her, or scuttle her, and save the hull." + +"Then you made a mistake, Captain, said McCoy. "You should have slacked away +for Mangareva. There's a beautiful beach there, in a lagoon where the water is +like a mill pond." + +"But we're here, ain't we?" the first mate demanded. "That's the point. We're +here, and we've got to do something." + +McCoy shook his head kindly. + +"You can do nothing here. There is no beach. There isn't even anchorage." + +"Gammon!" said the mate. "Gammon!" he repeated loudly, as the captain signaled +him to be more soft spoken. "You can't tell me that sort of stuff. Where d'ye +keep your own boats, hey--your schooner, or cutter, or whatever you have? Hey? +Answer me that." + +McCoy smiled as gently as he spoke. His smile was a caress, an embrace that +surrounded the tired mate and sought to draw him into the quietude and rest of +McCoy's tranquil soul. + +"We have no schooner or cutter," he replied. "And we carry our canoes to the +top of the cliff." + +"You've got to show me," snorted the mate. "How d'ye get around to the other +islands, heh? Tell me that." + +"We don't get around. As governor of Pitcairn, I sometimes go. When I was +younger, I was away a great deal--sometimes on the trading schooners, but +mostly on the missionary brig. But she's gone now, and we depend on passing +vessels. Sometimes we have had as high as six calls in one year. At other +times, a year, and even longer, has gone by without one passing ship. Yours is +the first in seven months." + +"And you mean to tell me--" the mate began. + +But Captain Davenport interfered. + +"Enough of this. We're losing time. What is to be done, Mr. McCoy?" + +The old man turned his brown eyes, sweet as a woman's, shoreward, and both +captain and mate followed his gaze around from the lonely rock of Pitcairn to +the crew clustering forward and waiting anxiously for the announcement of a +decision. 'mcCoy did not hurry. He thought smoothly and slowly, step by step, +with the certitude of a mind that was never vexed or outraged by life. + +"The wind is light now," he said finally. "There is a heavy current setting to +the westward." + +"That's what made us fetch to leeward," the captain interrupted, desiring to +vindicate his seamanship. + +"Yes, that is what fetched you to leeward," McCoy went on. "Well, you can't +work up against this current today. And if you did, there is no beach. Your +ship will be a total loss." + +He paused, and captain and mate looked despair at each other. + +"But I will tell you what you can do. The breeze will freshen tonight around +midnight--see those tails of clouds and that thickness to windward, beyond the +point there? That's where she'll come from, out of the southeast, hard. It is +three hundred miles to Mangareva. Square away for it. There is a beautiful bed +for your ship there." + +The mate shook his head. + +"Come in to the cabin, and we'll look at the chart," said the captain. + +McCoy found a stifling, poisonous atmosphere in the pent cabin. Stray +waftures of invisible gases bit his eyes and made them sting. The deck was +hotter, almost unbearably hot to his bare feet. The sweat poured out of his +body. He looked almost with apprehension about him. This malignant, internal +heat was astounding. It was a marvel that the cabin did not burst into flames. +He had a feeling as if of being in a huge bake oven where the heat might at +any moment increase tremendously and shrivel him up like a blade of grass. + +As he lifted one foot and rubbed the hot sole against the leg of his trousers, +the mate laughed in a savage, snarling fashion. + +"The anteroom of hell," he said. "Hell herself is right down there under your +feet." + +"It's hot!" McCoy cried involuntarily, mopping his face with a bandana +handkerchief. + +"Here's Mangareva," the captain said, bending over the table and pointing to a +black speck in the midst of the white blankness of the chart. "And here, in +between, is another island. Why not run for that?" + +McCoy did not look at the chart. + +"That's Crescent Island," he answered. "It is uninhabited, and it is only two +or three feet above water. Lagoon, but no entrance. No, Mangareva is the +nearest place for your purpose." + +"Mangareva it is, then," said Captain Davenport, interrupting the mate's +growling objection. "Call the crew aft, Mr. Konig." + +The sailors obeyed, shuffling wearily along the deck and painfully endeavoring +to make haste. Exhaustion was evident in every movement. The cook came out of +his galley to hear, and the cabin boy hung about near him. + +When Captain Davenport had explained the situation and announced his intention +of running for Mangareva, an uproar broke out. Against a background of +throaty rumbling arose inarticulate cries of rage, with here and there a +distinct curse, or word, or phrase. A shrill Cockney voice soared and +dominated for a moment, crying: "Gawd! After bein' in ell for fifteen +days--an' now e wants us to sail this floatin' ell to sea again?" + +The captain could not control them, but McCoy's gentle presence seemed to +rebuke and calm them, and the muttering and cursing died away, until the full +crew, save here and there an anxious face directed at the captain, yearned +dumbly toward the green clad peaks and beetling coast of Pitcairn. + +Soft as a spring zephyr was the voice of McCoy: + +"Captain, I thought I heard some of them say they were starving." + +"Ay," was the answer, "and so we are. I've had a sea biscuit and a spoonful of +salmon in the last two days. We're on whack. You see, when we discovered the +fire, we battened down immediately to suffocate the fire. And then we found +how little food there was in the pantry. But it was too late. We didn't dare +break out the lazarette. Hungry? I'm just as hungry as they are." + +He spoke to the men again, and again the throat rumbling and cursing arose, +their faces convulsed and animal-like with rage. The second and third mates +had joined the captain, standing behind him at the break of the poop. Their +faces were set and expressionless; they seemed bored, more than anything else, +by this mutiny of the crew. Captain Davenport glanced questioningly at his +first mate, and that person merely shrugged his shoulders in token of his +helplessness. + +"You see," the captain said to McCoy, "you can't compel sailors to leave the +safe land and go to sea on a burning vessel. She has been their floating +coffin for over two weeks now. They are worked out, and starved out, and +they've got enough of her. We'll beat up for Pitcairn." + +But the wind was light, the Pyrenees' bottom was foul, and she could not beat +up against the strong westerly current. At the end of two hours she had lost +three miles. The sailors worked eagerly, as if by main strength they could +compel the PYRENEES against the adverse elements. But steadily, port tack and +starboard tack, she sagged off to the westward. The captain paced restlessly +up and down, pausing occasionally to survey the vagrant smoke wisps and to +trace them back to the portions of the deck from which they sprang. The +carpenter was engaged constantly in attempting to locate such places, and, +when he succeeded, in calking them tighter and tighter. + +"Well, what do you think?" the captain finally asked McCoy, who was watching +the carpenter with all a child's interest and curiosity in his eyes. + +McCoy looked shoreward, where the land was disappearing in the thickening +haze. + +"I think it would be better to square away for Mangareva. With that breeze +that is coming, you'll be there tomorrow evening." + +"But what if the fire breaks out? It is liable to do it any moment." + +"Have your boats ready in the falls. The same breeze will carry your boats to +Mangareva if the ship burns out from under." + +Captain Davenport debated for a moment, and then McCoy heard the question he +had not wanted to hear, but which he knew was surely coming. + +"I have no chart of Mangareva. On the general chart it is only a fly speck. I +would not know where to look for the entrance into the lagoon. Will you come +along and pilot her in for me?" + +McCoy's serenity was unbroken. + +"Yes, Captain," he said, with the same quiet unconcern with which he would +have accepted an invitation to dinner; "I'll go with you to Mangareva." + +Again the crew was called aft, and the captain spoke to them from the break of +the poop. + +"We've tried to work her up, but you see how we've lost ground. She's setting +off in a two-knot current. This gentleman is the Honorable McCoy, Chief +Magistrate and Governor of Pitcairn Island. He will come along with us to +Mangareva. So you see the situation is not so dangerous. He would not make +such an offer if he thought he was going to lose his life. Besides, whatever +risk there is, if he of his own free will come on board and take it, we can do +no less. What do you say for Mangareva?" + +This time there was no uproar. 'mcCoy's presence, the surety and calm that +seemed to radiate from him, had had its effect. They conferred with one +another in low voices. There was little urging. They were virtually unanimous, +and they shoved the Cockney out as their spokesman. That worthy was +overwhelmed with consciousness of the heroism of himself and his mates, and +with flashing eyes he cried: + +"By Gawd! If 'e will, we will!" + +The crew mumbled its assent and started forward. + +"One moment, Captain," McCoy said, as the other was turning to give orders to +the mate. "I must go ashore first." + +Mr. Konig was thunderstruck, staring at McCoy as if he were a madman. + +"Go ashore!" the captain cried. "What for? It will take you three hours to get +there in your canoe." + +McCoy measured the distance of the land away, and nodded. + +"Yes, it is six now. I won't get ashore till nine. The people cannot be +assembled earlier than ten. As the breeze freshens up tonight, you can begin +to work up against it, and pick me up at daylight tomorrow morning." + +"In the name of reason and common sense," the captain burst forth, "what do +you want to assemble the people for? Don't you realize that my ship is burning +beneath me?" + +McCoy was as placid as a summer sea, and the other's anger produced not the +slightest ripple upon it. + +"Yes, Captain," he cooed in his dove-like voice. "I do realize that your ship +is burning. That is why I am going with you to Mangareva. But I must get +permission to go with you. It is our custom. It is an important matter when +the governor leaves the island. The people's interests are at stake, and so +they have the right to vote their permission or refusal. But they will give +it, I know that." + +"Are you sure?" + +"Quite sure." + +"Then if you know they will give it, why bother with getting it? Think of the +delay--a whole night." + +"It is our custom," was the imperturbable reply. "Also, I am the governor, and +I must make arrangements for the conduct of the island during my absence." + +"But it is only a twenty-four hour run to Mangareva," the captain objected. +"Suppose it took you six times that long to return to windward; that would +bring you back by the end of a week." + +McCoy smiled his large, benevolent smile. + +"Very few vessels come to Pitcairn, and when they do, they are usually from +San Francisco or from around the Horn. I shall be fortunate if I get back in +six months. I may be away a year, and I may have to go to San Francisco in +order to find a vessel that will bring me back. 'my father once left Pitcairn +to be gone three months, and two years passed before he could get back. Then, +too, you are short of food. If you have to take to the boats, and the weather +comes up bad, you may be days in reaching land. I can bring off two canoe +loads of food in the morning. Dried bananas will be best. As the breeze +freshens, you beat up against it. The nearer you are, the bigger loads I can +bring off. Goodby." + +He held out his hand. The captain shook it, and was reluctant to let go. He +seemed to cling to it as a drowning sailor clings to a life buoy. + +"How do I know you will come back in the morning?" he asked. + +"Yes, that's it!" cried the mate. "How do we know but what he's skinning out +to save his own hide?" + +McCoy did not speak. He looked at them sweetly and benignantly, and it seemed +to them that they received a message from his tremendous certitude of soul. + +The captain released his hand, and, with a last sweeping glance that embraced +the crew in its benediction, McCoy went over the rail and descended into his +canoe. + +The wind freshened, and the Pyrenees, despite the foulness of her bottom, won +half a dozen miles away from the westerly current. At daylight, with Pitcairn +three miles to windward, Captain Davenport made out two canoes coming off to +him. Again McCoy clambered up the side and dropped over the rail to the hot +deck. He was followed by many packages of dried bananas, each package wrapped +in dry leaves. + +"Now, Captain," he said, "swing the yards and drive for dear life. You see, I +am no navigator," he explained a few minutes later, as he stood by the captain +aft, the latter with gaze wandering from aloft to overside as he estimated the +Pyrenees' speed. "You must fetch her to Mangareva. When you have picked up the +land, then I will pilot her in. What do you think she is making?" + +"Eleven," Captain Davenport answered, with a final glance at the water rushing +past. + +"Eleven. Let me see, if she keeps up that gait, we'll sight Mangareva between +eight and nine o'clock tomorrow morning. I'll have her on the beach by ten or +by eleven at latest. And then your troubles will be all over." + +It almost seemed to the captain that the blissful moment had already arrived, +such was the persuasive convincingness of McCoy. + +Captain Davenport had been under the fearful strain of navigating his burning +ship for over two weeks, and he was beginning to feel that he had had enough. + +A heavier flaw of wind struck the back of his neck and whistled by his ears. +He measured the weight of it, and looked quickly overside. + +"The wind is making all the time," he announced. "The old girl's doing nearer +twelve than eleven right now. If this keeps up, we'll be shortening down +tonight." + +All day the Pyrenees, carrying her load of living fire, tore across the +foaming sea. By nightfall, royals and topgallantsails were in, and she flew on +into the darkness, with great, crested seas roaring after her. The auspicious +wind had had its effect, and fore and aft a visible brightening was apparent. +In the second dog-watch some careless soul started a song, and by eight bells +the whole crew was singing. + +Captain Davenport had his blankets brought up and spread on top the house. + +"I've forgotten what sleep is," he explained to McCoy. "I'm all in. But give +me a call at any time you think necessary." + +At three in the morning he was aroused by a gentle tugging at his arm. He sat +up quickly, bracing himself against the skylight, stupid yet from his heavy +sleep. The wind was thrumming its war song in the rigging, and a wild sea was +buffeting the PYRENEES. Amidships she was wallowing first one rail under and +then the other, flooding the waist more often than not. 'mcCoy was shouting +something he could not hear. He reached out, clutched the other by the +shoulder, and drew him close so that his own ear was close to the other's +lips. + +"It's three o'clock," came McCoy's voice, still retaining its dovelike +quality, but curiously muffled, as if from a long way off. "We've run two +hundred and fifty. Crescent Island is only thirty miles away, somewhere there +dead ahead. There's no lights on it. If we keep running, we'll pile up, and +lose ourselves as well as the ship." + +"What d' ye think--heave to?" + +"Yes; heave to till daylight. It will only put us back four hours." + +So the Pyrenees, with her cargo of fire, was hove to, bitting the teeth of the +gale and fighting and smashing the pounding seas. She was a shell, filled +with a conflagration, and on the outside of the shell, clinging precariously, +the little motes of men, by pull and haul, helped her in the battle. + +"It is most unusual, this gale," McCoy told the captain, in the lee of the +cabin. "By rights there should be no gale at this time of the year. But +everything about the weather has been unusual. There has been a stoppage of +the trades, and now it's howling right out of the trade quarter." He waved his +hand into the darkness, as if his vision could dimly penetrate for hundreds of +miles. "It is off to the westward. There is something big making off there +somewhere--a hurricane or something. We're lucky to be so far to the eastward. +But this is only a little blow," he added. "It can't last. I can tell you that +much." + +By daylight the gale had eased down to normal. But daylight revealed a new +danger. It had come on thick. The sea was covered by a fog, or, rather, by a +pearly mist that was fog-like in density, in so far as it obstructed vision, +but that was no more than a film on the sea, for the sun shot it through and +filled it with a glowing radiance. + +The deck of the Pyrenees was making more smoke than on the preceding day, and +the cheerfulness of officers and crew had vanished. In the lee of the galley +the cabin boy could be heard whimpering. It was his first voyage, and the fear +of death was at his heart. The captain wandered about like a lost soul, +nervously chewing his mustache, scowling, unable to make up his mind what to +do. + +"What do you think?" he asked, pausing by the side of McCoy, who was making a +breakfast off fried bananas and a mug of water. + +McCoy finished the last banana, drained the mug, and looked slowly around. In +his eyes was a smile of tenderness as he said: + +"Well, Captain, we might as well drive as burn. Your decks are not going to +hold out forever. They are hotter this morning. You haven't a pair of shoes I +can wear? It is getting uncomfortable for my bare feet." + +The Pyrenees shipped two heavy seas as she was swung off and put once more +before it, and the first mate expressed a desire to have all that water down +in the hold, if only it could be introduced without taking off the hatches. +'mcCoy ducked his head into the binnacle and watched the course set. + +"I'd hold her up some more, Captain," he said. "She's been making drift when +hove to." + +"I've set it to a point higher already," was the answer. "Isn't that enough?" + +"I'd make it two points, Captain. This bit of a blow kicked that westerly +current ahead faster than you imagine." + +Captain Davenport compromised on a point and a half, and then went aloft, +accompanied by McCoy and the first mate, to keep a lookout for land. Sail had +been made, so that the Pyrenees was doing ten knots. The following sea was +dying down rapidly. There was no break in the pearly fog, and by ten o'clock +Captain Davenport was growing nervous. Al l hands were at their stations, +ready, at the first warning of land ahead, to spring like fiends to the task +of bringing the Pyrenees up on the wind. That land ahead, a surf-washed outer +reef, would be perilously close when it revealed itself in such a fog. + +Another hour passed. The three watchers aloft stared intently into the pearly +radiance."What if we miss Mangareva?" Captain Davenport asked abruptly. + +McCoy, without shifting his gaze, answered softly: + +"Why, let her drive, captain. That is all we can do. All the Paumotus are +before us. We can drive for a thousand miles through reefs and atolls. We are +bound to fetch up somewhere." + +"Then drive it is." Captain Davenport evidenced his intention of descending to +the deck. "We've missed Mangareva. God knows where the next land is. I wish +I'd held her up that other half-point," he confessed a moment later. "This +cursed current plays the devil with a navigator." + +"The old navigators called the Paumotus the Dangerous Archipelago," McCoy +said, when they had regained the poop. "This very current was partly +responsible for that name." + +"I was talking with a sailor chap in Sydney, once," said Mr. Konig. "He'd been +trading in the Paumotus. He told me insurance was eighteen per cent. Is that +right?" + +McCoy smiled and nodded. + +"Except that they don't insure," he explained. "The owners write off twenty +per cent of the cost of their schooners each year." + +"My God!" Captain Davenport groaned. "That makes the life of a schooner only +five years!" He shook his head sadly, murmuring, "Bad waters! Bad waters!" + +Again they went into the cabin to consult the big general chart; but the +poisonous vapors drove them coughing and gasping on deck. + +"Here is Moerenhout Island," Captain Davenport pointed it out on the chart, +which he had spread on the house. "It can't be more than a hundred miles to +leeward." + +"A hundred and ten." 'mcCoy shook his head doubtfully. "It might be done, but +it is very difficult. I might beach her, and then again I might put her on the +reef. A bad place, a very bad place." + +"We'll take the chance," was Captain Davenport's decision, as he set about +working out the course. + +Sail was shortened early in the afternoon, to avoid running past in the night; +and in the second dog-watch the crew manifested its regained cheerfulness. +Land was so very near, and their troubles would be over in the morning. + +But morning broke clear, with a blazing tropic sun. The southeast trade had +swung around to the eastward, and was driving the PYRENEES through the water +at an eight-knot clip. Captain Davenport worked up his dead reckoning, +allowing generously for drift, and announced Moerenhout Island to be not more +than ten miles off. The Pyrenees sailed the ten miles; she sailed ten miles +more; and the lookouts at the three mastheads saw naught but the naked, +sun-washed sea. + +"But the land is there, I tell you," Captain Davenport shouted to them from +the poop. + +McCoy smiled soothingly, but the captain glared about him like a madman, +fetched his sextant, and took a chronometer sight. + +"I knew I was right, he almost shouted, when he had worked up the observation. +"Twenty-one, fifty-five, south; one-thirty-six, two, west. There you are. +We're eight miles to windward yet. What did you make it out, Mr. Konig?" + +The first mate glanced at his own figures, and said in a low voice: + +"Twenty-one, fifty-five all right; but my longitude's one-thirty-six, +forty-eight. That puts us considerably to leeward--" + +But Captain Davenport ignored his figures with so contemptuous a silence as to +make Mr. Konig grit his teeth and curse savagely under his breath. + +"Keep her off," the captain ordered the man at the wheel. "Three +points--steady there, as she goes!" + +Then he returned to his figures and worked them over. The sweat poured from +his face. He chewed his mustache, his lips, and his pencil, staring at the +figures as a man might at a ghost. Suddenly, with a fierce, muscular outburst, +he crumpled the scribbled paper in his fist and crushed it under foot. 'mr. +Konig grinned vindictively and turned away, while Captain Davenport leaned +against the cabin and for half an hour spoke no word, contenting himself with +gazing to leeward with an expression of musing hopelessness on his face. + +"Mr. McCoy," he broke silence abruptly. "The chart indicates a group of +islands, but not how many, off there to the north'ard, or nor'-nor'westward, +about forty miles--the Acteon Islands. What about them?" + +"There are four, all low," McCoy answered. "First to the southeast is +Matuerui--no people, no entrance to the lagoon. Then comes Tenarunga. There +used to be about a dozen people there, but they may be all gone now. Anyway, +there is no entrance for a ship--only a boat entrance, with a fathom of water. +Vehauga and Teua-raro are the other two. No entrances, no people, very low. +There is no bed for the Pyrenees in that group. She would be a total wreck." + +"Listen to that!" Captain Davenport was frantic. "No people! No entrances! +What in the devil are islands good for? + +"Well, then, he barked suddenly, like an excited terrier, "the chart gives a +whole mess of islands off to the nor'west. What about them? What one has an +entrance where I can lay my ship?" + +McCoy calmly considered. He did not refer to the chart. All these islands, +reefs, shoals, lagoons, entrances, and distances were marked on the chart of +his memory. He knew them as the city dweller knows his buildings, streets, and +alleys. + +"Papakena and Vanavana are off there to the westward, or west-nor'westward a +hundred miles and a bit more," he said. "One is uninhabited, and I heard that +the people on the other had gone off to Cadmus Island. Anyway, neither lagoon +has an entrance. Ahunui is another hundred miles on to the nor'west. No +entrance, no people." + +"Well, forty miles beyond them are two islands?" Captain Davenport queried, +raising his head from the chart. + +McCoy shook his head. + +"Paros and Manuhungi--no entrances, no people. Nengo-Nengo is forty miles +beyond them, in turn, and it has no people and no entrance. But there is Hao +Island. It is just the place. The lagoon is thirty miles long and five miles +wide. There are plenty of people. You can usually find water. And any ship in +the world can go through the entrance." + +He ceased and gazed solicitously at Captain Davenport, who, bending over the +chart with a pair of dividers in hand, had just emitted a low groan. + +"Is there any lagoon with an entrance anywhere nearer than Hao Island?" he +asked. + +"No, Captain; that is the nearest." + +"Well, it's three hundred and forty miles." Captain Davenport was speaking +very slowly, with decision. "I won't risk the responsibility of all these +lives. I'll wreck her on the Acteons. And she's a good ship, too," he added +regretfully, after altering the course, this time making more allowance than +ever for the westerly current. + +An hour later the sky was overcast. The southeast trade still held, but the +ocean was a checker board of squalls. + +"We'll be there by one o'clock," Captain Davenport announced confidently. "By +two o'clock at the outside. 'mcCoy, you put her ashore on the one where the +people are." + +The sun did not appear again, nor, at one o'clock, was any land to be seen. +Captain Davenport looked astern at the Pyrenees' canting wake. + +"Good Lord!" he cried. "An easterly current? Look at that!" + +Mr. Konig was incredulous. 'mcCoy was noncommittal, though he said that in the +Paumotus there was no reason why it should not be an easterly current. A few +minutes later a squall robbed the Pyrenees temporarily of all her wind, and +she was left rolling heavily in the trough. + +"Where's that deep lead? Over with it, you there!" Captain Davenport held the +lead line and watched it sag off to the northeast. "There, look at that! Take +hold of it for yourself." + +McCoy and the mate tried it, and felt the line thrumming and vibrating +savagely to the grip of the tidal stream. + +"A four-knot current," said Mr. Konig. + +"An easterly current instead of a westerly," said Captain "Davenport, glaring +accusingly at McCoy, as if to cast the blame for it upon him. + +"That is one of the reasons, Captain, for insurance being eighteen per cent in +these waters," McCoy answered cheerfully. "You can never tell. The currents +are always changing. There was a man who wrote books, I forget his name, in +the yacht Casco. + +He missed Takaroa by thirty miles and fetched Tikei, all because of the +shifting currents. You are up to windward now, and you'd better keep off a few +points." + +"But how much has this current set me?" the captain demanded irately. "How am +I to know how much to keep off?" + +"I don't know, Captain," McCoy said with great gentleness. + +The wind returned, and the PYRENEES, her deck smoking and shimmering in the +bright gray light, ran off dead to leeward. Then she worked back, port tack +and starboard tack, crisscrossing her track, combing the sea for the Acteon +Islands, which the masthead lookouts failed to sight. + +Captain Davenport was beside himself. His rage took the form of sullen +silence, and he spent the afternoon in pacing the poop or leaning against the +weather shrouds. At nightfall, without even consulting McCoy, he squared away +and headed into the northwest. Mr. Konig, surreptitiously consulting chart +and binnacle, and McCoy, openly and innocently consulting the binnacle, knew +that they were running for Hao Island. By midnight the squalls ceased, and the +stars came out. Captain Davenport was cheered by the promise of a clear day. + +"I'll get an observation in the morning," he told McCoy, "though what my +latitude is, is a puzzler. But I'll use the Sumner method, and settle that. Do +you know the Sumner line?" + +And thereupon he explained it in detail to McCoy. + +The day proved clear, the trade blew steadily out of the east, and the +Pyrenees just as steadily logged her nine knots. Both the captain and mate +worked out the position on a Sumner line, and agreed, and at noon agreed +again, and verified the morning sights by the noon sights. + +"Another twenty-four hours and we'll be there," Captain Davenport assured +McCoy. :"It's a miracle the way the old girl's decks hold out. But they can't +last. They can't last. Look at them smoke, more and more every day. Yet it was +a tight deck to begin with, fresh-calked in Frisco. I was surprised when the +fire first broke out and we battened down. Look at that!" + +He broke off to gaze with dropped jaw at a spiral of smoke that coiled and +twisted in the lee of the mizzenmast twenty feet above the deck. + +"Now, how did that get there?" he demanded indignantly. + +Beneath it there was no smoke. Crawling up from the deck, sheltered from the +wind by the mast, by some freak it took form and visibility at that height. It +writhed away from the mast, and for a moment overhung the captain like some +threatening portent. The next moment the wind whisked it away, and the +captain's jaw returned to place. + +"As I was saying, when we first battened down, I was surprised. It was a +tight deck, yet it leaked smoke like a sieve. And we've calked and calked ever +since. There must be tremendous pressure underneath to drive so much smoke +through." + +That afternoon the sky became overcast again, and squally, drizzly weather set +in. The wind shifted back and forth between southeast and northeast, and at +midnight the Pyrenees was caught aback by a sharp squall from the southwest, +from which point the wind continued to blow intermittently. + +"We won't make Hao until ten or eleven," Captain Davenport complained at seven +in the morning, when the fleeting promise of the sun had been erased by hazy +cloud masses in the eastern sky. And the next moment he was plaintively +demanding, "And what are the currents doing?" + +Lookouts at the mastheads could report no land, and the day passed in +drizzling calms and violent squalls. By nightfall a heavy sea began to make +from the west. The barometer had fallen to 29.50. There was no wind, and still +the ominous sea continued to increase. Soon the Pyrenees was rolling madly in +the huge waves that marched in an unending procession from out of the darkness +of the west. Sail was shortened as fast as both watches could work, and, when +the tired crew had finished, its grumbling and complaining voices, peculiarly +animal-like and menacing, could be heard in the darkness. Once the starboard +watch was called aft to lash down and make secure, and the men openly +advertised their sullenness and unwillingness. Every slow movement was a +protest and a threat. The atmosphere was moist and sticky like mucilage, and +in the absence of wind all hands seemed to pant and gasp for air. The sweat +stood out on faces and bare arms, and Captain Davenport for one, his face more +gaunt and care-worn than ever, and his eyes troubled and staring, was +oppressed by a feeling of impending calamity. + +"It's off to the westward," McCoy said encouragingly. "At worst, we'll be only +on the edge of it." + +But Captain Davenport refused to be comforted, and by the light of a lantern +read up the chapter in his Epitome that related to the strategy of shipmasters +in cyclonic storms. From somewhere amidships the silence was broken by a low +whimpering from the cabin boy. + +"Oh, shut up!" Captain Davenport yelled suddenly and with such force as to +startle every man on board and to frighten the offender into a wild wail of +terror. + +"Mr. Konig," the captain said in a voice that trembled with rage and nerves, +"will you kindly step for'ard and stop that brat's mouth with a deck mop?" + +But it was McCoy who went forward, and in a few minutes had the boy comforted +and asleep. + +Shortly before daybreak the first breath of air began to move from out the +southeast, increasing swiftly to a stiff and stiffer breeze. All hands were on +deck waiting for what might be behind it. "We're all right now, Captain," said +McCoy, standing close to his shoulder. "The hurricane is to the west'ard, and +we are south of it. This breeze is the in-suck. It won't blow any harder. You +can begin to put sail on her." + +"But what's the good? Where shall I sail? This is the second day without +observations, and we should have sighted Hao Island yesterday morning. Which +way does it bear, north, south, east, or what? Tell me that, and I'll make +sail in a jiffy." + +"I am no navigator, Captain," McCoy said in his mild way. + +"I used to think I was one," was the retort, "before I got into these +Paumotus." + +At midday the cry of "Breakers ahead!" was heard from the lookout. The +Pyrenees was kept off, and sail after sail was loosed and sheeted home. The +Pyrenees was sliding through the water and fighting a current that threatened +to set her down upon the breakers. Officers and men were working like mad, +cook and cabin boy, Captain Davenport himself, and McCoy all lending a hand. +It was a close shave. It was a low shoal, a bleak and perilous place over +which the seas broke unceasingly, where no man could live, and on which not +even sea birds could rest. The PYRENEES was swept within a hundred yards of it +before the wind carried her clear, and at this moment the panting crew, its +work done, burst out in a torrent of curses upon the head of McCoy --of McCoy +who had come on board, and proposed the run to Mangareva, and lured them all +away from the safety of Pitcairn Island to certain destruction in this +baffling and terrible stretch of sea. But McCoy's tranquil soul was +undisturbed. He smiled at them with simple and gracious benevolence, and, +somehow, the exalted goodness of him seemed to penetrate to their dark and +somber souls, shaming them, and from very shame stilling the curses vibrating +in their throats. + +"Bad waters! Bad waters!" Captain Davenport was murmuring as his ship forged +clear; but he broke off abruptly to gaze at the shoal which should have been +dead astern, but which was already on the PYRENEES' weather-quarter and +working up rapidly to windward. + +He sat down and buried his face in his hands. And the first mate saw, and +McCoy saw, and the crew saw, what he had seen. South of the shoal an easterly +current had set them down upon it; north of the shoal an equally swift +westerly current had clutched the ship and was sweeping her away. + +"I've heard of these Paumotus before," the captain groaned, lifting his +blanched face from his hands. "Captain Moyendale told me about them after +losing his ship on them. And I laughed at him behind his back. God forgive me, +I laughed at him. What shoal is that?" he broke off, to ask McCoy. + +"I don't know, Captain." + +"Why don't you know?" + +"Because I never saw it before, and because I have never heard of it. I do +know that it is not charted. These waters have never been thoroughly +surveyed." + +"Then you don't know where we are?" + +"No more than you do," McCoy said gently. + +At four in the afternoon cocoanut trees were sighted, apparently growing out +of the water. A little later the low land of an atoll was raised above the +sea. + +"I know where we are now, Captain." McCoy lowered the glasses from his eyes. +"That's Resolution Island. We are forty miles beyond Hao Island, and the wind +is in our teeth." + +"Get ready to beach her then. Where's the entrance?" + +"There's only a canoe passage. But now that we know where we are, we can run +for Barclay de Tolley. It is only one hundred and twenty miles from here, due +nor'-nor'west. With this breeze we can be there by nine o'clock tomorrow +morning." + +Captain Davenport consulted the chart and debated with himself. + +"If we wreck her here," McCoy added, "we'd have to make the run to Barclay de +Tolley in the boats just the same." + +The captain gave his orders, and once more the Pyrenees swung off for another +run across the inhospitable sea. + +And the middle of the next afternoon saw despair and mutiny on her smoking +deck. The current had accelerated, the wind had slackened, and the Pyrenees +had sagged off to the west. The lookout sighted Barclay de Tolley to the +eastward, barely visible from the masthead, and vainly and for hours the +PYRENEES tried to beat up to it. Ever, like a mirage, the cocoanut trees +hovered on the horizon, visible only from the masthead. From the deck they +were hidden by the bulge of the world. + +Again Captain Davenport consulted McCoy and the chart. 'makemo lay +seventy-five miles to the southwest. Its lagoon was thirty miles long, and its +entrance was excellent. When Captain Davenport gave his orders, the crew +refused duty. They announced that they had had enough of hell fire under their +feet. There was the land. What if the ship could not make it? They could make +it in the boats. Let her burn, then. Their lives amounted to something to +them. They had served faithfully the ship, now they were going to serve +themselves. + +They sprang to the boats, brushing the second and third mates out of the way, +and proceeded to swing the boats out and to prepare to lower away. Captain +Davenport and the first mate, revolvers in hand, were advancing to the break +of the poop, when McCoy, who had climbed on top of the cabin, began to speak. + +He spoke to the sailors, and at the first sound of his dovelike, cooing voice +they paused to hear. He extended to them his own ineffable serenity and peace. +His soft voice and simple thoughts flowed out to them in a magic stream, +soothing them against their wills. Long forgotten things came back to them, +and some remembered lullaby songs of childhood and the content and rest of the +mother's arm at the end of the day. There was no more trouble, no more danger, +no more irk, in all the world. Everything was as it should be, and it was +only a matter of course that they should turn their backs upon the land and +put to sea once more with hell fire hot beneath their feet. + +McCoy spoke simply; but it was not what he spoke. It was his personality that +spoke more eloquently than any word he could utter. It was an alchemy of soul +occultly subtile and profoundly deep--a mysterious emanation of the spirit, +seductive, sweetly humble, and terribly imperious. It was illumination in the +dark crypts of their souls, a compulsion of purity and gentleness vastly +greater than that which resided in the shining, death-spitting revolvers of +the officers. + +The men wavered reluctantly where they stood, and those who had loosed the +turns made them fast again. Then one, and then another, and then all of them, +began to sidle awkwardly away. + +McCoy's face was beaming with childlike pleasure as he descended from the top +of the cabin. Thee was no trouble. For that matter there had been no trouble +averted. There never had been any trouble, for there was no place for such in +the blissful world in which he lived. + +"You hypnotized em," Mr. Konig grinned at him, speaking in a low voice. + +"Those boys are good," was the answer. "Their hearts are good. They have had +a hard time, and they have worked hard, and they will work hard to the end." + +Mr. Konig had not time to reply. His voice was ringing out orders, the sailors +were springing to obey, and the PYRENEES was paying slowly off from the wind +until her bow should point in the direction of Makemo. + +The wind was very light, and after sundown almost ceased. It was insufferably +warm, and fore and aft men sought vainly to sleep. The deck was too hot to +lie upon, and poisonous vapors, oozing through the seams, crept like evil +spirits over the ship, stealing into the nostrils and windpipes of the unwary +and causing fits of sneezing and coughing. The stars blinked lazily in the dim +vault overhead; and the full moon, rising in the east, touched with its light +the myriads of wisps and threads and spidery films of smoke that intertwined +and writhed and twisted along the deck, over the rails, and up the masts and +shrouds. + +"Tell me," Captain Davenport said, rubbing his smarting eyes, "what happened +with that BOUNTY crowd after they reached Pitcairn? The account I read said +they burnt the Bounty, and that they were not discovered until many years +later. But what happened in the meantime? I've always been curious to know. +They were men with their necks in the rope. There were some native men, too. +And then there were women. That made it look like trouble right from the +jump." + +"There was trouble," McCoy answered. "They were bad men. They quarreled about +the women right away. One of the mutineers, Williams, lost his wife. All the +women were Tahitian women. His wife fell from the cliffs when hunting sea +birds. Then he took the wife of one of the native men away from him. All the +native men were made very angry by this, and they killed off nearly all the +mutineers. Then the mutineers that escaped killed off all the native men. The +women helped. And the natives killed each other. Everybody killed everybody. +They were terrible men. + +"Timiti was killed by two other natives while they were combing his hair in +friendship. The white men had sent them to do it. Then the white men killed +them. The wife of Tullaloo killed him in a cave because she wanted a white man +for husband. They were very wicked. God had hidden His face from them. At the +end of two years all the native men were murdered, and all the white men +except four. They were Young, John Adams, McCoy, who was my great-grandfather, +and Quintal. He was a very bad man, too. Once, just because his wife did not +catch enough fish for him, he bit off her ear." + +"They were a bad lot!" Mr. Konig exclaimed. + +"Yes, they were very bad," McCoy agreed and went on serenely cooing of the +blood and lust of his iniquitous ancestry. "My great-grandfather escaped +murder in order to die by his own hand. He made a still and manufactured +alcohol from the roots of the ti-plant. Quintal was his chum, and they got +drunk together all the time. At last McCoy got delirium tremens, tied a rock +to his neck, and jumped into the sea. + +"Quintal's wife, the one whose ear he bit off, also got killed by falling from +the cliffs. Then Quintal went to Young and demanded his wife, and went to +Adams and demanded his wife. Adams and Young were afraid of Quintal. They knew +he would kill them. So they killed him, the two of them together, with a +hatchet. Then Young died. And that was about all the trouble they had." + +"I should say so," Captain Davenport snorted. "There was nobody left to kill." + +"You see, God had hidden His face," McCoy said. + +By morning no more than a faint air was blowing from the eastward, and, unable +to make appreciable southing by it, Captain Davenport hauled up full-and-by on +the port track. He was afraid of that terrible westerly current which had +cheated him out of so many ports of refuge. All day the calm continued, and +all night, while the sailors, on a short ration of dried banana, were +grumbling. Also, they were growing weak and complaining of stomach pains +caused by the straight banana diet. All day the current swept the PYRENEES to +the westward, while there was no wind to bear her south. In the middle of the +first dogwatch, cocoanut trees were sighted due south, their tufted heads +rising above the water and marking the low-lying atoll beneath. + +"That is Taenga Island," McCoy said. "We need a breeze tonight, or else we'll +miss Makemo." + +"What's become of the southeast trade?" the captain demanded. "Why don't it +blow? What's the matter?" + +"It is the evaporation from the big lagoons--there are so many of them," McCoy +explained. The evaporation upsets the whole system of trades. It even causes +the wind to back up and blow gales from the southwest. This is the Dangerous +Archipelago, Captain." + +Captain Davenport faced the old man, opened his mouth, and was about to curse, +but paused and refrained. 