Title: The Land of the Hibiscus Blossom
Author: Hume Nisbet
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eBook No.: 0607571.txt
Language: English
Date first posted: September 2006
Date most recently updated: September 2006

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The Land of the Hibiscus Blossom
Hume Nisbet



Preface.

LAST year, while travelling over Australasia collecting material for
a work then being prepared, I thought to score a point for my firm
while up in Northern Queensland by visiting that as yet considerably
dark island, New Guinea.

The Melbourne editor and agent at once consented to my proposal, and
considered, with me, that it would be of great advantage to the work
if I could make my notes and sketches from the savages and their land
direct, if I thought it was worth risking my life for; but was it
after all worth the risk?

In Australia, New Guinea is a name to inspire fear and trembling;
they are much nearer to the dreaded cannibals, and hear more of their
deeds of atrocity than we in England are and do. Tales of death from
fever to those who luckily escape the spears and poisoned arrows float
down monthly.

"God help you if you go to that fever-stricken land," wrote a
Victorian friend, by way of farewell.

I considered it worth the risk, and as I had in former years lived
with the cannibals of New Zealand, besides having had some distant
relations wolfed amongst them in the good old days, I did not feel
quite the same shrinking as a new chum might.

It was rather amusing to hear the sad forebodings of casual friends
whom I picked up as I progressed towards my destination; the nearer I
drew to it, the sadder became the gloomy farewells.

"You are too plump to escape the natives."

"Just the temperament to catch the fever quickly." And so on.

I made friends at Thursday Island, and was fortunate enough to find
the mail-steamer going, not only to Moresby, but round the coast as
far as Teste Island; so Mr. Vivian Bowden, the plucky manager of the
enterprising firm of Messrs. Burns, Philip, and Co., made up his mind
to take a little holiday and accompany me on the voyage round the
British part of the island.

I am indebted to his kindness in many ways; not less to his great
patience, allowing me to use their vessel pretty much as I liked, but
in giving me time to take as many sketches as I wished, besides
introducing me to the genial and generous traders throughout the
islands of the Torres Straits, and where they had ventured to
establish stations in New Guinea.

I met with no mishaps from natives, nor did I catch the fever.
Everywhere I was cordially received and overpowered with kindness: by
the Governor, his Excellency Sir John Douglas, the missionaries, white
and coloured, the traders, and those splendid man-eaters, the natives;
so that now I can hardly know which to admire or regret the most,
since fate has forced me to say "adieu."

I mixed with the traders and listened to their thrilling tales night
after night; I went amongst the natives, who gave me presents, looked
wonderingly upon my sketches, and treated me like a friend and
brother, acting with scrupulous honesty, and feeling my arms and legs
with apparent pleasure, but without desire.

The Kanaka teachers whom I met astonished me, without exception, by
their patience under no ordinary sufferings and their Christian
heroism; they had come to the land to lay down their lives, and went
with contented faces about their daily sacrifices.

With the missionaries it was the same, Protestant and Catholic; it
was not only a question of giving up the necessities of civilization,
but the yielding up of their lives.

To write a story about New Guinea and introduce fictitious characters
I found to be one of the most distasteful tasks I have ever attempted,
as the number of white men who have as yet been there are so few that
they are all known, with their characteristics, as well as the names
of the islands, with their differences of outline, which lie about the
coast.

Again, when I tried to work out my characters, the men I had known
came up so vividly before me that I found it next to impossible to
resist describing some peculiarity when building up my heroes.

Therefore, if any one is inclined to take umbrage, or fancy himself
to be the person I describe, because in some points he may trace a
resemblance, I trust he will exonerate me entirely as he reads, and
believe me when I tell him that "It is not you I mean."

There are no such characters in reality as Niggeree, Carolina Joe,
General Flagcroucher, or Professor Killmann--remember that always as
you read; they are entirely imaginary characters, or, rather, embodied
principles of what might influence the future of this great island, if
lawlessness was allowed to run riot and religion and order were not in
the majority.

Yet I will, however, admit that there was a Toto at Hula. He may be
known to those who have been there, particularly to those who may have
been unjustly blamed for his iniquities.

Regarding the geographical correctness of locality, however, the
truth of colouring, and the habits and customs of the people, I have
been most rigid, and never for a moment permitted myself a licence;
also I do not think that I have exaggerated the murders. If the
incidents did not happen while I was there, that they have taken
place, and are taking place weekly, a glance at the Government records
of massacres and atrocities will convince any one; so that, although I
escaped hurtless, it might have been otherwise I will at once admit.

Besides my own observations, I was indebted while in the Papuan Gulf
for much information from Mr. Andrew Golchi, botanist and naturalist
at Port Moresby, who placed his diaries and experiences of ten years
at my disposal; Mr. Cuthbertson and party of surveyors; Mr. Bruce and
the young missionary, Mr. Savage, at Murray Island; Father Virgirce at
Yule Island; Messrs. Gerise and Moresby, of York Island; Mr. Kissick,
of Teste Island; and Mr. A. Morton, Curator of the Museum, Hobart, a
New Guinea traveller; besides many of the native teachers and traders
with whom I sojourned.

His Excellency Sir John Douglas and his representative, Mr. Milman,
at Thursday Island, also gave me the benefit of their experiences, and
authenticated the sketches and notes which I had taken.

The Rev. Mr. and Mrs. Lawes I only saw for a few minutes at Port
Moresby, as they had just returned from a coasting cruise; but when I
reached England I had the benefit of many hints and suggestions from
the Rev. James Chalmers, whom I met in London; also a very great
amount of valuable information from my lately-gained friend, the Rev.
Dr. S. Macfarlane, LL.D., whose long experience in the South Seas and
New Guinea fully warrants the trust which I place in his criticisms.

Details of the discovery of two important rivers since I left the
Papuan coast I received from my friend James Burns--to whom I beg to
dedicate my story--Mr. Theodore Burns being the explorer, for
particulars of which discovery see note on New Rivers.

I admire the missionaries, as I admire the traders, when I can place
myself on their different platforms and look as they do; they are
working faithfully and well in their different ways to civilize the
savages. Yet this is not a missionary tale, but the words of one who
believes as Professor John Ruskin believes, that what the savage gains
from religion and civilization is not equivalent to his own benefits
when left alone.

On the whole, I think we civilized savages murder as much and as
atrociously as the so-called savages do in dark lands, even though we
may not eat our victims; and, aside from this evil, I fancy that they
are happier in their simplicity than we are with our vaunted
civilization.

Still, since we have souls to be redeemed, and if the penalty of
ignorance is damnation, then it is the duty of the missionary to
enlighten the dark races, and ours as Christians, to help them to our
utmost in their noble work.

Looking on the savages of New Guinea from a material standpoint, I
think that they are much more comfortable as they now are than are our
English poor--indeed, than many of our English middle-classes--who are
fighting so madly for an existence, while they, the natives, bask away
luxuriously on their coral-fringed and sunny strands.

Professor John Ruskin, the philanthropist and friend of mankind in
general, wrote to me on my arrival in England, saying, "I hope you
intend to print some record of the kindness of the native race, whom I
suppose our Christianity will now soon extinguish with gunpowder and
brandy."

I have endeavoured to give a faithful record of the natives and their
kindness, when not abused, towards strangers; and I trust to be able
to tell further, at some future time, of their traits. As yet I can
vouch that I never saw a native of New Guinea touch intoxicants; they
are simple in their diet and drink, and have no more taken to our
firewater than they have taken to our other habits. But how long it
will be before they lose their simplicity, become converts, and
finally are extinguished, is but a question of time.

We who are the favoured ones of earth teach the naked races how to
dress themselves before we bury them. It is the legend of the devil
and Adam being constantly enacted under the specious title,
Civilization.

THE AUTHOR.



Chapter I. An Island in the Torres Straits.



A DARK night, as nights are in the tropics before the moon rises, in
spite of those dense clusters of stars which stain, like milk-
splashes, the intense blue-black of that vault above, or the more
isolated worlds which hang, as if they were electric globes let down
by invisible wires, from that vast ceiling, whose extremity the eye
cannot reach!

Very bright those irregularly hung lamps; very close-set, and
sparkling, those clusters of gems beyond, very filmy the milk-stains
upon that blue--black roof; but the space is too mighty to be
illuminated even by those myriad lights, their effulgence is sucked up
by the miles of atmosphere, and so on the shores, and in the jungle,
darkness grapples with form and wins the battle; the eye looking up
becomes dazed with that studded diamond vault and blinded to all
beneath.

It is an island within that great barrier reef, which extends from
above Keppel Bay to Cape York, and along the Torres Straits to the
Papuan Gulf, making eternal summer and calm seas--one of those islands
raised by the insect creators of continents, who are for ever working,
regardless of time; one of the many formed, or in process of
formation, which greet the anxious glance of the mariner every few
miles of his dangerous navigation through those uncertain waters upon
which the sun warmly smiles, and shows in the varied shades of
delicious green, the spots to be avoided; and, in the threads of
amethyst, the narrow passages to trust for safety. There are no charts
to guide the mariner as yet, only the sharp eyes and the steady head;
for woe to the unlucky master who pins his faith to a chart, when his
vessel sails within these reefs.

This island has been long established as a place of call for vessels
going pearl-fishing, bêche-de-mer, or copra collecting, and is
inhabited by a tribe of blacks who give hospitality and work to the
traders who have settled amongst them, and who feed them and teach
them the refinements of civilization, in return for hospitality and
assistance in their business.

The island is well protected from rough seas by the great coral wall
which lies about two miles to westward, and is guarded from the near
approach of uninvited visitors by hummocks and sharp-edged fringes
which are covered at low-tide and surround the smooth sand-shore,
layer within layer, with fathomless depths of ocean between, until the
innermost fringe is passed. Then a long spread of shallow water has to
be waded over, before dry land is reached, so that the trader, as he
sits in his bungalow with his friendly servant-hosts behind him, need
only wait and finish his pipe, if the visitor chances to be one of
those interfering personages, until the unwary vessel safely runs and
sticks against the protecting reef-walls, when he sallies forth to
rescue the wrecked crew and claim the wreckage according to the very
just and proper law of flotsam.

On this dark night there were several small stranger vessels lying
about alongside Carolina Joe's own craft. (Carolina Joe was the title
this protector of these friendly natives bore amongst his friends and
admirers.) As these vessels were all safely at anchor-age, we must
conclude that they had been here before, and did not come for hostile
purpose.

Neat little craft, rocking under the starlight, and breaking the
reflection of the sparkles below with their hulls and hull-shadows,
but with nothing definite as regards outline or proportion.

On shore--along the dark strips of sand discernible only because of
the more intense shadow of the palm and croton groves behind and the
jet-like reflecting blackness of the water lapping softly against dead
shells and broken fragments of coral--a heavy breath breaking upon the
silence along with a faint cocoa-nut odour, apprises one of a native
gliding past. The sand is smooth, and hard, and pleasant to the bare
feet where it is not covered with those spider-spiked shells; and from
the shallow parts you step upon a smooth warm plain, for the night is
still too young for the heavy dews to cool the ground; thence into the
copse, guided by the faint red glow from the drying-house. This gleam
comes through the crevices of the corrugated iron sides of the shed,
or further on from the hut, where the king and his family wait awake
for the orders of their friend and master, the trader, and where they
silently squat and smoke. The red fire from their pipes, and the
sombre glow from their neglected log alone break upon the blackness of
the night.

It is all quiet and indefinite until a splash of oars, from the
rocking boats, breaks in upon the repose, a gentle splashing of
paddles used by dextrous hands, and the huts are deserted, while the
lonely shore is peopled as if by magic.

They are landing something from the boats, and, without a word
spoken, the object is taken out, lifted by two indistinct forms, and
carried forward, while the canoe drifts back again as the crowd
disappear into the general dark envelopment of night, and once more
all is still.



Chapter II. Captain Cook's Telescope.



"THIS yer telescope, mates, belonged to Capting Cook."

"Coudn't ha' believed it?"

"No, there's not a many as can."

Carolina Joe, as host, was exhibiting the curiosities of his bungalow
to the brother traders, who were now sharing his hospitality for the
night, some on their way to New Guinea, some to the islands and
stations scattered over Torres Straits, devoted to pearl-fishing,
copra or bêche-de--mer collecting, bird or curio hunting, &c.

The etceteras of their profession included various modes of making
money, which may appear in the course of their conversations, and so
need not be here explained.

Joe held in his brown paws a large copper and canvas-bound telescope,
much battered, though hardly of ancient enough pattern to have done
service in the Endeavour; yet, as these honest old sailors, who
formerly scoured the seas and now bask their declining days under the
cocoanuts, are proverbial for their rigid adherence to facts, it might
have been Cook's.

"This is how it happened, mates: ye all remember the Polly going on
the reefs half a mile from here?"

"That night you lighted the fires at the wrong place, you old beach--
coomber," observed, in a very gruff voice, a swarthy young man, from a
corner where he sat panikin in hand, almost doubled up from the
remains of the malaria fever.

"That was the night, Nig! only you're all out about the fires, I
knowst nothink what-some-ever about these yer fires; the natives had a
wake on that night, and I was sound asleep until they called me up
next morning, and no one can say that I didn't do my duty as a man; I
saved the crew, as ye all know, and lent them my boat Daisy to carry
them to Thursday Island."

