ADVENTURE

 "We are those fools who could not rest In the dull earth we left behind, But burned with passion for the West, And drank strange frenzy from its wind. The world where wise men live at ease Fades from our unregretful eyes, And blind across uncharted seas We stagger on our enterprise. "

 "THE SHIP OF FOOLS. "

CHAPTER I--SOMETHING TO BE DONE

He was a very sick white man. He rode pick-a-back on a woolly-headed, black-skinned savage, the lobes of whose ears had been pierced andstretched until one had torn out, while the other carried a circularblock of carved wood three inches in diameter. The torn ear had beenpierced again, but this time not so ambitiously, for the holeaccommodated no more than a short clay pipe. The man-horse was greasyand dirty, and naked save for an exceedingly narrow and dirty loin-cloth;but the white man clung to him closely and desperately. At times, fromweakness, his head drooped and rested on the woolly pate. At other timeshe lifted his head and stared with swimming eyes at the cocoanut palmsthat reeled and swung in the shimmering heat. He was clad in a thinundershirt and a strip of cotton cloth, that wrapped about his waist anddescended to his knees. On his head was a battered Stetson, known to thetrade as a Baden-Powell. About his middle was strapped a belt, whichcarried a large-calibred automatic pistol and several spare clips, loadedand ready for quick work. 

The rear was brought up by a black boy of fourteen or fifteen, whocarried medicine bottles, a pail of hot water, and various other hospitalappurtenances. They passed out of the compound through a small wickergate, and went on under the blazing sun, winding about among new-plantedcocoanuts that threw no shade. There was not a breath of wind, and thesuperheated, stagnant air was heavy with pestilence. From the directionthey were going arose a wild clamour, as of lost souls wailing and of menin torment. A long, low shed showed ahead, grass-walled andgrass-thatched, and it was from here that the noise proceeded. Therewere shrieks and screams, some unmistakably of grief, others unmistakablyof unendurable pain. As the white man drew closer he could hear a lowand continuous moaning and groaning. He shuddered at the thought ofentering, and for a moment was quite certain that he was going to faint. For that most dreaded of Solomon Island scourges, dysentery, had struckBerande plantation, and he was all alone to cope with it. Also, he wasafflicted himself. 

By stooping close, still on man-back, he managed to pass through the lowdoorway. He took a small bottle from his follower, and sniffed strongammonia to clear his senses for the ordeal. Then he shouted, "Shut up!"and the clamour stilled. A raised platform of forest slabs, six feetwide, with a slight pitch, extended the full length of the shed. Alongside of it was a yard-wide run-way. Stretched on the platform, sideby side and crowded close, lay a score of blacks. That they were low inthe order of human life was apparent at a glance. They were man-eaters. Their faces were asymmetrical, bestial; their bodies were ugly and ape-like. They wore nose-rings of clam-shell and turtle-shell, and from theends of their noses which were also pierced, projected horns of beadsstrung on stiff wire. Their ears were pierced and distended toaccommodate wooden plugs and sticks, pipes, and all manner of barbaricornaments. Their faces and bodies were tattooed or scarred in hideousdesigns. In their sickness they wore no clothing, not even loin-cloths, though they retained their shell armlets, their bead necklaces, and theirleather belts, between which and the skin were thrust naked knives. Thebodies of many were covered with horrible sores. Swarms of flies roseand settled, or flew back and forth in clouds. 

The white man went down the line, dosing each man with medicine. To somehe gave chlorodyne. He was forced to concentrate with all his will inorder to remember which of them could stand ipecacuanha, and which ofthem were constitutionally unable to retain that powerful drug. One wholay dead he ordered to be carried out. He spoke in the sharp, peremptorymanner of a man who would take no nonsense, and the well men who obeyedhis orders scowled malignantly. One muttered deep in his chest as hetook the corpse by the feet. The white man exploded in speech andaction. It cost him a painful effort, but his arm shot out, landing aback-hand blow on the black's mouth. 

"What name you, Angara?" he shouted. "What for talk 'long you, eh? Iknock seven bells out of you, too much, quick!"

With the automatic swiftness of a wild animal the black gathered himselfto spring. The anger of a wild animal was in his eyes; but he saw thewhite man's hand dropping to the pistol in his belt. The spring wasnever made. The tensed body relaxed, and the black, stooping over thecorpse, helped carry it out. This time there was no muttering. 

"Swine!" the white man gritted out through his teeth at the whole breedof Solomon Islanders. 

He was very sick, this white man, as sick as the black men who layhelpless about him, and whom he attended. He never knew, each time heentered the festering shambles, whether or not he would be able tocomplete the round. But he did know in large degree of certainty that, if he ever fainted there in the midst of the blacks, those who were ablewould be at his throat like ravening wolves. 

Part way down the line a man was dying. He gave orders for his removalas soon as he had breathed his last. A black stuck his head inside theshed door, saying, --

"Four fella sick too much. "

Fresh cases, still able to walk, they clustered about the spokesman. Thewhite man singled out the weakest, and put him in the place just vacatedby the corpse. Also, he indicated the next weakest, telling him to waitfor a place until the next man died. Then, ordering one of the well mento take a squad from the field-force and build a lean-to addition to thehospital, he continued along the run-way, administering medicine andcracking jokes in _beche-de-mer_ English to cheer the sufferers. Now andagain, from the far end, a weird wail was raised. When he arrived therehe found the noise was emitted by a boy who was not sick. The whiteman's wrath was immediate. 

"What name you sing out alla time?" he demanded. 

"Him fella my brother belong me, " was the answer. "Him fella die toomuch. "

"You sing out, him fella brother belong you die too much, " the white manwent on in threatening tones. "I cross too much along you. What nameyou sing out, eh? You fat-head make um brother belong you die dose uptoo much. You fella finish sing out, savvee? You fella no finish singout I make finish damn quick. "

He threatened the wailer with his fist, and the black cowered down, glaring at him with sullen eyes. 

"Sing out no good little bit, " the white man went on, more gently. "Youno sing out. You chase um fella fly. Too much strong fella fly. Youcatch water, washee brother belong you; washee plenty too much, bime byebrother belong you all right. Jump!" he shouted fiercely at the end, hiswill penetrating the low intelligence of the black with dynamic forcethat made him jump to the task of brushing the loathsome swarms of fliesaway. 

Again he rode out into the reeking heat. He clutched the black's necktightly, and drew a long breath; but the dead air seemed to shrivel hislungs, and he dropped his head and dozed till the house was reached. Every effort of will was torture, yet he was called upon continually tomake efforts of will. He gave the black he had ridden a nip of trade-gin. Viaburi, the house-boy, brought him corrosive sublimate and water, and he took a thorough antiseptic wash. He dosed himself withchlorodyne, took his own pulse, smoked a thermometer, and lay back on thecouch with a suppressed groan. It was mid-afternoon, and he hadcompleted his third round that day. He called the house-boy. 

"Take um big fella look along _Jessie_, " he commanded. 

The boy carried the long telescope out on the veranda, and searched thesea. 

"One fella schooner long way little bit, " he announced. "One fella_Jessie_. "

The white man gave a little gasp of delight. 

"You make um _Jessie_, five sticks tobacco along you, " he said. 

There was silence for a time, during which he waited with eagerimpatience. 

"Maybe _Jessie_, maybe other fella schooner, " came the falteringadmission. 

The man wormed to the edge of the couch, and slipped off to the floor onhis knees. By means of a chair he drew himself to his feet. Stillclinging to the chair, supporting most of his weight on it, he shoved itto the door and out upon the veranda. The sweat from the exertionstreamed down his face and showed through the undershirt across hisshoulders. He managed to get into the chair, where he panted in a stateof collapse. In a few minutes he roused himself. The boy held the endof the telescope against one of the veranda scantlings, while the mangazed through it at the sea. At last he picked up the white sails of theschooner and studied them. 

"No _Jessie_, " he said very quietly. "That's the _Malakula_. "

He changed his seat for a steamer reclining-chair. Three hundred feetaway the sea broke in a small surf upon the beach. To the left he couldsee the white line of breakers that marked the bar of the Balesuna River, and, beyond, the rugged outline of Savo Island. Directly before him, across the twelve-mile channel, lay Florida Island; and, farther to theright, dim in the distance, he could make out portions of Malaita--thesavage island, the abode of murder, and robbery, and man-eating--theplace from which his own two hundred plantation hands had been recruited. Between him and the beach was the cane-grass fence of the compound. Thegate was ajar, and he sent the house-boy to close it. Within the fencegrew a number of lofty cocoanut palms. On either side the path that ledto the gate stood two tall flagstaffs. They were reared on artificialmounds of earth that were ten feet high. The base of each staff wassurrounded by short posts, painted white and connected by heavy chains. The staffs themselves were like ships' masts, with topmasts spliced on intrue nautical fashion, with shrouds, ratlines, gaffs, and flag-halyards. From the gaff of one, two gay flags hung limply, one a checkerboard ofblue and white squares, the other a white pennant centred with a reddisc. It was the international code signal of distress. 

On the far corner of the compound fence a hawk brooded. The man watchedit, and knew that it was sick. He wondered idly if it felt as bad as hefelt, and was feebly amused at the thought of kinship that somehowpenetrated his fancy. He roused himself to order the great bell to berung as a signal for the plantation hands to cease work and go to theirbarracks. Then he mounted his man-horse and made the last round of theday. 

