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diff --git a/old/1208-h/1208-h.htm b/old/1208-h/1208-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f8cc40f --- /dev/null +++ b/old/1208-h/1208-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6784 @@ +<?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> +<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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