"That's true, Joe, the same smack that you afterwards sold the French
missionary with, and which they have christened Pope Pius; and you say
you are a good catholic."

"I am a darned freethinker, as all the world knows; I've got all the
books on it in that yer chest along o' my revolver and 'munition, and
I only did my duty by that yer Daisy. Didn't these missionary chaps
want to get to Yule Island after they were refused permits to land on
New Guinea, and didn't they see the cursed smack afore they bought
her? that was fair and square dealing, wasn't it? Did they ever ax me
one question as to her age, or state of repair? and didn't they offer
me right away 80l. for her, and no questions axed, and was I going to
be a darned old fool and tell them she was rotten? Not likely, boys;
Carolina Joe wasn't raised in old Virginia to come it that way;
besides, didn't I get the boys to paint it all neat over inside and
out without being axed in the bargain?"

Joe paused a moment, flourishing Captain Cook's relic in his right
hand and his empty panikin in the other, and glaring savagely in the
direction of the doubled-up "Nig," who only smiled quietly, without
replying.

"That's all correct, Joe; you did, even before they saw her, as soon
as you heard they wanted a boat," cried out a very slender,
gentlemanly young fellow dressed in spotless white, with an
aristocratic and clean-cut face, who had twice filled his can from the
bottle while Joe was speaking--"but go on about the telescope."

Joe swaggered over to the deal plank which did service for a table,
emptied about half a bottle of whisky into his panikin, drank it
straight away without winking, and, drawing the hairy back of his hand
across his grizzly beard, went over through the soft sand to his
former place beside his sea-chest, and continued:--

"Wall, along o' the other articles in that er wreck (and precious
little there war, for all the trouble as I took over it)."

"What trouble, Joe?" asked the young man, filling up for the fourth
time, and emptying the bottle as he inquired.

"Landing it on the safest reef in course; didn't I watch her all
that cursed arternoon a-coming on afore the wind with the infernal
moon--soon blowing in my teeth, and not a drop o' liquer to keep the
ague back."

"Oh you did, did you?"

"Of course a man's got to keep his eyes about him, or them niggers
allays bungle business, an' not a wink o' sleep that night I got,
thinking they'd get off after all."

"But I thought you were fast asleep that night," observed Nig
softly.

"Asleep, who do you think could plant the fires right if I fell
asleep?"

A general grin passed round the company, as one little girlish-
looking man, with bright blue eyes and fair moustache, drew with his
knife corkscrew the corks from three more bottles of whisky, while the
others held out their panikins for him to fill up, and then they
settled down to listen, and light their pipes.

"Cartainly Queen Ine is purty smart, and can do most anything I
teach her to do, but it's best to superintend delicate work oneself."

"Quite right, Joe! Quite right," responded, in a thin voice, Captain
Allan Collins, with his head on one side; he wore it thus, not from
choice or habit, but from necessity, having had it nearly severed at
one time by natives, the same cause which produced his piping voice.

"But about that telescope, Joe; how do you know it to have been
Cook's?" asked the youth with the clean-cut features.

"Because after we got that wreck broken up, I found it amongst the
coral under her hull, and because his name war written on it; of
course, mates, it warn't very plain, yet I could just make it out,
though the friction had wore off the date. I could just make out the
letters, 'COOK,' a way he had o' spellin' his name, I believe."

"Not an uncommon way of spelling cook. Might it not have belonged to
some ship's cook--?"

This from the youth with an air of innocence, upon which the others
laughed.

"Ship's cook! When did ye ever hear of a cook with a telescope like
this?"

"It certainly would be superfluous furniture to cart about, but
let's see it; is the name still on it?"

"Wall, you see, Queen Ine is fond o' polishing up brass work, and I
guess that's how it wore off, but it was there when we fust had it,
wasn't it, 'Spears'?"

"Oh, yes! right under where the canvas now is, we covered it so to
preserve it," responded Spears, from his chin.

"After it was gone," murmured Nig sadly, puffing out a little smoke
from his nearly finished pipe.



Chapter III. In the Bungalow.



CAROLINA JOE'S abode, where this little convivial gathering of
friends were now seated, was built after the style of the native
houses upon the islands; a hut with posts and rafters of bamboo,
lathed with split cane, walls and roof thatched with fronds of the
bamboo and tattered fringes of the banana, a sloping roof with the
ragged ends of the thatch hanging down between the bars of split cane,
walls hung at odd places with tortoiseshells strung together and ready
for transport, native curios, spears, shields, and ornaments, all
there for sale purposes, yet giving the interior a most picturesque
appearance. A rough form had been made by "Spears," formerly a ship's
carpenter, but who now represented the handy man of the island, a
table likewise made from a roughly sawn board, and which, with three
sea-chests, comprised the furniture of the bungalow--that is with the
exception of the bamboo couches; with these the place was plentifully
supplied, three sides of the room being taken up with them; broad
springy couches, each capable of accommodating six or eight people,
and where Joe was wont to loll and smoke during the days when there
was no drink in the locker, for on these balmy islands whisky does not
come every day in the week, nor even once in the month. Sometimes
months passed before the ordered case arrived, and when it did turn
up, one day was sufficient to empty it, the rest of the long interval
having to be spun out with cocoa-nut milk. To-night Joe was merry, for
three long-delayed cases had arrived all at once, so that the result
meant a glorious orgie while they lasted.

The bungalow had been raised on the sands which served for floor and
carpet, soft fine dry sand into which the feet sank deeply; like all
native houses the door-way served to admit fresh air and light, so
that while by day the sun glared outside, and beat upon the sea shores
until they felt nearly red hot, or slanted in long white rays between
the fronds of palms, here there was always a cool and constant
twilight.

A pleasant home to rest in, amid tropic heats, in spite of the
multitudinous life which swarmed and throve amidst that tawny coloured
thatch; scorpions, centipedes, spiders and snakes--one gets used to
all that as one gets used to mosquitoes, and soon forgets the dangers
and discomforts; but upon the stranger, the flop-flap of the poisonous
snake moving about at nights after mice and vermin inside the sleeping
quarters, has a disturbing effect. The thud of the large centipede, as
it drops from the roof upon your face or shoulders is apt to cause a
shudder, while the sight of a huge hairy-limbed tarantula lazily
moving towards you, not many feet off, does not conduce to speedy
repose, any more than the buzzing and stinging of the myriad
mosquitoes will do; yet to all these discomforts time brings the cure,
and after all it is astonishing how little trouble there is about even
misery when one gets used to it.

A pair of tight boots, or the parting with a dear friend, shape in
alike by degrees.

This night the mosquitoes swarmed in myriads; spotted fiends bred in
the mangroves and making night musical with their revengeful ditties;
in the soft sands one being pricked in the foot never felt sure
whether it was the bite of a centipede or the sharp edge of a shell;
from the slender rafters heavy webs swung undisturbed, the whole only
faintly lighted by the single tallow-candle which flared in the night
breeze and overflowed the square sides of the empty gin-bottle which
served as a candlestick. But those assembled were long accustomed to
sights like this; indeed this represented Elysium after the close
cabins of their little vessels, and they spread out their scantily
clad limbs with an air of unaccustomed comfort.

A ruddy illumination of bronzed faces, bare arms and legs, and
exposed chests, as they sat there gradually getting mellow and
disconnected in their articulation, while fresh corks were drawn, and
young cocoanuts emptied of their fluid.

These young cocoanuts are only used for the milk, which serves
instead of water to quench thirst or dilute spirits, although on
nights like this, and in such company, like the water used in the
punch-brew of the "Noctes" club, one cocoanut went much further than a
bottle of "Tappit Hen."

The apartment was about eighteen feet by twelve, so that the company
sat close and the single candle served to make objects discernible
while at the same time flinging heavy shadows behind and above.

Spears and Danby (the youth with the aristocratic features) half
reclined upon one of the couches in the shady side of the room,
dangling their naked limbs, with their pijamas rolled up to the thighs
for the sake of wading freely, and dipping their feet into the soft
loose sand which they caught up between their toes and scattered about
while they drank and smoked.

By the plank-table, and crouched together leaning his bare brown arms
against it, sat "Nig," or Niggeree, as the natives called him; sallow,
thin, and looking undersized and weary, from the after prostration of
the fever he had gone through, that wasting fever caught at Port
Moresby: to-night he appeared to be about twenty-six; a weak young
man, speaking in a low dejected tone, and with great effort; he was
clean shaven, with regular features and eyes black and filmy; he only
spoke when addressed or when chaffing Joe, and then said as little as
he could as if finding the attempt too much for his strength; his pipe
had gone out and he did not attempt to light it afresh, and when he
lifted his can to his lips he merely tasted the contents, and put it
down again with a contortion as if it was medicine.

Near him, on one of the sea-chests, sat Captain Allan Collins, with
his head on one side, displaying a long thin neck, and sharing the
seat with the German engineer, Hans Helfich; while on the ground
amongst and half buried in the sand squatted the short and burly
figure of that old sea--dog, Captain MacAndrews, master of the little
reef-steamer Thunder, which now lay to leeward of the island.

The group here gathered together, and unconsciously striking up
picturesque attitudes within this native-built hut, might well have
been taken for a pirate crew holding their nightly orgies ashore under
the wind-shaken flame of this candle--perhaps in drawing the picture
it would be better to substitute a flaring torch for the flickering
candle, only that this was a hut built of easily-ignited material
instead of being a sea--rover's cave, while the gentlemen assembled
were only honest traders and idlers out for an adventure instead of
being bold buccaneers, so perhaps it is as well in this case to adhere
to strict facts, prosy though they be.

Niggeree being nearest the candle, caught upon his swarthy, if wan,
neck and chest, the strongest glare, and as he had turned to speak to
Hector, the young man with the fresh girlish face, his profile was
completely in shadow, as were his lower limbs and left shoulder, a
trifle brown where the skin shone out, with an edge of dingy yellow
undershirt torn open at the neck for air.

Hector stood still drawing corks, but tasting only from the half--
cocoanut, which he had made a cup of, for while he diligently filled
out for the others, as strong as they desired, he took his cocoa-milk
unadulterated, as Joe took his spirits.

The light shone full upon Hector, and revealed a fair young face,
which the sun had only slightly reddened, and a breast white as a
child's flesh below the abrupt line made by the shirt when buttoned; a
golden moustache, and limpid blue eyes, where truth might have dwelt
serene; his voice soft and caressing, his manner deprecating, as if he
felt an intruder, and his age seemingly about twenty-one. As he
replied to "Nig's" dejected question with a few earnest words, as if
his soul spoke through his lips, a stranger might wonder at so much
innocence wandering so far from home; but none of the company seemed
surprised. In reality he was twenty-nine, and if the shirt had been
thrown a little wider, discoloured blue blotches would have revealed
where the spear or bullet had pierced; also the table cast too heavy a
shadow over the bare lower limbs to reveal the many scars there.
Hector, with the girl's face and small body, had fought his way into
respect with these rough traders of the Torres Straits, while the man-
eating savages of the Fly River paid as much attention to his tender
words as to a pistol-shot.

Joe, as master of the premises, was monopolizing the conversation,
and no small portion of the grog. As a rule, he was said to be equal
to a case of whisky or brandy by himself at one square sitting, and
wild stories were afloat as to how long he had continued to consume
this daily case before he began to see snakes about. When three parts
of the case, i.e. six bottles, had been safely stowed away, they said
he was getting good company. But, as has been stated, he had had a
long spell of enforced abstinence, and now, although only the contents
of a case and a half had gone the round, he was already getting
disconnected in his reminiscences.

"I was reared in Virginia, boys, and all our family were Federals.
Would you like to hear how I lost my mother?--"

Captain Allan Collins was remarking to Hans Helfich and the burly
MacAndrews, whose clustering grey curls surrounded the upper portion
of a head and beard which might have served as the model for Achilles
as it gleamed out in half-tones against the intensity of the shadow
behind, that although admiring Niggeree's principles in general, he
considered him a little too quick with his Winchester and cutlas,
while the Irish mate of the Thunder was engaged amidst the tobacco fog
singing an Irish legend entitled "Brian on the Moor;" so that no one
replied, or expressed the slightest curiosity about the maternal
affliction which had befallen their host.

"My mother, boys, was the natural but unacknowledged wife of the late
General Jackson; so that I, being her only child, oughter ha' been his
heir--"

"I don't approve of shooting the moment a native pokes his head down
the gangway," said Captain Collins; "Nig does. Give them time to
declare themselves, and after that, fire or don't fire, as the case
may be."

The mosquitoes were being driven out by degrees as the atmosphere
became loaded with tobacco-smoke; still the Irish legend was chaunted
behind the veil, while no one paid any attention except to his own
voice.

"Wall, it was just afore the war that the Injuns came down and
scalped the whole twelve on 'em, leaving me, in a manner, an orphan."

"What twelve?" asked Danby, the aristocratic-featured youth, simply.

"What twelve did you think, ye blasted fool? not the twelve apostles,
surely?"

"Well, how could I know unless you tell me?"

"My poor brothers and sisters, of course, along with their dam,
fought, Jeruselam! but they did sell their blessed lives dear, yet it
warnt no use."

"But I thought you were the only child and heir of General Jackson?"