In the hospital were two new cases. To these he gave castor-oil. Hecongratulated himself. It had been an easy day. Only three had died. Heinspected the copra-drying that had been going on, and went through thebarracks to see if there were any sick lying hidden and defying his ruleof segregation. Returned to the house, he received the reports of theboss-boys and gave instructions for next day's work. The boat's crewboss also he had in, to give assurance, as was the custom nightly, thatthe whale-boats were hauled up and padlocked. This was a most necessaryprecaution, for the blacks were in a funk, and a whale-boat left lying onthe beach in the evening meant a loss of twenty blacks by morning. Sincethe blacks were worth thirty dollars apiece, or less, according to howmuch of their time had been worked out, Berande plantation could illafford the loss. Besides, whale-boats were not cheap in the Solomons;and, also, the deaths were daily reducing the working capital. Sevenblacks had fled into the bush the week before, and four had draggedthemselves back, helpless from fever, with the report that two more hadbeen killed and _kai-kai'd_ {1} by the hospitable bushmen. The seventhman was still at large, and was said to be working along the coast on thelookout to steal a canoe and get away to his own island. 

Viaburi brought two lighted lanterns to the white man for inspection. Heglanced at them and saw that they were burning brightly with clear, broadflames, and nodded his head. One was hoisted up to the gaff of theflagstaff, and the other was placed on the wide veranda. They were theleading lights to the Berande anchorage, and every night in the year theywere so inspected and hung out. 

He rolled back on his couch with a sigh of relief. The day's work wasdone. A rifle lay on the couch beside him. His revolver was withinreach of his hand. An hour passed, during which he did not move. He layin a state of half-slumber, half-coma. He became suddenly alert. Acreak on the back veranda was the cause. The room was L-shaped; thecorner in which stood his couch was dim, but the hanging lamp in the mainpart of the room, over the billiard table and just around the corner, sothat it did not shine on him, was burning brightly. Likewise theverandas were well lighted. He waited without movement. The creaks wererepeated, and he knew several men lurked outside. 

"What name?" he cried sharply. 

The house, raised a dozen feet above the ground, shook on its pilefoundations to the rush of retreating footsteps. 

"They're getting bold, " he muttered. "Something will have to be done. "

The full moon rose over Malaita and shone down on Berande. Nothingstirred in the windless air. From the hospital still proceeded themoaning of the sick. In the grass-thatched barracks nearly two hundredwoolly-headed man-eaters slept off the weariness of the day's toil, though several lifted their heads to listen to the curses of one whocursed the white man who never slept. On the four verandas of the housethe lanterns burned. Inside, between rifle and revolver, the man himselfmoaned and tossed in intervals of troubled sleep. 

CHAPTER II--SOMETHING IS DONE

In the morning David Sheldon decided that he was worse. That he wasappreciably weaker there was no doubt, and there were other symptoms thatwere unfavourable. He began his rounds looking for trouble. He wantedtrouble. In full health, the strained situation would have been seriousenough; but as it was, himself growing helpless, something had to bedone. The blacks were getting more sullen and defiant, and theappearance of the men the previous night on his veranda--one of thegravest of offences on Berande--was ominous. Sooner or later they wouldget him, if he did not get them first, if he did not once again sear ontheir dark souls the flaming mastery of the white man. 

He returned to the house disappointed. No opportunity had presenteditself of making an example of insolence or insubordination--such as hadoccurred on every other day since the sickness smote Berande. The factthat none had offended was in itself suspicious. They were growingcrafty. He regretted that he had not waited the night before until theprowlers had entered. Then he might have shot one or two and given therest a new lesson, writ in red, for them to con. It was one man againsttwo hundred, and he was horribly afraid of his sickness overpowering himand leaving him at their mercy. He saw visions of the blacks takingcharge of the plantation, looting the store, burning the buildings, andescaping to Malaita. Also, one gruesome vision he caught of his ownhead, sun-dried and smoke-cured, ornamenting the canoe house of acannibal village. Either the _Jessie_ would have to arrive, or he wouldhave to do something. 

The bell had hardly rung, sending the labourers into the fields, whenSheldon had a visitor. He had had the couch taken out on the veranda, and he was lying on it when the canoes paddled in and hauled out on thebeach. Forty men, armed with spears, bows and arrows, and war-clubs, gathered outside the gate of the compound, but only one entered. Theyknew the law of Berande, as every native knew the law of every whiteman's compound in all the thousand miles of the far-flung Solomons. Theone man who came up the path, Sheldon recognized as Seelee, the chief ofBalesuna village. The savage did not mount the steps, but stood beneathand talked to the white lord above. 

Seelee was more intelligent than the average of his kind, but hisintelligence only emphasized the lowness of that kind. His eyes, closetogether and small, advertised cruelty and craftiness. A gee-string anda cartridge-belt were all the clothes he wore. The carved pearl-shellornament that hung from nose to chin and impeded speech was purelyornamental, as were the holes in his ears mere utilities for carryingpipe and tobacco. His broken-fanged teeth were stained black by betel-nut, the juice of which he spat upon the ground. 

As he talked or listened, he made grimaces like a monkey. He said yes bydropping his eyelids and thrusting his chin forward. He spoke withchildish arrogance strangely at variance with the subservient position heoccupied beneath the veranda. He, with his many followers, was lord andmaster of Balesuna village. But the white man, without followers, waslord and master of Berande--ay, and on occasion, single-handed, had madehimself lord and master of Balesuna village as well. Seelee did not liketo remember that episode. It had occurred in the course of learning thenature of white men and of learning to abominate them. He had once beenguilty of sheltering three runaways from Berande. They had given him allthey possessed in return for the shelter and for promised aid in gettingaway to Malaita. This had given him a glimpse of a profitable future, inwhich his village would serve as the one depot on the underground railwaybetween Berande and Malaita. 

Unfortunately, he was ignorant of the ways of white men. This particularwhite man educated him by arriving at his grass house in the gray ofdawn. In the first moment he had felt amused. He was so perfectly safein the midst of his village. But the next moment, and before he couldcry out, a pair of handcuffs on the white man's knuckles had landed onhis mouth, knocking the cry of alarm back down his throat. Also, thewhite man's other fist had caught him under the ear and left him withoutfurther interest in what was happening. When he came to, he foundhimself in the white man's whale-boat on the way to Berande. At Berandehe had been treated as one of no consequence, with handcuffs on hands andfeet, to say nothing of chains. When his tribe had returned the threerunaways, he was given his freedom. And finally, the terrible white manhad fined him and Balesuna village ten thousand cocoanuts. After that hehad sheltered no more runaway Malaita men. Instead, he had gone into thebusiness of catching them. It was safer. Besides, he was paid one caseof tobacco per head. But if he ever got a chance at that white man, ifhe ever caught him sick or stood at his back when he stumbled and fell ona bush-trail--well, there would be a head that would fetch a price inMalaita. 

Sheldon was pleased with what Seelee told him. The seventh man of thelast batch of runaways had been caught and was even then at the gate. Hewas brought in, heavy-featured and defiant, his arms bound with cocoanutsennit, the dry blood still on his body from the struggle with hiscaptors. 

"Me savvee you good fella, Seelee, " Sheldon said, as the chief gulpeddown a quarter-tumbler of raw trade-gin. "Fella boy belong me you catchshort time little bit. This fella boy strong fella too much. I give youfella one case tobacco--my word, one case tobacco. Then, you good fellaalong me, I give you three fathom calico, one fella knife big fella toomuch. "

The tobacco and trade goods were brought from the storeroom by two house-boys and turned over to the chief of Balesuna village, who accepted theadditional reward with a non-committal grunt and went away down the pathto his canoes. Under Sheldon's directions the house-boys handcuffed theprisoner, by hands and feet, around one of the pile supports of thehouse. At eleven o'clock, when the labourers came in from the field, Sheldon had them assembled in the compound before the veranda. Everyable man was there, including those who were helping about the hospital. Even the women and the several pickaninnies of the plantation were linedup with the rest, two deep--a horde of naked savages a trifle under twohundred strong. In addition to their ornaments of bead and shell andbone, their pierced ears and nostrils were burdened with safety-pins, wire nails, metal hair-pins, rusty iron handles of cooking utensils, andthe patent keys for opening corned beef tins. Some wore penknivesclasped on their kinky locks for safety. On the chest of one a chinadoor-knob was suspended, on the chest of another the brass wheel of analarm clock. 

Facing them, clinging to the railing of the veranda for support, stoodthe sick white man. Any one of them could have knocked him over with theblow of a little finger. Despite his firearms, the gang could haverushed him and delivered that blow, when his head and the plantationwould have been theirs. Hatred and murder and lust for revenge theypossessed to overflowing. But one thing they lacked, the thing that hepossessed, the flame of mastery that would not quench, that burnedfiercely as ever in the disease-wasted body, and that was ever ready toflare forth and scorch and singe them with its ire. 

"Narada! Billy!" Sheldon called sharply. 

Two men slunk unwillingly forward and waited. 

Sheldon gave the keys of the handcuffs to a house-boy, who went under thehouse and loosed the prisoner. 

"You fella Narada, you fella Billy, take um this fella boy along tree andmake fast, hands high up, " was Sheldon's command. 

While this was being done, slowly, amidst mutterings and restlessness onthe part of the onlookers, one of the house-boys fetched a heavy-handled, heavy-lashed whip. Sheldon began a speech. 