'mcCoy's presence was a rebuke to the blasphemies +that stirred in his brain and trembled in his larynx. 'mcCoy's influence had +been growing during the many days they had been together. Captain Davenport +was an autocrat of the sea, fearing no man, never bridling his tongue, and now +he found himself unable to curse in the presence of this old man with the +feminine brown eyes and the voice of a dove. When he realized this, Captain +Davenport experienced a distinct shock. This old man was merely the seed of +McCoy, of McCoy of the BOUNTY, the mutineer fleeing from the hemp that waited +him in England, the McCoy who was a power for evil in the early days of blood +and lust and violent death on Pitcairn Island. + +Captain Davenport was not religious, yet in that moment he felt a mad impulse +to cast himself at the other's feet--and to say he knew not what. It was an +emotion that so deeply stirred him, rather than a coherent thought, and he was +aware in some vague way of his own unworthiness and smallness in the presence +of this other man who possessed the simplicity of a child and the gentleness +of a woman. + +Of course he could not so humble himself before the eyes of his officers and +men. And yet the anger that had prompted the blasphemy still raged in him. He +suddenly smote the cabin with his clenched hand and cried: + +"Look here, old man, I won't be beaten. These Paumotus have cheated and +tricked me and made a fool of me. I refuse to be beaten. I am going to drive +this ship, and drive and drive and drive clear through the Paumotus to China +but what I find a bed for her. If every man deserts, I'll stay by her. I'll +show the Paumotus. They can't fool me. She's a good girl, and I'll stick by +her as long as there's a plank to stand on. You hear me?" + +"And I'll stay with you, Captain," McCoy said. + +During the night, light, baffling airs blew out of the south, and the frantic +captain, with his cargo of fire, watched and measured his westward drift and +went off by himself at times to curse softly so that McCoy should not hear. + +Daylight showed more palms growing out of the water to the south. + +"That's the leeward point of Makemo," McCoy said. "Katiu is only a few miles +to the west. We may make that." + +But the current, sucking between the two islands, swept them to the northwest, +and at one in the afternoon they saw the palms of Katiu rise above the sea and +sink back into the sea again. + +A few minutes later, just as the captain had discovered that a new current +from the northeast had gripped the Pyrenees, the masthead lookouts raised +cocoanut palms in the northwest. + +"It is Raraka," said McCoy. "We won't make it without wind. The current is +drawing us down to the southwest. But we must watch out. A few miles farther +on a current flows north and turns in a circle to the northwest. This will +sweep us away from Fakarava, and Fakarava is the place for the Pyrenees to +find her bed." + +"They can sweep all they da--all they well please," Captain Davenport remarked +with heat. "We'll find a bed for her somewhere just the same." + +But the situation on the Pyrenees was reaching a culmination. The deck was so +hot that it seemed an increase of a few degrees would cause it to burst into +flames. In many places even the heavy-soled shoes of the men were no +protection, and they were compelled to step lively to avoid scorching their +feet. The smoke had increased and grown more acrid. Every man on board was +suffering from inflamed eyes, and they coughed and strangled like a crew of +tuberculosis patients. In the afternoon the boats were swung out and equipped. +The last several packages of dried bananas were stored in them, as well as the +instruments of the officers. Captain Davenport even put the chronometer into +the longboat, fearing the blowing up of the deck at any moment. + +All night this apprehension weighed heavily on all, and in the first morning +light, with hollow eyes and ghastly faces, they stared at one another as if in +surprise that the Pyrenees still held together and that they still were alive. + +Walking rapidly at times, and even occasionally breaking into an undignified +hop-skip-and-run, Captain Davenport inspected his ship's deck. + +"It is a matter of hours now, if not of minutes," he announced on his return +to the poop. + +The cry of land came down from the masthead. From the deck the land was +invisible, and McCoy went aloft, while the captain took advantage of the +opportunity to curse some of the bitterness out of his heart. But the cursing +was suddenly stopped by a dark line on the water which he sighted to the +northeast. It was not a squall, but a regular breeze--the disrupted trade +wind, eight points out of its direction but resuming business once more. + +"Hold her up, Captain," McCoy said as soon as he reached the poop. "That's the +easterly point of Fakarava, and we'll go in through the passage full-tilt, the +wind abeam, and every sail drawing." + +At the end of an hour, the cocoanut trees and the low-lying land were visible +from the deck. The feeling that the end of the PYRENEES' resistance was +imminent weighed heavily on everybody. Captain Davenport had the three boats +lowered and dropped short astern, a man in each to keep them apart. The +Pyrenees closely skirted the shore, the surf-whitened atoll a bare two cable +lengths away. + +And a minute later the land parted, exposing a narrow passage and the lagoon +beyond, a great mirror, thirty miles in length and a third as broad. + +"Now, Captain." + +For the last time the yards of the Pyrenees swung around as she obeyed the +wheel and headed into the passage. The turns had scarcely been made, and +nothing had been coiled down, when the men and mates swept back to the poop in +panic terror. Nothing had happened, yet they averred that something was going +to happen. They could not tell why. They merely knew that it was about to +happen. 'mcCoy started forward to take up his position on the bow in order to +con the vessel in; but the captain gripped his arm and whirled him around. + +"Do it from here," he said. "That deck's not safe. What's the matter?" he +demanded the next instant. "We're standing still." + +McCoy smiled. + +"You are bucking a seven-knot current, Captain," he said. "That is the way the +full ebb runs out of this passage." + +At the end of another hour the Pyrenees had scarcely gained her length, but +the wind freshened and she began to forge ahead. + +"Better get into the boats, some of you," Captain Davenport commanded. + +His voice was still ringing, and the men were just beginning to move in +obedience, when the amidship deck of the Pyrenees, in a mass of flame and +smoke, was flung upward into the sails and rigging, part of it remaining there +and the rest falling into the sea. The wind being abeam, was what had saved +the men crowded aft. They made a blind rush to gain the boats, but McCoy's +voice, carrying its convincing message of vast calm and endless time, stopped +them. + +"Take it easy," he was saying. Everything is all right. Pass that boy down +somebody, please." + +The man at the wheel had forsaken it in a funk, and Captain Davenport had +leaped and caught the spokes in time to prevent the ship from yawing in the +current and going ashore. + +"Better take charge of the boats," he said to Mr. Konig. "Tow one of them +short, right under the quarter. . . . When I go over, it'll be on the jump." + +Mr. Konig hesitated, then went over the rail and lowered himself into the +boat. + +"Keep her off half a point, Captain." + +Captain Davenport gave a start. He had thought he had the ship to himself. + +"Ay, ay; half a point it is," he answered. + +Amidships the Pyrenees was an open flaming furnace, out of which poured an +immense volume of smoke which rose high above the masts and completely hid the +forward part of the ship. 'mcCoy, in the shelter of the mizzen-shrouds, +continued his difficult task of conning the ship through the intricate +channel. The fire was working aft along the deck from the seat of explosion, +while the soaring tower of canvas on the mainmast went up and vanished in a +sheet of flame. Forward, though they could not see them, they knew that the +head-sails were still drawing. + +"If only she don't burn all her canvas off before she makes inside,:" the +captain groaned. + +"She'll make it," McCoy assured him with supreme confidence. "There is plenty +of time. She is bound to make it. And once inside, we'll put her before it; +that will keep the smoke away from us and hold back the fire from working +aft." + +A tongue of flame sprang up the mizzen, reached hungrily for the lowest tier +of canvas, missed it, and vanished. From aloft a burning shred of rope stuff +fell square on the back of Captain Davenport's neck. He acted with the +celerity of one stung by a bee as he reached up and brushed the offending fire +from his skin. + +"How is she heading, Captain?" + +"Nor'west by west." + +"Keep her west-nor-west." + +Captain Davenport put the wheel up and steadied her. + +"West by north, Captain." + +"West by north she is." + +"And now west." + +Slowly, point by point, as she entered the lagoon, the PYRENEES described the +circle that put her before the wind; and point by point, with all the calm +certitude of a thousand years of time to spare, McCoy chanted the changing +course. + +"Another point, Captain." + +"A point it is." + +Captain Davenport whirled several spokes over, suddenly reversing and coming +back one to check her. + +"Steady." + +"Steady she is--right on it." + +Despite the fact that the wind was now astern, the heat was so intense that +Captain Davenport was compelled to steal sidelong glances into the binnacle, +letting go the wheel now with one hand, now with the other, to rub or shield +his blistering cheeks. + +McCoy's beard was crinkling and shriveling and the smell of it, strong in the +other's nostrils, compelled him to look toward McCoy with sudden solicitude. +Captain Davenport was letting go the spokes alternately with his hands in +order to rub their blistering backs against his trousers. Every sail on the +mizzenmast vanished in a rush of flame, compelling the two men to crouch and +shield their faces. + +"Now," said McCoy, stealing a glance ahead at the low shore, "four points up, +Captain, and let her drive." + +Shreds and patches of burning rope and canvas were falling about them and upon +them. The tarry smoke from a smouldering piece of rope at the captain's feet +set him off into a violent coughing fit, during which he still clung to the +spokes. + +The Pyrenees struck, her bow lifted and she ground ahead gently to a stop. A +shower of burning fragments, dislodged by the shock, fell about them. The ship +moved ahead again and struck a second time. She crushed the fragile coral +under her keel, drove on, and struck a third time. + +"Hard over," said McCoy. "Hard over?" he questioned gently, a minute later. + +"She won't answer," was the reply. + +"All right. She is swinging around." 'mcCoy peered over the side. "Soft, white +sand. Couldn't ask better. A beautiful bed." + +As the Pyrenees swung around her stern away from the wind, a fearful blast of +smoke and flame poured aft. Captain Davenport deserted the wheel in blistering +agony. He reached the painter of the boat that lay under the quarter, then +looked for McCoy, who was standing aside to let him go down. + +"You first," the captain cried, gripping him by the shoulder and almost +throwing him over the rail. But the flame and smoke were too terrible, and he +followed hard after McCoy, both men wriggling on the rope and sliding down +into the boat together. A sailor in the bow, without waiting for orders, +slashed the painter through with his sheath knife. The oars, poised in +readiness, bit into the water, and the boat shot away. + +"A beautiful bed, Captain," McCoy murmured, looking back. + +"Ay, a beautiful bed, and all thanks to you," was the answer. + +The three boats pulled away for the white beach of pounded coral, beyond +which, on the edge of a cocoanut grove, could be seen a half dozen grass +houses and a score or more of excited natives, gazing wide-eyed at the +conflagration that had come to land. + +The boats grounded and they stepped out on the white beach. + +"And now," said McCoy, "I must see about getting back to Pitcairn." + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of South Sea Tales, by Jack London + diff --git a/old/old/soset10.zip b/old/old/soset10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ea01025 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old/soset10.zip diff --git a/old/old/soset11.txt b/old/old/soset11.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..97cd3ce --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old/soset11.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5972 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of South Sea Tales, by Jack London +#41-48 in our series by Jack London + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: South Sea Tales + +Author: Jack London + +Release Date: February, 1998 [EBook #1208] +[This edition 11 first posted on February 28, 2004] + +Edition: 11 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII, with a few ISO-8859-1 characters + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOUTH SEA TALES *** + + + + +This e-text was typed by Theresa Armao, Albany, New York. + + + + + +SOUTH SEA TALES +by Jack London + + +CONTENTS + +The House of Mapuhi + +The Whale Tooth + +Mauki + +"Yah! Yah! Yah!" + +The Heathen + +The Terrible Solomons + +The Inevitable White Man + +The Seed of McCoy + + + + +THE HOUSE OF MAPUHI + +Despite the heavy clumsiness of her lines, the Aorai handled easily in +the light breeze, and her captain ran her well in before he hove to +just outside the suck of the surf. The atoll of Hikueru lay low on the +water, a circle of pounded coral sand a hundred yards wide, twenty +miles in circumference, and from three to five feet above high-water +mark. On the bottom of the huge and glassy lagoon was much pearl +shell, and from the deck of the schooner, across the slender ring of +the atoll, the divers could be seen at work. But the lagoon had no +entrance for even a trading schooner. With a favoring breeze cutters +could win in through the tortuous and shallow channel, but the +schooners lay off and on outside and sent in their small boats. + +The Aorai swung out a boat smartly, into which sprang half a dozen +brown-skinned sailors clad only in scarlet loincloths. They took the +oars, while in the stern sheets, at the steering sweep, stood a young +man garbed in the tropic white that marks the European. The golden +strain of Polynesia betrayed itself in the sun-gilt of his fair skin +and cast up golden sheens and lights through the glimmering blue of +his eyes. Raoul he was, Alexandre Raoul, youngest son of Marie Raoul, +the wealthy quarter-caste, who owned and managed half a dozen trading +schooners similar to the Aorai. Across an eddy just outside the +entrance, and in and through and over a boiling tide-rip, the boat +fought its way to the mirrored calm of the lagoon. Young Raoul leaped +out upon the white sand and shook hands with a tall native. The man's +chest and shoulders were magnificent, but the stump of a right arm, +beyond the flesh of which the age-whitened bone projected several +inches, attested the encounter with a shark that had put an end to his +diving days and made him a fawner and an intriguer for small favors. + +"Have you heard, Alec?" were his first words. "Mapuhi has found a +pearl--such a pearl. Never was there one like it ever fished up in +Hikueru, nor in all the Paumotus, nor in all the world. Buy it from +him. He has it now. And remember that I told you first. He is a fool +and you can get it cheap. Have you any tobacco?" + +Straight up the beach to a shack under a pandanus tree Raoul headed. +He was his mother's supercargo, and his business was to comb all the +Paumotus for the wealth of copra, shell, and pearls that they yielded +up. + +He was a young supercargo, it was his second voyage in such capacity, +and he suffered much secret worry from his lack of experience in +pricing pearls. But when Mapuhi exposed the pearl to his sight he +managed to suppress the startle it gave him, and to maintain a +careless, commercial expression on his face. For the pearl had struck +him a blow. It was large as a pigeon egg, a perfect sphere, of a +whiteness that reflected opalescent lights from all colors about it. +It was alive. Never had he seen anything like it. When Mapuhi dropped +it into his hand he was surprised by the weight of it. That showed +that it was a good pearl. He examined it closely, through a pocket +magnifying glass. It was without flaw or blemish. The purity of it +seemed almost to melt into the atmosphere out of his hand. In the +shade it was softly luminous, gleaming like a tender moon. So +translucently white was it, that when he dropped it into a glass of +water he had difficulty in finding it. So straight and swiftly had it +sunk to the bottom that he knew its weight was excellent. + +"Well, what do you want for it?" he asked, with a fine assumption of +nonchalance. + +"I want--" Mapuhi began, and behind him, framing his own dark face, +the dark faces of two women and a girl nodded concurrence in what he +wanted. Their heads were bent forward, they were animated by a +suppressed eagerness, their eyes flashed avariciously. + +"I want a house," Mapuhi went on. "It must have a roof of galvanized +iron and an octagon-drop-clock. It must be six fathoms long with a +porch all around. A big room must be in the centre, with a round table +in the middle of it and the octagon-drop-clock on the wall. There must +be four bedrooms, two on each side of the big room, and in each +bedroom must be an iron bed, two chairs, and a washstand. And back of +the house must be a kitchen, a good kitchen, with pots and pans and a +stove. And you must build the house on my island, which is Fakarava." + +"Is that all?" Raoul asked incredulously. + +"There must be a sewing machine," spoke up Tefara, Mapuhi's wife. + +"Not forgetting the octagon-drop-clock," added Nauri, Mapuhi's mother. + +"Yes, that is all," said Mapuhi. + +Young Raoul laughed. He laughed long and heartily. But while he +laughed he secretly performed problems in mental arithmetic. He had +never built a house in his life, and his notions concerning house +building were hazy. While he laughed, he calculated the cost of the +voyage to Tahiti for materials, of the materials themselves, of the +voyage back again to Fakarava, and the cost of landing the materials +and of building the house. It would come to four thousand French +dollars, allowing a margin for safety--four thousand French dollars +were equivalent to twenty thousand francs. It was impossible. How was +he to know the value of such a pearl? Twenty thousand francs was a lot +of money--and of his mother's money at that. + +"Mapuhi," he said, "you are a big fool. Set a money price." + +But Mapuhi shook his head, and the three heads behind him shook with +his. + +"I want the house," he said. "It must be six fathoms long with a porch +all around--" + +"Yes, yes," Raoul interrupted. "I know all about your house, but it +won't do. I'll give you a thousand Chili dollars." + +The four heads chorused a silent negative. + +"And a hundred Chili dollars in trade." + +"I want the house," Mapuhi began. + +"What good will the house do you?" Raoul demanded. "The first +hurricane that comes along will wash it away. You ought to know." + +"Captain Raffy says it looks like a hurricane right now." + +"Not on Fakarava," said Mapuhi. "The land is much higher there. On +this island, yes. Any hurricane can sweep Hikueru. I will have the +house on Fakarava. It must be six fathoms long with a porch all +around--" + +And Raoul listened again to the tale of the house. Several hours he +spent in the endeavor to hammer the house obsession out of Mapuhi's +mind; but Mapuhi's mother and wife, and Ngakura, Mapuhi's daughter, +bolstered him in his resolve for the house. Through the open doorway, +while he listened for the twentieth time to the detailed description +of the house that was wanted, Raoul saw his schooner's second boat +draw up on the beach. The sailors rested on the oars, advertising +haste to be gone. The first mate of the Aorai sprang ashore, exchanged +a word with the one-armed native, then hurried toward Raoul. The day +grew suddenly dark, as a squall obscured the face of the sun. Across +the lagoon Raoul could see approaching the ominous line of the puff of +wind. + +"Captain Raffy says you've got to get to hell outa here," was the +mate's greeting. "If there's any shell, we've got to run the risk of +picking it up later on--so he says. The barometer's dropped to +twenty-nine-seventy." + +The gust of wind struck the pandanus tree overhead and tore through +the palms beyond, flinging half a dozen ripe cocoanuts with heavy +thuds to the ground. Then came the rain out of the distance, advancing +with the roar of a gale of wind and causing the water of the lagoon to +smoke in driven windrows. The sharp rattle of the first drops was on +the leaves when Raoul sprang to his feet. + +"A thousand Chili dollars, cash down, Mapuhi," he said. "And two +hundred Chili dollars in trade." + +"I want a house--" the other began. + +"Mapuhi!" Raoul yelled, in order to make himself heard. "You are a +fool!" + +He flung out of the house, and, side by side with the mate, fought his +way down the beach toward the boat. They could not see the boat. The +tropic rain sheeted about them so that they could see only the beach +under their feet and the spiteful little waves from the lagoon that +snapped and bit at the sand. A figure appeared through the deluge. It +was Huru-Huru, the man with the one arm. + +"Did you get the pearl?" he yelled in Raoul's ear. + +"Mapuhi is a fool!" was the answering yell, and the next moment they +were lost to each other in the descending water. + +Half an hour later, Huru-Huru, watching from the seaward side of the +atoll, saw the two boats hoisted in and the Aorai pointing her nose +out to sea. And near her, just come in from the sea on the wings of +the squall, he saw another schooner hove to and dropping a boat into +the water. He knew her. It was the OROHENA, owned by Toriki, the +half-caste trader, who served as his own supercargo and who +doubtlessly was even then in the stern sheets of the boat. Huru-Huru +chuckled. He knew that Mapuhi owed Toriki for trade goods advanced the +year before. + +The squall had passed. The hot sun was blazing down, and the lagoon +was once more a mirror. But the air was sticky like mucilage, and the +weight of it seemed to burden the lungs and make breathing difficult. + +"Have you heard the news, Toriki?" Huru-Huru asked. "Mapuhi has found +a pearl. Never was there a pearl like it ever fished up in Hikueru, +nor anywhere in the Paumotus, nor anywhere in all the world. Mapuhi is +a fool. Besides, he owes you money. Remember that I told you first. +Have you any tobacco?" + +And to the grass shack of Mapuhi went Toriki. He was a masterful man, +withal a fairly stupid one. Carelessly he glanced at the wonderful +pearl--glanced for a moment only; and carelessly he dropped it into +his pocket. + +"You are lucky," he said. "It is a nice pearl. I will give you credit +on the books." + +"I want a house," Mapuhi began, in consternation. "It must be six +fathoms--" + +"Six fathoms your grandmother!" was the trader's retort. "You want to +pay up your debts, that's what you want. You owed me twelve hundred +dollars Chili. Very well; you owe them no longer. The amount is +squared. Besides, I will give you credit for two hundred Chili. If, +when I get to Tahiti, the pearl sells well, I will give you credit for +another hundred--that will make three hundred. But mind, only if the +pearl sells well. I may even lose money on it." + +Mapuhi folded his arms in sorrow and sat with bowed head. He had been +robbed of his pearl. In place of the house, he had paid a debt. There +was nothing to show for the pearl. + +"You are a fool," said Tefara. + +"You are a fool," said Nauri, his mother. "Why did you let the pearl +into his hand?" + +"What was I to do?" Mapuhi protested. "I owed him the money. He knew I +had the pearl. You heard him yourself ask to see it. I had not told +him. He knew. Somebody else told him. And I owed him the money." + +"Mapuhi is a fool," mimicked Ngakura. + +She was twelve years old and did not know any better. Mapuhi relieved +his feelings by sending her reeling from a box on the ear; while +Tefara and Nauri burst into tears and continued to upbraid him after +the manner of women. + +Huru-Huru, watching on the beach, saw a third schooner that he knew +heave to outside the entrance and drop a boat. It was the Hira, well +named, for she was owned by Levy, the German Jew, the greatest pearl +buyer of them all, and, as was well known, Hira was the Tahitian god +of fishermen and thieves. + +"Have you heard the news?" Huru-Huru asked, as Levy, a fat man with +massive asymmetrical features, stepped out upon the beach. "Mapuhi has +found a pearl. There was never a pearl like it in Hikueru, in all the +Paumotus, in all the world. Mapuhi is a fool. He has sold it to Toriki +for fourteen hundred Chili--I listened outside and heard. Toriki is +likewise a fool. You can buy it from him cheap. Remember that I told +you first. Have you any tobacco?" + +"Where is Toriki?" + +"In the house of Captain Lynch, drinking absinthe. He has been there +an hour." + +And while Levy and Toriki drank absinthe and chaffered over the pearl, +Huru-Huru listened and heard the stupendous price of twenty-five +thousand francs agreed upon. + +It was at this time that both the OROHENA and the Hira, running in +close to the shore, began firing guns and signalling frantically. The +three men stepped outside in time to see the two schooners go hastily +about and head off shore, dropping mainsails and flying jibs on the +run in the teeth of the squall that heeled them far over on the +whitened water. Then the rain blotted them out. + +"They'll be back after it's over," said Toriki. "We'd better be +getting out of here." + +"I reckon the glass has fallen some more," said Captain Lynch. + +He was a white-bearded sea-captain, too old for service, who had +learned that the only way to live on comfortable terms with his asthma +was on Hikueru. He went inside to look at the barometer. + +"Great God!" they heard him exclaim, and rushed in to join him at +staring at a dial, which marked twenty-nine-twenty. + +Again they came out, this time anxiously to consult sea and sky. The +squall had cleared away, but the sky remained overcast. The two +schooners, under all sail and joined by a third, could be seen making +back. A veer in the wind induced them to slack off sheets, and five +minutes afterward a sudden veer from the opposite quarter caught all +three schooners aback, and those on shore could see the boom-tackles +being slacked away or cast off on the jump. The sound of the surf was +loud, hollow, and menacing, and a heavy swell was setting in. A +terrible sheet of lightning burst before their eyes, illuminating the +dark day, and the thunder rolled wildly about them. + +Toriki and Levy broke into a run for their boats, the latter ambling +along like a panic-stricken hippopotamus. As their two boats swept out +the entrance, they passed the boat of the Aorai coming in. In the +stern sheets, encouraging the rowers, was Raoul. Unable to shake the +vision of the pearl from his mind, he was returning to accept Mapuhi's +price of a house. + +He landed on the beach in the midst of a driving thunder squall that +was so dense that he collided with Huru-Huru before he saw him. + +"Too late," yelled Huru-Huru. "Mapuhi sold it to Toriki for fourteen +hundred Chili, and Toriki sold it to Levy for twenty-five thousand +francs. And Levy will sell it in France for a hundred thousand francs. +Have you any tobacco?" + +Raoul felt relieved. His troubles about the pearl were over. He need +not worry any more, even if he had not got the pearl. But he did not +believe Huru-Huru. Mapuhi might well have sold it for fourteen hundred +Chili, but that Levy, who knew pearls, should have paid twenty-five +thousand francs was too wide a stretch. Raoul decided to interview +Captain Lynch on the subject, but when he arrived at that ancient +mariner's house, he found him looking wide-eyed at the barometer. + +"What do you read it?" Captain Lynch asked anxiously, rubbing his +spectacles and staring again at the instrument. + +"Twenty-nine-ten," said Raoul. "I have never seen it so low before." + +"I should say not!" snorted the captain. "Fifty years boy and man on +all the seas, and I've never seen it go down to that. Listen!" + +They stood for a moment, while the surf rumbled and shook the house. +Then they went outside. The squall had passed. They could see the +Aorai lying becalmed a mile away and pitching and tossing madly in the +tremendous seas that rolled in stately procession down out of the +northeast and flung themselves furiously upon the coral shore. One of +the sailors from the boat pointed at the mouth of the passage and +shook his head. Raoul looked and saw a white anarchy of foam and +surge. + +"I guess I'll stay with you tonight, Captain," he said; then turned to +the sailor and told him to haul the boat out and to find shelter for +himself and fellows. + +"Twenty-nine flat," Captain Lynch reported, coming out from another +look at the barometer, a chair in his hand. + +He sat down and stared at the spectacle of the sea. The sun came out, +increasing the sultriness of the day, while the dead calm still held. +The seas continued to increase in magnitude. + +"What makes that sea is what gets me," Raoul muttered petulantly. + +"There is no wind, yet look at it, look at that fellow there!" + +Miles in length, carrying tens of thousands of tons in weight, its +impact shook the frail atoll like an earthquake. Captain Lynch was +startled. + +"Gracious!" he bellowed, half rising from his chair, then sinking +back. + +"But there is no wind," Raoul persisted. "I could understand it if +there was wind along with it." + +"You'll get the wind soon enough without worryin' for it," was the +grim reply. + +The two men sat on in silence. The sweat stood out on their skin in +myriads of tiny drops that ran together, forming blotches of moisture, +which, in turn, coalesced into rivulets that dripped to the ground. +They panted for breath, the old man's efforts being especially +painful. A sea swept up the beach, licking around the trunks of the +cocoanuts and subsiding almost at their feet. + +"Way past high water mark," Captain Lynch remarked; "and I've been +here eleven years." He looked at his watch. "It is three o'clock." + +A man and woman, at their heels a motley following of brats and curs, +trailed disconsolately by. They came to a halt beyond the house, and, +after much irresolution, sat down in the sand. A few minutes later +another family trailed in from the opposite direction, the men and +women carrying a heterogeneous assortment of possessions. And soon +several hundred persons of all ages and sexes were congregated about +the captain's dwelling. He called to one new arrival, a woman with a +nursing babe in her arms, and in answer received the information that +her house had just been swept into the lagoon. + +This was the highest spot of land in miles, and already, in many +places on either hand, the great seas were making a clean breach of +the slender ring of the atoll and surging into the lagoon. Twenty +miles around stretched the ring of the atoll, and in no place was it +more than fifty fathoms wide. It was the height of the diving season, +and from all the islands around, even as far as Tahiti, the natives +had gathered. + +"There are twelve hundred men, women, and children here," said Captain +Lynch. "I wonder how many will be here tomorrow morning." + +"But why don't it blow?--that's what I want to know," Raoul demanded. + +"Don't worry, young man, don't worry; you'll get your troubles fast +enough." + +Even as Captain Lynch spoke, a great watery mass smote the atoll. + +The sea water churned about them three inches deep under the chairs. A +low wail of fear went up from the many women. The children, with +clasped hands, stared at the immense rollers and cried piteously. +Chickens and cats, wading perturbedly in the water, as by common +consent, with flight and scramble took refuge on the roof of the +captain's house. A Paumotan, with a litter of new-born puppies in a +basket, climbed into a cocoanut tree and twenty feet above the ground +made the basket fast. The mother floundered about in the water +beneath, whining and yelping. + +And still the sun shone brightly and the dead calm continued. They +sat and watched the seas and the insane pitching of the Aorai. Captain +Lynch gazed at the huge mountains of water sweeping in until he could +gaze no more. He covered his face with his hands to shut out the +sight; then went into the house. + +"Twenty-eight-sixty," he said quietly when he returned. + +In his arm was a coil of small rope. He cut it into two-fathom +lengths, giving one to Raoul and, retaining one for himself, +distributed the remainder among the women with the advice to pick out +a tree and climb. + +A light air began to blow out of the northeast, and the fan of it on +his cheek seemed to cheer Raoul up. He could see the Aorai trimming +her sheets and heading off shore, and he regretted that he was not on +her. She would get away at any rate, but as for the atoll--A sea +breached across, almost sweeping him off his feet, and he selected a +tree. Then he remembered the barometer and ran back to the house. He +encountered Captain Lynch on the same errand and together they went +in. + +"Twenty-eight-twenty," said the old mariner. "It's going to be fair +hell around here--what was that?" + +The air seemed filled with the rush of something. The house quivered +and vibrated, and they heard the thrumming of a mighty note of sound. +The windows rattled. Two panes crashed; a draught of wind tore in, +striking them and making them stagger. The door opposite banged shut, +shattering the latch. The white door knob crumbled in fragments to the +floor. The room's walls bulged like a gas balloon in the process of +sudden inflation. Then came a new sound like the rattle of musketry, +as the spray from a sea struck the wall of the house. Captain Lynch +looked at his watch. It was four o'clock. He put on a coat of pilot +cloth, unhooked the barometer, and stowed it away in a capacious +pocket. Again a sea struck the house, with a heavy thud, and the light +building tilted, twisted, quarter around on its foundation, and sank +down, its floor at an angle of ten degrees. + +Raoul went out first. The wind caught him and whirled him away. He +noted that it had hauled around to the east. With a great effort he +threw himself on the sand, crouching and holding his own. Captain +Lynch, driven like a wisp of straw, sprawled over him. Two of the +Aorai's sailors, leaving a cocoanut tree to which they had been +clinging, came to their aid, leaning against the wind at impossible +angles and fighting and clawing every inch of the way. + +The old man's joints were stiff and he could not climb, so the +sailors, by means of short ends of rope tied together, hoisted him up +the trunk, a few feet at a time, till they could make him fast, at the +top of the tree, fifty feet from the ground. Raoul passed his length +of rope around the base of an adjacent tree and stood looking on. The +wind was frightful. He had never dreamed it could blow so hard. A sea +breached across the atoll, wetting him to the knees ere it subsided +into the lagoon. The sun had disappeared, and a lead-colored twilight +settled down. A few drops of rain, driving horizontally, struck him. +The impact was like that of leaden pellets. A splash of salt spray +struck his face. It was like the slap of a man's hand. His cheeks +stung, and involuntary tears of pain were in his smarting eyes. +Several hundred natives had taken to the trees, and he could have +laughed at the bunches of human fruit clustering in the tops. Then, +being Tahitian-born, he doubled his body at the waist, clasped the +trunk of his tree with his hands, pressed the soles of his feet +against the near surface of the trunk, and began to walk up the tree. +At the top he found two women, two children, and a man. One little +girl clasped a housecat in her arms. + +From his eyrie he waved his hand to Captain Lynch, and that doughty +patriarch waved back. Raoul was appalled at the sky. It had approached +much nearer--in fact, it seemed just over his head; and it had turned +from lead to black. Many people were still on the ground grouped about +the bases of the trees and holding on. Several such clusters were +praying, and in one the Mormon missionary was exhorting. A weird +sound, rhythmical, faint as the faintest chirp of a far cricket, +enduring but for a moment, but in the moment suggesting to him vaguely +the thought of heaven and celestial music, came to his ear. He glanced +about him and saw, at the base of another tree, a large cluster of +people holding on by ropes and by one another. He could see their +faces working and their lips moving in unison. No sound came to him, +but he knew that they were singing hymns. + +Still the wind continued to blow harder. By no conscious process could +he measure it, for it had long since passed beyond all his experience +of wind; but he knew somehow, nevertheless, that it was blowing +harder. Not far away a tree was uprooted, flinging its load of human +beings to the ground. A sea washed across the strip of sand, and they +were gone. Things were happening quickly. He saw a brown shoulder and +a black head silhouetted against the churning white of the lagoon. The +next instant that, too, had vanished. Other trees were going, falling +and criss-crossing like matches. He was amazed at the power of the +wind. His own tree was swaying perilously, one woman was wailing and +clutching the little girl, who in turn still hung on to the cat. + +The man, holding the other child, touched Raoul's arm and pointed. He +looked and saw the Mormon church careering drunkenly a hundred feet +away. It had been torn from its foundations, and wind and sea were +heaving and shoving it toward the lagoon. A frightful wall of water +caught it, tilted it, and flung it against half a dozen cocoanut +trees. The bunches of human fruit fell like ripe cocoanuts. The +subsiding wave showed them on the ground, some lying motionless, +others squirming and writhing. They reminded him strangely of ants. He +was not shocked. He had risen above horror. Quite as a matter of +course he noted the succeeding wave sweep the sand clean of the human +wreckage. A third wave, more colossal than any he had yet seen, hurled +the church into the lagoon, where it floated off into the obscurity to +leeward, half-submerged, reminding him for all the world of a Noah's +ark. + +He looked for Captain Lynch's house, and was surprised to find it +gone. Things certainly were happening quickly. He noticed that many of +the people in the trees that still held had descended to the ground. +The wind had yet again increased. His own tree showed that. It no +longer swayed or bent over and back. Instead, it remained practically +stationary, curved in a rigid angle from the wind and merely +vibrating. But the vibration was sickening. It was like that of a +tuning-fork or the tongue of a jew's-harp. It was the rapidity of the +vibration that made it so bad. Even though its roots held, it could +not stand the strain for long. Something would have to break. + +Ah, there was one that had gone. He had not seen it go, but there it +stood, the remnant, broken off half-way up the trunk. One did not know +what happened unless he saw it. The mere crashing of trees and wails +of human despair occupied no place in that mighty volume of sound. He +chanced to be looking in Captain Lynch's direction when it happened. +He saw the trunk of the tree, half-way up, splinter and part without +noise. The head of the tree, with three sailors of the Aorai and the +old captain sailed off over the lagoon. It did not fall to the ground, +but drove through the air like a piece of chaff. For a hundred yards +he followed its flight, when it struck the water. He strained his +eyes, and was sure that he saw Captain Lynch wave farewell. + +Raoul did not wait for anything more. He touched the native and made +signs to descend to the ground. The man was willing, but his women +were paralyzed from terror, and he elected to remain with them. Raoul +passed