Joe stood for a moment dazed, as if he had lost something, while he
passed his hand over his brow and threw back his grizzly hair, then
with a drunken laugh he picked it up,--

"Don't you know Amerikay's the place for divorces cheap? and could my
mother not marry again if she liked, and have twenty children if she
blarned well liked to? What's to prevent her, I want to know--?"

"I don't often shoot," said Captain Collins, "but when I shoot, I
kill; and, take my word on it, that's about the only way to get
respect from the natives of New Guinea."



Chapter IV. Queen Ine.



"KILLMANN! Who says he didn't shoot? Ax the natives? I tell ye what,
when he was up that 'ere coast, if he saw a man walking along the
sands with a fine mop on him and some beads which he thought would
look well amongst his curios, he thought no more of putting up his
rifle and potting that native, than he did o' bringing down a bird of
but then I always did say that he was like Nig there, just a little
too reachy."

Captain Allan Collins was having the best of it, for he had got an
audience while Joe had dropped upon the sands nearly helpless, with
hardly voice enough left even to blaspheme.

"Ten o'clock, boys, and Carolina Joe as drunk as Tam o' Shanter; time
we were all aboard if we mean to be up to time to-morrow morning,"
said a voice from the fog as it parted and revealed a figure about
five foot eight, slim built and gentlemanly, with an olive tinted face
and close--clipped black beard.

"All right, Bowman, I'm ready," responded Danby, getting up as calmly
as if no whisky had crossed his clean-cut lips, although the boy had
been supplied twice every round.

At the same moment the burly sea model of Achilles struggled to his
feet, as did the others.

"Get up, Orphan Jackson," said Danby, giving the prostrate Joe a
heavy slap with his bare foot, "here comes your father-in-law, with
two of your royal brothers, and you haven't shown us Queen Ine and the
last batch of pie-bald twins yet."

Carolina Joe, who had not lain above five minutes, rose as if he had
been sleeping twelve hours, and apparently shook the drink-stupor as
easily from him as a man might shake the night mists away in the early
morning, while at the same moment an old native appeared in the
doorway attired in a soldier's faded red coat minus the buttons, a
tall white hat, and by way of under garb, a blue rag tied round his
waist; he was white-bearded, grey-skinned, and bleary-eyed, and as he
stood in the dim light of the guttering candle looked like a mummy
dressed for a masquerade, while close behind him appeared two stalwart
young blacks, bearing between them the third case of drink.

"What's in that case, Bowman?" inquired Joe, in a surly tone.

"Gin, Joe!" answered Bowman. "It's all we have now left aboard."

"It'll do," growled Joe. "Break the thing up and let us taste it."

Little Hector, ever ready with his sharp knife, stooped to prise open
the case, while Joe continued, turning to the ancient king,--

"Where's the women, Primrose?"

"All gone sleep, Joe."

"An' Queen Ine?"

"Waiting down by beach."

"Fetch her, I've promised to show her to my mates, d'ye hear! an'
don't forget the kids."

"She say you too dam drunk, and she no come to-night," said the king
solemnly.

"You go down and tell her I want her, an' no humbug."

"All right!" replied his majesty, stalking out with an offended air
as if at not being honoured enough.

"Here!" bawled out Joe, who seemed to know what the matter was.

The king returned, and stood solemnly waiting with his two sons
behind him.

"Boys, this yer is my father-in-law, and the king of this island, and
these yer are two of the princes, so if ye've got a stick o' baccy to
give him, give it without more ado, and let him fetch his daughter."

Bowman and Danby pulled out some sticks of trader's tobacco, and
bestowed them upon his majesty, who in return gave them his paw to
shake, and then went out to fetch in the rebellious spouse of their
host.

Meanwhile the case of gin was opened, one of the bottles produced,
and uncorked, while Joe, now once more sober and genial, drank a
parting peg along with his friends; he took a full measure to himself,
but was economical as regards the measure of his friends.

"You've had nigh enough o' my grog, mates, this bout; I'll keep the
rest for a nightcap arter you're aboard, for the Lord only knows when
the next lot will come to hand."

Joe had reached that rebounding stage, which often succeeds the
generosity of the drunkard.

"I suppose you want to have a good old spree with your father-in-law
to-night, Joe," said Bowman, laughing over the meanness of the trader.

"No fears, I don't encourage drinkin' on this yer island, I give them
tobacco, but not a drop o' grog, that's too precious."

Queen Ine appeared at this moment with her month-old twins, sullen,
and being pushed forward by her father.

"My wife, mates, and the two last kids."

"Hallo! Joe, they are the same as last lot, one half caste and one
pure black," cried Danby, looking over them, while the mother stood
with sullen brows, and casting ominous glances towards her lord and
master.

"That's the curious part on it, boys, Queen Ine always fetches twins,
and always that way, one black and one white."

Queen Ine was a magnificent specimen of womanhood, tall, black as
coal, upright, and, where exposed, with flesh as firm as marble; she
was attired in the loose blue single shirt-gown which the missionaries
give to the native women as a token of civilization. It was fastened
at the shoulders and open in the neck, the rest falling in the
graceful clinging folds with which sculptors drape their goddesses;
she now stood half--shrouded in that rank mist through which the
expiring candle shot up irregular flashes, that barely reached her,
with that sullen look upon her heavily-bent brows and that lurid gleam
in her dark eyes, while beside her, like a showman at a fair
exhibiting the points of a leopard, hung the half-intoxicated ruler of
her life, with his dirty, torn, red shirt open to the waist, his
ragged patched trousers, and his bestial expression as he laid his
heavy brown hairy arm across that satin-lustred jet-black shrinking
shoulder; for he had half torn her gown from her as she stood
passively but sternly under his coarse caresses. The two tokens of her
own degradation were lying against her breasts, and were held
carelessly up with one strong, lovely-modelled arm. She appeared to
represent an ebony statue of indignant Nature, protesting mutely
against that bestiality of so-called civilization, which degrades
where it cannot slay.

Her father, like an ape, and her two brothers ranged beside her
emotionless, seemed to be sunk to the level of her white husband, but
she stood like a ruined queen.

"That's the sort of woman for a sailor, boys; I can leave her to look
after this island when I'm away, and not one dare disobey; look on
these arms, why, she could fell an ox with her club."

Queen Ine stood passive and scowling as he lifted her disengaged bare
arm to show it to his friends, and as he let it go it dropped limply
by her side, while his drunken friends pinched the firm flesh, and
praised her up according to their lights. The candle leapt up wildly,
before it sent its flame to air, and showed the whole scene with an
intense flame, which did not even screen the bloated tarantula on the
rafters: then, as they turned with one impulse to stagger out to the
stars and freshness of the night, the degradation of the picture was
mercifully blotted out, and Joe was left in darkness, with his case of
gin and the woman who called him master.



Chapter V. Bêche-De-Mer Working.



IT is impossible to lie in bed after the sun rises in the tropics (no
matter how late one goes to sleep), but pleasure ineffable to get up
as the light appears and before the stars are quite quenched by the
approaching flood of light.

Next morning the scene on the beach was a busy one, natives thronging
in their canoes, laden with water-casks and fruit for the vessels
about to sail, little boys and girls tumbling about the waves, or
trying to fish with their pronged fish-spears, women with their
infants sitting on the sands, and a constant passing to and fro of
dark semi-nude figures, or sunburnt seamen.

Behind the slueing cluster of smacks lay the more massive, if less
picturesque, outline of the little steamer Thunder, with her black
sides and heavy Dutch-built stern, and her painted funnels emitting
their gaseous vapours, which became discoloured as they were wafted
towards that opal space overhead, and spread in filmy melting clouds
upon the otherwise cloudless sky.

The natives had been awake and working even while the stars were
still lustrous, under the direction of King Primrose, and his stern-
browed daughter, Queen Ine; but the master lay grunting and tossing on
his bamboo couch in that uneasy after-slumber which ever precedes the
awakening from the dreamless lethargy of the drunkard.

Joe was right about the mother of his children; whether she loved or
hated him was a matter of little consequence, so that she kept the
islanders in good order. This she did with a devotion and energy which
might well be the zealous outcome of love; the natives obeyed her
orders with alacrity and without a murmur; even her father, as he took
up his position of august dignity on the sands, was fain to skip
nimbly out of her way, as with club in hand, and gown tucked up, she
swiftly passed from group to group of the workers.

A constant chattering went on as they laboured, but Queen Ine only
muttered a word now and again, or lifted her club threateningly over
some skulker, yet none appeared to wait upon its descent, for when she
drew near they bent down instantly, with the obsequity of slaves to
pick up the bag or cask they had been inclined to pass before, and
energetically rushed to the spring or boat waiting to receive it.

Her six children were on the sands under the charge of an old black
woman, and at times when they came near her, or clung to her skirts,
she caught them impatiently by the arm, and flung them from her as if
they were puppies or kittens, and when she did so they ran back to the
old nurse, but never cried, as English children would have done, over
their rebuff and fall.

Six children, all naked, and of assorted sizes, four boys and two
girls; three of the boys were of a rich deep brown, while the other
boy and the two girls were copper tinted, a shade or two lighter than
the sun-tanned skin of their father.

Pretty children, who rolled over one another in the bright cool
dawn, half-buried at times in the grey sand, like young leopard pups--
three pairs of twins, with the month old ones lying alone mutely on
their backs, and seeming to look at the wonderful pearly-toned
immensity above; the aged nurse with close grizzled hair sat heedless
of all around, preparing some yams which she held upon a flat canoe-
shaped wooden basin and put, when peeled, into an earthenware pot.

Not far from the aged one, a fire was burning on the beach, and one
or two girls sitting round it, also cutting up yams, taro, and hard
bananas, with their platters and pots beside them. On one side a woman
crouched with her hands over her face and her head bent, rocking
backwards and forwards and moaning piteously, at which no one appeared
to pay any attention, although the eyes of the others looked bleary as
if with weeping.

There had been a death in the village the day before, and the others
had done their lamenting; this one, however, having been at the other
side of the island, had only just arrived to hear the sad news, and
now alone sat weeping.

It was the custom for every one to do a stated amount of lamenting,
so she was only performing her duty, while the others went on calmly
with their daily work and chattered amongst themselves as the glorious
light grew more intense and rosy behind the dark thicket of crotons,
and inside some shady hut in the village over within that dark
thicket, some heart lay moaning, yet not according to custom.

The bêche-de-mer prepared weeks before against the coming of this
little trading-steamer Thunder, had been mostly transferred on board,
with the water casks filled from the spring and emptied into the
ship's iron tanks, before the sun lifted its dazzling disc above the
crotons; it was all subdued and silvery, a coral island done in soft
grey tones, with the exception of the rose-madder gleam eastward over
by the rocks, crotons, and palm-tops, and the different dingies had
landed their human freights of blacks and whites, who now mingled
together on the sands as the canoes and dingies hobnobbed on the
waters.

Five minutes more the sun would be in possession, and that
comparative hush banished for the day. Joe came down from his
bungalow, unwashed and dry-mouthed, cursing the light and d----g all
the eyes which that light was bathing, and the world in general as he
staggered towards his guests of the night previous, attired as he lay
down in his ragged bepatched pants and buttonless dingy red flannel
shirt, while Queen Ine stood waiting silently with her subjects for
his further orders, and, as she waited, suckling one of the twins
which she had snatched up from the ground at the sight of her husband;
it was the black baby she had taken up, the other lay still looking up
at the sky, his mouth stuffed with one end of a cowrie shell.

"----my eyes," observed Joe in husky tones as he came up, "have ye
got all the cargo aboard?"

"All aboard, Joe, but what about that other lot you said you had?"
answered and inquired Bowman, who stood attired in a gay suit of
pijamas rolled up to the thighs and armpits, while young Danby, with
his pale, thin, aristocratic face, calmly sucked at his briar-wood
pipe, attired in a waistband of Turkey red alone, his slender limbs
and body gleaming whitely amongst the sunburnt and black surroundings.

"You'll have to come for it over to the other island; it ain't much
out of your way, and I'll go with you arter we've got summut to drink
and eat. What have ye got aboard?"

"Fresh mutton, a keg of brandy, and a good king-fish caught this
morning," replied Bowman.

"That'll do, it's a long time since I tasted anything fresh," grunted
Joe; "but have ye no whisky?"

"Not a drop; but you can bring one of your own bottles; we left you
half a case last night, besides the gin."

"I'm keeping that as a medicine against accidents; Queen Ine might be
bad, or the kids, so we'll just do with your brandy."

"As you will," responded Bowman, who knew his man. "Fetch your own
dingey and go aboard; I want to see what Collins and Hector have got
before we start, so go aboard and we'll follow you."

"All right," said Joe. Then turning to where his wife stood with her
black baby, he said, "Look ye here, Queen Ine, I'm going away for a
couple of days, so you'll see to the island while I'm away."

Queen Ine nodded silently.

"An' don't have any humbug or laziness. The cargo in the smoke-house
will be ready when the sun goes down. Get that other lot over yere"
(he pointed to a black mound lying a little distance from them on the
sands, at which she again nodded) "put in to-night, it'll be about
ready by the time I get back."

Joe did not waste time kissing, as he turned his back on his spouse
and prepared to step into the dingey, which he shoved off.

"An' look ye here, wench," he shouted, resting on his oars with one
foot on the gunwale, "send Sam over to the island with Fairy to bring
me home again; he'd better start at once as the wind is fair."