"This fella Arunga, me cross along him too much. I no steal this fellaArunga. I no gammon. I say, 'All right, you come along me Berande, workthree fella year. ' He say, 'All right, me come along you work threefella year. ' He come. He catch plenty good fella _kai-kai_, {2} plentygood fella money. What name he run away? Me too much cross along him. Iknock what name outa him fella. I pay Seelee, big fella master alongBalesuna, one case tobacco catch that fella Arunga. All right. Arungapay that fella case tobacco. Six pounds that fella Arunga pay. Allesame one year more that fella Arunga work Berande. All right. Now hecatch ten fella whip three times. You fella Billy catch whip, give thatfella Arunga ten fella three times. All fella boys look see, all fellaMarys {3} look see; bime bye, they like run away they think strong fellatoo much, no run away. Billy, strong fella too much ten fella threetimes. "

The house-boy extended the whip to him, but Billy did not take it. Sheldon waited quietly. The eyes of all the cannibals were fixed uponhim in doubt and fear and eagerness. It was the moment of test, wherebythe lone white man was to live or be lost. 

"Ten fella three times, Billy, " Sheldon said encouragingly, though therewas a certain metallic rasp in his voice. 

Billy scowled, looked up and looked down, but did not move. 

"Billy!"

Sheldon's voice exploded like a pistol shot. The savage startedphysically. Grins overspread the grotesque features of the audience, andthere was a sound of tittering. 

"S'pose you like too much lash that fella Arunga, you take him fellaTulagi, " Billy said. "One fella government agent make plenty lash. Thatum fella law. Me savvee um fella law. "

It was the law, and Sheldon knew it. But he wanted to live this day andthe next day and not to die waiting for the law to operate the next weekor the week after. 

"Too much talk along you!" he cried angrily. "What name eh? What name?"

"Me savvee law, " the savage repeated stubbornly. 

"Astoa!"

Another man stepped forward in almost a sprightly way and glancedinsolently up. Sheldon was selecting the worst characters for thelesson. 

"You fella Astoa, you fella Narada, tie up that fella Billy alongsideother fella same fella way. "

"Strong fella tie, " he cautioned them. 

"You fella Astoa take that fella whip. Plenty strong big fella too muchten fella three times. Savvee!"

"No, " Astoa grunted. 

Sheldon picked up the rifle that had leaned against the rail, and cockedit. 

"I know you, Astoa, " he said calmly. "You work along Queensland sixyears. "

"Me fella missionary, " the black interrupted with deliberate insolence. 

"Queensland you stop jail one fella year. White fella master damn foolno hang you. You too much bad fella. Queensland you stop jail sixmonths two fella time. Two fella time you steal. All right, youmissionary. You savvee one fella prayer?"

"Yes, me savvee prayer, " was the reply. 

"All right, then you pray now, short time little bit. You say one fellaprayer damn quick, then me kill you. "

Sheldon held the rifle on him and waited. The black glanced around athis fellows, but none moved to aid him. They were intent upon the comingspectacle, staring fascinated at the white man with death in his handswho stood alone on the great veranda. Sheldon has won, and he knew it. Astoa changed his weight irresolutely from one foot to the other. Helooked at the white man, and saw his eyes gleaming level along thesights. 

"Astoa, " Sheldon said, seizing the psychological moment, "I count threefella time. Then I shoot you fella dead, good-bye, all finish you. "

And Sheldon knew that when he had counted three he would drop him in histracks. The black knew it, too. That was why Sheldon did not have to doit, for when he had counted one, Astoa reached out his hand and took thewhip. And right well Astoa laid on the whip, angered at his fellows fornot supporting him and venting his anger with every stroke. From theveranda Sheldon egged him on to strike with strength, till the two tricedsavages screamed and howled while the blood oozed down their backs. Thelesson was being well written in red. 

When the last of the gang, including the two howling culprits, had passedout through the compound gate, Sheldon sank down half-fainting on hiscouch. 

"You're a sick man, " he groaned. "A sick man. "

"But you can sleep at ease to-night, " he added, half an hour later. 

CHAPTER III--THE JESSIE

Two days passed, and Sheldon felt that he could not grow any weaker andlive, much less make his four daily rounds of the hospital. The deathswere averaging four a day, and there were more new cases than recoveries. The blacks were in a funk. Each one, when taken sick, seemed to makeevery effort to die. Once down on their backs they lacked the grit tomake a struggle. They believed they were going to die, and they didtheir best to vindicate that belief. Even those that were well were surethat it was only a mater of days when the sickness would catch them andcarry them off. And yet, believing this with absolute conviction, theysomehow lacked the nerve to rush the frail wraith of a man with the whiteskin and escape from the charnel house by the whale-boats. They chosethe lingering death they were sure awaited them, rather than theimmediate death they were very sure would pounce upon them if they wentup against the master. That he never slept, they knew. That he couldnot be conjured to death, they were equally sure--they had tried it. Andeven the sickness that was sweeping them off could not kill him. 

With the whipping in the compound, discipline had improved. They cringedunder the iron hand of the white man. They gave their scowls ormalignant looks with averted faces or when his back was turned. Theysaved their mutterings for the barracks at night, where he could nothear. And there were no more runaways and no more night-prowlers on theveranda. 

Dawn of the third day after the whipping brought the _Jessie's_ whitesails in sight. Eight miles away, it was not till two in the afternoonthat the light air-fans enabled her to drop anchor a quarter of a mileoff the shore. The sight of her gave Sheldon fresh courage, and thetedious hours of waiting did not irk him. He gave his orders to the boss-boys and made his regular trips to the hospital. Nothing mattered now. His troubles were at an end. He could lie down and take care of himselfand proceed to get well. The _Jessie_ had arrived. His partner was onboard, vigorous and hearty from six weeks' recruiting on Malaita. Hecould take charge now, and all would be well with Berande. 

Sheldon lay in the steamer-chair and watched the _Jessie's_ whale-boatpull in for the beach. He wondered why only three sweeps were pulling, and he wondered still more when, beached, there was so much delay ingetting out of the boat. Then he understood. The three blacks who hadbeen pulling started up the beach with a stretcher on their shoulders. Awhite man, whom he recognized as the _Jessie's_ captain, walked in frontand opened the gate, then dropped behind to close it. Sheldon knew thatit was Hughie Drummond who lay in the stretcher, and a mist came beforehis eyes. He felt an overwhelming desire to die. The disappointment wastoo great. In his own state of terrible weakness he felt that it wasimpossible to go on with his task of holding Berande plantation tight-gripped in his fist. Then the will of him flamed up again, and hedirected the blacks to lay the stretcher beside him on the floor. HughieDrummond, whom he had last seen in health, was an emaciated skeleton. Hisclosed eyes were deep-sunken. The shrivelled lips had fallen away fromthe teeth, and the cheek-bones seemed bursting through the skin. Sheldonsent a house-boy for his thermometer and glanced questioningly at thecaptain. 

"Black-water fever, " the captain said. "He's been like this for sixdays, unconscious. And we've got dysentery on board. What's the matterwith you?"

"I'm burying four a day, " Sheldon answered, as he bent over from thesteamer-chair and inserted the thermometer under his partner's tongue. 

Captain Oleson swore blasphemously, and sent a house-boy to bring whiskyand soda. Sheldon glanced at the thermometer. 

"One hundred and seven, " he said. "Poor Hughie. "

Captain Oleson offered him some whisky. 

"Couldn't think of it--perforation, you know, " Sheldon said. 

He sent for a boss-boy and ordered a grave to be dug, also some of thepacking-cases to be knocked together into a coffin. The blacks did notget coffins. They were buried as they died, being carted on a sheet ofgalvanized iron, in their nakedness, from the hospital to the hole in theground. Having given the orders, Sheldon lay back in his chair withclosed eyes. 

"It's ben fair hell, sir, " Captain Oleson began, then broke off to helphimself to more whisky. "It's ben fair hell, Mr. Sheldon, I tell you. Contrary winds and calms. We've ben driftin' all about the shop for tendays. There's ten thousand sharks following us for the tucker we've benthrowin' over to them. They was snappin' at the oars when we started tocome ashore. I wisht to God a nor'wester'd come along an' blow theSolomons clean to hell. "

"We got it from the water--water from Owga creek. Filled my casks withit. How was we to know? I've filled there before an' it was all right. We had sixty recruits-full up; and my crew of fifteen. We've ben buryin'them day an' night. The beggars won't live, damn them! They die out ofspite. Only three of my crew left on its legs. Five more down. Sevendead. Oh, hell! What's the good of talkin'?"

"How many recruits left?" Sheldon asked. 

"Lost half. Thirty left. Twenty down, and ten tottering around. "

Sheldon sighed. 

"That means another addition to the hospital. We've got to get themashore somehow. --Viaburi! Hey, you, Viaburi, ring big fella bell strongfella too much. "

The hands, called in from the fields at that unwonted hour, were splitinto detachments. Some were sent into the woods to cut timber for house-beams, others to cutting cane-grass for thatching, and forty of themlifted a whale-boat above their heads and carried it down to the sea. Sheldon had gritted his teeth, pulled his collapsing soul together, andtaken Berande plantation into his fist once more. 

"Have you seen the barometer?" Captain Oleson asked, pausing at thebottom of the steps on his way to oversee the disembarkation of the sick. 

"No, " Sheldon answered. "Is it down?"

"It's going down. "

"Then you'd better sleep aboard to-night, " was Sheldon's judgment. "Nevermind the funeral. I'll see to poor Hughie. "

"A nigger was kicking the bucket when I dropped anchor. "

The captain made the statement as a simple fact, but obviously waited fora suggestion. The other felt a sudden wave of irritation rush throughhim. 