his rope around the tree and slid down. A rush of salt water +went over his head. He held his breath and clung desperately to the +rope. The water subsided, and in the shelter of the trunk he breathed +once more. He fastened the rope more securely, and then was put under +by another sea. One of the women slid down and joined him, the native +remaining by the other woman, the two children, and the cat. + +The supercargo had noticed how the groups clinging at the bases of the +other trees continually diminished. Now he saw the process work out +alongside him. It required all his strength to hold on, and the woman +who had joined him was growing weaker. Each time he emerged from a sea +he was surprised to find himself still there, and next, surprised to +find the woman still there. At last he emerged to find himself alone. +He looked up. The top of the tree had gone as well. At half its +original height, a splintered end vibrated. He was safe. The roots +still held, while the tree had been shorn of its windage. He began to +climb up. He was so weak that he went slowly, and sea after sea caught +him before he was above them. Then he tied himself to the trunk and +stiffened his soul to face the night and he knew not what. + +He felt very lonely in the darkness. At times it seemed to him that it +was the end of the world and that he was the last one left alive. +Still the wind increased. Hour after hour it increased. By what he +calculated was eleven o'clock, the wind had become unbelievable. It +was a horrible, monstrous thing, a screaming fury, a wall that smote +and passed on but that continued to smite and pass on--a wall without +end. It seemed to him that he had become light and ethereal; that it +was he that was in motion; that he was being driven with inconceivable +velocity through unending solidness. The wind was no longer air in +motion. It had become substantial as water or quicksilver. He had a +feeling that he could reach into it and tear it out in chunks as one +might do with the meat in the carcass of a steer; that he could seize +hold of the wind and hang on to it as a man might hang on to the face +of a cliff. + +The wind strangled him. He could not face it and breathe, for it +rushed in through his mouth and nostrils, distending his lungs like +bladders. At such moments it seemed to him that his body was being +packed and swollen with solid earth. Only by pressing his lips to the +trunk of the tree could he breathe. Also, the ceaseless impact of the +wind exhausted him. Body and brain became wearied. He no longer +observed, no longer thought, and was but semiconscious. One idea +constituted his consciousness: SO THIS WAS A HURRICANE. That one idea +persisted irregularly. It was like a feeble flame that flickered +occasionally. From a state of stupor he would return to it--SO THIS +WAS A HURRICANE. Then he would go off into another stupor. + +The height of the hurricane endured from eleven at night till three in +the morning, and it was at eleven that the tree in which clung Mapuhi +and his women snapped off. Mapuhi rose to the surface of the lagoon, +still clutching his daughter Ngakura. Only a South Sea islander could +have lived in such a driving smother. The pandanus tree, to which he +attached himself, turned over and over in the froth and churn; and it +was only by holding on at times and waiting, and at other times +shifting his grips rapidly, that he was able to get his head and +Ngakura's to the surface at intervals sufficiently near together to +keep the breath in them. But the air was mostly water, what with +flying spray and sheeted rain that poured along at right angles to the +perpendicular. + +It was ten miles across the lagoon to the farther ring of sand. Here, +tossing tree trunks, timbers, wrecks of cutters, and wreckage of +houses, killed nine out of ten of the miserable beings who survived +the passage of the lagoon. Half-drowned, exhausted, they were hurled +into this mad mortar of the elements and battered into formless flesh. +But Mapuhi was fortunate. His chance was the one in ten; it fell to +him by the freakage of fate. He emerged upon the sand, bleeding from a +score of wounds. + +Ngakura's left arm was broken; the fingers of her right hand were +crushed; and cheek and forehead were laid open to the bone. He +clutched a tree that yet stood, and clung on, holding the girl and +sobbing for air, while the waters of the lagoon washed by knee-high +and at times waist-high. + +At three in the morning the backbone of the hurricane broke. By five +no more than a stiff breeze was blowing. And by six it was dead calm +and the sun was shining. The sea had gone down. On the yet restless +edge of the lagoon, Mapuhi saw the broken bodies of those that had +failed in the landing. Undoubtedly Tefara and Nauri were among them. +He went along the beach examining them, and came upon his wife, lying +half in and half out of the water. He sat down and wept, making harsh +animal noises after the manner of primitive grief. Then she stirred +uneasily, and groaned. He looked more closely. Not only was she alive, +but she was uninjured. She was merely sleeping. Hers also had been the +one chance in ten. + +Of the twelve hundred alive the night before but three hundred +remained. The Mormon missionary and a gendarme made the census. The +lagoon was cluttered with corpses. Not a house nor a hut was standing. +In the whole atoll not two stones remained one upon another. One in +fifty of the cocoanut palms still stood, and they were wrecks, while +on not one of them remained a single nut. + +There was no fresh water. The shallow wells that caught the surface +seepage of the rain were filled with salt. Out of the lagoon a few +soaked bags of flour were recovered. The survivors cut the hearts out +of the fallen cocoanut trees and ate them. Here and there they crawled +into tiny hutches, made by hollowing out the sand and covering over +with fragments of metal roofing. The missionary made a crude still, +but he could not distill water for three hundred persons. By the end +of the second day, Raoul, taking a bath in the lagoon, discovered that +his thirst was somewhat relieved. He cried out the news, and thereupon +three hundred men, women, and children could have been seen, standing +up to their necks in the lagoon and trying to drink water in through +their skins. Their dead floated about them, or were stepped upon where +they still lay upon the bottom. On the third day the people buried +their dead and sat down to wait for the rescue steamers. + +In the meantime, Nauri, torn from her family by the hurricane, had +been swept away on an adventure of her own. Clinging to a rough plank +that wounded and bruised her and that filled her body with splinters, +she was thrown clear over the atoll and carried away to sea. Here, +under the amazing buffets of mountains of water, she lost her plank. +She was an old woman nearly sixty; but she was Paumotan-born, and she +had never been out of sight of the sea in her life. Swimming in the +darkness, strangling, suffocating, fighting for air, she was struck a +heavy blow on the shoulder by a cocoanut. On the instant her plan was +formed, and she seized the nut. In the next hour she captured seven +more. Tied together, they formed a life-buoy that preserved her life +while at the same time it threatened to pound her to a jelly. She was +a fat woman, and she bruised easily; but she had had experience of +hurricanes, and while she prayed to her shark god for protection from +sharks, she waited for the wind to break. But at three o'clock she was +in such a stupor that she did not know. Nor did she know at six +o'clock when the dead calm settled down. She was shocked into +consciousness when she was thrown upon the sand. She dug in with raw +and bleeding hands and feet and clawed against the backwash until she +was beyond the reach of the waves. + +She knew where she was. This land could be no other than the tiny +islet of Takokota. It had no lagoon. No one lived upon it. + +Hikueru was fifteen miles away. She could not see Hikueru, but she +knew that it lay to the south. The days went by, and she lived on the +cocoanuts that had kept her afloat. They supplied her with drinking +water and with food. But she did not drink all she wanted, nor eat all +she wanted. Rescue was problematical. She saw the smoke of the rescue +steamers on the horizon, but what steamer could be expected to come to +lonely, uninhabited Takokota? + +From the first she was tormented by corpses. The sea persisted in +flinging them upon her bit of sand, and she persisted, until her +strength failed, in thrusting them back into the sea where the sharks +tore at them and devoured them. When her strength failed, the bodies +festooned her beach with ghastly horror, and she withdrew from them as +far as she could, which was not far. + +By the tenth day her last cocoanut was gone, and she was shrivelling +from thirst. She dragged herself along the sand, looking for +cocoanuts. It was strange that so many bodies floated up, and no nuts. +Surely, there were more cocoanuts afloat than dead men! She gave up at +last, and lay exhausted. The end had come. Nothing remained but to +wait for death. + +Coming out of a stupor, she became slowly aware that she was gazing at +a patch of sandy-red hair on the head of a corpse. The sea flung the +body toward her, then drew it back. It turned over, and she saw that +it had no face. Yet there was something familiar about that patch of +sandy-red hair. An hour passed. She did not exert herself to make the +identification. She was waiting to die, and it mattered little to her +what man that thing of horror once might have been. + +But at the end of the hour she sat up slowly and stared at the corpse. +An unusually large wave had thrown it beyond the reach of the lesser +waves. Yes, she was right; that patch of red hair could belong to but +one man in the Paumotus. It was Levy, the German Jew, the man who had +bought the pearl and carried it away on the Hira. Well, one thing was +evident: The Hira had been lost. The pearl buyer's god of fishermen +and thieves had gone back on him. + +She crawled down to the dead man. His shirt had been torn away, and +she could see the leather money belt about his waist. She held her +breath and tugged at the buckles. They gave easier than she had +expected, and she crawled hurriedly away across the sand, dragging the +belt after her. Pocket after pocket she unbuckled in the belt and +found empty. Where could he have put it? In the last pocket of all she +found it, the first and only pearl he had bought on the voyage. She +crawled a few feet farther, to escape the pestilence of the belt, and +examined the pearl. It was the one Mapuhi had found and been robbed of +by Toriki. She weighed it in her hand and rolled it back and forth +caressingly. But in it she saw no intrinsic beauty. What she did see +was the house Mapuhi and Tefara and she had builded so carefully in +their minds. Each time she looked at the pearl she saw the house in +all its details, including the octagon-drop-clock on the wall. That +was something to live for. + +She tore a strip from her ahu and tied the pearl securely about her +neck. Then she went on along the beach, panting and groaning, but +resolutely seeking for cocoanuts. Quickly she found one, and, as she +glanced around, a second. She broke one, drinking its water, which was +mildewy, and eating the last particle of the meat. A little later she +found a shattered dugout. Its outrigger was gone, but she was hopeful, +and, before the day was out, she found the outrigger. Every find was +an augury. The pearl was a talisman. Late in the afternoon she saw a +wooden box floating low in the water. When she dragged it out on the +beach its contents rattled, and inside she found ten tins of salmon. +She opened one by hammering it on the canoe. When a leak was started, +she drained the tin. After that she spent several hours in extracting +the salmon, hammering and squeezing it out a morsel at a time. + +Eight days longer she waited for rescue. In the meantime she fastened +the outrigger back on the canoe, using for lashings all the cocoanut +fibre she could find, and also what remained of her ahu. The canoe was +badly cracked, and she could not make it water-tight; but a calabash +made from a cocoanut she stored on board for a bailer. She was hard +put for a paddle. With a piece of tin she sawed off all her hair close +to the scalp. Out of the hair she braided a cord; and by means of the +cord she lashed a three-foot piece of broom handle to a board from the +salmon case. + +She gnawed wedges with her teeth and with them wedged the lashing. + +On the eighteenth day, at midnight, she launched the canoe through the +surf and started back for Hikueru. She was an old woman. Hardship had +stripped her fat from her till scarcely more than bones and skin and a +few stringy muscles remained. The canoe was large and should have been +paddled by three strong men. + +But she did it alone, with a make-shift paddle. Also, the canoe leaked +badly, and one-third of her time was devoted to bailing. By clear +daylight she looked vainly for Hikueru. Astern, Takokota had sunk +beneath the sea rim. The sun blazed down on her nakedness, compelling +her body to surrender its moisture. Two tins of salmon were left, and +in the course of the day she battered holes in them and drained the +liquid. She had no time to waste in extracting the meat. A current was +setting to the westward, she made westing whether she made southing or +not. + +In the early afternoon, standing upright in the canoe, she sighted +Hikueru. Its wealth of cocoanut palms was gone. Only here and there, at +wide intervals, could she see the ragged remnants of trees. The sight +cheered her. She was nearer than she had thought. The current was +setting her to the westward. She bore up against it and paddled on. +The wedges in the paddle lashing worked loose, and she lost much time, +at frequent intervals, in driving them tight. Then there was the +bailing. One hour in three she had to cease paddling in order to bail. +And all the time she drifted to the westward. + +By sunset Hikueru bore southeast from her, three miles away. There +was a full moon, and by eight o'clock the land was due east and two +miles away. She struggled on for another hour, but the land was as far +away as ever. She was in the main grip of the current; the canoe was +too large; the paddle was too inadequate; and too much of her time and +strength was wasted in bailing. Besides, she was very weak and growing +weaker. Despite her efforts, the canoe was drifting off to the +westward. + +She breathed a prayer to her shark god, slipped over the side, and +began to swim. She was actually refreshed by the water, and quickly +left the canoe astern. At the end of an hour the land was perceptibly +nearer. Then came her fright. Right before her eyes, not twenty feet +away, a large fin cut the water. She swam steadily toward it, and +slowly it glided away, curving off toward the right and circling +around her. She kept her eyes on the fin and swam on. When the fin +disappeared, she lay face downward in the water and watched. When the +fin reappeared she resumed her swimming. The monster was lazy--she +could see that. Without doubt he had been well fed since the +hurricane. Had he been very hungry, she knew he would not have +hesitated from making a dash for her. He was fifteen feet long, and +one bite, she knew, could cut her in half. + +But she did not have any time to waste on him. Whether she swam or +not, the current drew away from the land just the same. A half hour +went by, and the shark began to grow bolder. Seeing no harm in her he +drew closer, in narrowing circles, cocking his eyes at her impudently +as he slid past. Sooner or later, she knew well enough, he would get +up sufficient courage to dash at her. She resolved to play first. It +was a desperate act she meditated. She was an old woman, alone in the +sea and weak from starvation and hardship; and yet she, in the face of +this sea tiger, must anticipate his dash by herself dashing at him. +She swam on, waiting her chance. At last he passed languidly by, +barely eight feet away. She rushed at him suddenly, feigning that she +was attacking him. He gave a wild flirt of his tail as he fled away, +and his sandpaper hide, striking her, took off her skin from elbow to +shoulder. He swam rapidly, in a widening circle, and at last +disappeared. + +In the hole in the sand, covered over by fragments of metal roofing, +Mapuhi and Tefara lay disputing. + +"If you had done as I said," charged Tefara, for the thousandth time, +"and hidden the pearl and told no one, you would have it now." + +"But Huru-Huru was with me when I opened the shell--have I not told +you so times and times and times without end?" + +"And now we shall have no house. Raoul told me today that if you had +not sold the pearl to Toriki--" + +"I did not sell it. Toriki robbed me." + +"--that if you had not sold the pearl, he would give you five thousand +French dollars, which is ten thousand Chili." + +"He has been talking to his mother," Mapuhi explained. "She has an eye +for a pearl." + +"And now the pearl is lost," Tefara complained. + +"It paid my debt with Toriki. That is twelve hundred I have made, +anyway." + +"Toriki is dead," she cried. "They have heard no word of his schooner. +She was lost along with the Aorai and the Hira. Will Toriki pay you +the three hundred credit he promised? No, because Toriki is dead. And +had you found no pearl, would you today owe Toriki the twelve hundred? +No, because Toriki is dead, and you cannot pay dead men." + +"But Levy did not pay Toriki," Mapuhi said. "He gave him a piece of +paper that was good for the money in Papeete; and now Levy is dead and +cannot pay; and Toriki is dead and the paper lost with him, and the +pearl is lost with Levy. You are right, Tefara. I have lost the pearl, +and got nothing for it. Now let us sleep." + +He held up his hand suddenly and listened. From without came a noise, +as of one who breathed heavily and with pain. A hand fumbled against +the mat that served for a door. + +"Who is there?" Mapuhi cried. + +"Nauri," came the answer. "Can you tell me where is my son, Mapuhi?" + +Tefara screamed and gripped her husband's arm. + +"A ghost!" she chattered. "A ghost!" + +Mapuhi's face was a ghastly yellow. He clung weakly to his wife. + +"Good woman," he said in faltering tones, striving to disguise his +vice, "I know your son well. He is living on the east side of the +lagoon." + +From without came the sound of a sigh. Mapuhi began to feel elated. He +had fooled the ghost. + +"But where do you come from, old woman?" he asked. + +"From the sea," was the dejected answer. + +"I knew it! I knew it!" screamed Tefara, rocking to and fro. + +"Since when has Tefara bedded in a strange house?" came Nauri's voice +through the matting. + +Mapuhi looked fear and reproach at his wife. It was her voice that had +betrayed them. + +"And since when has Mapuhi, my son, denied his old mother?" the voice +went on. + +"No, no, I have not--Mapuhi has not denied you," he cried. "I am not +Mapuhi. He is on the east end of the lagoon, I tell you." + +Ngakura sat up in bed and began to cry. The matting started to shake. + +"What are you doing?" Mapuhi demanded. + +"I am coming in," said the voice of Nauri. + +One end of the matting lifted. Tefara tried to dive under the +blankets, but Mapuhi held on to her. He had to hold on to something. +Together, struggling with each other, with shivering bodies and +chattering teeth, they gazed with protruding eyes at the lifting mat. +They saw Nauri, dripping with sea water, without her ahu, creep in. +They rolled over backward from her and fought for Ngakura's blanket +with which to cover their heads. + +"You might give your old mother a drink of water," the ghost said +plaintively. + +"Give her a drink of water," Tefara commanded in a shaking voice. + +"Give her a drink of water," Mapuhi passed on the command to Ngakura. + +And together they kicked out Ngakura from under the blanket. A minute +later, peeping, Mapuhi saw the ghost drinking. When it reached out a +shaking hand and laid it on his, he felt the weight of it and was +convinced that it was no ghost. Then he emerged, dragging Tefara after +him, and in a few minutes all were listening to Nauri's tale. And when +she told of Levy, and dropped the pearl into Tefara's hand, even she +was reconciled to the reality of her mother-in-law. + +"In the morning," said Tefara, "you will sell the pearl to Raoul for +five thousand French." + +"The house?" objected Nauri. + +"He will build the house," Tefara answered. "He ways it will cost four +thousand French. Also will he give one thousand French in credit, +which is two thousand Chili." + +"And it will be six fathoms long?" Nauri queried. + +"Ay," answered Mapuhi, "six fathoms." + +"And in the middle room will be the octagon-drop-clock?" + +"Ay, and the round table as well." + +"Then give me something to eat, for I am hungry," said Nauri, +complacently. "And after that we will sleep, for I am weary. And +tomorrow we will have more talk about the house before we sell the +pearl. It will be better if we take the thousand French in cash. Money +is ever better than credit in buying goods from the traders." + + + +THE WHALE TOOTH + +It was in the early days in Fiji, when John Starhurst arose in the +mission house at Rewa Village and announced his intention of carrying +the gospel throughout all Viti Levu. Now Viti Levu means the "Great +Land," it being the largest island in a group composed of many large +islands, to say nothing of hundreds of small ones. Here and there on +the coasts, living by most precarious tenure, was a sprinkling of +missionaries, traders, bche-de-mer fishers, and whaleship deserters. +The smoke of the hot ovens arose under their windows, and the bodies +of the slain were dragged by their doors on the way to the feasting. + +The Lotu, or the Worship, was progressing slowly, and, often, in +crablike fashion. Chiefs, who announced themselves Christians and were +welcomed into the body of the chapel, had a distressing habit of +backsliding in order to partake of the flesh of some favorite enemy. +Eat or be eaten had been the law of the land; and eat or be eaten +promised to remain the law of the land for a long time to come. There +were chiefs, such as Tanoa, Tuiveikoso, and Tuikilakila, who had +literally eaten hundreds of their fellow men. But among these gluttons +Ra Undreundre ranked highest. Ra Undreundre lived at Takiraki. He kept +a register of his gustatory exploits. A row of stones outside his +house marked the bodies he had eaten. This row was two hundred and +thirty paces long, and the stones in it numbered eight hundred and +seventy-two. Each stone represented a body. The row of stones might +have been longer, had not Ra Undreundre unfortunately received a spear +in the small of his back in a bush skirmish on Somo Somo and been +served up on the table of Naungavuli, whose mediocre string of stones +numbered only forty-eight. + +The hard-worked, fever-stricken missionaries stuck doggedly to their +task, at times despairing, and looking forward for some special +manifestation, some outburst of Pentecostal fire that would bring a +glorious harvest of souls. But cannibal Fiji had remained obdurate. +The frizzle-headed man-eaters were loath to leave their fleshpots so +long as the harvest of human carcases was plentiful. Sometimes, when +the harvest was too plentiful, they imposed on the missionaries by +letting the word slip out that on such a day there would be a killing +and a barbecue. Promptly the missionaries would buy the lives of the +victims with stick tobacco, fathoms of calico, and quarts of trade +beads. Natheless the chiefs drove a handsome trade in thus disposing +of their surplus live meat. Also, they could always go out and catch +more. + +It was at this juncture that John Starhurst proclaimed that he would +carry the Gospel from coast to coast of the Great Land, and that he +would begin by penetrating the mountain fastnesses of the headwaters +of the Rewa River. His words were received with consternation. + +The native teachers wept softly. His two fellow missionaries strove to +dissuade him. The King of Rewa warned him that the mountain dwellers +would surely kai-kai him--kai-kai meaning "to eat"--and that he, the +King of Rewa, having become Lotu, would be put to the necessity of +going to war with the mountain dwellers. That he could not conquer +them he was perfectly aware. That they might come down the river and +sack Rewa Village he was likewise perfectly aware. But what was he to +do? If John Starhurst persisted in going out and being eaten, there +would be a war that would cost hundreds of lives. + +Later in the day a deputation of Rewa chiefs waited upon John +Starhurst. He heard them patiently, and argued patiently with them, +though he abated not a whit from his purpose. To his fellow +missionaries he explained that he was not bent upon martyrdom; that +the call had come for him to carry the Gospel into Viti Levu, and that +he was merely obeying the Lord's wish. + +To the traders who came and objected most strenuously of all, he said: +"Your objections are valueless. They consist merely of the damage that +may be done your businesses. You are interested in making money, but I +am interested in saving souls. The heathen of this dark land must be +saved." + +John Starhurst was not a fanatic. He would have been the first man to +deny the imputation. He was eminently sane and practical. + +He was sure that his mission would result in good, and he had private +visions of igniting the Pentecostal spark in the souls of the +mountaineers and of inaugurating a revival that would sweep down out +of the mountains and across the length and breadth of the Great Land +from sea to sea and to the isles in the midst of the sea. There were +no wild lights in his mild gray eyes, but only calm resolution and an +unfaltering trust in the Higher Power that was guiding him. + +One man only he found who approved of his project, and that was Ra +Vatu, who secretly encouraged him and offered to lend him guides to +the first foothills. John Starhurst, in turn, was greatly pleased by +Ra Vatu's conduct. From an incorrigible heathen, with a heart as black +as his practices, Ra Vatu was beginning to emanate light. He even +spoke of becoming Lotu. True, three years before he had expressed a +similar intention, and would have entered the church had not John +Starhurst entered objection to his bringing his four wives along with +him. Ra Vatu had had economic and ethical objections to monogamy. +Besides, the missionary's hair-splitting objection had offended him; +and, to prove that he was a free agent and a man of honor, he had +swung his huge war club over Starhurst's head. Starhurst had escaped +by rushing in under the club and holding on to him until help arrived. +But all that was now forgiven and forgotten. Ra Vatu was coming into +the church, not merely as a converted heathen, but as a converted +polygamist as well. He was only waiting, he assured Starhurst, until +his oldest wife, who was very sick, should die. + +John Starhurst journeyed up the sluggish Rewa in one of Ra Vatu's +canoes. This canoe was to carry him for two days, when, the head of +navigation reached, it would return. Far in the distance, lifted into +the sky, could be seen the great smoky mountains that marked the +backbone of the Great Land. All day John Starhurst gazed at them with +eager yearning. + +Sometimes he prayed silently. At other times he was joined in prayer +by Narau, a native teacher, who for seven years had been Lotu, ever +since the day he had been saved from the hot oven by Dr. James Ellery +Brown at the trifling expense of one hundred sticks of tobacco, two +cotton blankets, and a large bottle of painkiller. At the last moment, +after twenty hours of solitary supplication and prayer, Narau's ears +had heard the call to go forth with John Starhurst on the mission to +the mountains. + +"Master, I will surely go with thee," he had announced. + +John Starhurst had hailed him with sober delight. Truly, the Lord was +with him thus to spur on so broken-spirited a creature as Narau. + +"I am indeed without spirit, the weakest of the Lord's vessels," Narau +explained, the first day in the canoe. + +"You should have faith, stronger faith," the missionary chided him. + +Another canoe journeyed up the Rewa that day. But it journeyed an hour +astern, and it took care not to be seen. This canoe was also the +property of Ra Vatu. In it was Erirola, Ra Vatu's first cousin and +trusted henchman; and in the small basket that never left his hand was +a whale tooth. It was a magnificent tooth, fully six inches long, +beautifully proportioned, the ivory turned yellow and purple with age. +This tooth was likewise the property of Ra Vatu; and in Fiji, when +such a tooth goes forth, things usually happen. For this is the virtue +of the whale tooth: Whoever accepts it cannot refuse the request that +may accompany it or follow it. The request may be anything from a +human life to a tribal alliance, and no Fijian is so dead to honor as +to deny the request when once the tooth has been accepted. Sometimes +the request hangs fire, or the fulfilment is delayed, with untoward +consequences. + +High up the Rewa, at the village of a chief, Mongondro by name, John +Starhurst rested at the end of the second day of the journey. In the +morning, attended by Narau, he expected to start on foot for the smoky +mountains that were now green and velvety with nearness. Mongondro was +a sweet-tempered, mild-mannered little old chief, short-sighted and +afflicted with elephantiasis, and no longer inclined toward the +turbulence of war. He received the missionary with warm hospitality, +gave him food from his own table, and even discussed religious matters +with him. Mongondro was of an inquiring bent of mind, and pleased John +Starhurst greatly by asking him to account for the existence and +beginning of things. When the missionary had finished his summary of +the Creation according to Genesis, he saw that Mongondro was deeply +affected. The little old chief smoked silently for some time. Then he +took the pipe from his mouth and shook his head sadly. + +"It cannot be," he said. "I, Mongondro, in my youth, was a good +workman with the adze. Yet three months did it take me to make a +canoe--a small canoe, a very small canoe. And you say that all this +land and water was made by one man--" + +"Nay, was made by one God, the only true God," the missionary +interrupted. + +"It is the same thing," Mongondro went on, "that all the land and all +the water, the trees, the fish, and bush and mountains, the sun, the +moon, and the stars, were made in six days! No, no. I tell you that in +my youth I was an able man, yet did it require me three months for one +small canoe. It is a story to frighten children with; but no man can +believe it." + +"I am a man," the missionary said. + +"True, you are a man. But it is not given to my dark understanding to +know what you believe." + +"I tell you, I do believe that everything was made in six days." + +"So you say, so you say," the old cannibal murmured soothingly. + +It was not until after John Starhurst and Narau had gone off to bed +that Erirola crept into the chief's house, and, after diplomatic +speech, handed the whale tooth to Mongondro. + +The old chief held the tooth in his hands for a long time. It was a +beautiful tooth, and he yearned for it. Also, he divined the request +that must accompany it. "No, no; whale teeth were beautiful," and his +mouth watered for it, but he passed it back to Erirola with many +apologies. + +. . . . . . . . . . . . . . + +In the early dawn John Starhurst was afoot, striding along the bush +trail in his big leather boots, at his heels the faithful Narau, +himself at the heels of a naked guide lent him by Mongondro to show +the way to the next village, which was reached by midday. Here a new +guide showed the way. A mile in the rear plodded Erirola, the whale +tooth in the basket slung on his shoulder. For two days more he +brought up the missionary's rear, offering the tooth to the village +chiefs. But village after village refused the tooth. It followed so +quickly the missionary's advent that they divined the request that +would be made, and would have none of it. + +They were getting deep into the mountains, and Erirola took a secret +trail, cut in ahead of the missionary, and reached the stronghold of +the Buli of Gatoka. Now the Buli was unaware of John Starhurst's +imminent arrival. Also, the tooth was beautiful--an extraordinary +specimen, while the coloring of it was of the rarest order. The tooth +was presented publicly. The Buli of Gatoka, seated on his best mat, +surrounded by his chief men, three busy fly-brushers at his back, +deigned to receive from the hand of his herald the whale tooth +presented by Ra Vatu and carried into the mountains by his cousin, +Erirola. A clapping of hands went up at the acceptance of the present, +the assembled headman, heralds, and fly-brushers crying aloud in +chorus: + +"A! woi! woi! woi! A! woi! woi! woi! A tabua levu! woi! woi! A mudua, +mudua, mudua!' + +"Soon will come a man, a white man," Erirola began, after the proper +pause. "He is a missionary man, and he will come today. Ra Vatu is +pleased to desire his boots. He wishes to present them to his good +friend, Mongondro, and it is in his mind to send them with the feet +along in them, for Mongondro is an old man and his teeth are not good. +Be sure, O Buli, that the feet go along in the boots. As for the rest +of him, it may stop here." + +The delight in the whale tooth faded out of the Buli's eyes, and he +glanced about him dubiously. Yet had he already accepted the tooth. + +"A little thing like a missionary does not matter," Erirola prompted. + +"No, a little thing like a missionary does not matter," the Buli +answered, himself again. "Mongondro shall have the boots. Go, you +young men, some three or four of you, and meet the missionary on the +trail. Be sure you bring back the boots as well." + +"It is too late," said Erirola. "Listen! He comes now." + +Breaking through the thicket of brush, John Starhurst, with Narau +close on his heels, strode upon the scene. The famous boots, having +filled in wading the stream, squirted fine jets of water at every +step. Starhurst looked about him with flashing eyes. Upborne by an +unwavering trust, untouched by doubt or fear, he exulted in all he +saw. He knew that since the beginning of time he was the first white +man ever to tread the mountain stronghold of Gatoka. + +The grass houses clung to the steep mountain side or overhung the +rushing Rewa. On either side towered a mighty precipice. At the best, +three hours of sunlight penetrated that narrow gorge. No cocoanuts nor +bananas were to be seen, though dense, tropic vegetation overran +everything, dripping in airy festoons from the sheer lips of the +precipices and running riot in all the crannied ledges. At the far end +of the gorge the Rewa leaped eight hundred feet in a single span, +while the atmosphere of the rock fortress pulsed to the rhythmic +thunder of the fall. + +From the Buli's house, John Starhurst saw emerging the Buli and his +followers. + +"I bring you good tidings," was the missionary's greeting. + +"Who has sent you?" the Buli rejoined quietly. + +"God." + +"It is a new name in Viti Levu," the Buli grinned. "Of what islands, +villages, or passes may he be chief?" + +"He is the chief over all islands, all villages, all passes," John +Starhurst answered solemnly. "He is the Lord over heaven and earth, +and I am come to bring His word to you." + +"Has he sent whale teeth?" was the insolent query. + +"No, but more precious than whale teeth is the--" + +"It is the custom, between chiefs, to send whale teeth," the Buli +interrupted. + +"Your chief is either a niggard, or you are a fool, to come +empty-handed into the mountains. Behold, a more generous than you is +before you." + +So saying, he showed the whale tooth he had received from Erirola. + +Narau groaned. + +"It is the whale tooth of Ra Vatu," he whispered to Starhurst. "I +know it well. Now are we undone." + +"A gracious thing," the missionary answered, passing his hand through +his long beard and adjusting his glasses. "Ra Vatu has arranged that +we should be well received." + +But Narau groaned again, and backed away from the heels he had dogged +so faithfully. + +"Ra Vatu is soon to become Lotu," Starhurst explained, "and I have +come bringing the Lotu to you." + +"I want none of your Lotu," said the Buli, proudly. "And it is in my +mind that you will be clubbed this day." + +The Buli nodded to one of his big mountaineers, who stepped forward, +swinging a club. Narau bolted into the nearest house, seeking to hide +among the woman and mats; but John Starhurst sprang in under the club +and threw his arms around his executioner's neck. From this point of +vantage he proceeded to argue. He was arguing for his life, and he +knew it; but he was neither excited nor afraid. + +"It would be an evil thing for you to kill me," he told the man. "I +have done you no wrong, nor have I done the Buli wrong." + +So well did he cling to the neck of the one man that they dared not +strike with their clubs. And he continued to cling and to dispute for +his life with those who clamored for his death. + +"I am John Starhurst," he went on calmly. "I have labored in Fiji for +three years, and I have done it for no profit. I am here among you for +good. Why should any man kill me? To kill me will not profit any man." + +The Buli stole a look at the whale tooth. He was well paid for the +deed. + +The missionary was surrounded by a mass of naked savages, all +struggling to get at him. The death song, which is the song of the +oven, was raised, and his expostulations could no longer be heard. But +so cunningly did he twine and wreathe his body about his captor's that +the death blow could not be struck. Erirola smiled, and the Buli grew +angry. + +"Away with you!" he cried. "A nice story to go back to the coast--a +dozen of you and one missionary, without weapons, weak as a woman, +overcoming all of you." + +"Wait, O Buli," John Starhurst called out from the thick of the +scuffle, "and I will overcome even you. For my weapons are Truth and +Right, and no man can withstand them." + +"Come to me, then," the Buli answered, "for my weapon is only a poor +miserable club, and, as you say, it cannot withstand you." + +The group separated from him, and John Starhurst stood alone, facing +the Buli, who was leaning on an enormous, knotted warclub. + +"Come to me, missionary man, and overcome me," the Buli challenged. + +"Even so will I come to you and overcome you," John Starhurst made +answer, first wiping his spectacles and settling them properly, then +beginning his advance. + +The Buli raised the club and waited. + +"In the first place, my death will profit you nothing," began the +argument. + +"I leave the answer to my club," was the Buli's reply. + +And to every point he made the same reply, at the same time watching +the missionary closely in order to forestall that cunning run-in under +the lifted club. Then, and for the first time, John Starhurst knew +that his death was at hand. He made no attempt to run in. Bareheaded, +he stood in the sun and prayed aloud--the mysterious figure of the +inevitable white man, who, with Bible, bullet, or rum bottle, has +confronted the amazed savage in his every stronghold. Even so stood +John Starhurst in the rock fortress of the Buli of Gatoka. + +"Forgive them, for they know not what they do," he prayed. "O Lord! +Have mercy upon Fiji. Have compassion for Fiji. O Jehovah, hear us for +His sake, Thy Son, whom Thou didst give that through Him all men might +also become Thy children. From Thee we came, and our mind is that to +Thee we may return. The land is dark, O Lord, the land is dark. But +Thou art mighty to save. Reach out Thy hand, O Lord, and save Fiji, +poor cannibal Fiji." + +The Buli grew impatient. + +"Now will I answer thee," he muttered, at the same time swinging his +club with both hands. + +Narau, hiding among the women and the mats, heard the impact of the +blow and shuddered. Then the death song arose, and he knew his beloved +missionary's body was being dragged to the oven as he heard the words: + +"Drag me gently. Drag me gently." + +"For I am the champion of my land." + +"Give thanks! Give thanks! Give thanks!" + +Next, a single voice arose out of the din, asking: + +"Where is the brave man?" + +A hundred voices bellowed the answer: + +"Gone to be dragged into the oven and cooked." + +"Where is the coward?" the single voice demanded. + +"Gone to report!" the hundred voices bellowed back. "Gone to report! +Gone to report!" + +Narau groaned in anguish of spirit. The words of the old song were +true. He was the coward, and nothing remained to him but to go and +report. + + + +MAUKI + +He weighed one hundred and ten pounds. His hair was kinky and negroid, +and he was black. He was peculiarly black. He was neither blue-black +nor purple-black, but plum-black. His name was Mauki, and he was the +son of a chief. He had three tambos. Tambo is Melanesian for taboo, +and is first cousin to that Polynesian word. Mauki's three tambos were +as follows: First, he must never shake hands with a woman, nor have a +woman's hand touch him or any of his personal belongings; secondly, he +must never eat clams nor any food from a fire in which clams had been +cooked; thirdly, he must never touch a crocodile, nor travel in a +canoe that carried any part of a crocodile even if as large as a +tooth. + +Of a different black were his teeth, which were deep black, or, +perhaps better, LAMP-black. They had been made so in a single night, +by his mother, who had compressed about them a powdered mineral which +was dug from the landslide back of Port Adams. Port Adams is a +salt-water village on Malaita, and Malaita is the most savage island +in the Solomons--so savage that no traders or planters have yet gained +a foothold on it; while, from the time of the earliest bche-de-mer +fishers and sandalwood traders down to the latest labor recruiters +equipped with automatic rifles and gasolene engines, scores of white +adventurers have been passed out by tomahawks and soft-nosed Snider +bullets. So Malaita remains today, in the twentieth century, the +stamping ground of the labor recruiters, who farm its coasts for +laborers who engage and contract themselves to toil on the plantations +of the neighboring and more civilized islands for a wage of thirty +dollars