Queen Ine once more acknowledged with a bend of her sombre head that
she understood, and walked straightway towards the croton thicket, as
Joe, now having shoved his boat into deep water, sat down, with both
oars dipping into the blue-grey waters and his back against the
steamer towards which he was bound; while Bowman and Danby turned into
their own boat, which their Malay boys were now pushing along by the
shallow sands.

A second more and the sea will be gleaming quick-silver; the palm--
fronds still heavy with the dews, which lie like hoar-frost upon the
broad, umbrella-like leaves of the undergrowth and grasses, hang
limply down underneath the refreshing weight; the spiders' webs which
swing, hammock-fashion, from branch to branch, are like filagree work
in dull white metal. All the shadows are purple with the vapours of
the earth that steal upwards and blanch the local tints of green, the
flowers scarlet and blue upon the shrubs and creepers, are drooping
like half-closed lids. There is an air of slumber over all; on the
cool grey sands, where the tinted and spiked shells are lying
unheeded, are lovely shapes and prismatic splashes of pure and broken
colours, like the fresh setting of a palette in a shady studio; the
sea, without glitter enough to make a shadow, lies a subtle gradation
of blue-grey to bleached fawn, the rocks and exposed brown edges of
the reefs are inane grey, with hardly a break; the natives round their
fires, some distance off, seem to pose silent and motionless, as
natives do, waiting for that intense second to elapse, and then the
Lord of Day has risen.

First a gleam of scarlet upon the bare upper branches of the bone-
like croton-trees, and a dash of glittering bronze running down the
core and quivering ribbons of the top palm branches as they seem to
shake off their sleep and stretch upwards, like arms thrown out while
wakers yawn; then over the thicket, towards which Queen Ine slowly
paces, the golden rim appears, burning the outer edges and seeming to
shrivel them downwards, as he flings mellow fire upon the edges of
ringed trunks and dew-drenched leaves.

Now the paroquettes and cockatoos begin to wake up and flutter in
that light-bath, and the sands blush till they glow like the petals of
delicate roses. Then, with the gaiety of the gathering sunbeams, Rest
seems to fly and all becomes laughter and motion; the ocean is
swarming with ripples and golden threads, and the boulders and shells
become filled with detail.

Joe, a dark spot upon the even sea, seems to be sucked into that
universal lustre, and is soon absorbed from sight. The Thunder still
holds her own, as a shadow, but her propeller, idly thrashing the
water, appears as if it were turning up silver, and the smacks, as
they dance about, to become nautilus shells; deep purple streaks
border those rosy flushes, growing to gold, and the head of the
mourner beside the yam-peelers is lifted up to greet the penetrating
ray, for she has finished her task of lamentation and now laughs, with
the tears still hanging like diamonds to her dark cheeks.

Queen Ine pauses in her walk as she reaches the inky mound of half
dry bêche-de-mer, and fumbles amongst it for a moment with the hand
that does not hold the baby, turning over the under layer of damp
slugs so that the sun may also finish his work, and as she stoops, a
sun-shaft strikes within her eyelids and turns the dark eyes to a
blood-red glare; then she raises up her square, strong shoulders and
looks at it for a moment while it beats softly against her heaving
breasts, and with a full breath of satisfaction, her stern features
somewhat relax, while she clutches the child a little tighter, and
passes on.

Half way to the thicket a figure stands in the shallow water gazing
fixedly upon the distant sea; Queen Ine, as she sees him, deviates
from her course and walks towards him, but he pays no attention to the
splashes that she sends up on either side of her as she impatiently
beats the water down with her hasty feet; he stands motionless with
his face sea-ward and his back upon her.

A weird figure, clad only in a tattered and faded blue cotton shirt,
with the arms torn from it and the extremities fluttering like banana
leaves when wind-tossed and tattered.

"Hafid," she says sternly, laying her hand upon his shoulder, and
then he turns round and faces her, and the two look at one another
without speaking.

His hair is falling loosely and wildly about his neck, straight
black hair, streaked with white, and all in a tangle, that makes it
almost appear wavy, his fine mournful features, the features of a very
young man; but his large brown eyes are filmy, and look vacantly at
her, while his hands hang meaninglessly down his sides. He has
beautiful features and delicately rounded limbs, yet they are
scratched all over, as if he had rushed through a prickly jungle; an
eastern face, such as we may see in Ceylon or India, with the pathetic
languor of a love-sick woman.

As she regards him, her stern, gloomy features become wonderfully
soft and tender, while his express nothing in return, except
melancholy, as he slowly lifts up one arm and points to sea, muttering
some words which she does not understand; then she holds her black
baby out to him, which he takes mechanically, and as she turns he
follows, like a dog, still carrying the baby, upon which he looks with
gaze as vacant as the milk--satisfied infant regards the sky above.



Chapter VI. The "Sunflower."



NIGGEREE feels a good deal better this morning; one of the
peculiarities of the fever he is slowly fighting down is that one day
you feel as if it had left entirely, and rise without a trace of the
helpless lassitude or ague which seems to be devouring your flesh and
bones; then, as you are joking upon the subject, and wondering that
you could ever feel so low-spirited, the pluck flies from you, and you
sink back sick and faint, or ice-cold and shaking, till every bone
rattles, while the perspiration pours like rain from you. No one can
tell exactly when he has got rid of it, or when it has seized upon
him; a strong, burly man in less than a week may be reduced to skin
and bone.

Last night Niggeree could not do more than sip his grog, and for a
week before that he had tasted neither food or drink, but to-day, as
he springs lightly from his close cabin, when he expected to crawl, to
greet that blushing dawn, he finds himself gifted with an appetite
both for food and drink, drink particularly, and nothing in the locker
to satisfy the tardy craving.

"Confound it all," mutters the Greek, as he prepared to pull off his
shirt so as to enjoy his morning ablutions, "if I only had been like
this last night ashore, I could have enjoyed myself and no mistake."

As he doffed his garment, a sallow, hollow and high-cheeked Malay
sailor came over to him from the bows with a bucket and line, which he
tossed over the side, bringing it up full, and emptying it with a
sluugh over his skipper, who stood with bent head and back towards the
sailor to receive this primitive shower-bath. Again and again he drew
up the bucket filled, and poured it over, until Niggeree cried,
"enough," after which he joined the other Malay, and went on with
their morning work of swabbing the deck.

As it is impossible to take a plunge in these waters on account of
the sharks, this is the only plan left to those who cannot, like Joe,
dispense with cold water.

"What you have for breakfast this morning, boss?" inquired the
Chinaman who did duty as cook on board the Sunflower,--this Niggeree
called his little vessel,--approaching his master, who was diligently
drying himself.

"No need getting anything for me, I'll go aboard the Thunder and
feed."

"All right, boss," and John returned to his post beside the little
stove which stood on the deck and served for a galley.

If Niggeree, the Greek master of the Sunflower, appeared to be a
weak and undersized man when crouching under the candle-light, a very
different figure stood out against the soft grey background of this
morning sky. By this time he had attired himself in his striped cotton
shirt and white duck pants, and sat on the edge of the water-cask
while he slowly filled his black clay pipe with the strongest of
negrohead; his black, close-set eyes now looked sharp and bright
enough, as he gazed on the shore; a low, square brow, and head well
thatched with close-cropped jet-black hair. Not having shaved for the
past few days, his chin and upper lip were grizzly and covered with
strong dark stubble; a massive chin, with lips thin and firm-clenched,
and when he smiled, as he often did, at some idea crossing his mind,
it gave him the appearance of a convict smiling upon his jailor. Once
he laughed, and muttered something to himself, and then, when his
mouth opened, it disclosed teeth jet-black, and almost worn to stumps,
which, with the blood--coloured gums and lips, told of the lime and
betel chewer. His manner was quiet and sedate, even when alone, and he
never raised his voice, even when giving an order, but his boys seemed
to be on the alert to bear it as soon as it was uttered. He had a
massive neck and square shoulders, with large arms and legs which made
the pants seem to be tight. Since the night before he seemed to have
expanded twice his size, and as the risen sun kissed him on the cheeks
and neck with the same utter want of distinction as he had touched the
satiny shoulders of Queen Ine, there was no shade of difference
between his colour and that of the bare--chested Malay who was working
near to him, only by some instinct one felt that the tawny tint of the
one was imparted by the sun, and the other was the gift of ages.

"Fetch round the dingey, Jake," he softly said, and the Malay
straightway left his task of polishing the brasswork, and hastened to
obey, while Niggeree, with his pipe now filled, struck a match, which
he held sailor-fashion in the hollow of his hand against the wind, and
having lit, puffed away seriously, looking, as he sat there with bare
arms, legs, and chest, and with head covered with a strip of turkey
red cloth, not a bad ideal of a ruthless pirate.

His vessel, like himself, lay on the waters quietly, yet as if
watchful; the hull low and painted green, sharp as a yacht, and about
as trim, differing only from the other craft lying around by its
rakish look, it being the swiftest sailor, evidently built more for
speed than carrying, a quality which before now Niggeree had found
very useful.

In these little schooners, not bigger than ordinary fishing-smacks,
and much less than some of the deep-sea herring-boats, traders took
their dangerous journeys over the rough waves of the Papuan Gulf;
drawing little water, they served best for those narrow passages and
shoaly patches of the inside reefs. A deck covered the hold, extending
from end to end almost, with the exception of the three or four feet
where the berth of the skipper was apportioned off. An awning was
raised over part of the mid-ships where, on hot and dry nights, all
slept. The berth was used only in wet weather; and when it was raining
the crew slept in the hold if it was not over-full. The crew was
mostly composed of South Sea Islanders, Malay, or China boys, with the
one white man to guide and control them, so that murder was not so
much to be wondered at as the faithful adherence of these coloured men
to their white master; and, considering the hourly risks ran from
natives and other dangers, treachery was rather a phenomenon; and if
at times these brave traders were not over scrupulous in their means
of attaining their end, still they were, as a rule, easy to please,
not hard task-masters, and, without exception, utterly regardless of
death.

Joe, in his own coarse way, fed and petted his island employés well,
perhaps finding it to his own interest to indulge them as much as
possible, while, if punishment had to be inflicted, he left it to his
wife or the king to do as they thought best; from motives of
selfishness, perhaps, he forbade them intoxicating drink, and never
interfered with the teachings or influence of the native teachers, so
that as much concord and civilization swayed this island, as on most
others subject to the softening influence of the missionary.

With Niggeree, who hitherto had no abiding-place, but traded from
station to station, staying a month or two on an island, where he
generally ruled recklessly, marrying gaily the most important female
of that part and leaving behind him an aroma of terror and respect,
the other traders found grave fault. As Collins said, he was too hasty
with his Winchester and cutlass, but withal, brave as a lion. He
seemed to regard neither God nor man; he had gone to parts as yet
unopened to the explorer or missionary, where treachery and man-eating
are constantly practised, and from where fearful legends are wafted of
massacres and practices all the more horrible because veiled in
uncertainty; yet he had always returned to contradict the stories
which the natives brought of his death, although he seldom brought his
crew intact.

From years of intercourse, he seemed more at home with the savages
than he would have been with honest citizens, all their habits and
customs had become his own, to which he added other habits, acquired
on the coast of Africa and South America, on the Solomons and South
Sea Islands, and those far-away isles of Greece from where he
originally had drifted.

The Government wanted him very badly, also the representatives of
Exeter Hall; but with the guile of his nation he had hitherto evaded
the traps they had set for him. "Niggeree," as the natives called him,
was a name well known from one end of British New Guinea to the other,
a name to send the nude and dusky warriors and their women flying into
the bush, yet not one of them would bear testimony against him, what
crimes he had committed remaining a secret between his own conscience
and their discretion.

Was he thinking of these dark acts as he quietly sat on that water-
cask, sending up the white puffs from his black clay pipe with that
illuminated warm-toned atmosphere, for he smiled that convict smile
which made him look so like a pirate, or was he concocting plans for
the future? He was down in his luck at present, for this fever had
paralyzed his energies, and he had to lie inactive for weeks, so that
it had all been outcome, and no profit, and the exchequer was getting
low. He had only a few bags of copra to give in exchange to Bowman for
his next three months' supply, and he had not yet succeeded in winning
over young Hector to join his fortune. As he suspected Hector to know
where gold was to be found easily, in spite of the doubts cast by the
colonial public on the nugget he was supposed to have discovered in
New Guinea (for that doubt of the gold is not shared by a single
person who has been in the land), he wanted to have him near him to
find out why the little fellow again sought the shores, and for other
reasons he wished him as a partner. Hector hitherto had parried his
generous offer of a free passage and a share in his investments, yet
to-day Niggeree felt hopeful that he would succeed in his persuasions.

Hector would be useful in many ways, for since his last scrape with
the Queensland Government, when he, to be able to return, had been
forced to become naturalized, he wanted a British subject to advise
him, now that he was under the power of the commissioner, and Hector
had a cool head, and might steer him safely out of many perils, and
perhaps be the scapegoat if ever the necessity arose to have one.

Yesterday he was despondent and hopeless, any man might have wrung
his nose with impunity, but to-day he felt the master, and smiled as
he looked towards the canoes and boats; so, having finished his pipe,
and the boat lying alongside with one of the South Sea Islanders at
the oar, and the Malay holding the rope, he sprang to his feet,
stretching himself full up, as he gave orders to those left aboard to
get the bags ready for transferring, and then he dropped lightly into
the dingey, taking the steering oar in his hand, while the others
dipped theirs into the transparent deep blue.