"Dump him over, " he cried. "Great God, man! don't you think I've gotenough graves ashore?"

"I just wanted to know, that was all, " the captain answered, in no wiseoffended. 

Sheldon regretted his childishness. 

"Oh, Captain Oleson, " he called. "If you can see your way to it, comeashore to-morrow and lend me a hand. If you can't, send the mate. "

"Right O. I'll come myself. Mr. Johnson's dead, sir. I forgot to tellyou--three days ago. "

Sheldon watched the _Jessie's_ captain go down the path, with waving armsand loud curses calling upon God to sink the Solomons. Next, Sheldonnoted the _Jessie_ rolling lazily on the glassy swell, and beyond, in thenorth-west, high over Florida Island, an alpine chain of dark-massedclouds. Then he turned to his partner, calling for boys to carry himinto the house. But Hughie Drummond had reached the end. His breathingwas imperceptible. By mere touch, Sheldon could ascertain that the dyingman's temperature was going down. It must have been going down when thethermometer registered one hundred and seven. He had burned out. Sheldonknelt beside him, the house-boys grouped around, their white singlets andloin-cloths peculiarly at variance with their dark skins and savagecountenances, their huge ear-plugs and carved and glistening nose-rings. Sheldon tottered to his feet at last, and half-fell into thesteamer-chair. Oppressive as the heat had been, it was now even moreoppressive. It was difficult to breathe. He panted for air. The facesand naked arms of the house-boys were beaded with sweat. 

"Marster, " one of them ventured, "big fella wind he come, strong fellatoo much. "

Sheldon nodded his head but did not look. Much as he had loved HughieDrummond, his death, and the funeral it entailed, seemed an intolerableburden to add to what he was already sinking under. He had afeeling--nay, it was a certitude--that all he had to do was to shut hiseyes and let go, and that he would die, sink into immensity of rest. Heknew it; it was very simple. All he had to do was close his eyes and letgo; for he had reached the stage where he lived by will alone. His wearybody seemed torn by the oncoming pangs of dissolution. He was a fool tohang on. He had died a score of deaths already, and what was the use ofprolonging it to two-score deaths before he really died. Not only was henot afraid to die, but he desired to die. His weary flesh and wearyspirit desired it, and why should the flame of him not go utterly out?

But his mind that could will life or death, still pulsed on. He saw thetwo whale-boats land on the beach, and the sick, on stretchers or pick-a-back, groaning and wailing, go by in lugubrious procession. He saw thewind making on the clouded horizon, and thought of the sick in thehospital. Here was something waiting his hand to be done, and it was notin his nature to lie down and sleep, or die, when any task remainedundone. 

The boss-boys were called and given their orders to rope down thehospital with its two additions. He remembered the spare anchor-chain, new and black-painted, that hung under the house suspended from the floor-beams, and ordered it to be used on the hospital as well. Other boysbrought the coffin, a grotesque patchwork of packing-cases, and under hisdirections they laid Hughie Drummond in it. Half a dozen boys carried itdown the beach, while he rode on the back of another, his arms around theblack's neck, one hand clutching a prayer-book. 

While he read the service, the blacks gazed apprehensively at the darkline on the water, above which rolled and tumbled the racing clouds. Thefirst breath of the wind, faint and silken, tonic with life, fannedthrough his dry-baked body as he finished reading. Then came the secondbreath of the wind, an angry gust, as the shovels worked rapidly, fillingin the sand. So heavy was the gust that Sheldon, still on his feet, seized hold of his man-horse to escape being blown away. The _Jessie_was blotted out, and a strange ominous sound arose as multitudinouswavelets struck foaming on the beach. It was like the bubbling of somecolossal cauldron. From all about could be heard the dull thudding offalling cocoanuts. The tall, delicate-trunked trees twisted and snappedabout like whip-lashes. The air seemed filled with their flying leaves, any one of which, stem-on could brain a man. Then came the rain, adeluge, a straight, horizontal sheet that poured along like a river, defying gravitation. The black, with Sheldon mounted on him, plungedahead into the thick of it, stooping far forward and low to the ground toavoid being toppled over backward. 

"'He's sleeping out and far to-night, '" Sheldon quoted, as he thought ofthe dead man in the sand and the rainwater trickling down upon the coldclay. 

So they fought their way back up the beach. The other blacks caught holdof the man-horse and pulled and tugged. There were among them thosewhose fondest desire was to drag the rider in the sand and spring uponhim and mash him into repulsive nothingness. But the automatic pistol inhis belt with its rattling, quick-dealing death, and the automatic, death-defying spirit in the man himself, made them refrain and buckle down tothe task of hauling him to safety through the storm. 

Wet through and exhausted, he was nevertheless surprised at the ease withwhich he got into a change of clothing. Though he was fearfully weak, hefound himself actually feeling better. The disease had spent itself, andthe mend had begun. 

"Now if I don't get the fever, " he said aloud, and at the same momentresolved to go to taking quinine as soon as he was strong enough to dare. 

He crawled out on the veranda. The rain had ceased, but the wind, whichhad dwindled to a half-gale, was increasing. A big sea had sprung up, and the mile-long breakers, curling up to the over-fall two hundred yardsfrom shore, were crashing on the beach. The _Jessie_ was plunging madlyto two anchors, and every second or third sea broke clear over her bow. Two flags were stiffly undulating from the halyards like squares offlexible sheet-iron. One was blue, the other red. He knew their meaningin the Berande private code--"What are your instructions? Shall Iattempt to land boat?" Tacked on the wall, between the signal locker andthe billiard rules, was the code itself, by which he verified the signalbefore making answer. On the flagstaff gaff a boy hoisted a white flagover a red, which stood for--"Run to Neal Island for shelter. "

That Captain Oleson had been expecting this signal was apparent by thecelerity with which the shackles were knocked out of both anchor-chains. He slipped his anchors, leaving them buoyed to be picked up in betterweather. The _Jessie_ swung off under her full staysail, then theforesail, double-reefed, was run up. She was away like a racehorse, clearing Balesuna Shoal with half a cable-length to spare. Just beforeshe rounded the point she was swallowed up in a terrific squall that farout-blew the first. 

All that night, while squall after squall smote Berande, uprooting trees, overthrowing copra-sheds, and rocking the house on its tall piles, Sheldon slept. He was unaware of the commotion. He never wakened. Nordid he change his position or dream. He awoke, a new man. Furthermore, he was hungry. It was over a week since food had passed his lips. Hedrank a glass of condensed cream, thinned with water, and by ten o'clockhe dared to take a cup of beef-tea. He was cheered, also, by thesituation in the hospital. Despite the storm there had been but onedeath, and there was only one fresh case, while half a dozen boys crawledweakly away to the barracks. He wondered if it was the wind that wasblowing the disease away and cleansing the pestilential land. 

By eleven a messenger arrived from Balesuna village, dispatched bySeelee. The _Jessie_ had gone ashore half-way between the village andNeal Island. It was not till nightfall that two of the crew arrived, reporting the drowning of Captain Oleson and of the one remaining boy. Asfor the _Jessie_, from what they told him Sheldon could not but concludethat she was a total loss. Further to hearten him, he was taken by ashivering fit. In half an hour he was burning up. And he knew that atleast another day must pass before he could undertake even the smallestdose of quinine. He crawled under a heap of blankets, and a little laterfound himself laughing aloud. He had surely reached the limit ofdisaster. Barring earthquake or tidal-wave, the worst had alreadybefallen him. The _Flibberty-Gibbet_ was certainly safe in Mboli Pass. Since nothing worse could happen, things simply had to mend. So it was, shivering under his blankets, that he laughed, until the house-boys, withheads together, marvelled at the devils that were in him. 

CHAPTER IV--JOAN LACKLAND

By the second day of the northwester, Sheldon was in collapse from hisfever. It had taken an unfair advantage of his weak state, and though itwas only ordinary malarial fever, in forty-eight hours it had run him aslow as ten days of fever would have done when he was in condition. Butthe dysentery had been swept away from Berande. A score of convalescentslingered in the hospital, but they were improving hourly. There had beenbut one more death--that of the man whose brother had wailed over himinstead of brushing the flies away. 

On the morning of the fourth day of his fever, Sheldon lay on theveranda, gazing dimly out over the raging ocean. The wind was falling, but a mighty sea was still thundering in on Berande beach, the flyingspray reaching in as far as the flagstaff mounds, the foaming washcreaming against the gate-posts. He had taken thirty grains of quinine, and the drug was buzzing in his ears like a nest of hornets, making hishands and knees tremble, and causing a sickening palpitation of thestomach. Once, opening his eyes, he saw what he took to be anhallucination. Not far out, and coming in across the _Jessie's_anchorage, he saw a whale-boat's nose thrust skyward on a smoky crest anddisappear naturally, as an actual whale-boat's nose should disappear, asit slid down the back of the sea. He knew that no whale-boat should beout there, and he was quite certain no men in the Solomons were madenough to be abroad in such a storm. 