a year. The natives of those neighboring and more civilized +islands have themselves become too civilized to work on plantations. + +Mauki's ears were pierced, not in one place, nor two places, but in a +couple of dozen places. In one of the smaller holes he carried a clay +pipe. The larger holes were too large for such use. The bowl of the +pipe would have fallen through. In fact, in the largest hole in each +ear he habitually wore round wooden plugs that were an even four +inches in diameter. Roughly speaking, the circumference of said holes +was twelve and one-half inches. Mauki was catholic in his tastes. In +the various smaller holes he carried such things as empty rifle +cartridges, horseshoe nails, copper screws, pieces of string, braids +of sennit, strips of green leaf, and, in the cool of the day, scarlet +hibiscus flowers. From which it will be seen that pockets were not +necessary to his well-being. Besides, pockets were impossible, for his +only wearing apparel consisted of a piece of calico several inches +wide. A pocket knife he wore in his hair, the blade snapped down on a +kinky lock. His most prized possession was the handle of a china cup, +which he suspended from a ring of turtle-shell, which, in turn, was +passed through the partition-cartilage of his nose. + +But in spite of embellishments, Mauki had a nice face. It was really a +pretty face, viewed by any standard, and for a Melanesian it was a +remarkably good-looking face. Its one fault was its lack of strength. +It was softly effeminate, almost girlish. The features were small, +regular, and delicate. The chin was weak, and the mouth was weak. +There was no strength nor character in the jaws, forehead, and nose. +In the eyes only could be caught any hint of the unknown quantities +that were so large a part of his make-up and that other persons could +not understand. These unknown quantities were pluck, pertinacity, +fearlessness, imagination, and cunning; and when they found expression +in some consistent and striking action, those about him were +astounded. + +Mauki's father was chief over the village at Port Adams, and thus, by +birth a salt-water man, Mauki was half amphibian. He knew the way of +the fishes and oysters, and the reef was an open book to him. Canoes, +also, he knew. He learned to swim when he was a year old. At seven +years he could hold his breath a full minute and swim straight down to +bottom through thirty feet of water. And at seven years he was stolen +by the bushmen, who cannot even swim and who are afraid of salt water. +Thereafter Mauki saw the sea only from a distance, through rifts in +the jungle and from open spaces on the high mountain sides. He became +the slave of old Fanfoa, head chief over a score of scattered +bush-villages on the range-lips of Malaita, the smoke of which, on +calm mornings, is about the only evidence the seafaring white men have +of the teeming interior population. For the whites do not penetrate +Malaita. They tried it once, in the days when the search was on for +gold, but they always left their heads behind to grin from the smoky +rafters of the bushmen's huts. + +When Mauki was a young man of seventeen, Fanfoa got out of tobacco. He +got dreadfully out of tobacco. It was hard times in all his villages. +He had been guilty of a mistake. Suo was a harbor so small that a +large schooner could not swing at anchor in it. It was surrounded by +mangroves that overhung the deep water. It was a trap, and into the +trap sailed two white men in a small ketch. They were after recruits, +and they possessed much tobacco and trade goods, to say nothing of +three rifles and plenty of ammunition. Now there were no salt-water +men living at Suo, and it was there that the bushmen could come down +to the sea. The ketch did a splendid traffic. It signed on twenty +recruits the first day. Even old Fanfoa signed on. And that same day +the score of new recruits chopped off the two white men's head, killed +the boat's crew, and burned the ketch. Thereafter, and for three +months, there was tobacco and trade goods in plenty and to spare in +all the bush villages. Then came the man-of-war that threw shells for +miles into the hills, frightening the people out of their villages and +into the deeper bush. Next the man-of-war sent landing parties ashore. +The villages were all burned, along with the tobacco and trade stuff. + +The cocoanuts and bananas were chopped down, the taro gardens +uprooted, and the pigs and chickens killed. + +It taught Fanfoa a lesson, but in the meantime he was out of tobacco. +Also, his young men were too frightened to sign on with the recruiting +vessels. That was why Fanfoa ordered his slave, Mauki, to be carried +down and signed on for half a case of tobacco advance, along with +knives, axes, calico, and beads, which he would pay for with his toil +on the plantations. Mauki was sorely frightened when they brought him +on board the schooner. He was a lamb led to the slaughter. White men +were ferocious creatures. They had to be, or else they would not make +a practice of venturing along the Malaita coast and into all harbors, +two on a schooner, when each schooner carried from fifteen to twenty +blacks as boat's crew, and often as high as sixty or seventy black +recruits. In addition to this, there was always the danger of the +shore population, the sudden attack and the cutting off of the +schooner and all hands. Truly, white men must be terrible. Besides, +they were possessed of such devil-devils--rifles that shot very +rapidly many times, things of iron and brass that made the schooners +go when there was no wind, and boxes that talked and laughed just as +men talked and laughed. + +Ay, and he had heard of one white man whose particular devil-devil was +so powerful that he could take out all his teeth and put them back at +will. + +Down into the cabin they took Mauki. On deck, the one white man kept +guard with two revolvers in his belt. In the cabin the other white man +sat with a book before him, in which he inscribed strange marks and +lines. He looked at Mauki as though he had been a pig or a fowl, +glanced under the hollows of his arms, and wrote in the book. Then he +held out the writing stick and Mauki just barely touched it with his +hand, in so doing pledging himself to toil for three years on the +plantations of the Moongleam Soap Company. It was not explained to him +that the will of the ferocious white men would be used to enforce the +pledge, and that, behind all, for the same use, was all the power and +all the warships of Great Britain. + +Other blacks there were on board, from unheard-of far places, and when +the white man spoke to them, they tore the long feather from Mauki's +hair, cut that same hair short, and wrapped about his waist a +lava-lava of bright yellow calico. + +After many days on the schooner, and after beholding more land and +islands than he had ever dreamed of, he was landed on New Georgia, and +put to work in the field clearing jungle and cutting cane grass. For +the first time he knew what work was. Even as a slave to Fanfoa he had +not worked like this. And he did not like work. It was up at dawn and +in at dark, on two meals a day. And the food was tiresome. For weeks +at a time they were given nothing but sweet potatoes to eat, and for +weeks at a time it would be nothing but rice. He cut out the cocoanut +from the shells day after day; and for long days and weeks he fed the +fires that smoked the copra, till his eyes got sore and he was set to +felling trees. He was a good axe-man, and later he was put in the +bridge-building gang. Once, he was punished by being put in the +road-building gang. At times he served as boat's crew in the whale +boats, when they brought in copra from distant beaches or when the +white men went out to dynamite fish. + +Among other things he learned beche-de-mer English, with which he +could talk with all white men, and with all recruits who otherwise +would have talked in a thousand different dialects. Also, he learned +certain things about the white men, principally that they kept their +word. If they told a boy he was going to receive a stick of tobacco, +he got it. If they told a boy they would knock seven bells out of him +if he did a certain thing, when he did that thing, seven bells +invariably were knocked out of him. Mauki did not know what seven +bells were, but they occurred in beche-de-mer, and he imagined them to +be the blood and teeth that sometimes accompanied the process of +knocking out seven bells. One other thing he learned: no boy was +struck or punished unless he did wrong. Even when the white men were +drunk, as they were frequently, they never struck unless a rule had +been broken. + +Mauki did not like the plantation. He hated work, and he was the son +of a chief. Furthermore, it was ten years since he had been stolen +from Port Adams by Fanfoa, and he was homesick. He was even homesick +for the slavery under Fanfoa. So he ran away. He struck back into the +bush, with the idea of working southward to the beach and stealing a +canoe in which to go home to Port Adams. + +But the fever got him, and he was captured and brought back more dead +than alive. + +A second time he ran away, in the company of two Malaita boys. They +got down the coast twenty miles, and were hidden in the hut of a +Malaita freeman, who dwelt in that village. But in the dead of night +two white men came, who were not afraid of all the village people and +who knocked seven bells out of the three runaways, tied them like +pigs, and tossed them into the whale boat. But the man in whose house +they had hidden--seven times seven bells must have been knocked out of +him from the way the hair, skin, and teeth flew, and he was +discouraged for the rest of his natural life from harboring runaway +laborers. + +For a year Mauki toiled on. Then he was made a house-boy, and had good +food and easy times, with light work in keeping the house clean and +serving the white men with whiskey and beer at all hours of the day +and most hours of the night. He liked it, but he liked Port Adams +more. He had two years longer to serve, but two years were too long +for him in the throes of homesickness. He had grown wiser with his +year of service, and, being now a house-boy, he had opportunity. He +had the cleaning of the rifles, and he knew where the key to the store +room was hung. He planned to escape, and one night ten Malaita boys +and one boy from San Cristoval sneaked from the barracks and dragged +one of the whale boats down to the beach. It was Mauki who supplied +the key that opened the padlock on the boat, and it was Mauki who +equipped the boat with a dozen Winchesters, an immense amount of +ammunition, a case of dynamite with detonators and fuse, and ten cases +of tobacco. + +The northwest monsoon was blowing, and they fled south in the night +time, hiding by day on detached and uninhabited islets, or dragging +their whale boat into the bush on the large islands. Thus they gained +Guadalcanar, skirted halfway along it, and crossed the Indispensable +Straits to Florida Island. It was here that they killed the San +Cristoval boy, saving his head and cooking and eating the rest of him. +The Malaita coast was only twenty miles away, but the last night a +strong current and baffling winds prevented them from gaining across. +Daylight found them still several miles from their goal. But daylight +brought a cutter, in which were two white men, who were not afraid of +eleven Malaita men armed with twelve rifles. Mauki and his companions +were carried back to Tulagi, where lived the great white master of all +the white men. And the great white master held a court, after which, +one by one, the runaways were tied up and given twenty lashes each, +and sentenced to a fine of fifteen dollars. They were sent back to New +Georgia, where the white men knocked seven bells out of them all +around and put them to work. But Mauki was no longer house-boy. He was +put in the road-making gang. The fine of fifteen dollars had been paid +by the white men from whom he had run away, and he was told that he +would have to work it out, which meant six months' additional toil. +Further, his share of the stolen tobacco earned him another year of +toil. + +Port Adams was now three years and a half away, so he stole a canoe +one night, hid on the islets in Manning Straits, passed through the +Straits, and began working along the eastern coast of Ysabel, only to +be captured, two-thirds of the way along, by the white men on Meringe +Lagoon. After a week, he escaped from them and took to the bush. There +were no bush natives on Ysabel, only salt-water men, who were all +Christians. The white men put up a reward of five-hundred sticks of +tobacco, and every time Mauki ventured down to the sea to steal a +canoe he was chased by the salt-water men. Four months of this passed, +when, the reward having been raised to a thousand sticks, he was +caught and sent back to New Georgia and the road-building gang. Now a +thousand sticks are worth fifty dollars, and Mauki had to pay the +reward himself, which required a year and eight months' labor. So Port +Adams was now five years away. + +His homesickness was greater than ever, and it did not appeal to him +to settle down and be good, work out his four years, and go home. The +next time, he was caught in the very act of running away. His case was +brought before Mr. Haveby, the island manager of the Moongleam Soap +Company, who adjudged him an incorrigible. The Company had plantations +on the Santa Cruz Islands, hundreds of miles across the sea, and there +it sent its Solomon Islands' incorrigibles. And there Mauki was sent, +though he never arrived. The schooner stopped at Santa Anna, and in +the night Mauki swam ashore, where he stole two rifles and a case of +tobacco from the trader and got away in a canoe to Cristoval. Malaita +was now to the north, fifty or sixty miles away. But when he attempted +the passage, he was caught by a light gale and driven back to Santa +Anna, where the trader clapped him in irons and held him against the +return of the schooner from Santa Cruz. The two rifles the trader +recovered, but the case of tobacco was charged up to Mauki at the rate +of another year. The sum of years he now owed the Company was six. + +On the way back to New Georgia, the schooner dropped anchor in Marau +Sound, which lies at the southeastern extremity of Guadalcanar. Mauki +swam ashore with handcuffs on his wrists and got away to the bush. The +schooner went on, but the Moongleam trader ashore offered a thousand +sticks, and to him Mauki was brought by the bushmen with a year and +eight months tacked on to his account. Again, and before the schooner +called in, he got away, this time in a whale boat accompanied by a +case of the trader's tobacco. But a northwest gale wrecked him upon +Ugi, where the Christian natives stole his tobacco and turned him over +to the Moongleam trader who resided there. The tobacco the natives +stole meant another year for him, and the tale was now eight years and +a half. + +"We'll send him to Lord Howe," said Mr. Haveby. "Bunster is there, and +we'll let them settle it between them. It will be a case, I imagine, +of Mauki getting Bunster, or Bunster getting Mauki, and good riddance +in either event." + +If one leaves Meringe Lagoon, on Ysabel, and steers a course due +north, magnetic, at the end of one hundred and fifty miles he will +lift the pounded coral beaches of Lord Howe above the sea. Lord Howe +is a ring of land some one hundred and fifty miles in circumference, +several hundred yards wide at its widest, and towering in places to a +height of ten feet above sea level. Inside this ring of sand is a +mighty lagoon studded with coral patches. Lord Howe belongs to the +Solomons neither geographically nor ethnologically. It is an atoll, +while the Solomons are high islands; and its people and language are +Polynesian, while the inhabitants of the Solomons are Melanesian. + +Lord Howe has been populated by the westward Polynesian drift which +continues to this day, big outrigger canoes being washed upon its +beaches by the southeast trade. That there has been a slight +Melanesian drift in the period of the northwest monsoon, is also +evident. + +Nobody ever comes to Lord Howe, or Ontong-Java as it is sometimes +called. Thomas Cook & Son do not sell tickets to it, and tourists do +not dream of its existence. Not even a white missionary has landed on +its shore. Its five thousand natives are as peaceable as they are +primitive. Yet they were not always peaceable. The Sailing Directions +speak of them as hostile and treacherous. But the men who compile the +Sailing Directions have never heard of the change that was worked in +the hearts of the inhabitants, who, not many years ago, cut off a big +bark and killed all hands with the exception of the second mate. The +survivor carried the news to his brothers. The captains of three +trading schooners returned with him to Lord Howe. They sailed their +vessels right into the lagoon and proceeded to preach the white man's +gospel that only white men shall kill white men and that the lesser +breeds must keep hands off. The schooners sailed up and down the +lagoon, harrying and destroying. There was no escape from the narrow +sand-circle, no bush to which to flee. The men were shot down at +sight, and there was no avoiding being sighted. The villages were +burned, the canoes smashed, the chickens and pigs killed, and the +precious cocoanut trees chopped down. For a month this continued, when +the schooner sailed away; but the fear of the white man had been +seared into the souls of the islanders and never again were they rash +enough to harm one. + +Max Bunster was the one white man on Lord Howe, trading in the pay of +the ubiquitous Moongleam Soap Company. And the Company billeted him on +Lord Howe, because, next to getting rid of him, it was the most +out-of-the-way place to be found. That the Company did not get rid of +him was due to the difficulty of finding another man to take his +place. He was a strapping big German, with something wrong in his +brain. Semi-madness would be a charitable statement of his condition. +He was a bully and a coward, and a thrice-bigger savage than any +savage on the island. + +Being a coward, his brutality was of the cowardly order. When he first +went into the Company's employ, he was stationed on Savo. When a +consumptive colonial was sent to take his place, he beat him up with +his fists and sent him off a wreck in the schooner that brought him. + +Mr. Haveby next selected a young Yorkshire giant to relieve Bunster. +The Yorkshire man had a reputation as a bruiser and preferred fighting +to eating. But Bunster wouldn't fight. He was a regular little +lamb--for ten days, at the end of which time the Yorkshire man was +prostrated by a combined attack of dysentery and fever. Then Bunster +went for him, among other things getting him down and jumping on him a +score or so of times. Afraid of what would happen when his victim +recovered. Bunster fled away in a cutter to Guvutu, where he +signalized himself by beating up a young Englishman already crippled +by a Boer bullet through both hips. + +Then it was that Mr. Haveby sent Bunster to Lord Howe, the falling-off +place. He celebrated his landing by mopping up half a case of gin and +by thrashing the elderly and wheezy mate of the schooner which had +brought him. When the schooner departed, he called the kanakas down to +the beach and challenged them to throw him in a wrestling bout, +promising a case of tobacco to the one who succeeded. Three kanakas he +threw, but was promptly thrown by a fourth, who, instead of receiving +the tobacco, got a bullet through his lungs. + +And so began Bunster's reign on Lord Howe. Three thousand people lived +in the principal village; but it was deserted, even in broad day, when +he passed through. Men, women, and children fled before him. Even the +dogs and pigs got out of the way, while the king was not above hiding +under a mat. The two prime ministers lived in terror of Bunster, who +never discussed any moot subject, but struck out with his fists +instead. + +And to Lord Howe came Mauki, to toil for Bunster for eight long years +and a half. There was no escaping from Lord Howe. For better or worse, +Bunster and he were tied together. Bunster weighed two hundred pounds. +Mauki weighed one hundred and ten. Bunster was a degenerate brute. But +Mauki was a primitive savage. While both had wills and ways of their +own. + +Mauki had no idea of the sort of master he was to work for. He had had +no warnings, and he had concluded as a matter of course that Bunster +would be like other white men, a drinker of much whiskey, a ruler and +a lawgiver who always kept his word and who never struck a boy +undeserved. Bunster had the advantage. He knew all about Mauki, and +gloated over the coming into possession of him. The last cook was +suffering from a broken arm and a dislocated shoulder, so Bunster made +Mauki cook and general house-boy. + +And Mauki soon learned that there were white men and white men. On +the very day the schooner departed he was ordered to buy a chicken +from Samisee, the native Tongan missionary. But Samisee had sailed +across the lagoon and would not be back for three days. Mauki returned +with the information. He climbed the steep stairway (the house stood +on piles twelve feet above the sand), and entered the living room to +report. The trader demanded the chicken. Mauki opened his mouth to +explain the missionary's absence. But Bunster did not care for +explanations. He struck out with his fist. The blow caught Mauki on +the mouth and lifted him into the air. Clear through the doorway he +flew, across the narrow veranda, breaking the top railing, and down to +the ground. + +His lips were a contused, shapeless mass, and his mouth was full of +blood and broken teeth. + +"That'll teach you that back talk don't go with me," the trader +shouted, purple with rage, peering down at him over the broken +railing. + +Mauki had never met a white man like this, and he resolved to walk +small and never offend. He saw the boat boys knocked about, and one of +them put in irons for three days with nothing to eat for the crime of +breaking a rowlock while pulling. Then, too, he heard the gossip of +the village and learned why Bunster had taken a third wife--by force, +as was well known. The first and second wives lay in the graveyard, +under the white coral sand, with slabs of coral rock at head and feet. +They had died, it was said, from beatings he had given them. The third +wife was certainly ill-used, as Mauki could see for himself. + +But there was no way by which to avoid offending the white man who +seemed offended with life. When Mauki kept silent, he was struck and +called a sullen brute. When he spoke, he was struck for giving back +talk. When he was grave, Bunster accused him of plotting and gave him +a thrashing in advance; and when he strove to be cheerful and to +smile, he was charged with sneering at his lord and master and given a +taste of stick. Bunster was a devil. + +The village would have done for him, had it not remembered the lesson +of the three schooners. It might have done for him anyway, if there +had been a bush to which to flee. As it was, the murder of the white +men, of any white man, would bring a man-of-war that would kill the +offenders and chop down the precious cocoanut trees. Then there were +the boat boys, with minds fully made up to drown him by accident at +the first opportunity to capsize the cutter. Only Bunster saw to it +that the boat did not capsize. + +Mauki was of a different breed, and escape being impossible while +Bunster lived, he was resolved to get the white man. The trouble was +that he could never find a chance. Bunster was always on guard. Day +and night his revolvers were ready to hand. He permitted nobody to +pass behind his back, as Mauki learned after having been knocked down +several times. Bunster knew that he had more to fear from the +good-natured, even sweet-faced, Malaita boy than from the entire +population of Lord Howe; and it gave added zest to the programme of +torment he was carrying out. And Mauki walked small, accepted his +punishments, and waited. + +All other white men had respected his tambos, but not so Bunster. + +Mauki's weekly allowance of tobacco was two sticks. Bunster passed +them to his woman and ordered Mauki to receive them from her hand. But +this could not be, and Mauki went without his tobacco. In the same way +he was made to miss many a meal, and to go hungry many a day. He was +ordered to make chowder out of the big clams that grew in the lagoon. +This he could not do, for clams were tambo. Six times in succession he +refused to touch the clams, and six times he was knocked senseless. +Bunster knew that the boy would die first, but called his refusal +mutiny, and would have killed him had there been another cook to take +his place. + +One of the trader's favorite tricks was to catch Mauki's kinky locks +and bat his head against the wall. Another trick was to catch Mauki +unawares and thrust the live end of a cigar against his flesh. This +Bunster called vaccination, and Mauki was vaccinated a number of times +a week. Once, in a rage, Bunster ripped the cup handle from Mauki's +nose, tearing the hole clear out of the cartilage. + +"Oh, what a mug!" was his comment, when he surveyed the damage he had +wrought. + +The skin of a shark is like sandpaper, but the skin of a ray fish is +like a rasp. In the South Seas the natives use it as a wood file in +smoothing down canoes and paddles. Bunster had a mitten made of ray +fish skin. The first time he tried it on Mauki, with one sweep of the +hand it fetched the skin off his back from neck to armpit. Bunster was +delighted. He gave his wife a taste of the mitten, and tried it out +thoroughly on the boat boys. The prime ministers came in for a stroke +each, and they had to grin and take it for a joke. + +"Laugh, damn you, laugh!" was the cue he gave. + +Mauki came in for the largest share of the mitten. Never a day passed +without a caress from it. There were times when the loss of so much +cuticle kept him awake at night, and often the half-healed surface was +raked raw afresh by the facetious Mr. Bunster. Mauki continued his +patient wait, secure in the knowledge that sooner or later his time +would come. And he knew just what he was going to do, down to the +smallest detail, when the time did come. + +One morning Bunster got up in a mood for knocking seven bells out of +the universe. He began on Mauki, and wound up on Mauki, in the +interval knocking down his wife and hammering all the boat boys. At +breakfast he called the coffee slops and threw the scalding contents +of the cup into Mauki's face. By ten o'clock Bunster was shivering +with ague, and half an hour later he was burning with fever. It was no +ordinary attack. It quickly became pernicious, and developed into +black-water fever. The days passed, and he grew weaker and weaker, +never leaving his bed. Mauki waited and watched, the while his skin +grew intact once more. He ordered the boys to beach the cutter, scrub +her bottom, and give her a general overhauling. They thought the order +emanated from Bunster, and they obeyed. But Bunster at the time was +lying unconscious and giving no orders. This was Mauki's chance, but +still he waited. + +When the worst was past, and Bunster lay convalescent and conscious, +but weak as a baby, Mauki packed his few trinkets, including the china +cup handle, into his trade box. Then he went over to the village and +interviewed the king and his two prime ministers. + +"This fella Bunster, him good fella you like too much?" he asked. + +They explained in one voice that they liked the trader not at all. The +ministers poured forth a recital of all the indignities and wrongs +that had been heaped upon them. The king broke down and wept. Mauki +interrupted rudely. + +"You savve me--me big fella marster my country. You no like 'm this +fella white marster. Me no like 'm. Plenty good you put hundred +cocoanut, two hundred cocoanut, three hundred cocoanut along cutter. +Him finish, you go sleep 'm good fella. Altogether kanaka sleep m good +fella. Bime by big fella noise along house, you no savve hear 'm that +fella noise. You altogether sleep strong fella too much." + +In like manner Mauki interviewed the boat boys. Then he ordered +Bunster's wife to return to her family house. Had she refused, he +would have been in a quandary, for his tambo would not have permitted +him to lay hands on her. + +The house deserted, he entered the sleeping room, where the trader lay +in a doze. Mauki first removed the revolvers, then placed the ray fish +mitten on his hand. Bunster's first warning was a stroke of the mitten +that removed the skin the full length of his nose. + +"Good fella, eh?" Mauki grinned, between two strokes, one of which +swept the forehead bare and the other of which cleaned off one side of +his face. "Laugh, damn you, laugh." + +Mauki did his work throughly, and the kanakas, hiding in their houses, +heard the "big fella noise" that Bunster made and continued to make +for an hour or more. + +When Mauki was done, he carried the boat compass and all the rifles +and ammunition down to the cutter, which he proceeded to ballast with +cases of tobacco. It was while engaged in this that a hideous, +skinless thing came out of the house and ran screaming down the beach +till it fell in the sand and mowed and gibbered under the scorching +sun. Mauki looked toward it and hesitated. Then he went over and +removed the head, which he wrapped in a mat and stowed in the stern +locker of the cutter. + +So soundly did the kanakas sleep through that long hot day that they +did not see the cutter run out through the passage and head south, +close-hauled on the southeast trade. Nor was the cutter ever sighted +on that long tack to the shores of Ysabel, and during the tedious +head-beat from there to Malaita. He landed at Port Adams with a wealth +of rifles and tobacco such as no one man had ever possessed before. +But he did not stop there. He had taken a white man's head, and only +the bush could shelter him. So back he went to the bush villages, +where he shot old Fanfoa and half a dozen of the chief men, and made +himself the chief over all the villages. When his father died, Mauki's +brother ruled in Port Adams, and joined together, salt-water men and +bushmen, the resulting combination was the strongest of the ten score +fighting tribes of Malaita. + +More than his fear of the British government was Mauki's fear of the +all-powerful Moongleam Soap Company; and one day a message came up to +him in the bush, reminding him that he owed the Company eight and +one-half years of labor. He sent back a favorable answer, and then +appeared the inevitable white man, the captain of the schooner, the +only white man during Mauki's reign, who ventured the bush and came +out alive. This man not only came out, but he brought with him seven +hundred and fifty dollars in gold sovereigns--the money price of eight +years and a half of labor plus the cost price of certain rifles and +cases of tobacco. + +Mauki no longer weighs one hundred and ten pounds. His stomach is +three times its former girth, and he has four wives. He has many other +things--rifles and revolvers, the handle of a china cup, and an +excellent collection of bushmen's heads. But more precious than the +entire collection is another head, perfectly dried and cured, with +sandy hair and a yellowish beard, which is kept wrapped in the finest +of fibre lava-lavas. When Mauki goes to war with villages beyond his +realm, he invariably gets out this head, and alone in his grass +palace, contemplates it long and solemnly. At such times the hush of +death falls on the village, and not even a pickaninny dares make a +noise. The head is esteemed the most powerful devil-devil on Malaita, +and to the possession of it is ascribed all of Mauki's greatness. + + + +"YAH! YAH! YAH!" + +He was a whiskey-guzzling Scotchman, and he downed his whiskey neat, +beginning with his first tot punctually at six in the morning, and +thereafter repeating it at regular intervals throughout the day till +bedtime, which was usually midnight. He slept but five hours out of +the twenty-four, and for the remaining nineteen hours he was quietly +and decently drunk. During the eight weeks I spent with him on Oolong +Atoll, I never saw him draw a sober breath. In fact, his sleep was so +short that he never had time to sober up. It was the most beautiful +and orderly perennial drunk I have ever observed. + +McAllister was his name. He was an old man, and very shaky on his +pins. His hand trembled as with a palsy, especially noticeable when he +poured his whiskey, though I never knew him to spill a drop. He had +been twenty-eight years in Melanesia, ranging from German New Guinea +to the German Solomons, and so thoroughly had he become identified +with that portion of the world, that he habitually spoke in that +bastard lingo called "bech-de-mer." Thus, in conversation with me, SUN +HE COME UP meant sunrise; KAI-KAI HE STOP meant that dinner was +served; and BELLY BELONG ME WALK ABOUT meant that he was sick at his +stomach. He was a small man, and a withered one, burned inside and +outside by ardent spirits and ardent sun. He was a cinder, a bit of a +clinker of a man, a little animated clinker, not yet quite cold, that +moved stiffly and by starts and jerks like an automaton. A gust of +wind would have blown him away. He weighed ninety pounds. + +But the immense thing about him was the power with which he ruled. +Oolong Atoll was one hundred and forty miles in circumference. One +steered by compass course in its lagoon. It was populated by five +thousand Polynesians, all strapping men and women, many of them +standing six feet in height and weighing a couple of hundred pounds. +Oolong was two hundred and fifty miles from the nearest land. Twice a +year a little schooner called to collect copra. The one white man on +Oolong was McAllister, petty trader and unintermittent guzzler; and he +ruled Oolong and its six thousand savages with an iron hand. He said +come, and they came, go, and they went. They never questioned his will +nor judgment. He was cantankerous as only an aged Scotchman can be, +and interfered continually in their personal affairs. When Nugu, the +king's daughter, wanted to marry Haunau from the other end of the +atoll, her father said yes; but McAllister said no, and the marriage +never came off. When the king wanted to buy a certain islet in the +lagoon from the chief priest, McAllister said no. The king was in debt +to the Company to the tune of 180,000 cocoanuts, and until that was +paid he was not to spend a single cocoanut on anything else. + +And yet the king and his people did not love McAllister. In truth, +they hated him horribly, and, to my knowledge, the whole population, +with the priests at the head, tried vainly for three months to pray +him to death. The devil-devils they sent after him were awe-inspiring, +but since McAllister did not believe in devil-devils, they were +without power over him. With drunken Scotchmen all signs fail. They +gathered up scraps of food which had touched his lips, an empty +whiskey bottle, a cocoanut from which he had drunk, and even his +spittle, and performed all kinds of deviltries over them. But +McAllister lived on. His health was superb. He never caught fever; nor +coughs nor colds; dysentery passed him by; and the malignant ulcers +and vile skin diseases that attack blacks and whites alike in that +climate never fastened upon him. He must have been so saturated with +alcohol as to defy the lodgment of germs. I used to imagine them +falling to the ground in showers of microscopic cinders as fast as +they entered his whiskey-sodden aura. No one loved him, not even +germs, while he loved only whiskey, and still he lived. + +I was puzzled. I could not understand six thousand natives putting up +with that withered shrimp of a tyrant. It was a miracle that he had +not died suddenly long since. Unlike the cowardly Melanesians, the +people were high-stomached and warlike. In the big graveyard, at head +and feet of the graves, were relics of past sanguinary +history--blubber-spades, rusty old bayonets and cutlasses, copper +bolts, rudder-irons, harpoons, bomb guns, bricks that could have come +from nowhere but a whaler's trying-out furnace, and old brass pieces +of the sixteenth century that verified the traditions of the early +Spanish navigators. Ship after ship had come to grief on Oolong. Not +thirty years before, the whaler BLENNERDALE, running into the lagoon +for repair, had been cut off with all hands. In similar fashion had +the crew of the GASKET, a sandalwood trader, perished. There was a big +French bark, the TOULON, becalmed off the atoll, which the islanders +boarded after a sharp tussle and wrecked in the Lipau Passage, the +captain and a handful of sailors escaping in the longboat. Then there +were the Spanish pieces, which told of the loss of one of the early +explorers. All this, of the vessels named, is a matter of history, and +is to be found in the SOUTH PACIFIC SAILING DIRECTORY. But that there +was other history, unwritten, I was yet to learn. In the meantime I +puzzled why six thousand primitive savages let one degenerate Scotch +despot live. + +One hot afternoon McAllister and I sat on the veranda looking out over +the lagoon, with all its wonder of jeweled colors. At our backs, +across the hundred yards of palm-studded sand, the outer surf roared +on the reef. It was dreadfully warm. We were in four degree south +latitude and the sun was directly overhead, having crossed the Line a +few days before on its journey south. There was no wind--not even a +catspaw. The season of the southeast trade was drawing to an early +close, and the northwest monsoon had not yet begun to blow. + +"They can't dance worth a damn," said McAllister. + +I had happened to mention that the Polynesian dances were superior to +the Papuan, and this McAllister had denied, for no other reason than +his cantankerousness. But it was too hot to argue, and I said nothing. +Besides, I had never seen the Oolong people dance. + +"I'll prove it to you," he announced, beckoning to the black New +Hanover boy, a labor recruit, who served as cook and general house +servant. "Hey, you, boy, you tell 'm one fella king come along me." + +The boy departed, and back came the prime minister, perturbed, ill at +ease, and garrulous with apologetic explanation. In short, the king +slept, and was not to be disturbed. + +"King he plenty strong fella sleep," was his final sentence. + +McAllister was in such a rage that the prime minister incontinently +fled, to return with the king himself. They were a magnificent pair, +the king especially, who must have been all of six feet three inches +in height. His features had the eagle-like quality that is so +frequently found in those of the North American Indian. He had been +molded and born to rule. His eyes flashed as he listened, but right +meekly he obeyed McAllister's command to fetch a couple of hundred of +the best dancers, male and female, in the village. And dance they did, +for two mortal hours, under that broiling sun. They did not love him +for it, and little he cared, in the end dismissing them with abuse and +sneers. + +The abject servility of those magnificent savages was terrifying. How +could it be? What was the secret of his rule? More and more I puzzled +as the days went by, and though I observed perpetual examples of his +undisputed sovereignty, never a clew was there as to how it was. + +One day I happened to speak of my disappointment in failing to trade +for a beautiful pair of orange cowries. The pair was worth five pounds +in Sydney if it was worth a cent. I had offered two hundred sticks of +tobacco to the owner, who had held out for three hundred. When I +casually mentioned the situation, McAllister immediately sent for the +man, took the shells from him, and turned them over to me. Fifty +sticks were all he permitted me to pay for them. The man accepted the +tobacco and seemed overjoyed at getting off so easily. As for me, I +resolved to keep a bridle on my tongue in the future. And still I +mulled over the secret of McAllister's power. I even went to the +extent of asking him directly, but all he did was to cock one eye, +look wise, and take another drink. + +One night I was out fishing in the lagoon with Oti, the man who had +been mulcted of the cowries. Privily, I had made up to him an +additional hundred and fifty sticks, and he had come to regard me with +a respect that was almost veneration, which was curious, seeing that +he was an old man, twice my age at least. + +"What name you fella kanaka all the same pickaninny?" I began on him. +"This fella trader he one fella. You fella kanaka plenty fella too +much. You fella kanaka just like 'm dog--plenty fright along that +fella trader. He no eat you, fella. He no get 'm teeth along him. What +name you too much fright?" + +"S'pose plenty fella kanaka kill 'm?" he asked. + +"He die," I retorted. "You fella kanaka kill 'm plenty fella white man +long time before. What name you fright this fella white man?" + +"Yes, we kill 'm plenty," was his answer. "My word! Any amount! Long +time before. One time, me young fella too much, one big fella ship he +stop outside. Wind he no blow. Plenty fella kanaka we get 'm canoe, +plenty fella canoe, we go catch 'm that fella ship. My word--we catch +'m big fella fight. Two, three white men shoot like hell. We no +fright. We come alongside, we go up side, plenty fella, maybe I think +fifty-ten (five hundred). One fella white Mary (woman) belong that +fella ship. Never before I see 'm white Mary. Bime by plenty white man +finish. One fella skipper he no die. Five fella, six fella white man +no die. Skipper he sing out. Some fella white man he fight. Some fella +white man he lower away boat. After that, all together over the side +they go. Skipper he sling white Mary down. After that they washee +(row) strong fella plenty too much. Father belong me, that time he +strong fella. He throw 'm one fella spear. That fella spear he go in +one side that white Mary. He no stop. My word, he go out other side +that fella Mary. She finish. Me no fright. Plenty kanaka too much no +fright." + +Old Oti's pride had been touched, for he suddenly stripped down his +lava-lava and showed me the unmistakable scar of a bullet. Before I +could speak, his line ran out suddenly. He checked it and attempted to +haul in, but found that the fish had run around a coral branch. +Casting