A few strokes and they were absorbed, and lost in the intense sun-
glare which had shortly before swallowed up that black spot, Joe.



Chapter VII. A Parting Glass.



BUSINESS is all arranged now, and the chops, fish, and turtle steaks
are set out on the table-cloth of the saloon, or cabin, of the
Thunder, while the Singalese steward waits meekly at the door for the
masters to take their seats.

Bowman has gone over the copra-bags of Niggeree and the pearl-shells
of Collins, and exchanged the provisions which they require for their
coming cruise, so that in the transfer, many oaths have been uttered,
if not registered amongst the representatives of western culture, and
much chattering and skurrying amongst the dusky children of
uncultivated Nature, who, with their canoes and the dingies, are still
passing between the steamers and the schooners.

Queen Ine has delivered her orders, and now brother Sam with the
smack Fairy is rapidly becoming a little speck of white upon that
distant sapphire sea, as he speeds away westward to the other station,
to await the commands of his brother-in-law.

They all--that is, all the white men on board, Hans, the engineer,
with his cockney assistant, and Gallacher, the Irish mate--come down
from the poop, and take their seats without distinction. They don't
trouble washing themselves, as they have not bothered about washing
the deck; Captain MacAndrews, with a splitting headache from the night
before, declines taking the head of the table, but sits beside his
dirty mate, in a dejected attitude, wrinkling up his Caledonian nose
with disgust at the sight of food; Bowman has just administered to him
one of his infallible pills. Niggeree sits between Hector and Collins
with his quietest air, for he has succeeded in enlisting both, Collins
by the promise of a hitherto unknown oyster-field near the mouth of
the Fly River, and Hector who has consented because Collins is going.
Hector, agreed to go because he had sailed so far with Collins, his
own vessel lying at present under repair at Thursday Island.

Joe takes up a lot of room at the foot of the table while Bowman
occupies the head, and Danby, now clad in white pants and undershirt,
with a gay-coloured sash round his waist, sits on the right-hand side
of his friend Bowman.

There are tea and coffee served with brandy instead of milk, and the
Singalese grins when he is called to pull a fresh cork, handing a slip
of paper to the caller to sign: this mild-featured native of Ceylon is
particular about these slips of paper, and always informs the signers
of other slips which they have put their mark to before but not yet
paid, and when he is reviled, he merely laughs, showing his beautiful
teeth, and retires to his sideboard.

Bowman and Danby use their knives and forks, but the others dispense
with these articles of super-refined luxury, and taking the chops from
their plates in their dirty hands, gnaw them like hungry apes.

Only the captain does not eat; he sits with both hands clutching his
grey, tangled, curly locks, and looks at his greasy plate with gloomy
preoccupation.

Outside the natives squat on the aft-hatch, catching bits of food
thrown to them from the inside, and scrambling laughingly over it; the
coloured sailors take their meal at the bows.

Over against where the captain sits, at the back of Danby, a large
rat darts out at times, and runs along the bunks with impudent
effrontery, its bright eyes glancing at the meat being devoured, as if
it could hardly restrain its wish to join in also; a singular mixture
of boldness and nervous timidity.

Looking up from his plate, the captain sees the rat and starts, then
watches it with a wild eye.

"Is that a rat?" he asks, nudging the mate and pointing to the
crevice where it is just disappearing.

"Of course it is; what did you take it to be?" replied the mate,
glancing up and then going on with his bone.

"I wasn't quite sure if it was a real one," murmured the afflicted
old man, half to himself, as his head sank again over his plate.

A loud laugh followed this murmur, as if the captain had made a
joke.

"Thought you had them, I suppose," observed Danby calmly, after the
laugh had subsided.

"You'll have them before long, young man, if you dinna put in a peg,"
said the captain savagely; and rising, he passes out to where the
natives are squatting on the hatchway, kicking two of them out of the
road, and flinging himself down wearily.

Joe, after breakfast, became more interesting than he was the night
before; told of many strange adventures down by the Spanish main,
deeds of daring which were all performed personally, some of which had
been already related in the lives of Captain Kidd and other bold
buccaneers. He evidently had been a very daring pirate in the olden
times, before he became virtuous and settled down upon his little
island.

Then they found that the water supply was short, and another trip
ashore had to be taken, and a rove round the island while the natives
fetched the water.

First to the smoke-house, which stood by the sea-shore; here they saw
the sheet-iron shed used for the purpose, with the closed doors and
ladder reaching up to the loft, where the sea-slugs were laid to
smoke, having been first sun-dried--Joe looking in below to see if the
wooden fires were all right. They sent out a great cloud of bluish
smoke as he peered inside which made all the others fall-to coughing.

This bêche-de-mer, from which they make soup much relished by the
Celestials, is prepared for the Chinese market; the fires are fed from
below, while the fish are laid upon a bamboo floor with spaces between
each spar for the smoke to pass through: about thirty-six hours are
required to smoke them thoroughly.

Outside the shed, and lying on their backs, were three large turtles,
caught the day before. After a deal of bargaining--for Joe, despite
his federal parentage, had all the instincts of his Israelitish
ancestors, for although he denied being a Jew, his nose asserted his
nationality--Bowman bought them for the ship's use, and another canoe
took them aboard.

Then through the thicket--a thicket gorgeous with rare plants and
flowers--they passed to the native village, now deserted of all but
native pets--pigs, dogs, and tame pelicans--who popped out of the way
with ungainly movements as the party looked into the empty huts. The
huts were like Joe's bungalow, only sweeter smelling; cool, dark
places, which the white glare beating upon the sands outside could not
penetrate.

They looked into all the houses excepting one, where the door was
fastened, and before which Joe planted himself with a rough delicacy
not to be expected from him.

"Not there, mates; ye see the poor critter lost her man yesterday,
and I guess she wouldn't like to be disturbed."

On shore they were all resting, and Queen Ine, with her family about
her, sat down beside the women; the Hindoo also sat near to her,
dipping his hand into the yam dish and feeding one of the twins--the
second lot--a little fellow of about sixteen months, who had crept up
close to his feeder and watched him, while he gobbled down the yams
which the other put into his mouth. He had large brown wondering eyes.

Queen Ine held her head down and looked stolidly at the brown and
white babies clinging to each breast as the party passed, while Joe
explained how the Hindoo was a maniac whom a trader had left with him
at one time as being of no use amongst his crew.

"He had been kidnapped somewhere down there about India, away from
his young wife--so a chap who once stopped here a night and
understands his lingo tells me," explained Joe. "Taken off for a short
voyage, under promise to be sent back soon, then, arter they had him
in Amerikay, they shipped him again to Sydney, telling him they were
taking him home; and then he got drifted from one ship to another,
always thinking he was going home, until he got melancholy like, as
these niggers do, and turned as you see. He's no blarmed bit o' good,
except to look arter the young ones, only he takes fits and runs off
to the woods and stops there all by himself, rushing about till he
gets too hungry to hold out longer, when he comes back and stands for
hours looking out to sea; not a stroke o' good, and feed extra. I'm
now waiting to see if I can get some one to take him off my hands; and
if I don't soon, I'll have to knock his brains out, I guess, an' be
done with it."

Joe is kind, after his nature, but this poor madman's melancholy
makes him miserable, so he wants to have done with it.

The last bottle has been opened on board by the grinning Singalese,
and they wish each other joy and a safe voyage.

The Thunder, with Bowman, Danby and Joe aboard, shrieks out her
steam whistle, at which the afrighted natives tumble into the blue
waters and swim ashore; then the anchor is hauled over the bows, and
the propeller swishes the water into white curd as she ploughs through
the deep passages of the reefs.

The Sunflower and Coral Sea follow each other with sails set, a fair
western monsoon driving them towards New Guinea and the east, and as
they recede--the Thunder sailing in the direction taken by the Fairy--
assuming the proportions and some of the shape of a little tub as it
drifts out of sight slowly. The island falls asleep in the brilliant
midday ray once more, and all seems again as it must have been before
the white man came to devour and pollute.



Chapter VIII. Hafid and His Little Friend.



THERE is not much to do on the island now that the ships have
sailed. Some have gone fishing for the sea-slugs, but they will not be
back before sundown, so that only the sun-baking mound has to be
turned--which is being looked after by two or three old women--and the
fires in the smoke-house replenished; this has also been looked after,
while most of the islanders lie basking in the hot light, and silence
broods over all.

Hafid seems amused with his little friend; at least, like a big dog,
he lies passive on his back and lets the child roll about him and do
with him as he pleases.

Queen Ine still sits looking on her children, as these natives, male
and female, will sit for hours without moving, bareheaded with the sun
beating fiercely upon them, languid and indolent until the moment
comes for them to be active, and then they can shake it off without an
effort.

King Primrose, now relieved from the presence of those whom he
wished to impress, had relaxed in his dignity, thrown aside his
military jacket and tile-hat, and now lay amongst the dilapidated
elders of his tribe, smoking the pipe of peace and comfort, while over
them all hung the noonday sun, a small concentrated heat-spot in the
midst of that deep ocean of ultramarine, while the sea and earth
sweltered, and aerial gases rose so that the rocks and trees seemed to
tremble in distance.

After a time Hafid raised himself up, and taking the little fellow
upon his shoulders, slowly went towards the narrow foot-path which led
through the woods to the village, the only place where anything like
shadow was to be found.

On, past the empty houses, and into the deeper intricacies, where
the purple shadows lay in longer patches, and the golden sunshine fell
irregularly, small spots lying like rain-drops on the dewy shadow--
stretches.

With broad green leaves on each side, speckled crotons and tufts of
reed-like grass-growth, the greens here were very fresh, and in parts
the ground felt damp and cool, while bright spring-like tints lay over
the grasses; spotted mosquitoes swarmed over him in dense clouds as
Hafid crossed these swampy places, and the quivering haze became
denser, the under-shades changing to dusky blue and growing indefinite
near the roots of the bushes.

Now and again a gay-plumaged bird flew out of the deep recesses and
sought the higher branches, or it might be a chattering flock of
square--flying snow-white cockatoos making a little cloud-patch in the
open parts of blue sky above the tree-tops; once he nearly trod upon a
bright green snake as it lazily crawled across the path and became
lost amongst the reeds, but Hafid went on seemingly tireless, with
that straight look-out in his melancholy eyes, as if he was seeking
for the woman he had lost, while the naked child, perched upon his
shoulder like a little brown ape, clutched at the leaves above its
head, trying to catch the large gay--coloured butterflies as they
circled round him, or the flowers and bright scarlet, white, and blue
berries which trembled upon the swinging tendrils.

At last they came to a small recess where they had been often before,
where the shadows were very dense, and the ground rose to a sort of
bank; in front of them spread a swampy piece of ground with the sun
shining full upon it, where butterflies in thousands kept up a
perpetual motion and uncertain glitter above the lilies and swamp
flowers; while perfect clouds of gnats and mosquitoes swarmed and kept
up a drowsy chorus.

Here Hafid lay down with his head on the shady bank and his feet in a
sunlit pool of water, and the solitary game of tumble on the part of
the boy recommenced.

Savage hordes of hungry tiger-mosquitoes darted upon the lithe naked
body and exposed limbs of Hafid, without disturbing either in the
slightest degree; lizards large and small, of all shades, darted over
the sunny lines, while ants ran about with the important fussy air of
city clerks--and all the time the sun rolled along on his daily round,
making as he descended the western plains, shadows longer in that
tropic retreat.

The boy was tired of his game, and Hafid had fallen asleep, and so
the youth looked about him for some other mode of amusement.

         *   *   *   *   *

Meanwhile, on the sea-shore, work had recommenced, and Queen Ine,
putting her children once more under the charge of the old crone,
became the active over-seer; the fishing canoes had returned as the
sun grew orange-toned in the west, and all hands were required to
unload and prepare the slugs for next day's drying.

So from one group to another she sprang, now in the smoke-house,
hauling out the dried slugs, now pushing her useless old father out of
her road, or superintending the spreading and cutting up of the bêche-
de-mer. She did not spare her own lithe body any more than the serfs
about her.

All was about over by the time Hafid came to view, this time carrying
the child as if asleep in his arms. Queen Ine merely glanced at him as
he laid down his little friend beside the other tired-out children,
and went on with her work, while Hafid passed over to the sea, wading
out a space till the rising tide came over his knees, and watching the
crimson sun sinking below the dark belt of purple ocean over beyond
the surf-line of the distant reefs.

She had finished, and the labourers slowly left the beach in their
family groups, and went towards the village, while with a careful look
round to see if all was rightly done, she turned towards her sleeping
children, and prepared herself to take them indoors.

The old crone took up the two eldest twins, and after laying them
down on one of the bamboo couches, came back for the others, while
Queen Ine, meanwhile, had picked up the youngest.

At this moment the old woman uttered a howl that startled the younger
woman and made her turn round, wondering what was the matter.

The old woman was holding up a little clenched hand of Hafid's
friend, from which she was trying to pluck some bright-tinted berries.