But the hallucination persisted. A minute later, chancing to open hiseyes, he saw the whale-boat, full length, and saw right into it as itrose on the face of a wave. He saw six sweeps at work, and in the stern, clearly outlined against the overhanging wall of white, a man who stooderect, gigantic, swaying with his weight on the steering-sweep. This hesaw, and an eighth man who crouched in the bow and gazed shoreward. Butwhat startled Sheldon was the sight of a woman in the stern-sheets, between the stroke-oar and the steersman. A woman she was, for a braidof her hair was flying, and she was just in the act of recapturing it andstowing it away beneath a hat that for all the world was like his own"Baden-Powell. "

The boat disappeared behind the wave, and rose into view on the face ofthe following one. Again he looked into it. The men were dark-skinned, and larger than Solomon Islanders, but the woman, he could plainly see, was white. Who she was, and what she was doing there, were thoughts thatdrifted vaguely through his consciousness. He was too sick to be vitallyinterested, and, besides, he had a half feeling that it was all a dream;but he noted that the men were resting on their sweeps, while the womanand the steersman were intently watching the run of seas behind them. 

"Good boatmen, " was Sheldon's verdict, as he saw the boat leap forward onthe face of a huge breaker, the sweeps plying swiftly to keep her on thatfront of the moving mountain of water that raced madly for the shore. Itwas well done. Part full of water, the boat was flung upon the beach, the men springing out and dragging its nose to the gate-posts. Sheldonhad called vainly to the house-boys, who, at the moment, were dosing theremaining patients in the hospital. He knew he was unable to rise up andgo down the path to meet the newcomers, so he lay back in the steamer-chair, and watched for ages while they cared for the boat. The womanstood to one side, her hand resting on the gate. Occasionally surges ofsea water washed over her feet, which he could see were encased in rubbersea-boots. She scrutinized the house sharply, and for some time shegazed at him steadily. At last, speaking to two of the men, who turnedand followed her, she started up the path. 

Sheldon attempted to rise, got half up out of his chair, and fell backhelplessly. He was surprised at the size of the men, who loomed likegiants behind her. Both were six-footers, and they were heavy inproportion. He had never seen islanders like them. They were not blacklike the Solomon Islanders, but light brown; and their features werelarger, more regular, and even handsome. 

The woman--or girl, rather, he decided--walked along the veranda towardhim. The two men waited at the head of the steps, watching curiously. The girl was angry; he could see that. Her gray eyes were flashing, andher lips were quivering. That she had a temper, was his thought. Butthe eyes were striking. He decided that they were not gray after all, or, at least, not all gray. They were large and wide apart, and theylooked at him from under level brows. Her face was cameo-like, so clearcut was it. There were other striking things about her--the cowboyStetson hat, the heavy braids of brown hair, and the long-barrelled 38Colt's revolver that hung in its holster on her hip. 

"Pretty hospitality, I must say, " was her greeting, "letting strangerssink or swim in your front yard. "

"I--I beg your pardon, " he stammered, by a supreme effort dragginghimself to his feet. 

His legs wobbled under him, and with a suffocating sensation he begansinking to the floor. He was aware of a feeble gratification as he sawsolicitude leap into her eyes; then blackness smote him, and at themoment of smiting him his thought was that at last, and for the firsttime in his life, he had fainted. 

The ringing of the big bell aroused him. He opened his eyes and foundthat he was on the couch indoors. A glance at the clock told him that itwas six, and from the direction the sun's rays streamed into the room heknew that it was morning. At first he puzzled over something untoward hewas sure had happened. Then on the wall he saw a Stetson hat hanging, and beneath it a full cartridge-belt and a long-barrelled 38 Colt'srevolver. The slender girth of the belt told its feminine story, and heremembered the whale-boat of the day before and the gray eyes thatflashed beneath the level brows. She it must have been who had just rungthe bell. The cares of the plantation rushed upon him, and he sat up inbed, clutching at the wall for support as the mosquito screen lurcheddizzily around him. He was still sitting there, holding on, with eyesclosed, striving to master his giddiness, when he heard her voice. 

"You'll lie right down again, sir, " she said. 

It was sharply imperative, a voice used to command. At the same time onehand pressed him back toward the pillow while the other caught him frombehind and eased him down. 

"You've been unconscious for twenty-four hours now, " she went on, "and Ihave taken charge. When I say the word you'll get up, and not untilthen. Now, what medicine do you take?--quinine? Here are ten grains. That's right. You'll make a good patient. "

"My dear madame, " he began. 

"You musn't speak, " she interrupted, "that is, in protest. Otherwise, you can talk. "

"But the plantation--"

"A dead man is of no use on a plantation. Don't you want to know about_me_? My vanity is hurt. Here am I, just through my first shipwreck;and here are you, not the least bit curious, talking about your miserableplantation. Can't you see that I am just bursting to tell somebody, anybody, about my shipwreck?"

He smiled; it was the first time in weeks. And he smiled, not so much atwhat she said, as at the way she said it--the whimsical expression of herface, the laughter in her eyes, and the several tiny lines of humour thatdrew in at the corners. He was curiously wondering as to what her agewas, as he said aloud:

"Yes, tell me, please. "

"That I will not--not now, " she retorted, with a toss of the head. "I'llfind somebody to tell my story to who does not have to be asked. Also, Iwant information. I managed to find out what time to ring the bell toturn the hands to, and that is about all. I don't understand theridiculous speech of your people. What time do they knock off?"

"At eleven--go on again at one. "

"That will do, thank you. And now, where do you keep the key to theprovisions? I want to feed my men. "

"Your men!" he gasped. "On tinned goods! No, no. Let them go out andeat with my boys. "

Her eyes flashed as on the day before, and he saw again the imperativeexpression on her face. 

"That I won't; my men are _men_. I've been out to your miserablebarracks and watched them eat. Faugh! Potatoes! Nothing but potatoes!No salt! Nothing! Only potatoes! I may have been mistaken, but Ithought I understood them to say that that was all they ever got to eat. Two meals a day and every day in the week?"

He nodded. 

"Well, my men wouldn't stand that for a single day, much less a wholeweek. Where is the key?"

"Hanging on that clothes-hook under the clock. "

He gave it easily enough, but as she was reaching down the key she heardhim say:

"Fancy niggers and tinned provisions. "

This time she really was angry. The blood was in her cheeks as sheturned on him. 

"My men are not niggers. The sooner you understand that the better forour acquaintance. As for the tinned goods, I'll pay for all they eat. Please don't worry about that. Worry is not good for you in yourcondition. And I won't stay any longer than I have to--just long enoughto get you on your feet, and not go away with the feeling of havingdeserted a white man. "

"You're American, aren't you?" he asked quietly. 

The question disconcerted her for the moment. 

"Yes, " she vouchsafed, with a defiant look. "Why?"

"Nothing. I merely thought so. "

"Anything further?"

He shook his head. 

"Why?" he asked. 

"Oh, nothing. I thought you might have something pleasant to say. "

"My name is Sheldon, David Sheldon, " he said, with direct relevance, holding out a thin hand. 

Her hand started out impulsively, then checked. "My name is Lackland, Joan Lackland. " The hand went out. "And let us be friends. "

"It could not be otherwise--" he began lamely. 

"And I can feed my men all the tinned goods I want?" she rushed on. 

"Till the cows come home, " he answered, attempting her own lightness, then adding, "that is, to Berande. You see we don't have any cows atBerande. "

She fixed him coldly with her eyes. 

"Is that a joke?" she demanded. 

"I really don't know--I--I thought it was, but then, you see, I'm sick. "

"You're English, aren't you?" was her next query. 

"Now that's too much, even for a sick man, " he cried. "You know wellenough that I am. "

"Oh, " she said absently, "then you are?"

He frowned, tightened his lips, then burst into laughter, in which shejoined. 

"It's my own fault, " he confessed. "I shouldn't have baited you. I'llbe careful in the future. "

"In the meantime go on laughing, and I'll see about breakfast. Is thereanything you would fancy?"

He shook his head. 

"It will do you good to eat something. Your fever has burned out, andyou are merely weak. Wait a moment. "

She hurried out of the room in the direction of the kitchen, tripped atthe door in a pair of sandals several sizes too large for her feet, anddisappeared in rosy confusion. 

"By Jove, those are my sandals, " he thought to himself. "The girl hasn'ta thing to wear except what she landed on the beach in, and she certainlylanded in sea-boots. "

CHAPTER V--SHE WOULD A PLANTER BE

Sheldon mended rapidly. The fever had burned out, and there was nothingfor him to do but gather strength. Joan had taken the cook in hand, andfor the first time, as Sheldon remarked, the chop at Berande was whiteman's chop. With her own hands Joan prepared the sick man's food, andbetween that and the cheer she brought him, he was able, after two days, to totter feebly out upon the veranda. The situation struck him asstrange, and stranger still was the fact that it did not seem strange tothe girl at all. She had settled down and taken charge of the householdas a matter of course, as if he were her father, or brother, or as if shewere a man like himself. 

"It is just too delightful for anything, " she assured him. "It is like apage out of some romance. Here I come along out of the sea and find asick man all alone with two hundred slaves--"

"Recruits, " he corrected. "Contract labourers. They serve only threeyears, and they are free agents when they enter upon their contracts. "

"Yes, yes, " she hurried on. "--A sick man alone with two hundredrecruits on a cannibal island--they are cannibals, aren't they? Or is itall talk?"

"Talk!" he said, with a smile. "It's a trifle more than that. Most ofmy boys are from the bush, and every bushman is a cannibal. "

"But not after they become recruits? Surely, the boys you have herewouldn't be guilty. "

"They'd eat you if the chance afforded. "

"Are you just saying so, on theory, or do you really know?" she asked. 

"I know. "

"Why? What makes you think so? Your own men here?"