a look of reproach at me for having beguiled him from his +watchfulness, he went over the side, feet first, turning over after he +got under and following his line down to bottom. The water was ten +fathoms. I leaned over and watched the play of his feet, growing dim +and dimmer, as they stirred the wan phosphorescence into ghostly +fires. Ten fathoms--sixty feet--it was nothing to him, an old man, +compared with the value of a hook and line. After what seemed five +minutes, though it could not have been more than a minute, I saw him +flaming whitely upward. He broke surface and dropped a ten pound rock +cod into the canoe, the line and hook intact, the latter still fast in +the fish's mouth. + +"It may be," I said remorselessly. "You no fright long ago. You plenty +fright now along that fella trader." + +"Yes, plenty fright," he confessed, with an air of dismissing the +subject. For half an hour we pulled up our lines and flung them out in +silence. Then small fish-sharks began to bite, and after losing a hook +apiece, we hauled in and waited for the sharks to go their way. + +"I speak you true," Oti broke into speech, "then you savve we fright +now." + +I lighted up my pipe and waited, and the story that Oti told me in +atrocious bech-de-mer I here turn into proper English. Otherwise, in +spirit and order of narrative, the tale is as it fell from Oti's lips. + +"It was after that that we were very proud. We had fought many times +with the strange white men who live upon the sea, and always we had +beaten them. A few of us were killed, but what was that compared with +the stores of wealth of a thousand thousand kinds that we found on the +ships? And then one day, maybe twenty years ago, or twenty-five, there +came a schooner right through the passage and into the lagoon. It was +a large schooner with three masts. She had five white men and maybe +forty boat's crew, black fellows from New Guinea and New Britain; and +she had come to fish beche-de-mer. She lay at anchor across the lagoon +from here, at Pauloo, and her boats scattered out everywhere, making +camps on the beaches where they cured the beche-de-mer. This made them +weak by dividing them, for those who fished here and those on the +schooner at Pauloo were fifty miles apart, and there were others +farther away still. + +"Our king and headmen held council, and I was one in the canoe that +paddled all afternoon and all night across the lagoon, bringing word +to the people of Pauloo that in the morning we would attack the +fishing camps at the one time and that it was for them to take the +schooner. We who brought the word were tired with the paddling, but we +took part in the attack. On the schooner were two white men, the +skipper and the second mate, with half a dozen black boys. The skipper +with three boys we caught on shore and killed, but first eight of us +the skipper killed with his two revolvers. We fought close together, +you see, at hand grapples. + +"The noise of our fighting told the mate what was happening, and he +put food and water and a sail in the small dingy, which was so small +that it was no more than twelve feet long. We came down upon the +schooner, a thousand men, covering the lagoon with our canoes. Also, +we were blowing conch shells, singing war songs, and striking the +sides of the canoes with our paddles. What chance had one white man +and three black boys against us? No chance at all, and the mate knew +it. + +"White men are hell. I have watched them much, and I am an old man +now, and I understand at last why the white men have taken to +themselves all the islands in the sea. It is because they are hell. +Here are you in the canoe with me. You are hardly more than a boy. You +are not wise, for each day I tell you many things you do not know. +When I was a little pickaninny, I knew more about fish and the ways of +fish than you know now. I am an old man, but I swim down to the bottom +of the lagoon, and you cannot follow me. What are you good for, +anyway? I do not know, except to fight. I have never seen you fight, +yet I know that you are like your brothers and that you will fight +like hell. Also, you are a fool, like your brothers. You do not know +when you are beaten. You will fight until you die, and then it will be +too late to know that you are beaten. + +"Now behold what this mate did. As we came down upon him, covering the +sea and blowing our conches, he put off from the schooner in the small +boat, along with the three black boys, and rowed for the passage. +There again he was a fool, for no wise man would put out to sea in so +small a boat. The sides of it were not four inches above the water. +Twenty canoes went after him, filled with two hundred young men. We +paddled five fathoms while his black boys were rowing one fathom. He +had no chance, but he was a fool. He stood up in the boat with a +rifle, and he shot many times. He was not a good shot, but as we drew +close many of us were wounded and killed. But still he had no chance. + +"I remember that all the time he was smoking a cigar. When we were +forty feet away and coming fast, he dropped the rifle, lighted a stick +of dynamite with the cigar, and threw it at us. He lighted another and +another, and threw them at us very rapidly, many of them. I know now +that he must have split the ends of the fuses and stuck in match +heads, because they lighted so quickly. Also, the fuses were very +short. Sometimes the dynamite sticks went off in the air, but most of +them went off in the canoes. And each time they went off in a canoe, +that canoe was finished. Of the twenty canoes, the half were smashed +to pieces. The canoe I was in was so smashed, and likewise the two men +who sat next to me. The dynamite fell between them. The other canoes +turned and ran away. Then that mate yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' at us. +Also he went at us again with his rifle, so that many were killed +through the back as they fled away. And all the time the black boys in +the boat went on rowing. You see, I told you true, that mate was hell. + +"Nor was that all. Before he left the schooner, he set her on fire, +and fixed up all the powder and dynamite so that it would go off at +one time. There were hundreds of us on board, trying to put out the +fire, heaving up water from overside, when the schooner blew up. So +that all we had fought for was lost to us, besides many more of us +being killed. Sometimes, even now, in my old age, I have bad dreams in +which I hear that mate yell, Yah! Yah! Yah!' In a voice of thunder he +yells, Yah! Yah! Yah!' But all those in the fishing camps were killed. + +"The mate went out of the passage in his little boat, and that was the +end of him we made sure, for how could so small a boat, with four men +in it, live on the ocean? A month went by, and then, one morning, +between two rain squalls, a schooner sailed in through our passage and +dropped anchor before the village. The king and the headmen made big +talk, and it was agreed that we would take the schooner in two or +three days. In the meantime, as it was our custom always to appear +friendly, we went off to her in canoes, bringing strings of cocoanuts, +fowls, and pigs, to trade. But when we were alongside, many canoes of +us, the men on board began to shoot us with rifles, and as we paddled +away I saw the mate who had gone to sea in the little boat spring upon +the rail and dance and yell, Yah! Yah! Yah!' + +"That afternoon they landed from the schooner in three small boats +filled with white men. They went right through the village, shooting +every man they saw. Also they shot the fowls and pigs. We who were not +killed got away in canoes and paddled out into the lagoon. Looking +back, we could see all the houses on fire. Late in the afternoon we +saw many canoes coming from Nihi, which is the village near the Nihi +Passage in the northeast. They were all that were left, and like us +their village had been burned by a second schooner that had come +through Nihi Passage. + +"We stood on in the darkness to the westward for Pauloo, but in the +middle of the night we heard women wailing and then we ran into a big +fleet of canoes. They were all that were left of Pauloo, which +likewise was in ashes, for a third schooner had come in through the +Pauloo Passage. You see, that mate, with his black boys, had not been +drowned. He had made the Solomon Islands, and there told his brothers +of what we had done in Oolong. And all his brothers had said they +would come and punish us, and there they were in the three schooners, +and our three villages were wiped out. + +"And what was there for us to do? In the morning the two schooners +from windward sailed down upon us in the middle of the lagoon. The +trade wind was blowing fresh, and by scores of canoes they ran us +down. And the rifles never ceased talking. We scattered like flying +fish before the bonita, and there were so many of us that we escaped +by thousands, this way and that, to the islands on the rim of the +atoll. + +"And thereafter the schooners hunted us up and down the lagoon. In the +nighttime we slipped past them. But the next day, or in two days or +three days, the schooners would be coming back, hunting us toward the +other end of the lagoon. And so it went. We no longer counted nor +remembered our dead. True, we were many and they were few. But what +could we do? I was in one of the twenty canoes filled with men who +were not afraid to die. We attacked the smallest schooner. They shot +us down in heaps. They threw dynamite into the canoes, and when the +dynamite gave out, they threw hot water down upon us. And the rifles +never ceased talking. And those whose canoes were smashed were shot as +they swam away. And the mate danced up and down upon the cabin top and +yelled, "Yah! Yah! Yah!" + +"Every house on every smallest island was burned. Not a pig nor a fowl +was left alive. Our wells were defiled with the bodies of the slain, +or else heaped high with coral rock. We were twenty-five thousand on +Oolong before the three schooners came. Today we are five thousand. +After the schooners left, we were but three thousand, as you shall +see. + +"At last the three schooners grew tired of chasing us back and forth. +So they went, the three of them, to Nihi, in the northeast. And then +they drove us steadily to the west. Their nine boats were in the water +as well. They beat up every island as they moved along. They drove us, +drove us, drove us day by day. And every night the three schooners and +the nine boats made a chain of watchfulness that stretched across the +lagoon from rim to rim, so that we could not escape back. + +"They could not drive us forever that way, for the lagoon was only so +large, and at last all of us that yet lived were driven upon the last +sand bank to the west. Beyond lay the open sea. There were ten +thousand of us, and we covered the sand bank from the lagoon edge to +the pounding surf on the other side. No one could lie down. There was +no room. We stood hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder. Two days they +kept us there, and the mate would climb up in the rigging to mock us +and yell, Yah! Yah! Yah!' till we were well sorry that we had ever +harmed him or his schooner a month before. We had no food, and we +stood on our feet two days and nights. The little babies died, and the +old and weak died, and the wounded died. And worst of all, we had no +water to quench our thirst, and for two days the sun beat down on us, +and there was no shade. Many men and women waded out into the ocean +and were drowned, the surf casting their bodies back on the beach. And +there came a pest of flies. Some men swam to the sides of the +schooners, but they were shot to the last one. And we that lived were +very sorry that in our pride we tried to take the schooner with the +three masts that came to fish for beche-de-mer. + +"On the morning of the third day came the skippers of the three +schooners and that mate in a small boat. They carried rifles, all of +them, and revolvers, and they made talk. It was only that they were +weary of killing us that they had stopped, they told us. And we told +them that we were sorry, that never again would we harm a white man, +and in token of our submission we poured sand upon our heads. And all +the women and children set up a great wailing for water, so that for +some time no man could make himself heard. Then we were told our +punishment. We must fill the three schooners with copra and +beche-de-mer. And we agreed, for we wanted water, and our hearts were +broken, and we knew that we were children at fighting when we fought +with white men who fight like hell. And when all the talk was +finished, the mate stood up and mocked us, and yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' +After that we paddled away in our canoes and sought water. + +"And for weeks we toiled at catching beche-de-mer and curing it, in +gathering the cocoanuts and turning them into copra. By day and night +the smoke rose in clouds from all the beaches of all the islands of +Oolong as we paid the penalty of our wrongdoing. For in those days of +death it was burned clearly on all our brains that it was very wrong +to harm a white man. + +"By and by, the schooners full of copra and beche-de-mer and our trees +empty of cocoanuts, the three skippers and that mate called us all +together for a big talk. And they said they were very glad that we had +learned our lesson, and we said for the ten-thousandth time that we +were sorry and that we would not do it again. Also, we poured sand +upon our heads. Then the skippers said that it was all very well, but +just to show us that they did not forget us, they would send a +devil-devil that we would never forget and that we would always +remember any time we might feel like harming a white man. After that +the mate mocked us one more time and yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!' Then six +of our men, whom we thought long dead, were put ashore from one of the +schooners, and the schooners hoisted their sails and ran out through +the passage for the Solomons. + +"The six men who were put ashore were the first to catch the +devil-devil the skippers sent back after us." + +"A great sickness came," I interrupted, for I recognized the trick. +The schooner had had measles on board, and the six prisoners had been +deliberately exposed to it. + +"Yes, a great sickness," Oti went on. "It was a powerful devil-devil. +The oldest man had never heard of the like. Those of our priests that +yet lived we killed because they could not overcome the devil-devil. +The sickness spread. I have said that there were ten thousand of us +that stood hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder on the sandbank. When +the sickness left us, there were three thousand yet alive. Also, +having made all our cocoanuts into copra, there was a famine. + +"That fella trader," Oti concluded, "he like 'm that much dirt. He +like 'm clam he die KAI-KAI (meat) he stop, stink 'm any amount. He +like 'm one fella dog, one sick fella dog plenty fleas stop along him. +We no fright along that fella trader. We fright because he white man. +We savve plenty too much no good kill white man. That one fella sick +dog trader he plenty brother stop along him, white men like 'm you +fight like hell. We no fright that damn trader. Some time he made +kanaka plenty cross along him and kanaka want 'm kill m, kanaka he +think devil-devil and kanaka he hear that fella mate sing out, Yah! +Yah! Yah!' and kanaka no kill 'm." + +Oti baited his hook with a piece of squid, which he tore with his +teeth from the live and squirming monster, and hook and bait sank in +white flames to the bottom. + +"Shark walk about he finish," he said. "I think we catch 'm plenty +fella fish." + +His line jerked savagely. He pulled it in rapidly, hand under hand, +and landed a big gasping rock cod in the bottom of the canoe. + +"Sun he come up, I make 'm that dam fella trader one present big fella +fish," said Oti. + + +THE HEATHEN + +I met him first in a hurricane; and though we had gone through the +hurricane on the same schooner, it was not until the schooner had gone +to pieces under us that I first laid eyes on him. Without doubt I had +seen him with the rest of the kanaka crew on board, but I had not +consciously been aware of his existence, for the Petite Jeanne was +rather overcrowded. In addition to her eight or ten kanaka seamen, her +white captain, mate, and supercargo, and her six cabin passengers, she +sailed from Rangiroa with something like eighty-five deck +passengers--Paumotans and Tahitians, men, women, and children each +with a trade box, to say nothing of sleeping mats, blankets, and +clothes bundles. + +The pearling season in the Paumotus was over, and all hands were +returning to Tahiti. The six of us cabin passengers were pearl buyers. +Two were Americans, one was Ah Choon (the whitest Chinese I have ever +known), one was a German, one was a Polish Jew, and I completed the +half dozen. + +It had been a prosperous season. Not one of us had cause for +complaint, nor one of the eighty-five deck passengers either. All had +done well, and all were looking forward to a rest-off and a good time +in Papeete. + +Of course, the Petite Jeanne was overloaded. She was only seventy +tons, and she had no right to carry a tithe of the mob she had on +board. Beneath her hatches she was crammed and jammed with pearl shell +and copra. Even the trade room was packed full with shell. It was a +miracle that the sailors could work her. There was no moving about the +decks. They simply climbed back and forth along the rails. + +In the night time they walked upon the sleepers, who carpeted the +deck, I'll swear, two deep. Oh! And there were pigs and chickens on +deck, and sacks of yams, while every conceivable place was festooned +with strings of drinking cocoanuts and bunches of bananas. On both +sides, between the fore and main shrouds, guys had been stretched, +just low enough for the foreboom to swing clear; and from each of +these guys at least fifty bunches of bananas were suspended. + +It promised to be a messy passage, even if we did make it in the two +or three days that would have been required if the southeast trades +had been blowing fresh. But they weren't blowing fresh. After the +first five hours the trade died away in a dozen or so gasping fans. +The calm continued all that night and the next day--one of those +glaring, glassy, calms, when the very thought of opening one's eyes to +look at it is sufficient to cause a headache. + +The second day a man died--an Easter Islander, one of the best divers +that season in the lagoon. Smallpox--that is what it was; though how +smallpox could come on board, when there had been no known cases +ashore when we left Rangiroa, is beyond me. There it was, +though--smallpox, a man dead, and three others down on their backs. + +There was nothing to be done. We could not segregate the sick, nor +could we care for them. We were packed like sardines. There was +nothing to do but rot and die--that is, there was nothing to do after +the night that followed the first death. On that night, the mate, the +supercargo, the Polish Jew, and four native divers sneaked away in the +large whale boat. They were never heard of again. In the morning the +captain promptly scuttled the remaining boats, and there we were. + +That day there were two deaths; the following day three; then it +jumped to eight. It was curious to see how we took it. The natives, +for instance, fell into a condition of dumb, stolid fear. The +captain--Oudouse, his name was, a Frenchman--became very nervous and +voluble. He actually got the twitches. He was a large fleshy man, +weighing at least two hundred pounds, and he quickly became a faithful +representation of a quivering jelly-mountain of fat. + +The German, the two Americans, and myself bought up all the Scotch +whiskey, and proceeded to stay drunk. The theory was +beautiful--namely, if we kept ourselves soaked in alcohol, every +smallpox germ that came into contact with us would immediately be +scorched to a cinder. And the theory worked, though I must confess +that neither Captain Oudouse nor Ah Choon were attacked by the disease +either. The Frenchman did not drink at all, while Ah Choon restricted +himself to one drink daily. + +It was a pretty time. The sun, going into northern declination, was +straight overhead. There was no wind, except for frequent squalls, +which blew fiercely for from five minutes to half an hour, and wound +up by deluging us with rain. After each squall, the awful sun would +come out, drawing clouds of steam from the soaked decks. + +The steam was not nice. It was the vapor of death, freighted with +millions and millions of germs. We always took another drink when we +saw it going up from the dead and dying, and usually we took two or +three more drinks, mixing them exceptionally stiff. Also, we made it a +rule to take an additional several each time they hove the dead over +to the sharks that swarmed about us. + +We had a week of it, and then the whiskey gave out. It is just as +well, or I shouldn't be alive now. It took a sober man to pull through +what followed, as you will agree when I mention the little fact that +only two men did pull through. The other man was the heathen--at +least, that was what I heard Captain Oudouse call him at the moment I +first became aware of the heathen's existence. But to come back. + +It was at the end of the week, with the whiskey gone, and the pearl +buyers sober, that I happened to glance at the barometer that hung in +the cabin companionway. Its normal register in the Paumotus was 29.90, +and it was quite customary to see it vacillate between 29.85 and +30.00, or even 30.05; but to see it as I saw it, down to 29.62, was +sufficient to sober the most drunken pearl buyer that ever incinerated +smallpox microbes in Scotch whiskey. + +I called Captain Oudouse's attention to it, only to be informed that +he had watched it going down for several hours. There was little to +do, but that little he did very well, considering the circumstances. +He took off the light sails, shortened right down to storm canvas, +spread life lines, and waited for the wind. His mistake lay in what he +did after the wind came. He hove to on the port tack, which was the +right thing to do south of the Equator, if--and there was the rub--IF +one were NOT in the direct path of the hurricane. + +We were in the direct path. I could see that by the steady increase of +the wind and the equally steady fall of the barometer. I wanted him to +turn and run with the wind on the port quarter until the barometer +ceased falling, and then to heave to. We argued till he was reduced to +hysteria, but budge he would not. The worst of it was that I could not +get the rest of the pearl buyers to back me up. Who was I, anyway, to +know more about the sea and its ways than a properly qualified +captain? was what was in their minds, I knew. + +Of course, the sea rose with the wind frightfully; and I shall never +forget the first three seas the Petite Jeanne shipped. She had fallen +off, as vessels do at times when hove to, and the first sea made a +clean breach. The life lines were only for the strong and well, and +little good were they even for them when the women and children, the +bananas and cocoanuts, the pigs and trade boxes, the sick and the +dying, were swept along in a solid, screeching, groaning mass. + +The second sea filled the Petite Jeanne'S decks flush with the rails; +and, as her stern sank down and her bow tossed skyward, all the +miserable dunnage of life and luggage poured aft. It was a human +torrent. They came head first, feet first, sidewise, rolling over and +over, twisting, squirming, writhing, and crumpling up. Now and again +one caught a grip on a stanchion or a rope; but the weight of the +bodies behind tore such grips loose. + +One man I noticed fetch up, head on and square on, with the starboard +bitt. His head cracked like an egg. I saw what was coming, sprang on +top of the cabin, and from there into the mainsail itself. Ah Choon +and one of the Americans tried to follow me, but I was one jump ahead +of them. The American was swept away and over the stern like a piece +of chaff. Ah Choon caught a spoke of the wheel, and swung in behind +it. But a strapping Raratonga vahine (woman)--she must have weighed +two hundred and fifty--brought up against him, and got an arm around +his neck. He clutched the kanaka steersman with his other hand; and +just at that moment the schooner flung down to starboard. + +The rush of bodies and sea that was coming along the port runway +between the cabin and the rail turned abruptly and poured to +starboard. Away they went--vahine, Ah Choon, and steersman; and I +swear I saw Ah Choon grin at me with philosophic resignation as he +cleared the rail and went under. + +The third sea--the biggest of the three--did not do so much damage. By +the time it arrived nearly everybody was in the rigging. On deck +perhaps a dozen gasping, half-drowned, and half-stunned wretches were +rolling about or attempting to crawl into safety. They went by the +board, as did the wreckage of the two remaining boats. The other pearl +buyers and myself, between seas, managed to get about fifteen women +and children into the cabin, and battened down. Little good it did the +poor creatures in the end. + +Wind? Out of all my experience I could not have believed it possible +for the wind to blow as it did. There is no describing it. How can one +describe a nightmare? It was the same way with that wind. It tore the +clothes off our bodies. I say TORE THEM OFF, and I mean it. I am not +asking you to believe it. I am merely telling something that I saw and +felt. There are times when I do not believe it myself. I went through +it, and that is enough. One could not face that wind and live. It was +a monstrous thing, and the most monstrous thing about it was that it +increased and continued to increase. + +Imagine countless millions and billions of tons of sand. Imagine this +sand tearing along at ninety, a hundred, a hundred and twenty, or any +other number of miles per hour. Imagine, further, this sand to be +invisible, impalpable, yet to retain all the weight and density of +sand. Do all this, and you may get a vague inkling of what that wind +was like. + +Perhaps sand is not the right comparison. Consider it mud, invisible, +impalpable, but heavy as mud. Nay, it goes beyond that. Consider every +molecule of air to be a mudbank in itself. Then try to imagine the +multitudinous impact of mudbanks. No; it is beyond me. Language may be +adequate to express the ordinary conditions of life, but it cannot +possibly express any of the conditions of so enormous a blast of wind. +It would have been better had I stuck by my original intention of not +attempting a description. + +I will say this much: The sea, which had risen at first, was beaten +down by that wind. More: it seemed as if the whole ocean had been +sucked up in the maw of the hurricane, and hurled on through that +portion of space which previously had been occupied by the air. + +Of course, our canvas had gone long before. But Captain Oudouse had on +the Petite Jeanne something I had never before seen on a South Sea +schooner--a sea anchor. It was a conical canvas bag, the mouth of +which was kept open by a huge loop of iron. The sea anchor was bridled +something like a kite, so that it bit into the water as a kite bites +into the air, but with a difference. The sea anchor remained just +under the surface of the ocean in a perpendicular position. A long +line, in turn, connected it with the schooner. As a result, the Petite +Jeanne rode bow on to the wind and to what sea there was. + +The situation really would have been favorable had we not been in the +path of the storm. True, the wind itself tore our canvas out of the +gaskets, jerked out our topmasts, and made a raffle of our running +gear, but still we would have come through nicely had we not been +square in front of the advancing storm center. That was what fixed us. +I was in a state of stunned, numbed, paralyzed collapse from enduring +the impact of the wind, and I think I was just about ready to give up +and die when the center smote us. The blow we received was an absolute +lull. There was not a breath of air. The effect on one was sickening. + +Remember that for hours we had been at terrific muscular tension, +withstanding the awful pressure of that wind. And then, suddenly, the +pressure was removed. I know that I felt as though I was about to +expand, to fly apart in all directions. It seemed as if every atom +composing my body was repelling every other atom and was on the verge +of rushing off irresistibly into space. But that lasted only for a +moment. Destruction was upon us. + +In the absence of the wind and pressure the sea rose. It jumped, it +leaped, it soared straight toward the clouds. Remember, from every +point of the compass that inconceivable wind was blowing in toward the +center of calm. The result was that the seas sprang up from every +point of the compass. There was no wind to check them. They popped up +like corks released from the bottom of a pail of water. There was no +system to them, no stability. They were hollow, maniacal seas. They +were eighty feet high at the least. They were not seas at all. They +resembled no sea a man had ever seen. + +They were splashes, monstrous splashes--that is all. Splashes that +were eighty feet high. Eighty! They were more than eighty. They went +over our mastheads. They were spouts, explosions. They were drunken. +They fell anywhere, anyhow. They jostled one another; they collided. +They rushed together and collapsed upon one another, or fell apart +like a thousand waterfalls all at once. It was no ocean any man had +ever dreamed of, that hurricane center. It was confusion thrice +confounded. It was anarchy. It was a hell pit of sea water gone mad. + +The Petite Jeanne? I don't know. The heathen told me afterwards that +he did not know. She was literally torn apart, ripped wide open, +beaten into a pulp, smashed into kindling wood, annihilated. When I +came to I was in the water, swimming automatically, though I was about +two-thirds drowned. How I got there I had no recollection. I +remembered seeing the Petite Jeanne fly to pieces at what must have +been the instant that my own consciousness was buffeted out of me. But +there I was, with nothing to do but make the best of it, and in that +best there was little promise. The wind was blowing again, the sea was +much smaller and more regular, and I knew that I had passed through +the center. Fortunately, there were no sharks about. The hurricane had +dissipated the ravenous horde that had surrounded the death ship and +fed off the dead. + +It was about midday when the Petite Jeanne went to pieces, and it must +have been two hours afterwards when I picked up with one of her hatch +covers. Thick rain was driving at the time; and it was the merest +chance that flung me and the hatch cover together. A short length of +line was trailing from the rope handle; and I knew that I was good for +a day, at least, if the sharks did not return. Three hours later, +possibly a little longer, sticking close to the cover, and with closed +eyes, concentrating my whole soul upon the task of breathing in enough +air to keep me going and at the same time of avoiding breathing in +enough water to drown me, it seemed to me that I heard voices. The +rain had ceased, and wind and sea were easing marvelously. Not twenty +feet away from me, on another hatch cover were Captain Oudouse and the +heathen. They were fighting over the possession of the cover--at +least, the Frenchman was. "Paien noir!" I heard him scream, and at the +same time I saw him kick the kanaka. + +Now, Captain Oudouse had lost all his clothes, except his shoes, and +they were heavy brogans. It was a cruel blow, for it caught the +heathen on the mouth and the point of the chin, half stunning him. I +looked for him to retaliate, but he contented himself with swimming +about forlornly a safe ten feet away. Whenever a fling of the sea +threw him closer, the Frenchman, hanging on with his hands, kicked out +at him with both feet. Also, at the moment of delivering each kick, he +called the kanaka a black heathen. + +"For two centimes I'd come over there and drown you, you white beast!" +I yelled. + +The only reason I did not go was that I felt too tired. The very +thought of the effort to swim over was nauseating. So I called to the +kanaka to come to me, and proceeded to share the hatch cover with him. +Otoo, he told me his name was (pronounced o-to-o ); also, he told me +that he was a native of Bora Bora, the most westerly of the Society +Group. As I learned afterward, he had got the hatch cover first, and, +after some time, encountering Captain Oudouse, had offered to share it +with him, and had been kicked off for his pains. + +And that was how Otoo and I first came together. He was no fighter. He +was all sweetness and gentleness, a love creature, though he stood +nearly six feet tall and was muscled like a gladiator. He was no +fighter, but he was also no coward. He had the heart of a lion; and in +the years that followed I have seen him run risks that I would never +dream of taking. What I mean is that while he was no fighter, and +while he always avoided precipitating a row, he never ran away from +trouble when it started. And it was "Ware shoal!" when once Otoo went +into action. I shall never forget what he did to Bill King. It +occurred in German Samoa. Bill King was hailed the champion +heavyweight of the American Navy. He was a big brute of a man, a +veritable gorilla, one of those hard-hitting, rough-housing chaps, and +clever with his fists as well. He picked the quarrel, and he kicked +Otoo twice and struck him once before Otoo felt it to be necessary to +fight. I don't think it lasted four minutes, at the end of which time +Bill King was the unhappy possessor of four broken ribs, a broken +forearm, and a dislocated shoulder blade. Otoo knew nothing of +scientific boxing. He was merely a manhandler; and Bill King was +something like three months in recovering from the bit of manhandling +he received that afternoon on Apia beach. + +But I am running ahead of my yarn. We shared the hatch cover between +us. We took turn and turn about, one lying flat on the cover and +resting, while the other, submerged to the neck, merely held on with +his hands. For two days and nights, spell and spell, on the cover and +in the water, we drifted over the ocean. Towards the last I was +delirious most of the time; and there were times, too, when I heard +Otoo babbling and raving in his native tongue. Our continuous +immersion prevented us from dying of thirst, though the sea water and +the sunshine gave us the prettiest imaginable combination of salt +pickle and sunburn. + +In the end, Otoo saved my life; for I came to lying on the beach +twenty feet from the water, sheltered from the sun by a couple of +cocoanut leaves. No one but Otoo could have dragged me there and stuck +up the leaves for shade. He was lying beside me. I went off again; and +the next time I came round, it was cool and starry night, and Otoo was +pressing a drinking cocoanut to my lips. + +We were the sole survivors of the Petite Jeanne. Captain Oudouse must +have succumbed to exhaustion, for several days later his hatch cover +drifted ashore without him. Otoo and I lived with the natives of the +atoll for a week, when we were rescued by the French cruiser and taken +to Tahiti. In the meantime, however, we had performed the ceremony of +exchanging names. In the South Seas such a ceremony binds two men +closer together than blood brothership. The initiative had been mine; +and Otoo was rapturously delighted when I suggested it. + +"It is well," he said, in Tahitian. "For we have been mates together +for two days on the lips of Death." + +"But death stuttered," I smiled. + +"It was a brave deed you did, master," he replied, "and Death was not +vile enough to speak." + +"Why do you 'master' me?" I demanded, with a show of hurt feelings. +"We have exchanged names. To you I am Otoo. To me you are Charley. And +between you and me, forever and forever, you shall be Charley, and I +shall be Otoo. It is the way of the custom. And when we die, if it +does happen that we live again somewhere beyond the stars and the sky, +still shall you be Charley to me, and I Otoo to you." + +"Yes, master," he answered, his eyes luminous and soft with joy. + +"There you go!" I cried indignantly. + +"What does it matter what my lips utter?" he argued. "They are only my +lips. But I shall think Otoo always. Whenever I think of myself, I +shall think of you. Whenever men call me by name, I shall think of +you. And beyond the sky and beyond the stars, always and forever, you +shall be Otoo to me. Is it well, master?" + +I hid my smile, and answered that it was well. + +We parted at Papeete. I remained ashore to recuperate; and he went on +in a cutter to his own island, Bora Bora. Six weeks later he was back. +I was surprised, for he had told me of his wife, and said that he was +returning to her, and would give over sailing on far voyages. + +"Where do you go, master?" he asked, after our first greetings. + +I shrugged my shoulders. It was a hard question. + +"All the world," was my answer--"all the world, all the sea, and all +the islands that are in the sea." + +"I will go with you," he said simply. "My wife is dead." + +I never had a brother; but from what I have seen of other men's +brothers, I doubt if any man ever had a brother that was to him what +Otoo was to me. He was brother and father and mother as well. And this +I know: I lived a straighter and better man because of Otoo. I cared +little for other men, but I had to live straight in Otoo's eyes. +Because of him I dared not tarnish myself. He made me his ideal, +compounding me, I fear, chiefly out of his own love and worship and +there were times when I stood close to the steep pitch of hell, and +would have taken the plunge had not the thought of Otoo restrained me. +His pride in me entered into me, until it became one of the major +rules in my personal code to do nothing that would diminish that pride +of his. + +Naturally, I did not learn right away what his feelings were toward +me. He never criticized, never censured; and slowly the exalted place +I held in his eyes dawned upon me, and slowly I grew to comprehend the +hurt I could inflict upon him by being anything less than my best. + +For seventeen years we were together; for seventeen years he was at my +shoulder, watching while I slept, nursing me through fever and +wounds--ay, and receiving wounds in fighting for me. He signed on the +same ships with me; and together we ranged the Pacific from Hawaii to +Sydney Head, and from Torres Straits to the Galapagos. We blackbirded +from the New Hebrides and the Line Islands over to the westward clear +through the Louisades, New Britain, New Ireland, and New Hanover. We +were wrecked three times--in the Gilberts, in the Santa Cruz group, +and in the Fijis. And we traded and salved wherever a dollar promised +in the way of pearl and pearl shell, copra, beche-de-mer, hawkbill +turtle shell, and stranded wrecks. + +It began in Papeete, immediately after his announcement that he was +going with me over all the sea, and the islands in the midst thereof. +There was a club in those days in Papeete, where the pearlers, +traders, captains, and riffraff of South Sea adventurers forgathered. +The play ran high, and the drink ran high; and I am very much afraid +that I kept later hours than were becoming or proper. No matter what +the hour was when I left the club, there was Otoo waiting to see me +safely home. + +At first I smiled; next I chided him. Then I told him flatly that I +stood in need of no wet-nursing. After that I did not see him when I +came out of the club. Quite by accident, a week or so later, I +discovered that he still saw me home, lurking across the street among +the shadows of the mango trees. What could I do? I know what I did do. + +Insensibly I began to keep better hours. On wet and stormy nights, in +the thick of the folly and the fun, the thought would persist in +coming to me of Otoo keeping his dreary vigil under the dripping +mangoes. Truly, he made a better man of me. Yet he was not +strait-laced. And he knew nothing of common Christian morality. All +the people on Bora Bora were Christians; but he was a heathen, the +only unbeliever on the island, a gross materialist, who believed that +when he died he was dead. He believed merely in fair play and square +dealing. Petty meanness, in his code, was almost as serious as wanton +homicide; and I do believe that he respected a murderer more than a +man given to small practices. + +Concerning me, personally, he objected to my doing anything that was +hurtful to me. Gambling was all right. He was an ardent gambler +himself. But late hours, he explained, were bad for one's health. He +had seen men who did not take care of themselves die of fever. He was +no teetotaler, and welcomed a stiff nip any time when it was wet work +in the boats. On the other hand, he believed in liquor in moderation. +He had seen many men killed or disgraced by square-face or Scotch. + +Otoo had my welfare always at heart. He thought ahead for me, weighed +my plans, and took a greater interest in them than I did myself. At +first, when I was unaware of this interest of his in my affairs, he +had to divine my intentions, as, for instance, at Papeete, when I +contemplated going partners with a knavish fellow-countryman on a +guano venture. I did not know he was a knave. Nor did any white man in +Papeete. Neither did Otoo know, but he saw how thick we were getting, +and found out for me, and without my asking him. Native sailors from +the ends of the seas knock about on the beach in Tahiti; and Otoo, +suspicious merely, went among them till he had gathered sufficient +data to justify his suspicions. Oh, it was a nice history, that of +Randolph Waters. I couldn't believe it when Otoo first narrated it; +but when I sheeted it home to Waters he gave in without a murmur, and +got away on the first steamer to Aukland. + +At first, I am free to confess, I couldn't help resenting Otoo's +poking his nose into my business. But I knew that he was wholly +unselfish; and soon I had to acknowledge his wisdom and discretion. He +had his eyes open always to my main chance, and he was both +keen-sighted and far-sighted. In time he became my counselor, until he +knew more of my business than I did myself. He really had my interest +at heart more than I did. Mine was the magnificent carelessness of +youth, for I preferred romance to dollars, and adventure to a +comfortable billet with all night in. So it was well that I had some +one to look out for me. I know that if it had not been for Otoo, I +should not be here today. + +Of numerous instances, let me give one. I had had some experience in +blackbirding before I went pearling in the Paumotus. Otoo and I were +on the beach in Samoa--we really were on the beach and hard +aground--when my chance came to go as recruiter on a blackbird brig. +Otoo signed on before the mast; and for the next half-dozen years, in +as many ships, we knocked about the wildest portions of Melanesia. +Otoo saw to it that he always pulled stroke-oar in my boat. Our custom +in recruiting labor was to land the recruiter on the beach. The +covering boat always lay on its oars several hundred feet off shore, +while the recruiter's boat, also lying on its oars, kept afloat on the +edge of the beach. When I landed with my trade goods, leaving my +steering sweep apeak, Otoo left his stroke position and came into the +stern sheets, where a Winchester lay ready to hand under a flap of +canvas. The boat's crew was also armed, the Sniders concealed under +canvas flaps that ran the length of the gunwales. + +While I was busy arguing and persuading the woolly-headed cannibals to +come and labor on the Queensland plantations Otoo kept watch. And +often and often his low voice warned me of suspicious actions and +impending treachery. Sometimes it was the quick shot from his rifle, +knocking a nigger over, that was the first warning I received. And in +my rush to the boat his hand was always there to jerk me flying +aboard. Once, I remember, on SANTA ANNA, the boat grounded just as the +trouble began. The covering boat was dashing to our assistance, but +the several score of savages would have wiped us out before it +arrived. Otoo took a flying leap ashore, dug both hands into the trade +goods, and scattered tobacco, beads, tomahawks, knives, and calicoes +in all directions. + +This was too much for the woolly-heads. While they scrambled for the +treasures, the boat was shoved clear, and we were aboard and forty +feet away. And I got thirty recruits off that very beach in the next +four hours. + +The particular instance I have in mind was on Malaita, the most savage +island in the easterly Solomons. The natives had been remarkably +friendly; and how were we to know that the whole village had been +taking up a collection for over two years with which to buy a white +man's head? The beggars are all head-hunters, and they especially +esteem a white man's head. The fellow who captured the head would +receive the whole collection. As I say, they appeared very friendly; +and on this day I was fully a hundred yards down the beach from the +boat. Otoo had cautioned me; and, as usual when I did not heed him, I +came to grief. + +The first I knew, a cloud of spears sailed out of the mangrove swamp +at me. At least a dozen were sticking into me. I started to run, but +tripped over one that was fast in my calf, and went down. The +woolly-heads made a run for me, each with a long-handled, fantail +tomahawk with which to hack off my head. They were so eager for the +prize that they got in one another's way. In the confusion, I avoided +several hacks by throwing myself right and left on the sand. + +Then Otoo arrived--Otoo the manhandler. In some way he had got hold of +a heavy war club, and at close quarters it was a far more efficient +weapon than a rifle. He was right in the thick of them, so that they +could not spear him, while their tomahawks seemed worse than useless. +He was fighting for me, and he was in a true Berserker rage. The way +he handled that club was amazing. + +Their skulls squashed like overripe oranges. It was not until he had +driven them back, picked me up in his arms, and started to run, that +he received his first wounds. He arrived in the boat with four spear +thrusts, got his Winchester, and with it got a man for every shot. +Then we pulled aboard the schooner, and doctored up. + +Seventeen years we were together. He made me. I should today be a +supercargo, a recruiter, or a memory, if it had not been for him. + +"You spend your money, and you go out and get more," he said one day. +"It is easy to get money now. But when you get old, your money will be +spent, and you will not be able to go out and get more. I know, +master. I have studied the way of white men. On the beaches are many +old men who were young once, and who could get money just like you. +Now they are old, and they have nothing, and they wait about for the +young men like you to come ashore and buy drinks for them. + +"The black boy is a slave on the plantations. He gets twenty dollars a +year. He works hard. The overseer does not work hard. He rides a horse +and watches the black boy work. He gets twelve hundred dollars a year. +I am a sailor on the schooner. I get fifteen dollars a month. That is +because I am a good sailor. I work hard. The captain has a double +awning, and drinks beer out of long bottles. I have never seen him +haul a rope or pull an oar. He gets one hundred and fifty dollars a +month. I am a sailor. He is a navigator. Master, I think it would be +very good for you to know navigation." + +Otoo spurred me on to it. He sailed with me as second mate on my first +schooner, and he was far prouder of my command than I was myself. +Later on it was: + +"The captain is well paid, master; but the ship is in his keeping, and +he is never free from the burden. It is the owner who is better +paid--the owner who sits ashore with many servants and turns his money +over." + +"True, but a schooner costs five thousand dollars--an old schooner at +that," I objected. "I should be an old man before I saved five +thousand dollars." + +"There be short ways for white men to make money," he went on, +pointing ashore at the cocoanut-fringed beach. + +We were in the Solomons at the time, picking up a cargo of ivory nuts +along the east coast of Guadalcanar. + +"Between this river mouth and the next it is two miles," he said. + +"The flat land runs far back. It is worth nothing now. Next year--who +knows?