In a moment the apathy of Queen Ine had disappeared, and she became
the distracted mother; with a wild cry, which echoed through the woods
and startled the sleeping parrots, while it arrested the dragging feet
of the villagers, she flung down the infants, and sprang to the side
of the unconscious child.

Some wild words were uttered and answered, as she stooped down to
smell the mouth all tinted with the bright colour of the berries,
while she clutched up the child, and flew backwards and forwards on
the sea-shore, uttering screams which became hoarser each repetition.
The old woman ran as fast as possible towards the village.

Hafid, meanwhile, stood motionless near the sea-shore up to his knees
in water, with the twilight fumes of rosy purple folding him up as
with a mantle.



Chapter IX. Hafid Again on the Road Home.



IT is vain to attempt to describe the agony of the woman when the
child she has brought into the world is passing from it, no matter her
condition or nationality, if she be a woman.

Queen Ine was a woman with all the savage instincts of maternity in
full force within her--a savage in every emotion, and the dying child
was her own flesh, being torn from her by the remorseless enemy Death;
a woman without one consolation, for the South Sea Island teacher who
tried his best to comfort, had not learnt enough of his lately-taught
creed to translate to her those passages whereby the pastor seeks to
alieviate the heavy woe.

From her arms the child had not stirred all through the night, and
the antidote which the old woman had rushed off to the village to
procure, had been administered too late to be of any service against
the subtle effect of the poisoned berries. Every three of the little
body had cut the heart of the mother; yet, after the first wild
madness of the discovery, she became silent, and only the fierce
clutching with her hand at her throat or the sullen bloodshot eyes
betrayed how much the mother felt.

All her other children were as nothing to her now, only this one
lying so still in her lap with its dimming eyes fixed on space. Her
own tearless ones were like flame watching each step of the
approaching enemy.

Hafid had disappeared before morning, unconscious of the disaster he
had brought upon his benefactress; he wandered, as was his wont, over
the most unfrequented portions of the island, and as yet no one had
sought for him. By-and-by, however, when the child was dead, their
wrath would turn to his direction, and he would be hunted down and
offered as a victim to their vengeance.

Emir, the native teacher, would not seek to prevent this action of
savage vengeance; to him it would seem all right and proper, in spite
of his Christianity.

The sun was warming in the west when the end came. On the sea-shore
they all sat silent, except the teacher, who did what he thought right
under the circumstances, sang his native hymns and read at random from
his native testament.

The tribe was assembled waiting on the death, before they began to
weep and lament. Death was a very common visitor with them, and was
treated by all except those most interested in a very callous manner;
there was no use in wasting any time before the right moment arrived.

Children die easy, and so would this one if they had not tried to
save him. Their united efforts increased the torture by prolonging it,
but now it was all over, and while the mother's hot eyes still look
upon the little tawny ashen face and glazing eyes, the limp limbs are
becoming stiff and cold.

Then the ceremony of lamenting begins, while the young men with
their spears scatter to hunt for the poor unconscious Hafid; they will
do their hour of weeping after they have found him.

But Queen Ine does not weep, or take her eyes away from her dead
child. The old woman tries to lift it away, but desists at the wild
clutch the mother's hands make upon it, and instead, puts the youngest
children by turns to the full, throbbing breasts, where she holds them
while they drink, for the mother pays no attention.

It is about the hour when Joe should return, and some of those who
have done their time of lamenting set about preparing for his coming
back, while others hold up their hands to their eyes, shading them
from the declining sun, to catch the first sight of him; but Queen Ine
orders or threatens them no more.

By-and-by some of the watchers say they see it, and with it the
fire--ship, as they call the steamer, and they all begin to bustle
about.

There they are together, the Thunder towing the other along in her
wake. Joe has been drinking and swearing, and trying to cheat and lie
all day, while his child has been suffering the agonies of death.

A little grey speck, which looms up against the grey undersides of
the cloud-bank below the mellow sun-circle, growing from the grey blue
to black, separates as the golden orb gets behind it; then nearer
every moment, until the dark funnels and masters of the two vessels
are easily distinguished, as the amber-brown smoke rolls around that
orange and dun space, where the great eye of day is rapidly turning
bloodshot as it is nearing that clean-cut line of horizon.

It seems hours to the watchers on shore before they can hear the
lashing of the monster's iron tail. Then the yelling and curses of the
captain and mate, and dropping of the anchor, intermingle with the
blood-thirsty yellings of those ashore who cluster round the prisoner
Hafid, dragged by the young men from his retreat in the woods.

"There's something up over there, Joe," remarks Bowman to Joe, as he
sees to his revolvers being ready, before he drops into the dingey,
inside which the nearly intoxicated Joe is sitting waiting.

"I'll soon settle all that once we land," answers Joe easily, and
they pull off towards the excited group.

"Eternal Thunder, what's all this about?" yelled Joe, staggering up
towards the group where Queen Ine sits with her dead child, and the
natives are gesticulating about their prisoner, whom he does not yet
see.

He stops and lays a heavy, uncertain grip on the black shoulders of
his wife, as he lurches forward and prepares himself to be delivered
of a volley of oaths, when something in the face she turns up to him
partly sobers him, and then he looks into her lap and knows all about
it.

Queen Ine looks into his face mutely for a moment with the agony of
a wounded doe, while he stands swaying to and fro, passing his
helpless, horny hand over his drink-dazed eyes and through his beard.
Then her eyes drop once more, as if she had not found what she sought
for in those brutal features; perhaps she did not look for bread,
although she did not like the stone.

Meanwhile Bowman and Danby drew near, and, the dead being only a
black child, did not display much interest in it.

Then Joe, whose grief found vent in a fresh volley of curses, asked
how it happened, and when one of the natives told him, and pointed to
the nearly naked Hindoo standing amongst them, all unconscious of his
offence and danger, he turned to where Bowman stood and said,--

"I told you as how that blamed nigger would bring me no luck, and
now he has done it, and my wench won't be no good for work for the
next month. Poor little man! Blast my blooming eyes."

Something like two drops of water gleamed in Joe's bloodshot eyes as
he spoke, but he was ashamed of giving way before his friends.

"What are they going to do to the Hindoo?" asked Bowman.

"Kill him, for certain; may be, roast and eat him."

"No, no! we must not let them."

"I can't stop 'em when their blood's up; it's more than my head's
worth. Only Queen Ine could do it, and it's not likely she will."

But Queen Ine belied his idea of her; her heart was too full of woe
for any thought of vengeance to stay there, for as Joe spoke she
lifted up her dead baby in her arms, and going over to where her tribe
stood about their captive, cleared a passage, and taking him by the
arm, led him over to where Bowman stood, none disputing her right to
dispose of the captive.

"You white fellow, take him away in fire-ship," she said, in the
best English she could muster, her voice so husky and dry that Bowman
had not the heart to refuse.

"Go way when sun rises. No let them kill Hafid, he good fellow; but
take him away."

She returned to her seat on the ground, but this time when the old
woman approached she took both infants into her arms, and permitted
the other to take the dead baby indoors. She did not look at her
husband any more, but bent her head over her little ones as they hung
at each breast, so that they could not see her face.

"Best take the idiot aboard at once," advised Joe. "I'll come with
you; it feels too blasted lonesome to-night on this yer island, and
Queen Ine is best by herself."

Joe slunk to the stern after the others, and said no more till he
came aboard, when he straightway set to drown his grief in the only
way he knew, which no one sought to deny him. Hafid went forward
amongst the other coloured men, and appeared pleased to think he was
once more on his way over the seas to find his home. And the others,
having already had tea before landing, proceeded to fill their pipes,
and lighting up, went up the companion-way to the poop to enjoy the
evening breeze.

The young horned moon was slowly sinking below the horizon, and the
green and rosy short-lived twilight colours were spreading over the
sky.

On shore, in front of the fire, they could see the dark figures
squatting, or passing to and fro, and loud sounds of weeping were
wafted on the balmy air, blowing the aromatic perfume of burning palm-
wood and dulse towards them; fresh arrivals dropping in and joining in
the funeral service. And at the sight Joe swore a savage oath, and
called for more brandy, which the steward brought to him without the
usual slip of paper.

But they were too far off, and the night was getting too dark for
them to see the figure which crouched all by itself down by the sea-
shore amongst the shells.

Her dead child was being buried by her relations and friends, and her
other children were asleep in the bungalow, so that she had come down
to the sea-beach to be alone.

And the wind sighed round her from the land, while the little
wavelets lapped and splashed about the skirts of her cotton gown and
over her bare feet, and the world above her became luminous with moist
pitying eyes, which she did not see, for her head was buried in the
folds of her gown as it rumpled between her knees. The sounds of the
weeping fell unheeded on her ear, for she knew that they meant
nothing; but a shudder passed over her back, as the gruff intonation
of Joe's curses rolled brokenly in from the deck of the steamer upon
the returning breezes, and struck her ear.



Chapter X. Hula.--A Lover's Quarrel.



ALL the names given by the natives of New Guinea are euphony
itself--Elevira, Hanuabada, Aroma, Kerepuna, Piramata, &c. The
Colonial Government are planning out a city at Port Moresby, i.e.
Elevira or Hanuabada, which they propose to call Grenville.

Hula, the native town, on the sea, where the houses stand out from
the shore on their tall piles, and the highways are, like the highways
of Venice, blue ocean. On shore the Sistu tribe resides, surrounded by
orchards and lovely gardens, with the lofty mountains of the mainland
soaring up to the clouds and hiding the vast aerial mysteries of the
yet unexplored Owen Stanley ranges.

The shore tribes of Hula are hunters and gardeners, bold traders who
go westward with their wares in their large trading Lakatoes, as the
ancient tribes of Greece traded their merchandise, facing, like them,
dangers by sea and land, from robbers, murderers, and pirates, and,
like them, they are all warriors as well as workmen.

The sea tribes live by fishing, which they also barter.

Love and war mingle up with their hourly avocations, and they take
their pleasures and do their work as the Jews did at the rebuilding of
Jerusalem, with one hand on the spade and the other on their spear.

It is a rest-day at Hula, and they are all enjoying the glory of the
sun, cooled by the strong sea-breeze, in the way they like best--
wrestling, sailing their large and small vessels about, practising
with the bow or spear, running races, smoking, telling tales, or
making love to the girls who are cutting up the taro, yams, and
bananas for the modest mid-day meal.

One youth, who has been the length of Brisbane in the bom-bom or
war-sloop, tells the wonders he has seen to a group who listen open--
mouthed to some of his tales or laugh incredulously at others. They
have all seen a screw-steamer in Hula before, and are partly prepared
for the other wonders he tells, the strange sight of houses built one
above the other, and bridges crossing large rivers, of horses carrying
men, and coaches, but they openly laugh to scorn his description of
the trains; there, like the sailor's mother when he told her about the
fish that had wings, they drew the line.

"You know the fire-ship that thump-thumps and kicks the water all
white, well they have beasts the same, who puff-puff like that, and
swallow up hundreds of men as they run up mountains and over the big
fields, big snakes who smoke the bau-bau."

A loud burst of incredulous shouts greeted this wonderful tale, so
that "Kamo," the narrator, was fain to walk off in a dignified way to
console himself as best he could with the society of his future wife,
who, by reason of her position as an engaged young lady, was exempt
from all work, and now lay on the outside of the circle of yam-
preparers basking her dainty limbs in the sun with all the abandonment
of perfect idleness.

Kamo, a tall boy of about eighteen, like all the male portion of New
Guinea, was perfectly naked, with the exception of the elaborate
breast and nose ornaments, earrings, and armlets. His bushy and
frizzed hair, standing about two feet all round his smooth, comely
face, was adorned with scarlet blossoms, like the wreaths which the
ancients were at their love-feasts, dyed of a golden hue by his girl,
and with the long-handled comb stuck rakishly on one side--a splendid
specimen of uncurbed, fresh young humanity, he strode along the sands,
swinging his highly--decorated bau-bau or pipe, in his hand, and
looking at the shadow which fell from his handsome limbs with evident
satisfaction.

Rea, his young lady, watched his approach with half-sleepy
admiration. She had picked him out from many other handsome youths,
impressed by the sense of his superior knowledge, and treated him with
more consideration than New Guinea girls generally display towards
their expectant husbands; but, in spite of her evident awe at his fame
as a traveller, she was not inclined to be too amiable, but led him an
uncertain dance while he waited his appointed month of probation, it
being the custom, after preliminary arrangements are got over, such as
satisfying the parents as to means, &c., to put the suitor under
trial, that is, the youth has to deliver himself over, body and soul,
to the caprices of his intended partner, live in her father's house,
and be for ever on his good behaviour.

Kamo was a very wealthy young man, according to these parts. He had
much tobacco, and some pearl-shells, with other treasures gleaned in
his travels, and so he was greatly respected, and, to use a vulgar
expression, thought no small beer of himself.

Rea, his betrothed, was also an heiress, her father being chief of
the land tribe, with an orchard all her own since her mother's death;
a dainty little girl of sixteen, tattooed to the waist in beautiful
designs of blue upon brown, hair cut short and curly (when she is
married she will shave it all off), a pert round face, with little
nose, full red lips, and teeth only as yet slightly stained with the
betel-nut, large brown mischief-loving eyes, small ears, even although
the lobes hung down rather far to suit European tastes, yet here it
was considered a mark of beauty to have lobes hanging down and
weighted with shell earrings.