"Yes, my own men here, the very house-boys, the cook that at the presentmoment is making such delicious rolls, thanks to you. Not more thanthree months ago eleven of them sneaked a whale-boat and ran for Malaita. Nine of them belonged to Malaita. Two were bushmen from San Cristoval. They were fools--the two from San Cristoval, I mean; so would any twoMalaita men be who trusted themselves in a boat with nine from SanCristoval. "

"Yes?" she asked eagerly. "Then what happened?"

"The nine Malaita men ate the two from San Cristoval, all except theheads, which are too valuable for mere eating. They stowed them away inthe stern-locker till they landed. And those two heads are now in somebush village back of Langa Langa. "

She clapped her hands and her eyes sparkled. "They are really and trulycannibals! And just think, this is the twentieth century! And I thoughtromance and adventure were fossilized!"

He looked at her with mild amusement. 

"What is the matter now?" she queried. 

"Oh, nothing, only I don't fancy being eaten by a lot of filthy niggersis the least bit romantic. "

"No, of course not, " she admitted. "But to be among them, controllingthem, directing them, two hundred of them, and to escape being eaten bythem--that, at least, if it isn't romantic, is certainly the quintessenceof adventure. And adventure and romance are allied, you know. "

"By the same token, to go into a nigger's stomach should be thequintessence of adventure, " he retorted. 

"I don't think you have any romance in you, " she exclaimed. "You're justdull and sombre and sordid like the business men at home. I don't knowwhy you're here at all. You should be at home placidly vegetating as abanker's clerk or--or--"

"A shopkeeper's assistant, thank you. "

"Yes, that--anything. What under the sun are you doing here on the edgeof things?"

"Earning my bread and butter, trying to get on in the world. "

"'By the bitter road the younger son must tread, Ere he win to hearth andsaddle of his own, '" she quoted. "Why, if that isn't romantic, thennothing is romantic. Think of all the younger sons out over the world, on a myriad of adventures winning to those same hearths and saddles. Andhere you are in the thick of it, doing it, and here am I in the thick ofit, doing it. "

"I--I beg pardon, " he drawled. 

"Well, I'm a younger daughter, then, " she amended; "and I have no hearthnor saddle--I haven't anybody or anything--and I'm just as far on theedge of things as you are. "

"In your case, then, I'll admit there is a bit of romance, " he confessed. 

He could not help but think of the preceding nights, and of her sleepingin the hammock on the veranda, under mosquito curtains, her bodyguard ofTahitian sailors stretched out at the far corner of the veranda withincall. He had been too helpless to resist, but now he resolved she shouldhave his couch inside while he would take the hammock. 

"You see, I had read and dreamed about romance all my life, " she wassaying, "but I never, in my wildest fancies, thought that I should liveit. It was all so unexpected. Two years ago I thought there was nothingleft to me but. . . . " She faltered, and made a _moue_ of distaste. "Well, the only thing that remained, it seemed to me, was marriage. "

"And you preferred a cannibal isle and a cartridge-belt?" he suggested. 

"I didn't think of the cannibal isle, but the cartridge-belt wasblissful. "

"You wouldn't dare use the revolver if you were compelled to. Or, "noting the glint in her eyes, "if you did use it, to--well, to hitanything. "

She started up suddenly to enter the house. He knew she was going forher revolver. 

"Never mind, " he said, "here's mine. What can you do with it?"

"Shoot the block off your flag-halyards. "

He smiled his unbelief. 

"I don't know the gun, " she said dubiously. 

"It's a light trigger and you don't have to hold down. Draw fine. "

"Yes, yes, " she spoke impatiently. "I know automatics--they jam whenthey get hot--only I don't know yours. " She looked at it a moment. "It'scocked. Is there a cartridge in the chamber?"

She fired, and the block remained intact. 

"It's a long shot, " he said, with the intention of easing her chagrin. 

But she bit her lip and fired again. The bullet emitted a sharp shriekas it ricochetted into space. The metal block rattled back and forth. Again and again she fired, till the clip was emptied of its eightcartridges. Six of them were hits. The block still swayed at the gaff-end, but it was battered out of all usefulness. Sheldon was astonished. It was better than he or even Hughie Drummond could have done. The womenhe had known, when they sporadically fired a rifle or revolver, usuallyshrieked, shut their eyes, and blazed away into space. 

"That's really good shooting . . . For a woman, " he said. "You onlymissed it twice, and it was a strange weapon. "

"But I can't make out the two misses, " she complained. "The gun workedbeautifully, too. Give me another clip and I'll hit it eight times foranything you wish. "

"I don't doubt it. Now I'll have to get a new block. Viaburi! Here youfella, catch one fella block along storeroom. "

"I'll wager you can't do it eight out of eight . . . Anything you wish, "she challenged. 

"No fear of my taking it on, " was his answer. "Who taught you to shoot?"

"Oh, my father, at first, and then Von, and his cowboys. He was ashot--Dad, I mean, though Von was splendid, too. "

Sheldon wondered secretly who Von was, and he speculated as to whether itwas Von who two years previously had led her to believe that nothingremained for her but matrimony. 

"What part of the United States is your home?" he asked. "Chicago orWyoming? or somewhere out there? You know you haven't told me a thingabout yourself. All that I know is that you are Miss Joan Lackland fromanywhere. "

"You'd have to go farther west to find my stamping grounds. "

"Ah, let me see--Nevada?"

She shook her head. 

"California?"

"Still farther west. "

"It can't be, or else I've forgotten my geography. "

"It's your politics, " she laughed. "Don't you remember 'Annexation'?"

"The Philippines!" he cried triumphantly. 

"No, Hawaii. I was born there. It is a beautiful land. My, I'm almosthomesick for it already. Not that I haven't been away. I was in NewYork when the crash came. But I do think it is the sweetest spot onearth--Hawaii, I mean. "

"Then what under the sun are you doing down here in this God-forsakenplace?" he asked. "Only fools come here, " he added bitterly. 

"Nielsen wasn't a fool, was he?" she queried. "As I understand, he madethree millions here. "

"Only too true, and that fact is responsible for my being here. "

"And for me, too, " she said. "Dad heard about him in the Marquesas, andso we started. Only poor Dad didn't get here. "

"He--your father--died?" he faltered. 

She nodded, and her eyes grew soft and moist. 

"I might as well begin at the beginning. " She lifted her head with aproud air of dismissing sadness, after, the manner of a woman qualifiedto wear a Baden-Powell and a long-barrelled Colt's. "I was born at Hilo. That's on the island of Hawaii--the biggest and best in the whole group. I was brought up the way most girls in Hawaii are brought up. They livein the open, and they know how to ride and swim before they know what six-times-six is. As for me, I can't remember when I first got on a horsenor when I learned to swim. That came before my A B C's. Dad ownedcattle ranches on Hawaii and Maui--big ones, for the islands. Hokuna hadtwo hundred thousand acres alone. It extended in between Mauna Koa andMauna Loa, and it was there I learned to shoot goats and wild cattle. OnMolokai they have big spotted deer. Von was the manager of Hokuna. Hehad two daughters about my own age, and I always spent the hot seasonthere, and, once, a whole year. The three of us were like Indians. Notthat we ran wild, exactly, but that we were wild to run wild. There werealways the governesses, you know, and lessons, and sewing, andhousekeeping; but I'm afraid we were too often bribed to our tasks withpromises of horses or of cattle drives. 

"Von had been in the army, and Dad was an old sea-dog, and they were bothstern disciplinarians; only the two girls had no mother, and neither hadI, and they were two men after all. They spoiled us terribly. You see, they didn't have any wives, and they made chums out of us--when our taskswere done. We had to learn to do everything about the house twice aswell as the native servants did it--that was so that we should know howto manage some day. And we always made the cocktails, which was too holya rite for any servant. Then, too, we were never allowed anything wecould not take care of ourselves. Of course the cowboys always roped andsaddled our horses, but we had to be able ourselves to go out in thepaddock and rope our horses--"

"What do you mean by _rope_?" Sheldon asked. 

"To lariat them, to lasso them. And Dad and Von timed us in the saddlingand made a most rigid examination of the result. It was the same waywith our revolvers and rifles. The house-boys always cleaned them andgreased them; but we had to learn how in order to see that they did itproperly. More than once, at first, one or the other of us had ourrifles taken away for a week just because of a tiny speck of rust. Wehad to know how to build fires in the driving rain, too, out of wet wood, when we camped out, which was the hardest thing of all--except grammar, Ido believe. We learned more from Dad and Von than from the governesses;Dad taught us French and Von German. We learned both languages passablywell, and we learned them wholly in the saddle or in camp. 

"In the cool season the girls used to come down and visit me in Hilo, where Dad had two houses, one at the beach, or the three of us used to godown to our place in Puna, and that meant canoes and boats and fishingand swimming. Then, too, Dad belonged to the Royal Hawaiian Yacht Club, and took us racing and cruising. Dad could never get away from the sea, you know. When I was fourteen I was Dad's actual housekeeper, withentire power over the servants, and I am very proud of that period of mylife. And when I was sixteen we three girls were all sent up toCalifornia to Mills Seminary, which was quite fashionable and stifling. How we used to long for home! We didn't chum with the other girls, whocalled us little cannibals, just because we came from the SandwichIslands, and who made invidious remarks about our ancestors banqueting onCaptain Cook--which was historically untrue, and, besides, our ancestorshadn't lived in Hawaii. 