--or the year after, men will pay much money for that land. The +anchorage is good. Big steamers can lie close up. You can buy the land +four miles deep from the old chief for ten thousand sticks of tobacco, +ten bottles of square-face, and a Snider, which will cost you, maybe, +one hundred dollars. Then you place the deed with the commissioner; +and the next year, or the year after, you sell and become the owner of +a ship." + +I followed his lead, and his words came true, though in three years, +instead of two. Next came the grasslands deal on Guadalcanar--twenty +thousand acres, on a governmental nine hundred and ninety-nine years' +lease at a nominal sum. I owned the lease for precisely ninety days, +when I sold it to a company for half a fortune. Always it was Otoo who +looked ahead and saw the opportunity. He was responsible for the +salving of the Doncaster--bought in at auction for a hundred pounds, +and clearing three thousand after every expense was paid. He led me +into the Savaii plantation and the cocoa venture on Upolu. + +We did not go seafaring so much as in the old days. I was too well +off. I married, and my standard of living rose; but Otoo remained the +same old-time Otoo, moving about the house or trailing through the +office, his wooden pipe in his mouth, a shilling undershirt on his +back, and a four-shilling lava-lava about his loins. I could not get +him to spend money. There was no way of repaying him except with love, +and God knows he got that in full measure from all of us. The children +worshipped him; and if he had been spoilable, my wife would surely +have been his undoing. + +The children! He really was the one who showed them the way of their +feet in the world practical. He began by teaching them to walk. He sat +up with them when they were sick. One by one, when they were scarcely +toddlers, he took them down to the lagoon, and made them into +amphibians. He taught them more than I ever knew of the habits of fish +and the ways of catching them. In the bush it was the same thing. At +seven, Tom knew more woodcraft than I ever dreamed existed. At six, +Mary went over the Sliding Rock without a quiver, and I have seen +strong men balk at that feat. And when Frank had just turned six he +could bring up shillings from the bottom in three fathoms. + +"My people in Bora Bora do not like heathen--they are all Christians; +and I do not like Bora Bora Christians," he said one day, when I, with +the idea of getting him to spend some of the money that was rightfully +his, had been trying to persuade him to make a visit to his own island +in one of our schooners--a special voyage which I had hoped to make a +record breaker in the matter of prodigal expense. + +I say one of OUR schooners, though legally at the time they belonged +to me. I struggled long with him to enter into partnership. + +"We have been partners from the day the Petite Jeanne went down," he +said at last. "But if your heart so wishes, then shall we become +partners by the law. I have no work to do, yet are my expenses large. +I drink and eat and smoke in plenty--it costs much, I know. I do not +pay for the playing of billiards, for I play on your table; but still +the money goes. Fishing on the reef is only a rich man's pleasure. It +is shocking, the cost of hooks and cotton line. Yes; it is necessary +that we be partners by the law. I need the money. I shall get it from +the head clerk in the office." + +So the papers were made out and recorded. A year later I was compelled +to complain. + +"Charley," said I, "you are a wicked old fraud, a miserly skinflint, a +miserable land crab. Behold, your share for the year in all our +partnership has been thousands of dollars. The head clerk has given me +this paper. It says that in the year you have drawn just eighty-seven +dollars and twenty cents." + +"Is there any owing me?" he asked anxiously. + +"I tell you thousands and thousands," I answered. + +His face brightened, as with an immense relief. + +"It is well," he said. "See that the head clerk keeps good account of +it. When I want it, I shall want it, and there must not be a cent +missing. + +"If there is," he added fiercely, after a pause, "it must come out of +the clerk's wages." + +And all the time, as I afterwards learned, his will, drawn up by +Carruthers, and making me sole beneficiary, lay in the American +consul's safe. + +But the end came, as the end must come to all human associations. + +It occurred in the Solomons, where our wildest work had been done in +the wild young days, and where we were once more--principally on a +holiday, incidentally to look after our holdings on Florida Island and +to look over the pearling possibilities of the Mboli Pass. We were +lying at Savo, having run in to trade for curios. + +Now, Savo is alive with sharks. The custom of the woolly-heads of +burying their dead in the sea did not tend to discourage the sharks +from making the adjacent waters a hangout. It was my luck to be coming +aboard in a tiny, overloaded, native canoe, when the thing capsized. +There were four woolly-heads and myself in it, or rather, hanging to +it. The schooner was a hundred yards away. + +I was just hailing for a boat when one of the woolly-heads began to +scream. Holding on to the end of the canoe, both he and that portion +of the canoe were dragged under several times. Then he loosed his +clutch and disappeared. A shark had got him. + +The three remaining niggers tried to climb out of the water upon the +bottom of the canoe. I yelled and cursed and struck at the nearest +with my fist, but it was no use. They were in a blind funk. The canoe +could barely have supported one of them. Under the three it upended +and rolled sidewise, throwing them back into the water. + +I abandoned the canoe and started to swim toward the schooner, +expecting to be picked up by the boat before I got there. One of the +niggers elected to come with me, and we swam along silently, side by +side, now and again putting our faces into the water and peering about +for sharks. The screams of the man who stayed by the canoe informed us +that he was taken. I was peering into the water when I saw a big shark +pass directly beneath me. He was fully sixteen feet in length. I saw +the whole thing. He got the woolly-head by the middle, and away he +went, the poor devil, head, shoulders, and arms out of the water all +the time, screeching in a heart-rending way. He was carried along in +this fashion for several hundred feet, when he was dragged beneath the +surface. + +I swam doggedly on, hoping that that was the last unattached shark. +But there was another. Whether it was one that had attacked the +natives earlier, or whether it was one that had made a good meal +elsewhere, I do not know. At any rate, he was not in such haste as the +others. I could not swim so rapidly now, for a large part of my effort +was devoted to keeping track of him. I was watching him when he made +his first attack. By good luck I got both hands on his nose, and, +though his momentum nearly shoved me under, I managed to keep him off. +He veered clear, and began circling about again. A second time I +escaped him by the same manoeuvre. The third rush was a miss on both +sides. He sheered at the moment my hands should have landed on his +nose, but his sandpaper hide (I had on a sleeveless undershirt) +scraped the skin off one arm from elbow to shoulder. + +By this time I was played out, and gave up hope. The schooner was +still two hundred feet away. My face was in the water, and I was +watching him manoeuvre for another attempt, when I saw a brown body +pass between us. It was Otoo. + +"Swim for the schooner, master!" he said. And he spoke gayly, as +though the affair was a mere lark. "I know sharks. The shark is my +brother." + +I obeyed, swimming slowly on, while Otoo swam about me, keeping always +between me and the shark, foiling his rushes and encouraging me. + +"The davit tackle carried away, and they are rigging the falls," he +explained, a minute or so later, and then went under to head off +another attack. + +By the time the schooner was thirty feet away I was about done for. I +could scarcely move. They were heaving lines at us from on board, but +they continually fell short. The shark, finding that it was receiving +no hurt, had become bolder. Several times it nearly got me, but each +time Otoo was there just the moment before it was too late. Of course, +Otoo could have saved himself any time. But he stuck by me. + +"Good-by, Charley! I'm finished!" I just managed to gasp. + +I knew that the end had come, and that the next moment I should throw +up my hands and go down. + +But Otoo laughed in my face, saying: + +"I will show you a new trick. I will make that shark feel sick!" + +He dropped in behind me, where the shark was preparing to come at me. + +"A little more to the left!" he next called out. "There is a line +there on the water. To the left, master--to the left!" + +I changed my course and struck out blindly. I was by that time barely +conscious. As my hand closed on the line I heard an exclamation from +on board. I turned and looked. There was no sign of Otoo. The next +instant he broke surface. Both hands were off at the wrist, the stumps +spouting blood. + +"Otoo!" he called softly. And I could see in his gaze the love that +thrilled in his voice. + +Then, and then only, at the very last of all our years, he called me +by that name. + +"Good-by, Otoo!" he called. + +Then he was dragged under, and I was hauled aboard, where I fainted in +the captain's arms. + +And so passed Otoo, who saved me and made me a man, and who saved me +in the end. We met in the maw of a hurricane, and parted in the maw of +a shark, with seventeen intervening years of comradeship, the like of +which I dare to assert has never befallen two men, the one brown and +the other white. If Jehovah be from His high place watching every +sparrow fall, not least in His kingdom shall be Otoo, the one heathen +of Bora Bora. + + + +THE TERRIBLE SOLOMONS + +There is no gainsaying that the Solomons are a hard-bitten bunch of +islands. On the other hand, there are worse places in the world. But +to the new chum who has no constitutional understanding of men and +life in the rough, the Solomons may indeed prove terrible. + +It is true that fever and dysentery are perpetually on the walk-about, +that loathsome skin diseases abound, that the air is saturated with a +poison that bites into every pore, cut, or abrasion and plants +malignant ulcers, and that many strong men who escape dying there +return as wrecks to their own countries. It is also true that the +natives of the Solomons are a wild lot, with a hearty appetite for +human flesh and a fad for collecting human heads. Their highest +instinct of sportsmanship is to catch a man with his back turned and +to smite him a cunning blow with a tomahawk that severs the spinal +column at the base of the brain. It is equally true that on some +islands, such as Malaita, the profit and loss account of social +intercourse is calculated in homicides. Heads are a medium of +exchange, and white heads are extremely valuable. Very often a dozen +villages make a jack-pot, which they fatten moon by moon, against the +time when some brave warrior presents a white man's head, fresh and +gory, and claims the pot. + +All the foregoing is quite true, and yet there are white men who have +lived in the Solomons a score of years and who feel homesick when they +go away from them. A man needs only to be careful--and lucky--to live +a long time in the Solomons; but he must also be of the right sort. He +must have the hallmark of the inevitable white man stamped upon his +soul. He must be inevitable. He must have a certain grand carelessness +of odds, a certain colossal self-satisfaction, and a racial egotism +that convinces him that one white is better than a thousand niggers +every day in the week, and that on Sunday he is able to clean out two +thousand niggers. For such are the things that have made the white man +inevitable. Oh, and one other thing--the white man who wishes to be +inevitable, must not merely despise the lesser breeds and think a lot +of himself; he must also fail to be too long on imagination. He must +not understand too well the instincts, customs, and mental processes +of the blacks, the yellows, and the browns; for it is not in such +fashion that the white race has tramped its royal road around the +world. + +Bertie Arkwright was not inevitable. He was too sensitive, too finely +strung, and he possessed too much imagination. The world was too much +with him. He projected himself too quiveringly into his environment. +Therefore, the last place in the world for him to come was the +Solomons. He did not come, expecting to stay. A five weeks' stop-over +between steamers, he decided, would satisfy the call of the primitive +he felt thrumming the strings of his being. At least, so he told the +lady tourists on the MAKEMBO, though in different terms; and they +worshipped him as a hero, for they were lady tourists and they would +know only the safety of the steamer's deck as she threaded her way +through the Solomons. + +There was another man on board, of whom the ladies took no notice. He +was a little shriveled wisp of a man, with a withered skin the color +of mahogany. His name on the passenger list does not matter, but his +other name, Captain Malu, was a name for niggers to conjure with, and +to scare naughty pickaninnies to righteousness from New Hanover to the +New Hebrides. He had farmed savages and savagery, and from fever and +hardship, the crack of Sniders and the lash of the overseers, had +wrested five millions of money in the form of bche-de-mer, +sandalwood, pearl-shell and turtle-shell, ivory nuts and copra, +grasslands, trading stations, and plantations. Captain Malu's little +finger, which was broken, had more inevitableness in it than Bertie +Arkwright's whole carcass. But then, the lady tourists had nothing by +which to judge save appearances, and Bertie certainly was a +fine-looking man. + +Bertie talked with Captain Malu in the smoking room, confiding to him +his intention of seeing life red and bleeding in the Solomons. Captain +Malu agreed that the intention was ambitious and honorable. It was not +until several days later that he became interested in Bertie, when +that young adventurer insisted on showing him an automatic 44-caliber +pistol. Bertie explained the mechanism and demonstrated by slipping a +loaded magazine up the hollow butt. + +"It is so simple," he said. He shot the outer barrel back along the +inner one. "That loads it and cocks it, you see. And then all I have +to do is pull the trigger, eight times, as fast as I can quiver my +finger. See that safety clutch. That's what I like about it. It is +safe. It is positively fool-proof." He slipped out the magazine. "You +see how safe it is." + +As he held it in his hand, the muzzle came in line with Captain Malu's +stomach. Captain Malu's blue eyes looked at it unswervingly. + +"Would you mind pointing it in some other direction?" he asked. + +"It's perfectly safe," Bertie assured him. "I withdrew the magazine. +It's not loaded now, you know." + +"A gun is always loaded." + +"But this one isn't." + +"Turn it away just the same." + +Captain Malu's voice was flat and metallic and low, but his eyes never +left the muzzle until the line of it was drawn past him and away from +him. + +"I'll bet a fiver it isn't loaded," Bertie proposed warmly. + +The other shook his head. + +"Then I'll show you." + +Bertie started to put the muzzle to his own temple with the evident +intention of pulling the trigger. + +"Just a second," Captain Malu said quietly, reaching out his hand. +"Let me look at it." + +He pointed it seaward and pulled the trigger. A heavy explosion +followed, instantaneous with the sharp click of the mechanism that +flipped a hot and smoking cartridge sidewise along the deck. + +Bertie's jaw dropped in amazement. + +"I slipped the barrel back once, didn't I?" he explained. "It was +silly of me, I must say." + +He giggled flabbily, and sat down in a steamer chair. The blood had +ebbed from his face, exposing dark circles under his eyes. His hands +were trembling and unable to guide the shaking cigarette to his lips. +The world was too much with him, and he saw himself with dripping +brains prone upon the deck. + +"Really," he said, ". . . really." + +"It's a pretty weapon," said Captain Malu, returning the automatic to +him. + +The Commissioner was on board the Makembo, returning from Sydney, and +by his permission a stop was made at Ugi to land a missionary. And at +Ugi lay the ketch ARLA, Captain Hansen, skipper. Now the Arla was one +of many vessels owned by Captain Malu, and it was at his suggestion +and by his invitation that Bertie went aboard the Arla as guest for a +four days' recruiting cruise on the coast of Malaita. Thereafter the +ARLA would drop him at Reminge Plantation (also owned by Captain +Malu), where Bertie could remain for a week, and then be sent over to +Tulagi, the seat of government, where he would become the +Commissioner's guest. Captain Malu was responsible for two other +suggestions, which given, he disappears from this narrative. One was +to Captain Hansen, the other to Mr. Harriwell, manager of Reminge +Plantation. Both suggestions were similar in tenor, namely, to give +Mr. Bertram Arkwright an insight into the rawness and redness of life +in the Solomons. Also, it is whispered that Captain Malu mentioned +that a case of Scotch would be coincidental with any particularly +gorgeous insight Mr. Arkwright might receive. . . . . . . . . . . . . + +"Yes, Swartz always was too pig-headed. You see, he took four of his +boat's crew to Tulagi to be flogged--officially, you know--then +started back with them in the whaleboat. It was pretty squally, and +the boat capsized just outside. Swartz was the only one drowned. Of +course, it was an accident." + +"Was it? Really?" Bertie asked, only half-interested, staring hard at +the black man at the wheel. + +Ugi had dropped astern, and the ARLA was sliding along through a +summer sea toward the wooded ranges of Malaita. The helmsman who so +attracted Bertie's eyes sported a ten penny nail, stuck skewerwise +through his nose. About his neck was a string of pants buttons. Thrust +through holes in his ears were a can opener, the broken handle of a +toothbrush, a clay pipe, the brass wheel of an alarm clock, and +several Winchester rifle cartridges. + +On his chest, suspended from around his neck hung the half of a china +plate. Some forty similarly appareled blacks lay about the deck, +fifteen of which were boat's crew, the remainder being fresh labor +recruits. + +"Of course it was an accident," spoke up the ARLA'S mate, Jacobs, a +slender, dark-eyed man who looked more a professor than a sailor. +"Johnny Bedip nearly had the same kind of accident. He was bringing +back several from a flogging, when they capsized him. But he knew how +to swim as well as they, and two of them were drowned. He used a boat +stretcher and a revolver. Of course it was an accident." + +"Quite common, them accidents," remarked the skipper. "You see that +man at the wheel, Mr. Arkwright? He's a man eater. Six months ago, he +and the rest of the boat's crew drowned the then captain of the ARLA. +They did it on deck, sir, right aft there by the mizzen-traveler." + +"The deck was in a shocking state," said the mate. + +"Do I understand--?" Bertie began. + +"Yes, just that," said Captain Hansen. "It was an accidental +drowning." + +"But on deck--?" + +"Just so. I don't mind telling you, in confidence, of course, that +they used an axe." + +"This present crew of yours?" + +Captain Hansen nodded. + +"The other skipper always was too careless," explained the mate. He +but just turned his back, when they let him have it." + +"We haven't any show down here," was the skipper's complaint. "The +government protects a nigger against a white every time. You can't +shoot first. You've got to give the nigger first shot, or else the +government calls it murder and you go to Fiji. That's why there's so +many drowning accidents." + +Dinner was called, and Bertie and the skipper went below, leaving the +mate to watch on deck. + +"Keep an eye out for that black devil, Auiki," was the skipper's +parting caution. "I haven't liked his looks for several days." + +"Right O," said the mate. + +Dinner was part way along, and the skipper was in the middle of his +story of the cutting out of the Scottish Chiefs. + +"Yes," he was saying, "she was the finest vessel on the coast. But +when she missed stays, and before ever she hit the reef, the canoes +started for her. There were five white men, a crew of twenty Santa +Cruz boys and Samoans, and only the supercargo escaped. Besides, there +were sixty recruits. They were all kai-kai'd. Kai-kai?--oh, I beg your +pardon. I mean they were eaten. Then there was the James Edwards, a +dandy-rigged--" + +But at that moment there was a sharp oath from the mate on deck and a +chorus of savage cries. A revolver went off three times, and then was +heard a loud splash. Captain Hansen had sprung up the companionway on +the instant, and Bertie's eyes had been fascinated by a glimpse of him +drawing his revolver as he sprang. + +Bertie went up more circumspectly, hesitating before he put his head +above the companionway slide. But nothing happened. The mate was +shaking with excitement, his revolver in his hand. Once he startled, +and half-jumped around, as if danger threatened his back. + +"One of the natives fell overboard," he was saying, in a queer tense +voice. "He couldn't swim." + +"Who was it?" the skipper demanded. + +"Auiki," was the answer. + +"But I say, you know, I heard shots," Bertie said, in trembling +eagerness, for he scented adventure, and adventure that was happily +over with. + +The mate whirled upon him, snarling: + +"It's a damned lie. There ain't been a shot fired. The nigger fell +overboard." + +Captain Hansen regarded Bertie with unblinking, lack-luster eyes. + +"I--I thought--" Bertie was beginning. + +"Shots?" said Captain Hansen, dreamily. "Shots? Did you hear any +shots, Mr. Jacobs?" + +"Not a shot," replied Mr. Jacobs. + +The skipper looked at his guest triumphantly, and said: + +"Evidently an accident. Let us go down, Mr. Arkwright, and finish +dinner." + +Bertie slept that night in the captain's cabin, a tiny stateroom off +the main cabin. The for'ard bulkhead was decorated with a stand of +rifles. Over the bunk were three more rifles. Under the bunk was a big +drawer, which, when he pulled it out, he found filled with ammunition, +dynamite, and several boxes of detonators. He elected to take the +settee on the opposite side. Lying conspicuously on the small table, +was the Arla's log. Bertie did not know that it had been especially +prepared for the occasion by Captain Malu, and he read therein how on +September 21, two boat's crew had fallen overboard and been drowned. +Bertie read between the lines and knew better. He read how the Arla's +whale boat had been bushwhacked at Su'u and had lost three men; of how +the skipper discovered the cook stewing human flesh on the galley +fire--flesh purchased by the boat's crew ashore in Fui; of how an +accidental discharge of dynamite, while signaling, had killed another +boat's crew; of night attacks; ports fled from between the dawns; +attacks by bushmen in mangrove swamps and by fleets of salt-water men +in the larger passages. One item that occurred with monotonous +frequency was death by dysentery. He noticed with alarm that two white +men had so died--guests, like himself, on the Arla. + +"I say, you know," Bertie said next day to Captain Hansen. "I've been +glancing through your log." + +The skipper displayed quick vexation that the log had been left lying +about. + +"And all that dysentery, you know, that's all rot, just like the +accidental drownings," Bertie continued. "What does dysentery really +stand for?" + +The skipper openly admired his guest's acumen, stiffened himself to +make indignant denial, then gracefully surrendered. + +"You see, it's like this, Mr. Arkwright. These islands have got a bad +enough name as it is. It's getting harder every day to sign on white +men. Suppose a man is killed. The company has to pay through the nose +for another man to take the job. But if the man merely dies of +sickness, it's all right. The new chums don't mind disease. What they +draw the line at is being murdered. I thought the skipper of the Arla +had died of dysentery when I took his billet. Then it was too late. +I'd signed the contract." + +"Besides," said Mr. Jacobs, "there's altogether too many accidental +drownings anyway. It don't look right. It's the fault of the +government. A white man hasn't a chance to defend himself from the +niggers." + +"Yes, look at the Princess and that Yankee mate," the skipper took up +the tale. "She carried five white men besides a government agent. The +captain, the agent, and the supercargo were ashore in the two boats. +They were killed to the last man. The mate and boson, with about +fifteen of the crew--Samoans and Tongans--were on board. A crowd of +niggers came off from shore. First thing the mate knew, the boson and +the crew were killed in the first rush. The mate grabbed three +cartridge belts and two Winchesters and skinned up to the cross-trees. +He was the sole survivor, and you can't blame him for being mad. He +pumped one rifle till it got so hot he couldn't hold it, then he +pumped the other. The deck was black with niggers. He cleaned them +out. He dropped them as they went over the rail, and he dropped them +as fast as they picked up their paddles. Then they jumped into the +water and started to swim for it, and being mad, he got half a dozen +more. And what did he get for it?" + +"Seven years in Fiji," snapped the mate. + +"The government said he wasn't justified in shooting after they'd +taken to the water," the skipper explained. + +"And that's why they die of dysentery nowadays," the mate added. + +"Just fancy," said Bertie, as he felt a longing for the cruise to be +over. + +Later on in the day he interviewed the black who had been pointed out +to him as a cannibal. This fellow's name was Sumasai. He had spent +three years on a Queensland plantation. He had been to Samoa, and +Fiji, and Sydney; and as a boat's crew had been on recruiting +schooners through New Britain, New Ireland, New Guinea, and the +Admiralties. Also, he was a wag, and he had taken a line on his +skipper's conduct. Yes, he had eaten many men. How many? He could not +remember the tally. Yes, white men, too; they were very good, unless +they were sick. He had once eaten a sick one. + +"My word!" he cried, at the recollection. "Me sick plenty along him. +My belly walk about too much." + +Bertie shuddered, and asked about heads. Yes, Sumasai had several +hidden ashore, in good condition, sun-dried, and smoke-cured. One was +of the captain of a schooner. It had long whiskers. He would sell it +for two quid. Black men's heads he would sell for one quid. He had +some pickaninny heads, in poor condition, that he would let go for ten +bob. + +Five minutes afterward, Bertie found himself sitting on the +companionway-slide alongside a black with a horrible skin disease. He +sheered off, and on inquiry was told that it was leprosy. He hurried +below and washed himself with antiseptic soap. He took many antiseptic +washes in the course of the day, for every native on board was +afflicted with malignant ulcers of one sort or another. + +As the Arla drew in to an anchorage in the midst of mangrove swamps, a +double row of barbed wire was stretched around above her rail. That +looked like business, and when Bertie saw the shore canoes alongside, +armed with spears, bows and arrows, and Sniders, he wished more +earnestly than ever that the cruise was over. + +That evening the natives were slow in leaving the ship at sundown. A +number of them checked the mate when he ordered them ashore. "Never +mind, I'll fix them," said Captain Hansen, diving below. + +When he came back, he showed Bertie a stick of dynamite attached to a +fish hook. Now it happens that a paper-wrapped bottle of chlorodyne +with a piece of harmless fuse projecting can fool anybody. It fooled +Bertie, and it fooled the natives. When Captain Hansen lighted the +fuse and hooked the fish hook into the tail end of a native's loin +cloth, that native was smitten with so an ardent a desire for the +shore that he forgot to shed the loin cloth. He started for'ard, the +fuse sizzling and spluttering at his rear, the natives in his path +taking headers over the barbed wire at every jump. Bertie was +horror-stricken. So was Captain Hansen. He had forgotten his +twenty-five recruits, on each of which he had paid thirty shillings +advance. They went over the side along with the shore-dwelling folk +and followed by him who trailed the sizzling chlorodyne bottle. + +Bertie did not see the bottle go off; but the mate opportunely +discharging a stick of real dynamite aft where it would harm nobody, +Bertie would have sworn in any admiralty court to a nigger blown to +flinders. The flight of the twenty-five recruits had actually cost the +Arla forty pounds, and, since they had taken to the bush, there was no +hope of recovering them. The skipper and his mate proceeded to drown +their sorrow in cold tea. + +The cold tea was in whiskey bottles, so Bertie did not know it was +cold tea they were mopping up. All he knew was that the two men got +very drunk and argued eloquently and at length as to whether the +exploded nigger should be reported as a case of dysentery or as an +accidental drowning. When they snored off to sleep, he was the only +white man left, and he kept a perilous watch till dawn, in fear of an +attack from shore and an uprising of the crew. + +Three more days the Arla spent on the coast, and three more nights the +skipper and the mate drank overfondly of cold tea, leaving Bertie to +keep the watch. They knew he could be depended upon, while he was +equally certain that if he lived, he would report their drunken +conduct to Captain Malu. Then the Arla dropped anchor at Reminge +Plantation, on Guadalcanar, and Bertie landed on the beach with a sigh +of relief and shook hands with the manager. Mr. Harriwell was ready +for him. + +"Now you mustn't be alarmed if some of our fellows seem downcast," Mr. +Harriwell said, having drawn him aside in confidence. "There's been +talk of an outbreak, and two or three suspicious signs I'm willing to +admit, but personally I think it's all poppycock." + +"How--how many blacks have you on the plantation?" Bertie asked, with +a sinking heart. + +"We're working four hundred just now," replied Mr. Harriwell, +cheerfully; "but the three of us, with you, of course, and the skipper +and mate of the Arla, can handle them all right." + +Bertie turned to meet one McTavish, the storekeeper, who scarcely +acknowledged the introduction, such was his eagerness to present his +resignation. + +"It being that I'm a married man, Mr. Harriwell, I can't very well +afford to remain on longer. Trouble is working up, as plain as the +nose on your face. The niggers are going to break out, and there'll be +another Hohono horror here." + +"What's a Hohono horror?" Bertie asked, after the storekeeper had been +persuaded to remain until the end of the month. + +"Oh, he means Hohono Plantation, on Ysabel," said the manager. "The +niggers killed the five white men ashore, captured the schooner, +killed the captain and mate, and escaped in a body to Malaita. But I +always said they were careless on Hohono. They won't catch us napping +here. Come along, Mr. Arkwright, and see our view from the veranda." + +Bertie was too busy wondering how he could get away to Tulagi to the +Commissioner's house, to see much of the view. He was still wondering, +when a rifle exploded very near to him, behind his back. At the same +moment his arm was nearly dislocated, so eagerly did Mr. Harriwell +drag him indoors. + +"I say, old man, that was a close shave," said the manager, pawing him +over to see if he had been hit. "I can't tell you how sorry I am. But +it was broad daylight, and I never dreamed." + +Bertie was beginning to turn pale. + +"They got the other manager that way," McTavish vouchsafed. "And a +dashed fine chap he was. Blew his brains out all over the veranda. You +noticed that dark stain there between the steps and the door?" + +Bertie was ripe for the cocktail which Mr. Harriwell pitched in and +compounded for him; but before he could drink it, a man in riding +trousers and puttees entered. + +"What's the matter now?" the manager asked, after one look at the +newcomer's face. "Is the river up again?" + +"River be blowed--it's the niggers. Stepped out of the cane grass, not +a dozen feet away, and whopped at me. It was a Snider, and he shot +from the hip. Now what I want to know is where'd he get that +Snider?