Her figure was plump, although, compared with the Apollo-like
proportions of her lover, somewhat undersized, yet the feet now
kicking petulantly at the sands were small and beautifully formed. She
had not so many ornaments about her as Kamo had--as here it is the
custom of the male, like the gorgeous male birds of Paradise, to look
as splendid as possible--her only dress consisting of the "Raumma," or
bulky grass petticoat, which fell from her waist to her knees in many
folds, giving her a bunchy appearance round the hips, and making her
lower limbs appear much less than they really were.

She was gazing at Kamo with indolent admiration as he left the group
of unbelievers with that lordly air of his, feeling all the pride of
easy possession; but as he came nearer she drew her brows together and
the corners of her little mouth down in the manner of a spoilt, petted
child, which, when the young man saw, made him slacken his pace, and
seemed to take a considerable lot of the swagger out of him.

He ceased to swing his bau-bau, and drew near with a conciliatory
air, almost fawning in its humility.

"How much longer have I to wait for you, Kamo, while you tell lies to
the men and make them laugh at you?" exclaimed this spoiled beauty in
an angry voice.

"I didn't know you wanted me to come, Rea. You know you said you were
tired of hearing about the white man's great places, and wanted to
sleep."

"Of course I am sick of all these things. Do you think no one except
you has been out of Hula?"

Kamo did not answer, being a wise youth, who could afford to wait his
time.

"Well, have you nothing to tell me, Kamo, now that you are here?" she
inquired, still offended, or pretending to be so, as he took his place
beside her on the sands.

"Only that I wish my month was over, and I had you all to myself,"
replied Kamo, trying to take her hand, which she snatched from him.

"I don't; it's too pleasant to lie about and do nothing all day, and
I haven't yet made up my mind whether you are worth working for.
Perhaps I'll turn you over like Mea did Rika."

"No, Rea, you would not do that to me, for I know the road to the
white man now, and I'd go away and never see Hula again."

"I would not care about that, you may depend, if I sent you from me;
there are plenty of fine boys in Hula."

"Would you kill me, Rea?"

"I'll think about it; but you must be more amusing, or I'll not take
you."

"I'll do whatever you like, Rea."

"Then carry me through the streets. I want to find out how it feels
like, on the beast you call a horse."

Poor Kamo cast a rueful glance round at the other youths and maidens,
for he knew how they would jeer at him if he did this, and said,--

"Wouldn't a sail be nicer, Rea? Come, we will go over the sea in my
new canoe."

"No, I want a ride, and you must be my horse, and take me all round
the village."

Kamo felt he must obey, so with a deep sigh of resignation he put
down his bau-bau and put his arms about her to lift her up, when she
stopped him.

"Not that way; I want you to go the way you showed us the horses
went."

Kamo remembered, with a shudder, how he had run all-fours to
illustrate the horse, one night when they were merry, and cursed his
vanity when he remembered his pride at being the hero. That was weeks
ago, when he first came home and his stories were listened to.

"Well, boy, are you going to do it, or must I go to my father?"
cried the maiden, impatiently. And at this dire threat Kamo bent his
back meekly, and went on his hands and knees, while Rea, gathering her
skirts well around her and taking up the ornamented bau-bau in lieu of
a whip, sat down upon him, and hitting him smartly over the shoulders,
told him to "Gee up!" as he had said the white man did with his
horses.

On went poor Kamo under his loved but not fairy-like load, panting
and sweating with the heat of the sun and the exertion and the shame
before him, while Rea sat calmly and contented with her new mode of
torture.

She did not spare either his back or his shoulders, and he dared not
complain. The motion pleased her, and she considered nothing about her
horse except a wicked little thrill of pleasure at the thought of this
novel mode of tormenting him.

And all the village men and boys left their sports and their talking
to watch and laugh at this new spectacle; the old women stood up with
their knives in one hand and the half-peeled yam in the other,
laughing at the fun, even while they were thinking how soon Rea's
reign of tyranny would be over; while the younger maidens forsook the
cooking-pots altogether, and followed jeering and laughing at the fool
Rea was making of her lover, and wishing the time had come when they
could torment a lover also.

The father of Rea also followed, laughing like the rest, but keeping
a sharp look-out on the pair, as fathers and mothers in these parts do
during courting season.

And in the midst of the yelling and hooting crowd Rea sat unmoved,
urging on her unlucky victim with vicious little pinches and kicks, as
well as blows from the bamboo-pipe, while he groaned in spirit as he
ambled on with shell-cut hands and feet, his hair filled with sand,
and the hibiscus blossoms all tumbled about.

"On, beast, on!" shouted Rea, spurring up those jaded limbs until his
heart was sore with the exertion, while the crowd of girls flung more
sand over him and shouted,--

"Yes, on, you beast!"

How long it might have lasted, who knows--for Rea felt the heroine of
the hour, and liked the motion too well for any thought of her victim
to enter her curly little head--had not a lucky idea struck the
throbbing brain of Kamo of a horse he had once seen throw his rider.

Perhaps it was desperation prompted the idea, for he felt he must
sink down with exhaustion if he went on longer, or the sight of a nice
soft green mound of grass right before him, or maybe the wicked grin
on the ugly face of Toto, who stood at hand in his gay suit of orange
and red, leering at the girl bestriding him; but he instantly acted
upon it, kicking up his heels in the air at the moment that the
smiling Rea was least expecting such a motion, and landing her unhurt,
but ignominiously, right in the centre of the grass tuft.

"That is the way the horses do," gasped Kamo, getting up and shaking
himself, while all the natives laughed at Rea.

Rea, who had fallen in a most ungraceful attitude, picked herself
quickly up, and, first adjusting her raumma, ran up to him with
blazing eves.

"And that's what I do, you beast!"

With both hands she slapped him full on each cheek, and walked off
towards the gardens, leaving poor Kamo shamefaced and dejected, with
smarting cheeks and a growing consciousness that it would have been
better if he had played the patient instead of the kicking steed.



Chapter XI. Toto Remembers One of the Christian Virtues, and Forgives.



THERE was a wealthier man in Hula than Kamo, albeit not nearly so
well liked, yet riches are always treated with some respect amongst
savages, as they are with more civilized communities.

Toto was not a pretty man, in spite of his most gorgeous costume as
he stood there, grinning at Kamo and leering upon Rea.

A strong-built fellow, with the face of a libertine, mingled with all
the cunning of the treacherous savage; his nose resembled the nose of
a Tartar, and his eyes were elongated and appeared as if lashless,
with a most unpleasant droop at the outer corners; his mouth also was
very large and slobbery-looking from the constant habit of betel
chewing, and looked like a freshly jagged wound, wide, gaping, and
showing the scarlet gums and stumps of blackened tusks behind.

He was the only man dressed in Hula, excepting the freshly-installed
South Sea Island teacher, who had lately arrived with his pretty young
wife to take the post from which Toto had been deposed.

Toto was the only Papuan who could read and write in Hula; formerly
he had been taken in hand by the missionaries and educated to become a
teacher amongst his people, almost the first New Guinea native who had
been converted.

After his training at Port Moresby, he had been sent down amongst his
own kindred and people, to continue the good work; but, alas! Toto had
been only half-redeemed when let loose, and soon relapsed into
something worse than his original uncultivated state.

Toto, like the other native teachers, had been allowed twenty pounds
a year to maintain himself and family--ample means for him amongst his
own tribe, where he had his own portion of land, although barely
sufficient for the poor strangers, who were compelled to buy
everything they required at the prices fixed by the natives and
traders. The Papuan being close-fisted and yielding nothing out of
charity, these poor South Sea Islanders come with their wives amongst
people callous, if not regarding them as intruders. They spend their
year's allowance in less than four months, and then half starve the
rest of the year, working on bravely and uncomplainingly upon this
arid soil, till their wives droop and die, or themselves are murdered
and eaten.

Toto was not the man to make a martyr of himself, and being worldly
wise, after getting all he could out of the mission-station, a pretty
young wife (he had left one at Hula working in his garden while he was
being converted), and his first instalment of salary, he took up his
position, and cast about for other methods to increase his meagre
income.

Under the protection of the missionary he became a power in his own
land, while the hymns he sang drew the young boys and girls to his
house, which he got built large and commodious. When traders came they
applied to Toto, as mediator between them and the tribe, getting him
to drive the bargains for them, so that he was paid both ways,
deceiving all round, in the feathering of his own nest.

By-and-by, as time went on, Toto learnt that which they, his people,
have not yet learnt, the use of money direct; he got to know what
these rough sailors wanted besides copra and curios, and by stages
became the pander to their vices, turning the mission-house into a
place of ungodly riot, under the cloak of his supposed office of
assistant teacher, and making the name of Hula vile throughout the
land.

He was an unbounded hypocrite, and knew how to fawn and hold the key
as well as any keeper of houses of the same description in European
towns, without being as yet suspected either by the missionaries or
the honest people he was daily betraying, while laying up treasures of
iniquity.

The girls he taught by degrees those lessons of duplicity, so that
they might hood wink their husbands and parents, and the cunning
scoundrel knew by all the instincts of the trained pander whom to
approach.

By-and-by, however, rumours reached headquarters, and he was
dismissed at once ignominiously from the office which he had defiled,
yet not before he had made enough to treat their dismissal with
grinning contempt. He had established his name, and had plenty of
customers, while the natives could not help respecting his riches,
even though they had sprung from their dead honour. Toto could still
swagger about in the gay garments which the traders brought to him,
and awe his people with his splendours, while his courtyard was seldom
empty of visitors.

His South Sea Island spouse had died some time before this, worn down
with the hardships of her life amongst these unsympathetic strangers
and killed at last by fever and neglect. The wife he had left behind
was getting too old for Toto, so some time before Kamo had returned he
had been one of the suitors for the hand of Rea.

But in Hula, as throughout all New Guinea, women, although finally
bought, are permitted to make their own choice, so that Toto,
favourably received by the father for the sake of his wealth, had been
rudely dismissed by the wilful young lady, who had a good knowledge of
Toto's profession, and hated him accordingly.

Still he leared upon her and made disgusting remarks when he met her
alone, and had not given up hopes even after Kamo appeared.

When Kamo came to himself, after his chastisement and the abrupt
departure of Rea, the first object that met his moody eyes was the
large yellow and red-striped pants of this abhorred, would-be rival.

The colour upon him had the effect of red upon an excitable bull.
Slowly his eyes wandered up to the evil, open mouth of the betel--
chewing pander, and he fixed upon the opportunity to avenge the
insults which Rea had told him about.

The tribe all round were still laughing merrily at the late scene,
and Toto, thinking the quarrel meant fresh hopes for him, also swayed
from side to side indulging in silent bursts of malicious mirth.

"What are you laughing at, you pig?" shouted Kamo, coming up to
within an inch of Toto's sallow Chinese-looking face, and clenching
his fist.

Toto could not stop all of a moment, besides he did not think there
was any necessity, Kamo was such a boy compared with him.

"At the funny figure you cut on your knees--"

He did not finish his little joke, for Kamo's fist had rattled
against his gums, and the men gathered round to separate them, knowing
that Kamo was no match for the other; but Toto did not strike back, he
had learnt one lesson at Port Moresby, to control his temper.

The leering grin became intensified with the swelling lips, as he
wiped the blood away with his gaudy sleeves; but he only nodded his
head at Kamo, and said,--

"We'll settle all this by-and-by, Kamo, my boy; you just wait and
see." Then he hitched up his trousers, and went down past the crowd
towards his own house, while Kamo and the others looked after him,
marvelling at his Christian forbearance.

Once, as he nearly reached his door, he looked back and waved his
hand towards them; appearing still to be laughing, but with his lips
bulged out.



Chapter XII. In the Gardens of Hula.--The Reconciliation.



REA ran, with burning cheeks and flaming eyes, straight out of the
village, shame in her little heart at her discomfiture, and wild
hatred for the man who had affronted her, never stopping until she had
reached the spring in the woods, over by the gardens, where the women
came night and morning to fetch water.

There she flung herself face downwards on the moist grass, tearing it
out by handfuls, and howling in her savage passion.

It was a new experience to this spoilt young beauty of Hula to be
treated in this way. Of course she knew that after her marriage she
would have to work, and submit in some things to her husband; but,
before that came to pass, all precedent had proved to her that men
were slaves, and that she ought to make the most of her time, as other
girls did. It was nothing to torment and hurt her lover; that was what
they all had to expect when they went courting, but to be herself
humiliated before her people in that way was too much to endure.

"I will give him up at once and for ever," she cried savagely. For
ever! The two last weeks had been very pleasant weeks, and there was
no one to compare with Kamo in Hula. Perhaps his wanderings amongst
white men had spoilt him, for she remembered that Kamo had told her
that white men treated their girls differently.

"What fools these white women must be," she thought, "to be tender to
their lovers, and let them bully them from the first. Have not all
women to suffer after they are married? And it is only right that the
men should have their share beforehand."

Kamo had told her that he had seen the men in Brisbane knock down
their women and kick them; and she now remembered all these horrors,
and wondered if this was only a foretaste of her future if she married
him, for in New Guinea the husbands were always kind to their wives,
and only fought amongst themselves.

"No, he would never dare go that length, nor will I give him the
chance."