"I was three years at Mills Seminary, with trips home, of course, and twoyears in New York; and then Dad went smash in a sugar plantation on Maui. The report of the engineers had not been right. Then Dad had built arailroad that was called 'Lackland's Folly, '--it will pay ultimately, though. But it contributed to the smash. The Pelaulau Ditch was thefinishing blow. And nothing would have happened anyway, if it hadn'tbeen for that big money panic in Wall Street. Dear good Dad! He neverlet me know. But I read about the crash in a newspaper, and hurriedhome. It was before that, though, that people had been dinging into myears that marriage was all any woman could get out of life, and good-byeto romance. Instead of which, with Dad's failure, I fell right intoromance. "

"How long ago was that?" Sheldon asked. 

"Last year--the year of the panic. "

"Let me see, " Sheldon pondered with an air of gravity. "Sixteen plusfive, plus one, equals twenty-two. You were born in 1887?"

"Yes; but it is not nice of you. "

"I am really sorry, " he said, "but the problem was so obvious. "

"Can't you ever say nice things? Or is it the way you English have?"There was a snap in her gray eyes, and her lips quivered suspiciously fora moment. "I should recommend, Mr. Sheldon, that you read GertrudeAtherton's 'American Wives and English Husbands. '"

"Thank you, I have. It's over there. " He pointed at the generouslyfilled bookshelves. "But I am afraid it is rather partisan. "

"Anything un-English is bound to be, " she retorted. "I never have likedthe English anyway. The last one I knew was an overseer. Dad wascompelled to discharge him. "

"One swallow doesn't make a summer. "

"But that Englishman made lots of trouble--there! And now please don'tmake me any more absurd than I already am. "

"I'm trying not to. "

"Oh, for that matter--" She tossed her head, opened her mouth tocomplete the retort, then changed her mind. "I shall go on with myhistory. Dad had practically nothing left, and he decided to return tothe sea. He'd always loved it, and I half believe that he was gladthings had happened as they did. He was like a boy again, busy withplans and preparations from morning till night. He used to sit up halfthe night talking things over with me. That was after I had shown himthat I was really resolved to go along. 

"He had made his start, you know, in the South Seas--pearls and pearlshell--and he was sure that more fortunes, in trove of one sort andanother, were to be picked up. Cocoanut-planting was his particularidea, with trading, and maybe pearling, along with other things, untilthe plantation should come into bearing. He traded off his yacht for aschooner, the _Miele_, and away we went. I took care of him and studiednavigation. He was his own skipper. We had a Danish mate, Mr. Ericson, and a mixed crew of Japanese and Hawaiians. We went up and down the LineIslands, first, until Dad was heartsick. Everything was changed. Theyhad been annexed and divided by one power or another, while big companieshad stepped in and gobbled land, trading rights, fishing rights, everything. 

"Next we sailed for the Marquesas. They were beautiful, but the nativeswere nearly extinct. Dad was cut up when he learned that the Frenchcharged an export duty on copra--he called it medieval--but he liked theland. There was a valley of fifteen thousand acres on Nuka-hiva, halfinclosing a perfect anchorage, which he fell in love with and bought fortwelve hundred Chili dollars. But the French taxation was outrageous(that was why the land was so cheap), and, worst of all, we could obtainno labour. What kanakas there were wouldn't work, and the officialsseemed to sit up nights thinking out new obstacles to put in our way. 

"Six months was enough for Dad. The situation was hopeless. 'We'll goto the Solomons, ' he said, 'and get a whiff of English rule. And ifthere are no openings there we'll go on to the Bismarck Archipelago. I'llwager the Admiraltys are not yet civilized. ' All preparations were made, things packed on board, and a new crew of Marquesans and Tahitiansshipped. We were just ready to start to Tahiti, where a lot of repairsand refitting for the _Miele_ were necessary, when poor Dad came downsick and died. "

"And you were left all alone?"

Joan nodded. 

"Very much alone. I had no brothers nor sisters, and all Dad's peoplewere drowned in a Kansas cloud-burst. That happened when he was a littleboy. Of course, I could go back to Von. There's always a home therewaiting for me. But why should I go? Besides, there were Dad's plans, and I felt that it devolved upon me to carry them out. It seemed a finething to do. Also, I wanted to carry them out. And . . . Here I am. 

"Take my advice and never go to Tahiti. It is a lovely place, and so arethe natives. But the white people! Now Barabbas lived in Tahiti. Thieves, robbers, and lairs--that is what they are. The honest menwouldn't require the fingers of one hand to count. The fact that I was awoman only simplified matters with them. They robbed me on everypretext, and they lied without pretext or need. Poor Mr. Ericson wascorrupted. He joined the robbers, and O. K. 'd all their demands even upto a thousand per cent. If they robbed me of ten francs, his share wasthree. One bill of fifteen hundred francs I paid, netted him fivehundred francs. All this, of course, I learned afterward. But the_Miele_ was old, the repairs had to be made, and I was charged, not threeprices, but seven prices. 

"I never shall know how much Ericson got out of it. He lived ashore in anicely furnished house. The shipwrights were giving it to him rent-free. Fruit, vegetables, fish, meat, and ice came to this house every day, andhe paid for none of it. It was part of his graft from the variousmerchants. And all the while, with tears in his eyes, he bemoaned thevile treatment I was receiving from the gang. No, I did not fall amongthieves. I went to Tahiti. 

"But when the robbers fell to cheating one another, I got my first cluesto the state of affairs. One of the robbed robbers came to me afterdark, with facts, figures, and assertions. I knew I was ruined if I wentto law. The judges were corrupt like everything else. But I did do onething. In the dead of night I went to Ericson's house. I had the samerevolver I've got now, and I made him stay in bed while I overhauledthings. Nineteen hundred and odd francs was what I carried away with me. He never complained to the police, and he never came back on board. Asfor the rest of the gang, they laughed and snapped their fingers at me. There were two Americans in the place, and they warned me to leave thelaw alone unless I wanted to leave the _Miele_ behind as well. 

"Then I sent to New Zealand and got a German mate. He had a master'scertificate, and was on the ship's papers as captain, but I was a betternavigator than he, and I was really captain myself. I lost her, too, butit's no reflection on my seamanship. We were drifting four days outsidethere in dead calms. Then the nor'wester caught us and drove us on thelee shore. We made sail and tried to clew off, when the rotten work ofthe Tahiti shipwrights became manifest. Our jib-boom and all our head-stays carried away. Our only chance was to turn and run through thepassage between Florida and Ysabel. And when we were safely through, inthe twilight, where the chart shows fourteen fathoms as the shoalestwater, we smashed on a coral patch. The poor old _Miele_ struck onlyonce, and then went clear; but it was too much for her, and we just hadtime to clear away in the boat when she went down. The German mate wasdrowned. We lay all night to a sea-drag, and next morning sighted yourplace here. "

"I suppose you will go back to Von, now?" Sheldon queried. 

"Nothing of the sort. Dad planned to go to the Solomons. I shall lookabout for some land and start a small plantation. Do you know any goodland around here? Cheap?"

"By George, you Yankees are remarkable, really remarkable, " said Sheldon. "I should never have dreamed of such a venture. "

"Adventure, " Joan corrected him. 

"That's right--adventure it is. And if you'd gone ashore on Malaitainstead of Guadalcanar you'd have been _kai-kai'd_ long ago, along withyour noble Tahitian sailors. "

Joan shuddered. 

"To tell the truth, " she confessed, "we were very much afraid to land onGuadalcanar. I read in the 'Sailing Directions' that the natives weretreacherous and hostile. Some day I should like to go to Malaita. Arethere any plantations there?"

"Not one. Not a white trader even. "

"Then I shall go over on a recruiting vessel some time. "

"Impossible!" Sheldon cried. "It is no place for a woman. "

"I shall go just the same, " she repeated. 

"But no self-respecting woman--"

"Be careful, " she warned him. "I shall go some day, and then you may besorry for the names you have called me. "

CHAPTER VI--TEMPEST

It was the first time Sheldon had been at close quarters with an Americangirl, and he would have wondered if all American girls were like JoanLackland had he not had wit enough to realize that she was not at alltypical. Her quick mind and changing moods bewildered him, while heroutlook on life was so different from what he conceived a woman's outlookshould be, that he was more often than not at sixes and sevens with her. He could never anticipate what she would say or do next. Of only onething was he sure, and that was that whatever she said or did was boundto be unexpected and unsuspected. There seemed, too, something almosthysterical in her make-up. Her temper was quick and stormy, and sherelied too much on herself and too little on him, which did notapproximate at all to his ideal of woman's conduct when a man was around. Her assumption of equality with him was disconcerting, and at times hehalf-consciously resented the impudence and bizarreness of her intrusionupon him--rising out of the sea in a howling nor'wester, fresh frompoking her revolver under Ericson's nose, protected by her gang of hugePolynesian sailors, and settling down in Berande like any shipwreckedsailor. It was all on a par with her Baden-Powell and the long 38Colt's. 

At any rate, she did not look the part. And that was what he could notforgive. Had she been short-haired, heavy-jawed, large-muscled, hard-bitten, and utterly unlovely in every way, all would have been well. Instead of which she was hopelessly and deliciously feminine. Her hairworried him, it was so generously beautiful. And she was so slenderlyand prettily the woman--the girl, rather--that it cut him like a knife tosee her, with quick, comprehensive eyes and sharply imperative voice, superintend the launching of the whale-boat through the surf. Inimagination he could see her roping a horse, and it always made himshudder. Then, too, she was so many-sided. Her knowledge of literatureand art surprised him, while deep down was the feeling that a girl whoknew such things had no right to know how to rig tackles, heave upanchors, and sail schooners around the South Seas. Such things in herbrain were like so many oaths on her lips. While for such a girl toinsist that she was going on a recruiting cruise around Malaita waspositive self-sacrilege. 