--Oh, I beg pardon. Glad to know you, Mr. Arkwright." + +"Mr. Brown is my assistant," explained Mr. Harriwell. "And now let's +have that drink." + +"But where'd he get that Snider?" Mr. Brown insisted. "I always +objected to keeping those guns on the premises." + +"They're still there," Mr. Harriwell said, with a show of heat. + +Mr. Brown smiled incredulously. + +"Come along and see," said the manager. + +Bertie joined the procession into the office, where Mr. Harriwell +pointed triumphantly at a big packing case in a dusty corner. + +"Well, then where did the beggar get that Snider?" harped Mr. Brown. + +But just then McTavish lifted the packing case. The manager started, +then tore off the lid. The case was empty. They gazed at one another +in horrified silence. Harriwell drooped wearily. + +Then McVeigh cursed. + +"What I contended all along--the house-boys are not to be trusted." + +"It does look serious," Harriwell admitted, "but we'll come through it +all right. What the sanguinary niggers need is a shaking up. Will you +gentlemen please bring your rifles to dinner, and will you, Mr. Brown, +kindly prepare forty or fifty sticks of dynamite. Make the fuses good +and short. We'll give them a lesson. And now, gentlemen, dinner is +served." + +One thing that Bertie detested was rice and curry, so it happened that +he alone partook of an inviting omelet. He had quite finished his +plate, when Harriwell helped himself to the omelet. One mouthful he +tasted, then spat out vociferously. + +"That's the second time," McTavish announced ominously. + +Harriwell was still hawking and spitting. + +"Second time, what?" Bertie quavered. + +"Poison," was the answer. "That cook will be hanged yet." + +"That's the way the bookkeeper went out at Cape March," Brown spoke +up. "Died horribly. They said on the Jessie that they heard him +screaming three miles away." + +"I'll put the cook in irons," sputtered Harriwell. "Fortunately we +discovered it in time." + +Bertie sat paralyzed. There was no color in his face. He attempted to +speak, but only an inarticulate gurgle resulted. All eyed him +anxiously. + +"Don't say it, don't say it," McTavish cried in a tense voice. + +"Yes, I ate it, plenty of it, a whole plateful!" Bertie cried +explosively, like a diver suddenly regaining breath. + +The awful silence continued half a minute longer, and he read his fate +in their eyes. + +"Maybe it wasn't poison after all," said Harriwell, dismally. + +"Call in the cook," said Brown. + +In came the cook, a grinning black boy, nose-spiked and ear-plugged. + +"Here, you, Wi-wi, what name that?" Harriwell bellowed, pointing +accusingly at the omelet. + +Wi-wi was very naturally frightened and embarrassed. + +"Him good fella kai-kai," he murmured apologetically. + +"Make him eat it," suggested McTavish. "That's a proper test." + +Harriwell filled a spoon with the stuff and jumped for the cook, who +fled in panic. + +"That settles it," was Brown's solemn pronouncement. "He won't eat +it." + +"Mr. Brown, will you please go and put the irons on him?" Harriwell +turned cheerfully to Bertie. "It's all right, old man, the +Commissioner will deal with him, and if you die, depend upon it, he +will be hanged." + +"Don't think the government'll do it," objected McTavish. + +"But gentlemen, gentlemen," Bertie cried. "In the meantime think of +me." + +Harriwell shrugged his shoulders pityingly. + +"Sorry, old man, but it's a native poison, and there are no known +antidotes for native poisons. Try and compose yourself and if--" + +Two sharp reports of a rifle from without, interrupted the discourse, +and Brown, entering, reloaded his rifle and sat down to table. + +"The cook's dead," he said. "Fever. A rather sudden attack." + +"I was just telling Mr. Arkwright that there are no antidotes for +native poisons--" + +"Except gin," said Brown. + +Harriwell called himself an absent-minded idiot and rushed for the gin +bottle. + +"Neat, man, neat," he warned Bertie, who gulped down a tumbler +two-thirds full of the raw spirits, and coughed and choked from the +angry bite of it till the tears ran down his cheeks. + +Harriwell took his pulse and temperature, made a show of looking out +for him, and doubted that the omelet had been poisoned. Brown and +McTavish also doubted; but Bertie discerned an insincere ring in their +voices. His appetite had left him, and he took his own pulse +stealthily under the table. There was no question but what it was +increasing, but he failed to ascribe it to the gin he had taken. +McTavish, rifle in hand, went out on the veranda to reconnoiter. + +"They're massing up at the cook-house," was his report. "And they've +no end of Sniders. My idea is to sneak around on the other side and +take them in flank. Strike the first blow, you know. Will you come +along, Brown?" + +Harriwell ate on steadily, while Bertie discovered that his pulse had +leaped up five beats. Nevertheless, he could not help jumping when the +rifles began to go off. Above the scattering of Sniders could be heard +the pumping of Brown's and McTavish's Winchesters--all against a +background of demoniacal screeching and yelling. + +"They've got them on the run," Harriwell remarked, as voices and +gunshots faded away in the distance. + +Scarcely were Brown and McTavish back at the table when the latter +reconnoitered. + +"They've got dynamite," he said. + +"Then let's charge them with dynamite," Harriwell proposed. + +Thrusting half a dozen sticks each into their pockets and equipping +themselves with lighted cigars, they started for the door. And just +then it happened. They blamed McTavish for it afterward, and he +admitted that the charge had been a trifle excessive. But at any rate +it went off under the house, which lifted up cornerwise and settled +back on its foundations. Half the china on the table was shattered, +while the eight-day clock stopped. Yelling for vengeance, the three +men rushed out into the night, and the bombardment began. + +When they returned, there was no Bertie. He had dragged himself away +to the office, barricaded himself in, and sunk upon the floor in a +gin-soaked nightmare, wherein he died a thousand deaths while the +valorous fight went on around him. In the morning, sick and headachey +from the gin, he crawled out to find the sun still in the sky and God +presumable in heaven, for his hosts were alive and uninjured. + +Harriwell pressed him to stay on longer, but Bertie insisted on +sailing immediately on the Arla for Tulagi, where, until the following +steamer day, he stuck close by the Commissioner's house. There were +lady tourists on the outgoing steamer, and Bertie was again a hero, +while Captain Malu, as usual, passed unnoticed. But Captain Malu sent +back from Sydney two cases of the best Scotch whiskey on the market, +for he was not able to make up his mind as to whether it was Captain +Hansen or Mr Harriwell who had given Bertie Arkwright the more +gorgeous insight into life in the Solomons. + + + +THE INEVITABLE WHITE MAN + +"The black will never understand the white, nor the white the black, +as long as black is black and white is white." + +So said Captain Woodward. We sat in the parlor of Charley Roberts' pub +in Apia, drinking long Abu Hameds compounded and shared with us by the +aforesaid Charley Roberts, who claimed the recipe direct from Stevens, +famous for having invented the Abu Hamed at a time when he was spurred +on by Nile thirst--the Stevens who was responsible for "With Kitchener +to Kartoun," and who passed out at the siege of Ladysmith. + +Captain Woodward, short and squat, elderly, burned by forty years of +tropic sun, and with the most beautiful liquid brown eyes I ever saw +in a man, spoke from a vast experience. The crisscross of scars on his +bald pate bespoke a tomahawk intimacy with the black, and of equal +intimacy was the advertisement, front and rear, on the right side of +his neck, where an arrow had at one time entered and been pulled clean +through. As he explained, he had been in a hurry on that occasion--the +arrow impeded his running--and he felt that he could not take the time +to break off the head and pull out the shaft the way it had come in. +At the present moment he was commander of the SAVAII, the big steamer +that recruited labor from the westward for the German plantations on +Samoa. + +"Half the trouble is the stupidity of the whites," said Roberts, +pausing to take a swig from his glass and to curse the Samoan bar-boy +in affectionate terms. "If the white man would lay himself out a bit +to understand the workings of the black man's mind, most of the messes +would be avoided." + +"I've seen a few who claimed they understood niggers," Captain +Woodward retorted, "and I always took notice that they were the first +to be kai-kai'd (eaten). Look at the missionaries in New Guinea and +the New Hebrides--the martyr isle of Erromanga and all the rest. Look +at the Austrian expedition that was cut to pieces in the Solomons, in +the bush of Guadalcanar. And look at the traders themselves, with a +score of years' experience, making their brag that no nigger would +ever get them, and whose heads to this day are ornamenting the rafters +of the canoe houses. There was old Johnny Simons--twenty-six years on +the raw edges of Melanesia, swore he knew the niggers like a book and +that they'd never do for him, and he passed out at Marovo Lagoon, New +Georgia, had his head sawed off by a black Mary (woman) and an old +nigger with only one leg, having left the other leg in the mouth of a +shark while diving for dynamited fish. There was Billy Watts, horrible +reputation as a nigger killer, a man to scare the devil. I remember +lying at Cape Little, New Ireland you know, when the niggers stole +half a case of trade-tobacco--cost him about three dollars and a half. +In retaliation he turned out, shot six niggers, smashed up their war +canoes and burned two villages. And it was at Cape Little, four years +afterward, that he was jumped along with fifty Buku boys he had with +him fishing bche-de-mer. In five minutes they were all dead, with the +exception of three boys who got away in a canoe. Don't talk to me +about understanding the nigger. The white man's mission is to farm the +world, and it's a big enough job cut out for him. What time has he got +left to understand niggers anyway?" + +"Just so," said Roberts. "And somehow it doesn't seem necessary, after +all, to understand the niggers. In direct proportion to the white +man's stupidity is his success in farming the world--" + +"And putting the fear of God into the nigger's heart," Captain +Woodward blurted out. "Perhaps you're right, Roberts. Perhaps it's his +stupidity that makes him succeed, and surely one phase of his +stupidity is his inability to understand the niggers. But there's one +thing sure, the white has to run the niggers whether he understands +them or not. It's inevitable. It's fate." + +"And of course the white man is inevitable--it's the niggers' fate," +Roberts broke in. "Tell the white man there's pearl shell in some +lagoon infested by ten-thousand howling cannibals, and he'll head +there all by his lonely, with half a dozen kanaka divers and a tin +alarm clock for chronometer, all packed like sardines on a commodious, +five-ton ketch. Whisper that there's a gold strike at the North Pole, +and that same inevitable white-skinned creature will set out at once, +armed with pick and shovel, a side of bacon, and the latest patent +rocker--and what's more, he'll get there. Tip it off to him that +there's diamonds on the red-hot ramparts of hell, and Mr. White Man +will storm the ramparts and set old Satan himself to pick-and-shovel +work. That's what comes of being stupid and inevitable." + +"But I wonder what the black man must think of the--the +inevitableness," I said. + +Captain Woodward broke into quiet laughter. His eyes had a reminiscent +gleam. + +"I'm just wondering what the niggers of Malu thought and still must be +thinking of the one inevitable white man we had on board when we +visited them in the DUCHESS," he explained. + +Roberts mixed three more Abu Hameds. + +"That was twenty years ago. Saxtorph was his name. He was certainly +the most stupid man I ever saw, but he was as inevitable as death. +There was only one thing that chap could do, and that was shoot. I +remember the first time I ran into him--right here in Apia, twenty +years ago. That was before your time, Roberts. I was sleeping at Dutch +Henry's hotel, down where the market is now. Ever heard of him? He +made a tidy stake smuggling arms in to the rebels, sold out his hotel, +and was killed in Sydney just six weeks afterward in a saloon row. + +"But Saxtorph. One night I'd just got to sleep, when a couple of cats +began to sing in the courtyard. It was out of bed and up window, water +jug in hand. But just then I heard the window of the next room go up. +Two shots were fired, and the window was closed. I fail to impress you +with the celerity of the transaction. Ten seconds at the outside. Up +went the window, bang bang went the revolver, and down went the +window. Whoever it was, he had never stopped to see the effect of his +shots. He knew. Do you follow me?--he KNEW. There was no more cat +concert, and in the morning there lay the two offenders, stone dead. +It was marvelous to me. It still is marvelous. First, it was +starlight, and Saxtorph shot without drawing a bead; next, he shot so +rapidly that the two reports were like a double report; and finally, +he knew he had hit his marks without looking to see. + +"Two days afterward he came on board to see me. I was mate, then, on +the Duchess, a whacking big one-hundred-and fifty-ton schooner, a +blackbirder. And let me tell you that blackbirders were blackbirders +in those days. There weren't any government protection for US, either. +It was rough work, give and take, if we were finished, and nothing +said, and we ran niggers from every south sea island they didn't kick +us off from. Well, Saxtorph came on board, John Saxtorph was the name +he gave. He was a sandy little man, hair sandy, complexion sandy, and +eyes sandy, too. Nothing striking about him. His soul was as neutral +as his color scheme. He said he was strapped and wanted to ship on +board. Would go cabin boy, cook, supercargo, or common sailor. Didn't +know anything about any of the billets, but said that he was willing +to learn. I didn't want him, but his shooting had so impressed me that +I took him as common sailor, wages three pounds per month. + +"He was willing to learn all right, I'll say that much. But he was +constitutionally unable to learn anything. He could no more box the +compass than I could mix drinks like Roberts here. And as for +steering, he gave me my first gray hairs. I never dared risk him at +the wheel when we were running in a big sea, while full-and-by and +close-and-by were insoluble mysteries. Couldn't ever tell the +difference between a sheet and a tackle, simply couldn't. The +fore-throat-jig and the jib-jig were all one to him. Tell him to slack +off the mainsheet, and before you know it, he'd drop the peak. He fell +overboard three times, and he couldn't swim. But he was always +cheerful, never seasick, and he was the most willing man I ever knew. +He was an uncommunicative soul. Never talked about himself. His +history, so far as we were concerned, began the day he signed on the +DUCHESS. Where he learned to shoot, the stars alone can tell. He was a +Yankee--that much we knew from the twang in his speech. And that was +all we ever did know. + +"And now we begin to get to the point. We had bad luck in the New +Hebrides, only fourteen boys for five weeks, and we ran up before the +southeast for the Solomons. Malaita, then as now, was good recruiting +ground, and we ran into Malu, on the northwestern corner. There's a +shore reef and an outer reef, and a mighty nervous anchorage; but we +made it all right and fired off our dynamite as a signal to the +niggers to come down and be recruited. In three days we got not a boy. +The niggers came off to us in their canoes by hundreds, but they only +laughed when we showed them beads and calico and hatchets and talked +of the delights of plantation work in Samoa. + +"On the fourth day there came a change. Fifty-odd boys signed on and +were billeted in the main-hold, with the freedom of the deck, of +course. And of course, looking back, this wholesale signing on was +suspicious, but at the time we thought some powerful chief had removed +the ban against recruiting. The morning of the fifth day our two boats +went ashore as usual--one to cover the other, you know, in case of +trouble. And, as usual, the fifty niggers on board were on deck, +loafing, talking, smoking, and sleeping. Saxtorph and myself, along +with four other sailors, were all that were left on board. The two +boats were manned with Gilbert Islanders. In the one were the captain, +the supercargo, and the recruiter. In the other, which was the +covering boat and which lay off shore a hundred yards, was the second +mate. Both boats were well-armed, though trouble was little expected. + +"Four of the sailors, including Saxtorph, were scraping the poop rail. +The fifth sailor, rifle in hand, was standing guard by the water-tank +just for'ard of the mainmast. I was for'ard, putting in the finishing +licks on a new jaw for the fore-gaff. I was just reaching for my pipe +where I had laid it down, when I heard a shot from shore. I +straightened up to look. Something struck me on the back of the head, +partially stunning me and knocking me to the deck. My first thought +was that something had carried away aloft; but even as I went down, +and before I struck the deck, I heard the devil's own tattoo of rifles +from the boats, and twisting sidewise, I caught a glimpse of the +sailor who was standing guard. Two big niggers were holding his arms, +and a third nigger from behind was braining him with a tomahawk. + +"I can see it now, the water-tank, the mainmast, the gang hanging on +to him, the hatchet descending on the back of his head, and all under +the blazing sunlight. I was fascinated by that growing vision of +death. The tomahawk seemed to take a horribly long time to come down. +I saw it land, and the man's legs give under him as he crumpled. The +niggers held him up by sheer strength while he was hacked a couple of +times more. Then I got two more hacks on the head and decided that I +was dead. So did the brute that was hacking me. I was too helpless to +move, and I lay there and watched them removing the sentry's head. I +must say they did it slick enough. They were old hands at the +business. + +"The rifle firing from the boats had ceased, and I made no doubt that +they were finished off and that the end had come to everything. It was +only a matter of moments when they would return for my head. They were +evidently taking the heads from the sailors aft. Heads are valuable on +Malaita, especially white heads. They have the place of honor in the +canoe houses of the salt-water natives. What particular decorative +effect the bushmen get out of them I didn't know, but they prize them +just as much as the salt-water crowd. + +"I had a dim notion of escaping, and I crawled on hands and knees to +the winch, where I managed to drag myself to my feet. From there I +could look aft and see three heads on top the cabin--the heads of +three sailors I had given orders to for months. The niggers saw me +standing, and started for me. I reached for my revolver, and found +they had taken it. I can't say that I was scared. I've been near to +death several times, but it never seemed easier than right then. I was +half-stunned, and nothing seemed to matter. + +"The leading nigger had armed himself with a cleaver from the galley, +and he grimaced like an ape as he prepared to slice me down. But the +slice was never made. He went down on the deck all of a heap, and I +saw the blood gush from his mouth. In a dim way I heard a rifle go off +and continue to go off. Nigger after nigger went down. My senses began +to clear, and I noted that there was never a miss. Every time that the +rifle went off a nigger dropped. I sat down on deck beside the winch +and looked up. Perched in the crosstrees was Saxtorph. How he had +managed it I can't imagine, for he had carried up with him two +Winchesters and I don't know how many bandoliers of ammunition; and he +was now doing the one only thing in this world that he was fitted to +do. + +"I've seen shooting and slaughter, but I never saw anything like that. +I sat by the winch and watched the show. I was weak and faint, and it +seemed to be all a dream. Bang, bang, bang, bang, went his rifle, and +thud, thud, thud, thud, went the niggers to the deck. It was amazing +to see them go down. After their first rush to get me, when about a +dozen had dropped, they seemed paralyzed; but he never left off +pumping his gun. By this time canoes and the two boats arrived from +shore, armed with Sniders, and with Winchesters which they had +captured in the boats. The fusillade they let loose on Saxtorph was +tremendous. Luckily for him the niggers are only good at close range. +They are not used to putting the gun to their shoulders. They wait +until they are right on top of a man, and then they shoot from the +hip. When his rifle got too hot, Saxtorph changed off. That had been +his idea when he carried two rifles up with him. + +"The astounding thing was the rapidity of his fire. Also, he never +made a miss. If ever anything was inevitable, that man was. It was the +swiftness of it that made the slaughter so appalling. The niggers did +not have time to think. When they did manage to think, they went over +the side in a rush, capsizing the canoes of course. Saxtorph never let +up. The water was covered with them, and plump, plump, plump, he +dropped his bullets into them. Not a single miss, and I could hear +distinctly the thud of every bullet as it buried in human flesh. + +"The niggers spread out and headed for the shore, swimming. The water +was carpeted with bobbing heads, and I stood up, as in a dream, and +watched it all--the bobbing heads and the heads that ceased to bob. +Some of the long shots were magnificent. Only one man reached the +beach, but as he stood up to wade ashore, Saxtorph got him. It was +beautiful. And when a couple of niggers ran down to drag him out of +the water, Saxtorph got them, too. + +"I thought everything was over then, when I heard the rifle go off +again. A nigger had come out of the cabin companion on the run for the +rail and gone down in the middle of it. The cabin must have been full +of them. I counted twenty. They came up one at a time and jumped for +the rail. But they never got there. It reminded me of trapshooting. A +black body would pop out of the companion, bang would go Saxtorph's +rifle, and down would go the black body. Of course, those below did +not know what was happening on deck, so they continued to pop out +until the last one was finished off. + +"Saxtorph waited a while to make sure, and then came down on deck. He +and I were all that were left of the DUCHESS'S complement, and I was +pretty well to the bad, while he was helpless now that the shooting +was over. Under my direction he washed out my scalp wounds and sewed +them up. A big drink of whiskey braced me to make an effort to get +out. There was nothing else to do. All the rest were dead. We tried to +get up sail, Saxtorph hoisting and I holding the turn. He was once +more the stupid lubber. He couldn't hoist worth a cent, and when I +fell in a faint, it looked all up with us. + +"When I came to, Saxtorph was sitting helplessly on the rail, waiting +to ask me what he should do. I told him to overhaul the wounded and +see if there were any able to crawl. He gathered together six. One, I +remember, had a broken leg; but Saxtorph said his arms were all right. +I lay in the shade, brushing the flies off and directing operations, +while Saxtorph bossed his hospital gang. I'll be blessed if he didn't +make those poor niggers heave at every rope on the pin-rails before he +found the halyards. One of them let go the rope in the midst of the +hoisting and slipped down to the deck dead; but Saxtorph hammered the +others and made them stick by the job. When the fore and main were up, +I told him to knock the shackle out of the anchor chain and let her +go. I had had myself helped aft to the wheel, where I was going to +make a shift at steering. I can't guess how he did it, but instead of +knocking the shackle out, down went the second anchor, and there we +were doubly moored. + +"In the end he managed to knock both shackles out and raise the +staysail and jib, and the Duchess filled away for the entrance. Our +decks were a spectacle. Dead and dying niggers were everywhere. They +were wedged away some of them in the most inconceivable places. The +cabin was full of them where they had crawled off the deck and cashed +in. I put Saxtorph and his graveyard gang to work heaving them +overside, and over they went, the living and the dead. The sharks had +fat pickings that day. Of course our four murdered sailors went the +same way. Their heads, however, we put in a sack with weights, so that +by no chance should they drift on the beach and fall into the hands of +the niggers. + +"Our five prisoners I decided to use as crew, but they decided +otherwise. They watched their opportunity and went over the side. +Saxtorph got two in mid-air with his revolver, and would have shot the +other three in the water if I hadn't stopped him. I was sick of the +slaughter, you see, and besides, they'd helped work the schooner out. +But it was mercy thrown away, for the sharks got the three of them. + +"I had brain fever or something after we got clear of the land. +Anyway, the DUCHESS lay hove to for three weeks, when I pulled myself +together and we jogged on with her to Sydney. Anyway those niggers of +Malu learned the everlasting lesson that it is not good to monkey with +a white man. In their case, Saxtorph was certainly inevitable." + +Charley Roberts emitted a long whistle and said: + +"Well I should say so. But whatever became of Saxtorph?" + +"He drifted into seal hunting and became a crackerjack. For six years +he was high line of both the Victoria and San Francisco fleets. The +seventh year his schooner was seized in Bering Sea by a Russian +cruiser, and all hands, so the talk went, were slammed into the +Siberian salt mines. At least I've never heard of him since." + +"Farming the world," Roberts muttered. "Farming the world. Well here's +to them. Somebody's got to do it--farm the world, I mean." + +Captain Woodward rubbed the criss-crosses on his bald head. + +"I've done my share of it," he said. "Forty years now. This will be my +last trip. Then I'm going home to stay." + +"I'll wager the wine you don't," Roberts challenged. "You'll die in +the harness, not at home." + +Captain Woodward promptly accepted the bet, but personally I think +Charley Roberts has the best of it. + + + +THE SEED OF McCOY + +The Pyrenees, her iron sides pressed low in the water by her cargo of +wheat, rolled sluggishly, and made it easy for the man who was +climbing aboard from out a tiny outrigger canoe. As his eyes came +level with the rail, so that he could see inboard, it seemed to him +that he saw a dim, almost indiscernible haze. It was more like an +illusion, like a blurring film that had spread abruptly over his eyes. +He felt an inclination to brush it away, and the same instant he +thought that he was growing old and that it was time to send to San +Francisco for a pair of spectacles. + +As he came over the rail he cast a glance aloft at the tall masts, +and, next, at the pumps. They were not working. There seemed nothing +the matter with the big ship, and he wondered why she had hoisted the +signal of distress. He thought of his happy islanders, and hoped it +was not disease. Perhaps the ship was short of water or provisions. He +shook hands with the captain whose gaunt face and care-worn eyes made +no secret of the trouble, whatever it was. At the same moment the +newcomer was aware of a faint, indefinable smell. It seemed like that +of burnt bread, but different. + +He glanced curiously about him. Twenty feet away a weary-faced sailor +was calking the deck. As his eyes lingered on the man, he saw suddenly +arise from under his hands a faint spiral of haze that curled and +twisted and was gone. By now he had reached the deck. His bare feet +were pervaded by a dull warmth that quickly penetrated the thick +calluses. He knew now the nature of the ship's distress. His eyes +roved swiftly forward, where the full crew of weary-faced sailors +regarded him eagerly. The glance from his liquid brown eyes swept over +them like a benediction, soothing them, rapping them about as in the +mantle of a great peace. "How long has she been afire, Captain?" he +asked in a voice so gentle and unperturbed that it was as the cooing +of a dove. + +At first the captain felt the peace and content of it stealing in upon +him; then the consciousness of all that he had gone through and was +going through smote him, and he was resentful. By what right did this +ragged beachcomber, in dungaree trousers and a cotton shirt, suggest +such a thing as peace and content to him and his overwrought, +exhausted soul? The captain did not reason this; it was the +unconscious process of emotion that caused his resentment. + +"Fifteen days," he answered shortly. "Who are you?" + +"My name is McCoy," came the answer in tones that breathed tenderness +and compassion. + +"I mean, are you the pilot?" + +McCoy passed the benediction of his gaze over the tall, +heavy-shouldered man with the haggard, unshaven face who had joined +the captain. + +"I am as much a pilot as anybody," was McCoy's answer. "We are all +pilots here, Captain, and I know every inch of these waters." + +But the captain was impatient. + +"What I want is some of the authorities. I want to talk with them, and +blame quick." + +"Then I'll do just as well." + +Again that insidious suggestion of peace, and his ship a raging +furnace beneath his feet! The captain's eyebrows lifted impatiently +and nervously, and his fist clenched as if he were about to strike a +blow with it. + +"Who in hell are you?" he demanded. + +"I am the chief magistrate," was the reply in a voice that was still +the softest and gentlest imaginable. + +The tall, heavy-shouldered man broke out in a harsh laugh that was +partly amusement, but mostly hysterical. Both he and the captain +regarded McCoy with incredulity and amazement. That this barefooted +beachcomber should possess such high-sounding dignity was +inconceivable. His cotton shirt, unbuttoned, exposed a grizzled chest +and the fact that there was no undershirt beneath. + +A worn straw hat failed to hide the ragged gray hair. Halfway down his +chest descended an untrimmed patriarchal beard. In any slop shop, two +shillings would have outfitted him complete as he stood before them. + +"Any relation to the McCoy of the Bounty?" the captain asked. + +"He was my great-grandfather." + +"Oh," the captain said, then bethought himself. "My name is Davenport, +and this is my first mate, Mr. Konig." + +They shook hands. + +"And now to business." The captain spoke quickly, the urgency of a +great haste pressing his speech. "We've been on fire for over two +weeks. She's ready to break all hell loose any moment. That's why I +held for Pitcairn. I want to beach her, or scuttle her, and save the +hull." + +"Then you made a mistake, Captain," said McCoy. "You should have +slacked away for Mangareva. There's a beautiful beach there, in a +lagoon where the water is like a mill pond." + +"But we're here, ain't we?" the first mate demanded. "That's the +point. We're here, and we've got to do something." + +McCoy shook his head kindly. + +"You can do nothing here. There is no beach. There isn't even +anchorage." + +"Gammon!" said the mate. "Gammon!" he repeated loudly, as the captain +signaled him to be more soft spoken. "You can't tell me that sort of +stuff. Where d'ye keep your own boats, hey--your schooner, or cutter, +or whatever you have? Hey? Answer me that." + +McCoy smiled as gently as he spoke. His smile was a caress, an embrace +that surrounded the tired mate and sought to draw him into the +quietude and rest of McCoy's tranquil soul. + +"We have no schooner or cutter," he replied. "And we carry our canoes +to the top of the cliff." + +"You've got to show me," snorted the mate. "How d'ye get around to the +other islands, heh? Tell me that." + +"We don't get around. As governor of Pitcairn, I sometimes go. When I +was younger, I was away a great deal--sometimes on the trading +schooners, but mostly on the missionary brig. But she's gone now, and +we depend on passing vessels. Sometimes we have had as high as six +calls in one year. At other times, a year, and even longer, has gone +by without one passing ship. Yours is the first in seven months." + +"And you mean to tell me--" the mate began. + +But Captain Davenport interfered. + +"Enough of this. We're losing time. What is to be done, Mr. McCoy?" + +The old man turned his brown eyes, sweet as a woman's, shoreward, and +both captain and mate followed his gaze around from the lonely rock of +Pitcairn to the crew clustering forward and waiting anxiously for the +announcement of a decision. McCoy did not hurry. He thought smoothly +and slowly, step by step, with the certitude of a mind that was never +vexed or outraged by life. + +"The wind is light now," he said finally. "There is a heavy current +setting to the westward." + +"That's what made us fetch to leeward," the captain interrupted, +desiring to vindicate his seamanship. + +"Yes, that is what fetched you to leeward," McCoy went on. "Well, you +can't work up against this current today. And if you did, there is no +beach. Your ship will be a total loss." + +He paused, and captain and mate looked despair at each other. + +"But I will tell you what you can do. The breeze will freshen tonight +around midnight--see those tails of clouds and that thickness to +windward, beyond the point there? That's where she'll come from, out +of the southeast, hard. It is three hundred miles to Mangareva. Square +away for it. There is a beautiful bed for your ship there." + +The mate shook his head. + +"Come in to the cabin, and we'll look at the chart," said the captain. + +McCoy found a stifling, poisonous atmosphere in the pent cabin. Stray +waftures of invisible gases bit his eyes and made them sting. The deck +was hotter, almost unbearably hot to his bare feet. The sweat poured +out of his body. He looked almost with apprehension about him. This +malignant, internal heat was astounding. It was a marvel that the +cabin did not burst into flames. He had a feeling as if of being in a +huge bake oven where the heat might at any moment increase +tremendously and shrivel him up like a blade of grass. + +As he lifted one foot and rubbed the hot sole against the leg of his +trousers, the mate laughed in a savage, snarling fashion. + +"The anteroom of hell," he said. "Hell herself is right down there +under your feet." + +"It's hot!" McCoy cried involuntarily, mopping his face with a bandana +handkerchief. + +"Here's Mangareva," the captain said, bending over the table and +pointing to a black speck in the midst of the white blankness of the +chart. "And here, in between, is another island. Why not run for +that?" + +McCoy did not look at the chart. + +"That's Crescent Island," he answered. "It is uninhabited, and it is +only two or three feet above water. Lagoon, but no entrance. No, +Mangareva is the nearest place for your purpose." + +"Mangareva it is, then," said Captain Davenport, interrupting the +mate's growling objection. "Call the crew aft, Mr. Konig." + +The sailors obeyed, shuffling wearily along the deck and painfully +endeavoring to make haste. Exhaustion was evident in every movement. +The cook came out of his galley to hear, and the cabin boy hung about +near him. + +When Captain Davenport had explained the situation and announced his +intention of running for Mangareva, an uproar broke out. Against a +background of throaty rumbling arose inarticulate cries of rage, with +here and there a distinct curse, or word, or phrase. A shrill Cockney +voice soared and dominated for a moment, crying: "Gawd! After bein' in +ell for fifteen days--an' now e wants us to sail this floatin' ell to +sea again?" + +The captain could not control them, but McCoy's gentle presence seemed +to rebuke and calm them, and the muttering and cursing died away, +until the full crew, save here and there an anxious face directed at +the captain, yearned dumbly toward the green clad peaks and beetling +coast of Pitcairn. + +Soft as a spring zephyr was the voice of McCoy: + +"Captain, I thought I heard some of them say they were starving." + +"Ay," was the answer, "and so we are. I've had a sea biscuit and a +spoonful of salmon in the last two days. We're on whack. You see, when +we discovered the fire, we battened down immediately to suffocate the +fire. And then we found how little food there was in the pantry. But +it was too late. We didn't dare break out the lazarette. Hungry? I'm +just as hungry as they are." + +He spoke to the men again, and again the throat rumbling and cursing +arose, their faces convulsed and animal-like with rage. The second and +third mates had joined the captain, standing behind him at the break +of the poop. Their faces were set and expressionless; they seemed +bored, more than anything else, by this mutiny of the crew. Captain +Davenport glanced questioningly at his first mate, and that person +merely shrugged his shoulders in token of his helplessness. + +"You see," the captain said to McCoy, "you can't compel sailors to +leave the safe land and go to sea on a burning vessel. She has been +their floating coffin for over two weeks now. They are worked out, and +starved out, and they've got enough of her. We'll beat up for +Pitcairn." + +But the wind was light, the Pyrenees' bottom was foul, and she could +not beat up against the strong westerly current. At the end of two +hours she had lost three miles. The sailors worked eagerly, as if by +main strength they could compel the PYRENEES against the adverse +elements. But steadily, port tack and starboard tack, she sagged off +to the westward. The captain paced restlessly up and down, pausing +occasionally to survey the vagrant smoke wisps and to trace them back +to the portions of the deck from which they sprang. The carpenter was +engaged constantly in attempting to locate such places, and, when he +succeeded, in calking them tighter and tighter. + +"Well, what do you think?" the captain finally asked McCoy, who was +watching the carpenter with all a child's interest and curiosity in +his eyes. + +McCoy looked shoreward, where the land was disappearing in the +thickening haze. + +"I think it would be better to square away for Mangareva. With that +breeze that is coming, you'll be there tomorrow evening." + +"But what if the fire breaks out? It is liable to do it any moment." + +"Have your boats ready in the falls. The same breeze will carry your +boats to Mangareva if the ship burns out from under." + +Captain Davenport debated for a moment, and then McCoy heard the +question he had not wanted to hear, but which he knew was surely +coming. + +"I have no chart of Mangareva. On the general chart it is only a fly +speck. I would not know where to look for the entrance into the +lagoon. Will you come along and pilot her in for me?" + +McCoy's serenity was unbroken. + +"Yes, Captain," he said, with the same quiet unconcern with which he +would have accepted an invitation to dinner; "I'll go with you to +Mangareva." + +Again the crew was called aft, and the captain spoke to them from the +break of the poop. + +"We've tried to work her up, but you see how we've lost ground. She's +setting off in a two-knot current. This gentleman is the Honorable +McCoy, Chief Magistrate and Governor of Pitcairn Island. He will come +along with us to Mangareva. So you see the situation is not so +dangerous. He would not make such an offer if he thought he was going +to lose his life. Besides, whatever risk there is, if he of his own +free will come on board and take it, we can do no less. What do you +say for Mangareva?" + +This time there was no uproar. McCoy's presence, the surety and calm +that seemed to radiate from him, had had its effect. They conferred +with one another in low voices. There was little urging. They were +virtually unanimous, and they shoved the Cockney out as their +spokesman. That worthy was overwhelmed with consciousness of the +heroism of himself and his mates, and with flashing eyes he cried: + +"By Gawd! If 'e will, we will!" + +The crew mumbled its assent and started forward. + +"One moment, Captain," McCoy said, as the other was turning to give +orders to the mate. "I must go ashore first." + +Mr. Konig was thunderstruck, staring at McCoy as if he were a madman. + +"Go ashore!" the captain cried. "What for? It will take you three +hours to get there in your canoe." + +McCoy measured the distance of the land away, and nodded. + +"Yes, it is six now. I won't get ashore till nine. The people cannot +be assembled earlier than ten. As the breeze freshens up tonight, you +can begin to work up against it, and pick me up at daylight tomorrow +morning." + +"In the name of reason and common sense," the captain burst forth, +"what do you want to assemble the people for? Don't you realize that +my ship is burning beneath me?" + +McCoy was as placid as a summer sea, and the other's anger produced +not the slightest ripple upon it. + +"Yes, Captain," he cooed in his dove-like voice. "I do realize that +your ship is burning. That is why I am going with you to Mangareva. +But I must get permission to go with you. It is our custom. It is an +important matter when the governor leaves the island. The people's +interests are at stake, and so they have the right to vote their +permission or refusal. But they will give it, I know that." + +"Are you sure?" + +"Quite sure." + +"Then if you know they will give it, why bother with getting it? +Think of the delay--a whole night." + +"It is our custom," was the imperturbable reply. "Also, I am the +governor, and I must make arrangements for the conduct of the island +during my absence." + +"But it is only a twenty-four hour run to Mangareva," the captain +objected. "Suppose it took you six times that long to return to +windward; that would bring you back by the end of a week." + +McCoy smiled his large, benevolent smile. + +"Very few vessels come to Pitcairn, and when they do, they are usually +from San Francisco or from around the Horn. I shall be fortunate if I +get back in six months. I may be away a year, and I may have to go to +San Francisco in order to find a vessel that will bring me back. My +father once left Pitcairn to be gone three months, and two years +passed before he could get back. Then, too, you are short of food. If +you have to take to the boats, and the weather comes up bad, you may +be days in reaching land. I can bring off two canoe loads of food in +the morning. Dried bananas will be best. As the breeze freshens, you +beat up against it. The nearer you are, the bigger loads I can bring +off. Goodby." + +He held out his hand. The captain shook it, and was reluctant to let +go. He seemed to cling to it as a drowning sailor clings to a life +buoy. + +"How do I know you will come back in the morning?" he asked. + +"Yes, that's it!" cried the mate. "How do we know but what he's +skinning out to save his own hide?" + +McCoy did not speak. He looked at them sweetly and benignantly, and it +seemed to them that they received a message from his tremendous +certitude of soul. + +The captain released his hand, and, with a last sweeping glance that +embraced the crew in its benediction, McCoy went over the rail and +descended into his canoe. + +The wind freshened, and the Pyrenees, despite the foulness of her +bottom, won half a dozen miles away from the westerly current. At +daylight, with Pitcairn three miles to windward, Captain Davenport +made out two canoes coming off to him. Again McCoy clambered up the +side and dropped over the rail to the hot deck. He was followed by +many packages of dried bananas, each package wrapped in dry leaves. + +"Now, Captain," he said, "swing the yards and drive for dear life. You +see, I am no navigator," he explained a few minutes later, as he stood +by the captain aft, the latter with gaze wandering from aloft to +overside as he estimated the Pyrenees' speed. "You must fetch her to +Mangareva. When you have picked up the land, then I will pilot her in. +What do you think she is making?" + +"Eleven," Captain Davenport answered, with a final glance at the water +rushing past. + +"Eleven. Let me see, if she keeps up that gait, we'll sight Mangareva +between eight and nine o'clock tomorrow morning. I'll have her on the +beach by ten or by eleven at latest. And then your troubles will be +all over." + +It almost seemed to the captain that the blissful moment had already +arrived, such was the persuasive convincingness of McCoy. + +Captain Davenport had been under the fearful strain of navigating his +burning ship for over two weeks, and he was beginning to feel that he +had had enough. + +A heavier flaw of wind struck the back of his neck and whistled by his +ears. He measured the weight of it, and looked quickly overside. + +"The wind is making all the time," he announced. "The old girl's doing +nearer twelve than eleven right now. If this keeps up, we'll be +shortening down tonight." + +All day the Pyrenees, carrying her load of living fire, tore across +the foaming sea. By nightfall, royals and topgallantsails were in, and +she flew on into the darkness, with great, crested seas roaring after +her. The auspicious wind had had its effect, and fore and aft a +visible brightening was apparent. In the second dog-watch some +careless soul started a song, and by eight bells the whole crew was +singing. + +Captain Davenport had his blankets brought up and spread on top the +house. + +"I've forgotten what sleep is," he explained to McCoy. "I'm all in. +But give me a call at any time you think necessary." + +At three in the morning he was aroused by a gentle tugging