As Rea thought over these things she recalled how handsome he looked
that morning when he came over to her, and at the prospect of giving
him up the fire in her brown eyes became quenched with the tears which
welled up from her sore little heart and rolled down her tawny cheeks,
and she left off kicking with her toes and tearing out the grass with
her hands, and, crossing her bare brown arms under her face, did
exactly as a white maiden would have done under the same
circumstances, namely, had a hearty crying match, pitying her own
sweet self very much, and feeling very desolate, with the wish that
she was dead.

"Rea," murmured a soft voice in her ear, which made her leap up,
ashamed at being caught crying, to find the wicked face of Toto near
her. He had quietly crept up beside her, and sat himself down on a
tree-stump by the edge of the spring, and looking as sympathetic as
his swollen mouth and evil eyes could allow him to look. "Don't run
away, Rea; I saw what Kamo did to you, and got this for taking your
part."

He pointed to his cut mouth, and at the sight Rea felt a gentle
thrill of satisfaction.

"Did he fight with you about me?"

"He struck me, Rea," answered Toto meekly.

"And did you hurt him much?"

"No, Rea; I did not touch him."

"Why?"

A wealth of scorn was in the question. She knew Toto was a strong
man, and had feared that Kamo was hurt in the encounter; but she could
not understand a man not striking back. The little savage did not
understand the Christian principle of forgiveness, although her heart
had already endorsed it towards the recreant Kamo.

"I thought on a better way, whereby you and I together might hurt him
much worse," replied Toto, in a soft voice.

"In what way, Toto?"

Rea was on her guard now, and all her anger forgotten.

"I know a man who could take Kamo away from Hula, and give you and me
a big present for him; he will soon be here now, before another moon.
But you hate Kamo now, don't you, Rea?"

"Yes, yes; but go on, Toto," impatiently answered Rea, stamping her
foot.

"And if you will come to my place now and then, when the white
fellows come, you may soon have as much money as Kamo has--"

What Rea's reply might have been Toto could not say, and never got
the chance of hearing; for, while he tried to meet her glance as she
looked steadfastly towards her feet, he gave a sudden cry, which
caused the maiden to look up startled, and to find Kamo standing over
his prostrate enemy, his club in his hand splashed with blood.

Rea looked upon her lover as he stood there like a young god, his
eyes blazing and his nostrils quivering. Then a great timidity and
fear crept over her, as he turned his eyes from the half-conscious
Toto, who had now sat up trying to collect his scattered senses and
clear his eyes from the blood which ran down his forehead and nearly
blinded him.

"What was Toto saying to you, Rea?" he demanded fiercely.

Rea breathed once more; he had not heard the infamous proposal.

"Nothing, Kamo."

"Toto doesn't come to say nothing."

Toto by this time had risen to his feet, and stood at a convenient
distance from the lovers. He replied for Rea. "I was asking Rea to
marry me now she is done with you."

"Ah!" Kamo remembered that he was a sinner, and became limp and
dejected at these words. Had she given him up? It seemed a small fault
for so hard a punishment, and yet, according to the Hula code of
morality, he dare not appeal against it, Rea being still mistress of
her own fate.

"Then I had better go," said Kamo, sadly, "since you give me up,
Rea; only I'll kill you, Toto, before you can get her."

"Don't go, Kamo; he is telling lies. You know, Kamo, I would not
marry him if there was not another man to have, although I don't like
you any longer."

"Then tell him to go, if he won't fight me now," said Kamo, sternly.

Toto did not wait to be ordered off the field. He was a big man, but
he did not care to contend in battle for Rea or any other woman, and
that single taste of Kamo's club seemed to be enough in one day for
him.

"Yes, I'll go now, Rea, and will get your answer some other time,"
said Toto, going off as he spoke. He did not feel at all easy in his
mind as to what Rea might tell Kamo, but on the whole trusted to
chance. If his little plan were revealed he could always say it was a
joke, and accomplish his purpose when his friend Niggeree came, as he
expected him before long.

There are cowards in New Guinea as in other portions of the world,
and Toto, in spite of his great size and superior education, was a
rank craven; he had no taste for the standing accomplishments of his
country, and would much rather run away than fight any day. Although
not now a model Christian, he still adhered to the tenets of the new
creed which he had been taught, and liked peace.

Kamo looked after him, with a scornful smile, as he slunk into the
cover like a wounded snake, while Rea, watching her lover out of the
corners of her eyes, and mentally comparing the two, decided that
after a little penance she would give Kamo one more trial.

There is no need to describe this penance laid upon the unhappy
sinner. She made all her conditions hard ones, which he consented to
perform to the letter. He was to go that night into the bush, and stay
there till morning amongst the ghosts. Kamo did not mind this so much
as she thought he would, as a great deal of his early superstitions
had been brushed away by his contact with the white people, but he was
too cunning to let her know of this, and so pretended to be very
frightened, which mollified her greatly.

She did not mention what Toto had told her, for she trusted to her
superior wit to defeat his vile projects when the time came; besides,
she feared for Kamo if he again met Toto, for she could not believe in
one man being frightened at another, it was only the women they ought
to fear and respect.

They had both missed dinner by the time peace was made up, and the
sun was sending horizontal shafts of gold through the close leafage
behind them, while the mosquitoes were coming out in detachments. But
when did lovers ever care about dinner? In a few more moments the
village women would be coming here to fetch water; already their
chattering was borne, like the clatter of cockatoos on the wing, upon
the evening winds. The gardens spread behind the umbrageous
balustrades like long shady avenues, where these tawny insect-crowded
shafts of sunlight were stretching down like golden ropes. Neither
Kamo nor Rea had any desire to be seen in their moment of
reconciliation or be twitted about their quarrel, so they turned in
time into the thicket, as the first company of girls appeared from the
village pathway with their water--pots upon their shoulders.

Round the well there was an open space, grass-covered, where the
girls lingered to chaff one another, as girls do, or listen to the
experiences of the old women. Here, also, the boys wandered about at
this hour, to impress the girls with their splendour; for there were
great dandies in Hula, who were in the habit of sporting all their
property in the form of ornaments, and who here strutted about arm-in-
arm, with their bushy heads adorned with flowers and feathers, so that
the girls might admire them as they passed.

It is curious how much alike human nature is all over the world, and
how youth must assert itself in the spring-time, either with nose
ornaments or stiff high collars, just as the young tree puts on its
blossom.

It was all the same here in Hula under the down-hanging fronds of the
palm-trees as in the streets of London on a summer night, or on a
village green in the country, where the maidens and young men
foregather under the unlighted lamp-posts or the old oak branches.

The same as will happen in Iceland during the short fierce summer, or
on the banks of the Ganges--the same that took place on the banks of
the Nile or the canals of Assyria four thousand years ago, and will go
on while the world rolls round the sun.

Rea had not been many moments amongst those shady avenues of fruit-
trees before she regretted the penance which she had imposed upon
Kamo. It was so nice to be out here all alone, away for a little time
from her father's watchful eye, although she knew that even now he was
hunting after them both; and kisses don't taste so nice before an
audience as they do when taken in shady places with no spectator. She
felt too the punishment would be hers as much as his, because she
would not have him near her to torment; as she meditated she watched
with delight his glorious form.

"I'll let you off to-night, Kamo, if you never do anything to annoy
me again."

Rea was very tender just now, with the twilight hush upon her; and
Kamo's arm, the one round her waist, trembled as he drew her closer
beside him and kissed her, which she did not try to stop. Over their
heads, between a rift in the papua-tree, the young moon basked upon
her back, on a velvet bed of orange-green, while all the garden was
steeped in the sombre shapelessness of a low-toned Flemish study--
tender and filled with mystery.

Rea's heart was beating down the walls of affectation and reserve,
for Kamo grew more her master than she felt she ought to let him be;
but it was too sweet to rest passive, and too much effort to resist
his caresses. And she had had enough of trouble in asserting her
rights already for one day, so for one short twilight hour she
permitted him and herself to be happy.

"Ha! so I have found you at last!" cried the deep tones of her
parent, as he laid a heavy hand on Kamo's shoulder; and the honeyed
dream for that time was over.



Chapter XIII. Towards the Fly River.



IT is not a very long run to the New Guinea coast when the wind is
fair, although in the Papuan Gulf very violent storms are apt to be
experienced. Niggeree, in his Sunflower, led the way, with the Coral
Seas keeping as nearly beside him as it was possible, and although the
weather was calm inside the reefs and as long as they were in the
Straits, there was a deal of tacking to be done to keep to the course.

Still the wind was pretty fair, it being now nearly the middle of the
dry season, with an easterly monsoon blowing on their broadsides as
they made towards Kiwai, at the mouth of the Fly River.

A patchy sea, very treacherous as to bottom, right on to Bampton
Island, yet protected as far as Flinder's Entrance by the great
Barrier Reef, which made sailing comparatively easy by day,
particularly to so experienced a pilot as Niggeree, who knew every
inch of the way.

Niggeree would have liked Hector to have gone with him; but as he had
an extra crew of Malays and South Sea Islanders, old hands whom the
Greek could manage and trust, it was thought expedient that he should
accompany Captain Collins in his schooner, and follow as best they
could in the wake of the Sunflower.

So, after they parted from Joe and the Thunder, keeping well to the
wind, they sailed along smoothly; the sharp Sunflower, like a fresh
young filly, springing a mile or two in advance, to wait while the
other schooner, like a more sober old horse, tried to make up.

Over a sea filled with ripples, all emerald and amethyst, with a
cloudless sky overhead, and a sun blazing down and making the pitch in
the seams bubble up and the iron and brass work feel almost red hot.

Niggeree lay on the deck when not wanted, full in the fiery glare,
with bare legs and feet, with stalwart limbs brown as berries, his
pipe in his mouth. He was gazing upwards at the bulging sails and
cordage, while his Malay boy, who knew the waters almost as well as
his master, steered.

On the forecastle lay the Islanders, Malays, and Manilla boys, a
little crowd, too many to be required for such a small vessel; but
Niggeree knew his business well, and did not take a single man without
a purpose, and where he was going he knew well he would require them
all.

Arms of all kinds lay scattered about the decks as the men had left
them to be polished up--Winchesters and double-barrelled rifles,
cutlasses, and revolvers. Beside Niggeree lay a belt with two of
Colt's latest improvements and a fifteen-chambered Winchester, while
in his left hand he lazily held a freshly-ground cutlass, the keen
edge of which he lightly touched with his right thumb, laying it down
to remove his pipe when he had to expectorate, which he did without
raising his head, and lifting it again with the dreamy tenderness with
which women are apt to finger a love relic.

At times he uttered, in a quiet, muffled tone, without removing his
pipe, an order which the Malay instantly caught and obeyed, and once,
without waiting to see where they were, he sprang, with the agility of
a sleeping cat suddenly roused up by a foot treading on her tail, and,
running up to the masthead, clung there for a few moments with one arm
and one foot round the bare pole, while he motioned with his other
hand the direction to the man at the wheel.

They were passing over a green patch of water with only a ship and a
half's length of deep blue channel, all crooked and circuitous, where
the many-tinted fish could be seen darting about in myriads, and as
the sunbeams dived down amongst the cool transparency, lovely shapes,
like trees and flowers, could be seen springing up as if carved from
emerald, lapis lazuli, or amber, while in front of them leapt and flew
the shoals of flying-fish, and all round, like fairy barges, floated
the nautilus fleets steering due west.

A scene of light and soul-satisfying beauty and warmth, with that
strong yet soft breeze pressing upon the skin like eider-down and
tossing the locks aside with velvet flappings. Away in front and east-
ward the horizon was a tumbled line of intense blue, with broken
fringes of dazzling white; they were nearing the point where the
protecting barrier ceased entirely, and where the ocean boiled in
fury. There was a cloudless gale outside there, and no mistake--one of
those gales most dangerous to sailing craft, where the waves beat up
faster and stronger than the wind, giving the steersman hardly a
chance to evade the swamping mountains.

As yet it was all right with the calm sea, and the strong blast
filled to straining the shortened upper sail, and drove the mist
wreathes merrily out of the way.

"Furl sails!" cried Niggeree, coming down from his perch aloft.
"Let's know the depth; there ought to be a sand-bank hereabouts where
we can anchor."

Some of the men sprang up to the yard and stowed away the canvas as
the lead showed satisfactory anchorage, so in another moment the
Sunflower was riding safely amongst the coral, while her captain
waited upon his consort's approach.

"Hallo, Nig! what's up?" bawled out Collins from his deck when they
got within hail.

"Nothing, only it's too rough outside to go on; besides, we'll lose
nothing by this half-day at anchor. We can easily reach Mibu to-
morrow, while the wind may lull a bit to-night."

"It does look roughish outside," responded Collins. "Have you good
anchorage there, mate?"

"Only a sand-patch of a few yards. Try over by the lee of you, there
ought to be something there if it hasn't shifted since last voyage."

Collins reefed his solitary spread of canvas, and, letting his vessel
drift in the direction Niggeree pointed, watched anxiously as the man
threw in the lead and sounded.

A sleepy Manilla man the sounder was, who threw out his line and drew
it in again hand over fist in a listless way, singing out in a
monotonous drone, as if it had been an old lesson the interest in
which he had long since lost.

"Five fathoms!"

"Four fathoms and a quarter!"

"Three fathoms less twain!"

"Two foot, sah!"

This last was jerked