at his arm. +He sat up quickly, bracing himself against the skylight, stupid yet +from his heavy sleep. The wind was thrumming its war song in the +rigging, and a wild sea was buffeting the PYRENEES. Amidships she was +wallowing first one rail under and then the other, flooding the waist +more often than not. McCoy was shouting something he could not hear. +He reached out, clutched the other by the shoulder, and drew him close +so that his own ear was close to the other's lips. + +"It's three o'clock," came McCoy's voice, still retaining its dovelike +quality, but curiously muffled, as if from a long way off. "We've run +two hundred and fifty. Crescent Island is only thirty miles away, +somewhere there dead ahead. There's no lights on it. If we keep +running, we'll pile up, and lose ourselves as well as the ship." + +"What d' ye think--heave to?" + +"Yes; heave to till daylight. It will only put us back four hours." + +So the Pyrenees, with her cargo of fire, was hove to, bitting the +teeth of the gale and fighting and smashing the pounding seas. She was +a shell, filled with a conflagration, and on the outside of the shell, +clinging precariously, the little motes of men, by pull and haul, +helped her in the battle. + +"It is most unusual, this gale," McCoy told the captain, in the lee of +the cabin. "By rights there should be no gale at this time of the +year. But everything about the weather has been unusual. There has +been a stoppage of the trades, and now it's howling right out of the +trade quarter." He waved his hand into the darkness, as if his vision +could dimly penetrate for hundreds of miles. "It is off to the +westward. There is something big making off there somewhere--a +hurricane or something. We're lucky to be so far to the eastward. But +this is only a little blow," he added. "It can't last. I can tell you +that much." + +By daylight the gale had eased down to normal. But daylight revealed a +new danger. It had come on thick. The sea was covered by a fog, or, +rather, by a pearly mist that was fog-like in density, in so far as it +obstructed vision, but that was no more than a film on the sea, for +the sun shot it through and filled it with a glowing radiance. + +The deck of the Pyrenees was making more smoke than on the preceding +day, and the cheerfulness of officers and crew had vanished. In the +lee of the galley the cabin boy could be heard whimpering. It was his +first voyage, and the fear of death was at his heart. The captain +wandered about like a lost soul, nervously chewing his mustache, +scowling, unable to make up his mind what to do. + +"What do you think?" he asked, pausing by the side of McCoy, who was +making a breakfast off fried bananas and a mug of water. + +McCoy finished the last banana, drained the mug, and looked slowly +around. In his eyes was a smile of tenderness as he said: + +"Well, Captain, we might as well drive as burn. Your decks are not +going to hold out forever. They are hotter this morning. You haven't a +pair of shoes I can wear? It is getting uncomfortable for my bare +feet." + +The Pyrenees shipped two heavy seas as she was swung off and put once +more before it, and the first mate expressed a desire to have all that +water down in the hold, if only it could be introduced without taking +off the hatches. McCoy ducked his head into the binnacle and watched +the course set. + +"I'd hold her up some more, Captain," he said. "She's been making +drift when hove to." + +"I've set it to a point higher already," was the answer. "Isn't that +enough?" + +"I'd make it two points, Captain. This bit of a blow kicked that +westerly current ahead faster than you imagine." + +Captain Davenport compromised on a point and a half, and then went +aloft, accompanied by McCoy and the first mate, to keep a lookout for +land. Sail had been made, so that the Pyrenees was doing ten knots. +The following sea was dying down rapidly. There was no break in the +pearly fog, and by ten o'clock Captain Davenport was growing nervous. +All hands were at their stations, ready, at the first warning of land +ahead, to spring like fiends to the task of bringing the Pyrenees up +on the wind. That land ahead, a surf-washed outer reef, would be +perilously close when it revealed itself in such a fog. + +Another hour passed. The three watchers aloft stared intently into the +pearly radiance. "What if we miss Mangareva?" Captain Davenport asked +abruptly. + +McCoy, without shifting his gaze, answered softly: + +"Why, let her drive, captain. That is all we can do. All the Paumotus +are before us. We can drive for a thousand miles through reefs and +atolls. We are bound to fetch up somewhere." + +"Then drive it is." Captain Davenport evidenced his intention of +descending to the deck. "We've missed Mangareva. God knows where the +next land is. I wish I'd held her up that other half-point," he +confessed a moment later. "This cursed current plays the devil with a +navigator." + +"The old navigators called the Paumotus the Dangerous Archipelago," +McCoy said, when they had regained the poop. "This very current was +partly responsible for that name." + +"I was talking with a sailor chap in Sydney, once," said Mr. Konig. +"He'd been trading in the Paumotus. He told me insurance was eighteen +per cent. Is that right?" + +McCoy smiled and nodded. + +"Except that they don't insure," he explained. "The owners write off +twenty per cent of the cost of their schooners each year." + +"My God!" Captain Davenport groaned. "That makes the life of a +schooner only five years!" He shook his head sadly, murmuring, "Bad +waters! Bad waters!" + +Again they went into the cabin to consult the big general chart; but +the poisonous vapors drove them coughing and gasping on deck. + +"Here is Moerenhout Island," Captain Davenport pointed it out on the +chart, which he had spread on the house. "It can't be more than a +hundred miles to leeward." + +"A hundred and ten." McCoy shook his head doubtfully. "It might be +done, but it is very difficult. I might beach her, and then again I +might put her on the reef. A bad place, a very bad place." + +"We'll take the chance," was Captain Davenport's decision, as he set +about working out the course. + +Sail was shortened early in the afternoon, to avoid running past in +the night; and in the second dog-watch the crew manifested its +regained cheerfulness. Land was so very near, and their troubles would +be over in the morning. + +But morning broke clear, with a blazing tropic sun. The southeast +trade had swung around to the eastward, and was driving the PYRENEES +through the water at an eight-knot clip. Captain Davenport worked up +his dead reckoning, allowing generously for drift, and announced +Moerenhout Island to be not more than ten miles off. The Pyrenees +sailed the ten miles; she sailed ten miles more; and the lookouts at +the three mastheads saw naught but the naked, sun-washed sea. + +"But the land is there, I tell you," Captain Davenport shouted to them +from the poop. + +McCoy smiled soothingly, but the captain glared about him like a +madman, fetched his sextant, and took a chronometer sight. + +"I knew I was right," he almost shouted, when he had worked up the +observation. "Twenty-one, fifty-five, south; one-thirty-six, two, +west. There you are. We're eight miles to windward yet. What did you +make it out, Mr. Konig?" + +The first mate glanced at his own figures, and said in a low voice: + +"Twenty-one, fifty-five all right; but my longitude's one-thirty-six, +forty-eight. That puts us considerably to leeward--" + +But Captain Davenport ignored his figures with so contemptuous a +silence as to make Mr. Konig grit his teeth and curse savagely under +his breath. + +"Keep her off," the captain ordered the man at the wheel. "Three +points--steady there, as she goes!" + +Then he returned to his figures and worked them over. The sweat poured +from his face. He chewed his mustache, his lips, and his pencil, +staring at the figures as a man might at a ghost. Suddenly, with a +fierce, muscular outburst, he crumpled the scribbled paper in his fist +and crushed it under foot. Mr. Konig grinned vindictively and turned +away, while Captain Davenport leaned against the cabin and for half an +hour spoke no word, contenting himself with gazing to leeward with an +expression of musing hopelessness on his face. + +"Mr. McCoy," he broke silence abruptly. "The chart indicates a group +of islands, but not how many, off there to the north'ard, or +nor'-nor'westward, about forty miles--the Acteon Islands. What about +them?" + +"There are four, all low," McCoy answered. "First to the southeast is +Matuerui--no people, no entrance to the lagoon. Then comes Tenarunga. +There used to be about a dozen people there, but they may be all gone +now. Anyway, there is no entrance for a ship--only a boat entrance, +with a fathom of water. Vehauga and Teua-raro are the other two. No +entrances, no people, very low. There is no bed for the Pyrenees in +that group. She would be a total wreck." + +"Listen to that!" Captain Davenport was frantic. "No people! No +entrances! What in the devil are islands good for? + +"Well, then," he barked suddenly, like an excited terrier, "the chart +gives a whole mess of islands off to the nor'west. What about them? +What one has an entrance where I can lay my ship?" + +McCoy calmly considered. He did not refer to the chart. All these +islands, reefs, shoals, lagoons, entrances, and distances were marked +on the chart of his memory. He knew them as the city dweller knows his +buildings, streets, and alleys. + +"Papakena and Vanavana are off there to the westward, or +west-nor'westward a hundred miles and a bit more," he said. "One is +uninhabited, and I heard that the people on the other had gone off to +Cadmus Island. Anyway, neither lagoon has an entrance. Ahunui is +another hundred miles on to the nor'west. No entrance, no people." + +"Well, forty miles beyond them are two islands?" Captain Davenport +queried, raising his head from the chart. + +McCoy shook his head. + +"Paros and Manuhungi--no entrances, no people. Nengo-Nengo is forty +miles beyond them, in turn, and it has no people and no entrance. But +there is Hao Island. It is just the place. The lagoon is thirty miles +long and five miles wide. There are plenty of people. You can usually +find water. And any ship in the world can go through the entrance." + +He ceased and gazed solicitously at Captain Davenport, who, bending +over the chart with a pair of dividers in hand, had just emitted a low +groan. + +"Is there any lagoon with an entrance anywhere nearer than Hao +Island?" he asked. + +"No, Captain; that is the nearest." + +"Well, it's three hundred and forty miles." Captain Davenport was +speaking very slowly, with decision. "I won't risk the responsibility +of all these lives. I'll wreck her on the Acteons. And she's a good +ship, too," he added regretfully, after altering the course, this time +making more allowance than ever for the westerly current. + +An hour later the sky was overcast. The southeast trade still held, +but the ocean was a checker board of squalls. + +"We'll be there by one o'clock," Captain Davenport announced +confidently. "By two o'clock at the outside. McCoy, you put her ashore +on the one where the people are." + +The sun did not appear again, nor, at one o'clock, was any land to be +seen. Captain Davenport looked astern at the Pyrenees' canting wake. + +"Good Lord!" he cried. "An easterly current? Look at that!" + +Mr. Konig was incredulous. McCoy was noncommittal, though he said that +in the Paumotus there was no reason why it should not be an easterly +current. A few minutes later a squall robbed the Pyrenees temporarily +of all her wind, and she was left rolling heavily in the trough. + +"Where's that deep lead? Over with it, you there!" Captain Davenport +held the lead line and watched it sag off to the northeast. "There, +look at that! Take hold of it for yourself." + +McCoy and the mate tried it, and felt the line thrumming and vibrating +savagely to the grip of the tidal stream. + +"A four-knot current," said Mr. Konig. + +"An easterly current instead of a westerly," said Captain "Davenport, +glaring accusingly at McCoy, as if to cast the blame for it upon him. + +"That is one of the reasons, Captain, for insurance being eighteen per +cent in these waters," McCoy answered cheerfully. "You can never tell. +The currents are always changing. There was a man who wrote books, I +forget his name, in the yacht Casco. He missed Takaroa by thirty miles +and fetched Tikei, all because of the shifting currents. You are up to +windward now, and you'd better keep off a few points." + +"But how much has this current set me?" the captain demanded irately. +"How am I to know how much to keep off?" + +"I don't know, Captain," McCoy said with great gentleness. + +The wind returned, and the PYRENEES, her deck smoking and shimmering +in the bright gray light, ran off dead to leeward. Then she worked +back, port tack and starboard tack, crisscrossing her track, combing +the sea for the Acteon Islands, which the masthead lookouts failed to +sight. + +Captain Davenport was beside himself. His rage took the form of sullen +silence, and he spent the afternoon in pacing the poop or leaning +against the weather shrouds. At nightfall, without even consulting +McCoy, he squared away and headed into the northwest. Mr. Konig, +surreptitiously consulting chart and binnacle, and McCoy, openly and +innocently consulting the binnacle, knew that they were running for +Hao Island. By midnight the squalls ceased, and the stars came out. +Captain Davenport was cheered by the promise of a clear day. + +"I'll get an observation in the morning," he told McCoy, "though what +my latitude is, is a puzzler. But I'll use the Sumner method, and +settle that. Do you know the Sumner line?" + +And thereupon he explained it in detail to McCoy. + +The day proved clear, the trade blew steadily out of the east, and the +Pyrenees just as steadily logged her nine knots. Both the captain and +mate worked out the position on a Sumner line, and agreed, and at noon +agreed again, and verified the morning sights by the noon sights. + +"Another twenty-four hours and we'll be there," Captain Davenport +assured McCoy. "It's a miracle the way the old girl's decks hold out. +But they can't last. They can't last. Look at them smoke, more and +more every day. Yet it was a tight deck to begin with, fresh-calked in +Frisco. I was surprised when the fire first broke out and we battened +down. Look at that!" + +He broke off to gaze with dropped jaw at a spiral of smoke that coiled +and twisted in the lee of the mizzenmast twenty feet above the deck. + +"Now, how did that get there?" he demanded indignantly. + +Beneath it there was no smoke. Crawling up from the deck, sheltered +from the wind by the mast, by some freak it took form and visibility +at that height. It writhed away from the mast, and for a moment +overhung the captain like some threatening portent. The next moment +the wind whisked it away, and the captain's jaw returned to place. + +"As I was saying, when we first battened down, I was surprised. It +was a tight deck, yet it leaked smoke like a sieve. And we've calked +and calked ever since. There must be tremendous pressure underneath to +drive so much smoke through." + +That afternoon the sky became overcast again, and squally, drizzly +weather set in. The wind shifted back and forth between southeast and +northeast, and at midnight the Pyrenees was caught aback by a sharp +squall from the southwest, from which point the wind continued to blow +intermittently. + +"We won't make Hao until ten or eleven," Captain Davenport complained +at seven in the morning, when the fleeting promise of the sun had been +erased by hazy cloud masses in the eastern sky. And the next moment he +was plaintively demanding, "And what are the currents doing?" + +Lookouts at the mastheads could report no land, and the day passed in +drizzling calms and violent squalls. By nightfall a heavy sea began to +make from the west. The barometer had fallen to 29.50. There was no +wind, and still the ominous sea continued to increase. Soon the +Pyrenees was rolling madly in the huge waves that marched in an +unending procession from out of the darkness of the west. Sail was +shortened as fast as both watches could work, and, when the tired crew +had finished, its grumbling and complaining voices, peculiarly +animal-like and menacing, could be heard in the darkness. Once the +starboard watch was called aft to lash down and make secure, and the +men openly advertised their sullenness and unwillingness. Every slow +movement was a protest and a threat. The atmosphere was moist and +sticky like mucilage, and in the absence of wind all hands seemed to +pant and gasp for air. The sweat stood out on faces and bare arms, and +Captain Davenport for one, his face more gaunt and care-worn than +ever, and his eyes troubled and staring, was oppressed by a feeling of +impending calamity. + +"It's off to the westward," McCoy said encouragingly. "At worst, we'll +be only on the edge of it." + +But Captain Davenport refused to be comforted, and by the light of a +lantern read up the chapter in his Epitome that related to the +strategy of shipmasters in cyclonic storms. From somewhere amidships +the silence was broken by a low whimpering from the cabin boy. + +"Oh, shut up!" Captain Davenport yelled suddenly and with such force +as to startle every man on board and to frighten the offender into a +wild wail of terror. + +"Mr. Konig," the captain said in a voice that trembled with rage and +nerves, "will you kindly step for'ard and stop that brat's mouth with +a deck mop?" + +But it was McCoy who went forward, and in a few minutes had the boy +comforted and asleep. + +Shortly before daybreak the first breath of air began to move from out +the southeast, increasing swiftly to a stiff and stiffer breeze. All +hands were on deck waiting for what might be behind it. "We're all +right now, Captain," said McCoy, standing close to his shoulder. "The +hurricane is to the west'ard, and we are south of it. This breeze is +the in-suck. It won't blow any harder. You can begin to put sail on +her." + +"But what's the good? Where shall I sail? This is the second day +without observations, and we should have sighted Hao Island yesterday +morning. Which way does it bear, north, south, east, or what? Tell me +that, and I'll make sail in a jiffy." + +"I am no navigator, Captain," McCoy said in his mild way. + +"I used to think I was one," was the retort, "before I got into these +Paumotus." + +At midday the cry of "Breakers ahead!" was heard from the lookout. The +Pyrenees was kept off, and sail after sail was loosed and sheeted +home. The Pyrenees was sliding through the water and fighting a +current that threatened to set her down upon the breakers. Officers +and men were working like mad, cook and cabin boy, Captain Davenport +himself, and McCoy all lending a hand. It was a close shave. It was a +low shoal, a bleak and perilous place over which the seas broke +unceasingly, where no man could live, and on which not even sea birds +could rest. The PYRENEES was swept within a hundred yards of it before +the wind carried her clear, and at this moment the panting crew, its +work done, burst out in a torrent of curses upon the head of McCoy--of +McCoy who had come on board, and proposed the run to Mangareva, and +lured them all away from the safety of Pitcairn Island to certain +destruction in this baffling and terrible stretch of sea. But McCoy's +tranquil soul was undisturbed. He smiled at them with simple and +gracious benevolence, and, somehow, the exalted goodness of him seemed +to penetrate to their dark and somber souls, shaming them, and from +very shame stilling the curses vibrating in their throats. + +"Bad waters! Bad waters!" Captain Davenport was murmuring as his ship +forged clear; but he broke off abruptly to gaze at the shoal which +should have been dead astern, but which was already on the PYRENEES' +weather-quarter and working up rapidly to windward. + +He sat down and buried his face in his hands. And the first mate saw, +and McCoy saw, and the crew saw, what he had seen. South of the shoal +an easterly current had set them down upon it; north of the shoal an +equally swift westerly current had clutched the ship and was sweeping +her away. + +"I've heard of these Paumotus before," the captain groaned, lifting +his blanched face from his hands. "Captain Moyendale told me about +them after losing his ship on them. And I laughed at him behind his +back. God forgive me, I laughed at him. What shoal is that?" he broke +off, to ask McCoy. + +"I don't know, Captain." + +"Why don't you know?" + +"Because I never saw it before, and because I have never heard of it. +I do know that it is not charted. These waters have never been +thoroughly surveyed." + +"Then you don't know where we are?" + +"No more than you do," McCoy said gently. + +At four in the afternoon cocoanut trees were sighted, apparently +growing out of the water. A little later the low land of an atoll was +raised above the sea. + +"I know where we are now, Captain." McCoy lowered the glasses from his +eyes. "That's Resolution Island. We are forty miles beyond Hao Island, +and the wind is in our teeth." + +"Get ready to beach her then. Where's the entrance?" + +"There's only a canoe passage. But now that we know where we are, we +can run for Barclay de Tolley. It is only one hundred and twenty miles +from here, due nor'-nor'west. With this breeze we can be there by nine +o'clock tomorrow morning." + +Captain Davenport consulted the chart and debated with himself. + +"If we wreck her here," McCoy added, "we'd have to make the run to +Barclay de Tolley in the boats just the same." + +The captain gave his orders, and once more the Pyrenees swung off for +another run across the inhospitable sea. + +And the middle of the next afternoon saw despair and mutiny on her +smoking deck. The current had accelerated, the wind had slackened, and +the Pyrenees had sagged off to the west. The lookout sighted Barclay +de Tolley to the eastward, barely visible from the masthead, and +vainly and for hours the PYRENEES tried to beat up to it. Ever, like a +mirage, the cocoanut trees hovered on the horizon, visible only from +the masthead. From the deck they were hidden by the bulge of the +world. + +Again Captain Davenport consulted McCoy and the chart. Makemo lay +seventy-five miles to the southwest. Its lagoon was thirty miles long, +and its entrance was excellent. When Captain Davenport gave his +orders, the crew refused duty. They announced that they had had enough +of hell fire under their feet. There was the land. What if the ship +could not make it? They could make it in the boats. Let her burn, +then. Their lives amounted to something to them. They had served +faithfully the ship, now they were going to serve themselves. + +They sprang to the boats, brushing the second and third mates out of +the way, and proceeded to swing the boats out and to prepare to lower +away. Captain Davenport and the first mate, revolvers in hand, were +advancing to the break of the poop, when McCoy, who had climbed on top +of the cabin, began to speak. + +He spoke to the sailors, and at the first sound of his dovelike, +cooing voice they paused to hear. He extended to them his own +ineffable serenity and peace. His soft voice and simple thoughts +flowed out to them in a magic stream, soothing them against their +wills. Long forgotten things came back to them, and some remembered +lullaby songs of childhood and the content and rest of the mother's +arm at the end of the day. There was no more trouble, no more danger, +no more irk, in all the world. Everything was as it should be, and it +was only a matter of course that they should turn their backs upon the +land and put to sea once more with hell fire hot beneath their feet. + +McCoy spoke simply; but it was not what he spoke. It was his +personality that spoke more eloquently than any word he could utter. +It was an alchemy of soul occultly subtile and profoundly deep--a +mysterious emanation of the spirit, seductive, sweetly humble, and +terribly imperious. It was illumination in the dark crypts of their +souls, a compulsion of purity and gentleness vastly greater than that +which resided in the shining, death-spitting revolvers of the +officers. + +The men wavered reluctantly where they stood, and those who had loosed +the turns made them fast again. Then one, and then another, and then +all of them, began to sidle awkwardly away. + +McCoy's face was beaming with childlike pleasure as he descended from +the top of the cabin. There was no trouble. For that matter there had +been no trouble averted. There never had been any trouble, for there +was no place for such in the blissful world in which he lived. + +"You hypnotized em," Mr. Konig grinned at him, speaking in a low +voice. + +"Those boys are good," was the answer. "Their hearts are good. They +have had a hard time, and they have worked hard, and they will work +hard to the end." + +Mr. Konig had not time to reply. His voice was ringing out orders, the +sailors were springing to obey, and the PYRENEES was paying slowly off +from the wind until her bow should point in the direction of Makemo. + +The wind was very light, and after sundown almost ceased. It was +insufferably warm, and fore and aft men sought vainly to sleep. The +deck was too hot to lie upon, and poisonous vapors, oozing through the +seams, crept like evil spirits over the ship, stealing into the +nostrils and windpipes of the unwary and causing fits of sneezing and +coughing. The stars blinked lazily in the dim vault overhead; and the +full moon, rising in the east, touched with its light the myriads of +wisps and threads and spidery films of smoke that intertwined and +writhed and twisted along the deck, over the rails, and up the masts +and shrouds. + +"Tell me," Captain Davenport said, rubbing his smarting eyes, "what +happened with that BOUNTY crowd after they reached Pitcairn? The +account I read said they burnt the Bounty, and that they were not +discovered until many years later. But what happened in the meantime? +I've always been curious to know. They were men with their necks in +the rope. There were some native men, too. And then there were women. +That made it look like trouble right from the jump." + +"There was trouble," McCoy answered. "They were bad men. They +quarreled about the women right away. One of the mutineers, Williams, +lost his wife. All the women were Tahitian women. His wife fell from +the cliffs when hunting sea birds. Then he took the wife of one of the +native men away from him. All the native men were made very angry by +this, and they killed off nearly all the mutineers. Then the mutineers +that escaped killed off all the native men. The women helped. And the +natives killed each other. Everybody killed everybody. They were +terrible men. + +"Timiti was killed by two other natives while they were combing his +hair in friendship. The white men had sent them to do it. Then the +white men killed them. The wife of Tullaloo killed him in a cave +because she wanted a white man for husband. They were very wicked. God +had hidden His face from them. At the end of two years all the native +men were murdered, and all the white men except four. They were Young, +John Adams, McCoy, who was my great-grandfather, and Quintal. He was a +very bad man, too. Once, just because his wife did not catch enough +fish for him, he bit off her ear." + +"They were a bad lot!" Mr. Konig exclaimed. + +"Yes, they were very bad," McCoy agreed and went on serenely cooing of +the blood and lust of his iniquitous ancestry. "My great-grandfather +escaped murder in order to die by his own hand. He made a still and +manufactured alcohol from the roots of the ti-plant. Quintal was his +chum, and they got drunk together all the time. At last McCoy got +delirium tremens, tied a rock to his neck, and jumped into the sea. + +"Quintal's wife, the one whose ear he bit off, also got killed by +falling from the cliffs. Then Quintal went to Young and demanded his +wife, and went to Adams and demanded his wife. Adams and Young were +afraid of Quintal. They knew he would kill them. So they killed him, +the two of them together, with a hatchet. Then Young died. And that +was about all the trouble they had." + +"I should say so," Captain Davenport snorted. "There was nobody left +to kill." + +"You see, God had hidden His face," McCoy said. + +By morning no more than a faint air was blowing from the eastward, +and, unable to make appreciable southing by it, Captain Davenport +hauled up full-and-by on the port track. He was afraid of that +terrible westerly current which had cheated him out of so many ports +of refuge. All day the calm continued, and all night, while the +sailors, on a short ration of dried banana, were grumbling. Also, they +were growing weak and complaining of stomach pains caused by the +straight banana diet. All day the current swept the PYRENEES to the +westward, while there was no wind to bear her south. In the middle of +the first dogwatch, cocoanut trees were sighted due south, their +tufted heads rising above the water and marking the low-lying atoll +beneath. + +"That is Taenga Island," McCoy said. "We need a breeze tonight, or +else we'll miss Makemo." + +"What's become of the southeast trade?" the captain demanded. "Why +don't it blow? What's the matter?" + +"It is the evaporation from the big lagoons--there are so many of +them," McCoy explained. "The evaporation upsets the whole system of +trades. It even causes the wind to back up and blow gales from the +southwest. This is the Dangerous Archipelago, Captain." + +Captain Davenport faced the old man, opened his mouth, and was about +to curse, but paused and refrained. McCoy's presence was a rebuke to +the blasphemies that stirred in his brain and trembled in his larynx. +McCoy's influence had been growing during the many days they had been +together. Captain Davenport was an autocrat of the sea, fearing no +man, never bridling his tongue, and now he found himself unable to +curse in the presence of this old man with the feminine brown eyes and +the voice of a dove. When he realized this, Captain Davenport +experienced a distinct shock. This old man was merely the seed of +McCoy, of McCoy of the BOUNTY, the mutineer fleeing from the hemp that +waited him in England, the McCoy who was a power for evil in the early +days of blood and lust and violent death on Pitcairn Island. + +Captain Davenport was not religious, yet in that moment he felt a mad +impulse to cast himself at the other's feet--and to say he knew not +what. It was an emotion that so deeply stirred him, rather than a +coherent thought, and he was aware in some vague way of his own +unworthiness and smallness in the presence of this other man who +possessed the simplicity of a child and the gentleness of a woman. + +Of course he could not so humble himself before the eyes of his +officers and men. And yet the anger that had prompted the blasphemy +still raged in him. He suddenly smote the cabin with his clenched hand +and cried: + +"Look here, old man, I won't be beaten. These Paumotus have cheated +and tricked me and made a fool of me. I refuse to be beaten. I am +going to drive this ship, and drive and drive and drive clear through +the Paumotus to China but what I find a bed for her. If every man +deserts, I'll stay by her. I'll show the Paumotus. They can't fool me. +She's a good girl, and I'll stick by her as long as there's a plank to +stand on. You hear me?" + +"And I'll stay with you, Captain," McCoy said. + +During the night, light, baffling airs blew out of the south, and the +frantic captain, with his cargo of fire, watched and measured his +westward drift and went off by himself at times to curse softly so +that McCoy should not hear. + +Daylight showed more palms growing out of the water to the south. + +"That's the leeward point of Makemo," McCoy said. "Katiu is only a few +miles to the west. We may make that." + +But the current, sucking between the two islands, swept them to the +northwest, and at one in the afternoon they saw the palms of Katiu +rise above the sea and sink back into the sea again. + +A few minutes later, just as the captain had discovered that a new +current from the northeast had gripped the Pyrenees, the masthead +lookouts raised cocoanut palms in the northwest. + +"It is Raraka," said McCoy. "We won't make it without wind. The +current is drawing us down to the southwest. But we must watch out. A +few miles farther on a current flows north and turns in a circle to +the northwest. This will sweep us away from Fakarava, and Fakarava is +the place for the Pyrenees to find her bed." + +"They can sweep all they da--all they well please," Captain Davenport +remarked with heat. "We'll find a bed for her somewhere just the +same." + +But the situation on the Pyrenees was reaching a culmination. The +deck was so hot that it seemed an increase of a few degrees would +cause it to burst into flames. In many places even the heavy-soled +shoes of the men were no protection, and they were compelled to step +lively to avoid scorching their feet. The smoke had increased and +grown more acrid. Every man on board was suffering from inflamed eyes, +and they coughed and strangled like a crew of tuberculosis patients. +In the afternoon the boats were swung out and equipped. The last +several packages of dried bananas were stored in them, as well as the +instruments of the officers. Captain Davenport even put the +chronometer into the longboat, fearing the blowing up of the deck at +any moment. + +All night this apprehension weighed heavily on all, and in the first +morning light, with hollow eyes and ghastly faces, they stared at one +another as if in surprise that the Pyrenees still held together and +that they still were alive. + +Walking rapidly at times, and even occasionally breaking into an +undignified hop-skip-and-run, Captain Davenport inspected his ship's +deck. + +"It is a matter of hours now, if not of minutes," he announced on his +return to the poop. + +The cry of land came down from the masthead. From the deck the land +was invisible, and McCoy went aloft, while the captain took advantage +of the opportunity to curse some of the bitterness out of his heart. +But the cursing was suddenly stopped by a dark line on the water which +he sighted to the northeast. It was not a squall, but a regular +breeze--the disrupted trade wind, eight points out of its direction +but resuming business once more. + +"Hold her up, Captain," McCoy said as soon as he reached the poop. +"That's the easterly point of Fakarava, and we'll go in through the +passage full-tilt, the wind abeam, and every sail drawing." + +At the end of an hour, the cocoanut trees and the low-lying land were +visible from the deck. The feeling that the end of the PYRENEES' +resistance was imminent weighed heavily on everybody. Captain +Davenport had the three boats lowered and dropped short astern, a man +in each to keep them apart. The Pyrenees closely skirted the shore, +the surf-whitened atoll a bare two cable lengths away. + +And a minute later the land parted, exposing a narrow passage and the +lagoon beyond, a great mirror, thirty miles in length and a third as +broad. + +"Now, Captain." + +For the last time the yards of the Pyrenees swung around as she obeyed +the wheel and headed into the passage. The turns had scarcely been +made, and nothing had been coiled down, when the men and mates swept +back to the poop in panic terror. Nothing had happened, yet they +averred that something was going to happen. They could not tell why. +They merely knew that it was about to happen. McCoy started forward to +take up his position on the bow in order to con the vessel in; but the +captain gripped his arm and whirled him around. + +"Do it from here," he said. "That deck's not safe. What's the matter?" +he demanded the next instant. "We're standing still." + +McCoy smiled. + +"You are bucking a seven-knot current, Captain," he said. "That is the +way the full ebb runs out of this passage." + +At the end of another hour the Pyrenees had scarcely gained her +length, but the wind freshened and she began to forge ahead. + +"Better get into the boats, some of you," Captain Davenport commanded. + +His voice was still ringing, and the men were just beginning to move +in obedience, when the amidship deck of the Pyrenees, in a mass of +flame and smoke, was flung upward into the sails and rigging, part of +it remaining there and the rest falling into the sea. The wind being +abeam, was what had saved the men crowded aft. They made a blind rush +to gain the boats, but McCoy's voice, carrying its convincing message +of vast calm and endless time, stopped them. + +"Take it easy," he was saying. "Everything is all right. Pass that boy +down somebody, please." + +The man at the wheel had forsaken it in a funk, and Captain Davenport +had leaped and caught the spokes in time to prevent the ship from +yawing in the current and going ashore. + +"Better take charge of the boats," he said to Mr. Konig. "Tow one of +them short, right under the quarter. . . . When I go over, it'll be on +the jump." + +Mr. Konig hesitated, then went over the rail and lowered himself into +the boat. + +"Keep her off half a point, Captain." + +Captain Davenport gave a start. He had thought he had the ship to +himself. + +"Ay, ay; half a point it is," he answered. + +Amidships the Pyrenees was an open flaming furnace, out of which +poured an immense volume of smoke which rose high above the masts and +completely hid the forward part of the ship. McCoy, in the shelter of +the mizzen-shrouds, continued his difficult task of conning the ship +through the intricate channel. The fire was working aft along the deck +from the seat of explosion, while the soaring tower of canvas on the +mainmast went up and vanished in a sheet of flame. Forward, though +they could not see them, they knew that the head-sails were still +drawing. + +"If only she don't burn all her canvas off before she makes inside," +the captain groaned. + +"She'll make it," McCoy assured him with supreme confidence. "There +is plenty of time. She is bound to make it. And once inside, we'll put +her before it; that will keep the smoke away from us and hold back the +fire from working aft." + +A tongue of flame sprang up the mizzen, reached hungrily for the +lowest tier of canvas, missed it, and vanished. From aloft a burning +shred of rope stuff fell square on the back of Captain Davenport's +neck. He acted with the celerity of one stung by a bee as he reached +up and brushed the offending fire from his skin. + +"How is she heading, Captain?" + +"Nor'west by west." + +"Keep her west-nor-west." + +Captain Davenport put the wheel up and steadied her. + +"West by north, Captain." + +"West by north she is." + +"And now west." + +Slowly, point by point, as she entered the lagoon, the PYRENEES +described the circle that put her before the wind; and point by point, +with all the calm certitude of a thousand years of time to spare, +McCoy chanted the changing course. + +"Another point, Captain." + +"A point it is." + +Captain Davenport whirled several spokes over, suddenly reversing and +coming back one to check her. + +"Steady." + +"Steady she is--right on it." + +Despite the fact that the wind was now astern, the heat was so intense +that Captain Davenport was compelled to steal sidelong glances into +the binnacle, letting go the wheel now with one hand, now with the +other, to rub or shield his blistering cheeks. + +McCoy's beard was crinkling and shriveling and the smell of it, strong +in the other's nostrils, compelled him to look toward McCoy with +sudden solicitude. Captain Davenport was letting go the spokes +alternately with his hands in order to rub their blistering backs +against his trousers. Every sail on the mizzenmast vanished in a rush +of flame, compelling the two men to crouch and shield their faces. + +"Now," said McCoy, stealing a glance ahead at the low shore, "four +points up, Captain, and let her drive." + +Shreds and patches of burning rope and canvas were falling about them +and upon them. The tarry smoke from a smouldering piece of rope at the +captain's feet set him off into a violent coughing fit, during which +he still clung to the spokes. + +The Pyrenees struck, her bow lifted and she ground ahead gently to a +stop. A shower of burning fragments, dislodged by the shock, fell +about them. The ship moved ahead again and struck a second time. She +crushed the fragile coral under her keel, drove on, and struck a third +time. + +"Hard over," said McCoy. "Hard over?" he questioned gently, a minute +later. + +"She won't answer," was the reply. + +"All right. She is swinging around." McCoy peered over the side. +"Soft, white sand. Couldn't ask better. A beautiful bed." + +As the Pyrenees swung around her stern away from the wind, a fearful +blast of smoke and flame poured aft. Captain Davenport deserted the +wheel in blistering agony. He reached the painter of the boat that lay +under the quarter, then looked for McCoy, who was standing aside to +let him go down. + +"You first," the captain cried, gripping him by the shoulder and +almost throwing him over the rail. But the flame and smoke were too +terrible, and he followed hard after McCoy, both men wriggling on the +rope and sliding down into the boat together. A sailor in the bow, +without waiting for orders, slashed the painter through with his +sheath knife. The oars, poised in readiness, bit into the water, and +the boat shot away. + +"A beautiful bed, Captain," McCoy murmured, looking back. + +"Ay, a beautiful bed, and all thanks to you," was the answer. + +The three boats pulled away for the white beach of pounded coral, +beyond which, on the edge of a cocoanut grove, could be seen a half +dozen grass houses and a score or more of excited natives, gazing +wide-eyed at the conflagration that had come to land. + +The boats grounded and they stepped out on the white beach. + +"And now," said McCoy, "I must see about getting back to Pitcairn." + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of South Sea Tales, by Jack London + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SOUTH SEA TALES *** + +This file should be named soset11.txt or soset11.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, soset12.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, soset11a.txt + +This e-text was typed by Theresa Armao, Albany, New York. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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