He always perturbedly harked back to her feminineness. She could playthe piano far better than his sisters at home, and with far finerappreciation--the piano that poor Hughie had so heroically laboured overto keep in condition. And when she strummed the guitar and sang liquid, velvety Hawaiian _hulas_, he sat entranced. Then she was all woman, andthe magic of sex kidnapped the irritations of the day and made him forgetthe big revolver, the Baden-Powell, and all the rest. But what right, the next thought in his brain would whisper, had such a girl to swaggeraround like a man and exult that adventure was not dead? Woman thatadventured were adventuresses, and the connotation was not nice. Besides, he was not enamoured of adventure. Not since he was a boy had itappealed to him--though it would have driven him hard to explain what hadbrought him from England to the Solomons if it had not been adventure. 

Sheldon certainly was not happy. The unconventional state of affairs wastoo much for his conservative disposition and training. Berande, inhabited by one lone white man, was no place for Joan Lackland. Yet heracked his brain for a way out, and even talked it over with her. In thefirst place, the steamer from Australia was not due for three weeks. 

"One thing is evident: you don't want me here, " she said. "I'll man thewhale-boat to-morrow and go over to Tulagi. "

"But as I told you before, that is impossible, " he cried. "There is noone there. The Resident Commissioner is away in Australia. Them is onlyone white man, a third assistant understrapper and ex-sailor--a commonsailor. He is in charge of the government of the Solomons, to saynothing of a hundred or so niggers--prisoners. Besides, he is such afool that he would fine you five pounds for not having entered at Tulagi, which is the port of entry, you know. He is not a nice man, and, Irepeat, it is impossible. "

"There is Guvutu, " she suggested. 

He shook his head. 

"There's nothing there but fever and five white men who are drinkingthemselves to death. I couldn't permit it. "

"Oh thank you, " she said quietly. "I guess I'll start to-day. --Viaburi!You go along Noa Noah, speak 'm come along me. "

Noa Noah was her head sailor, who had been boatswain of the _Miele_. 

"Where are you going?" Sheldon asked in surprise. --"Vlaburi! You stop. "

"To Guvutu--immediately, " was her reply. 

"But I won't permit it. "

"That is why I am going. You said it once before, and it is something Icannot brook. "

"What?" He was bewildered by her sudden anger. "If I have offended inany way--"

"Viaburi, you fetch 'm one fella Noa Noah along me, " she commanded. 

The black boy started to obey. 

"Viaburi! You no stop I break 'm head belong you. And now, MissLackland, I insist--you must explain. What have I said or done to meritthis?"

"You have presumed, you have dared--"

She choked and swallowed, and could not go on. 

Sheldon looked the picture of despair. 

"I confess my head is going around with it all, " he said. "If you couldonly be explicit. "

"As explicit as you were when you told me that you would not permit me togo to Guvutu?"

"But what's wrong with that?"

"But you have no right--no man has the right--to tell me what he willpermit or not permit. I'm too old to have a guardian, nor did I sail allthe way to the Solomons to find one. "

"A gentleman is every woman's guardian. "

"Well, I'm not every woman--that's all. Will you kindly allow me to sendyour boy for Noa Noah? I wish him to launch the whale-boat. Or shall Igo myself for him?"

Both were now on their feet, she with flushed cheeks and angry eyes, he, puzzled, vexed, and alarmed. The black boy stood like a statue--a plum-black statue--taking no interest in the transactions of theseincomprehensible whites, but dreaming with calm eyes of a certain bushvillage high on the jungle slopes of Malaita, with blue smoke curling upfrom the grass houses against the gray background of an oncoming mountain-squall. 

"But you won't do anything so foolish--" he began. 

"There you go again, " she cried. 

"I didn't mean it that way, and you know I didn't. " He was speakingslowly and gravely. "And that other thing, that not permitting--it isonly a manner of speaking. Of course I am not your guardian. You knowyou can go to Guvutu if you want to"--"or to the devil, " he was almosttempted to add. "Only, I should deeply regret it, that is all. And I amvery sorry that I should have said anything that hurt you. Remember, Iam an Englishman. "

Joan smiled and sat down again. 

"Perhaps I have been hasty, " she admitted. "You see, I am intolerant ofrestraint. If you only knew how I have been compelled to fight for myfreedom. It is a sore point with me, this being told what I am to do ornot do by you self-constituted lords of creation. -Viaburi I You stopalong kitchen. No bring 'm Noa Noah. --And now, Mr. Sheldon, what am I todo? You don't want me here, and there doesn't seem to be any place forme to go. "

"That is unfair. Your being wrecked here has been a godsend to me. Iwas very lonely and very sick. I really am not certain whether or not Ishould have pulled through had you not happened along. But that is notthe point. Personally, purely selfishly personally, I should be sorry tosee you go. But I am not considering myself. I am considering you. It--it is hardly the proper thing, you know. If I were married--if therewere some woman of your own race here--but as it is--"

She threw up her hands in mock despair. 

"I cannot follow you, " she said. "In one breath you tell me I must go, and in the next breath you tell me there is no place to go and that youwill not permit me to go. What is a poor girl to do?"

"That's the trouble, " he said helplessly. 

"And the situation annoys you. "

"Only for your sake. "

"Then let me save your feelings by telling you that it does not annoy meat all--except for the row you are making about it. I never allow whatcan't be changed to annoy me. There is no use in fighting theinevitable. Here is the situation. You are here. I am here. I can'tgo elsewhere, by your own account. You certainly can't go elsewhere andleave me here alone with a whole plantation and two hundred woollycannibals on my hands. Therefore you stay, and I stay. It is verysimple. Also, it is adventure. And furthermore, you needn't worry foryourself. I am not matrimonially inclined. I came to the Solomons for aplantation, not a husband. "

Sheldon flushed, but remained silent. 

"I know what you are thinking, " she laughed gaily. "That if I were a manyou'd wring my neck for me. And I deserve it, too. I'm so sorry. Iought not to keep on hurting your feelings. "

"I'm afraid I rather invite it, " he said, relieved by the signs of thetempest subsiding. 

"I have it, " she announced. "Lend me a gang of your boys for to-day. I'll build a grass house for myself over in the far corner of thecompound--on piles, of course. I can move in to-night. I'll becomfortable and safe. The Tahitians can keep an anchor watch just asaboard ship. And then I'll study cocoanut planting. In return, I'll runthe kitchen end of your household and give you some decent food to eat. And finally, I won't listen to any of your protests. I know all that youare going to say and offer--your giving the bungalow up to me andbuilding a grass house for yourself. And I won't have it. You may aswell consider everything settled. On the other hand, if you don't agree, I will go across the river, beyond your jurisdiction, and build a villagefor myself and my sailors, whom I shall send in the whale-boat to Guvutufor provisions. And now I want you to teach me billiards. "

CHAPTER VII--A HARD-BITTEN GANG

Joan took hold of the household with no uncertain grip, revolutionizingthings till Sheldon hardly recognized the place. For the first time thebungalow was clean and orderly. No longer the house-boys loafed and didas little as they could; while the cook complained that "head belong himwalk about too much, " from the strenuous course in cookery which she puthim through. Nor did Sheldon escape being roundly lectured for hislaziness in eating nothing but tinned provisions. She called him amuddler and a slouch, and other invidious names, for his slackness andhis disregard of healthful food. 

She sent her whale-boat down the coast twenty miles for limes andoranges, and wanted to know scathingly why said fruits had not long sincebeen planted at Berande, while he was beneath contempt because there wasno kitchen garden. Mummy apples, which he had regarded as weeds, underher guidance appeared as appetizing breakfast fruit, and, at dinner, weremetamorphosed into puddings that elicited his unqualified admiration. Bananas, foraged from the bush, were served, cooked and raw, a dozendifferent ways, each one of which he declared was better than any other. She or her sailors dynamited fish daily, while the Balesuna natives werepaid tobacco for bringing in oysters from the mangrove swamps. Herachievements with cocoanuts were a revelation. She taught the cook howto make yeast from the milk, that, in turn, raised light and airy bread. From the tip-top heart of the tree she concocted a delicious salad. Fromthe milk and the meat of the nut she made various sauces and dressings, sweet and sour, that were served, according to preparation, with dishesthat ranged from fish to pudding. She taught Sheldon the superiority ofcocoanut cream over condensed cream, for use in coffee. From the old andsprouting nuts she took the solid, spongy centres and turned them intosalads. Her forte seemed to be salads, and she astonished him with thedeliciousness of a salad made from young bamboo shoots. Wild tomatoes, which had gone to seed or been remorselessly hoed out from the beginningof Berande, were foraged for salads, soups, and sauces. The chickens, which had always gone into the bush and hidden their eggs, were givenlaying-bins, and Joan went out herself to shoot wild duck and wildpigeons for the table. 

"Not that I like to do this sort of work, " she explained, in reference tothe cookery; "but because I can't get away from Dad's training. "

Among other things, she burned the pestilential hospital, quarrelled withSheldon over the dead, and, in anger, set her own men to work building anew, and what she called a decent, hospital. She robbed the windows oftheir lawn and muslin curtains, replacing them with gaudy calico from thetrade-store, and made herself several gowns. When she wrote out a listof goods and clothing for herself, to be sent down to Sydney by the firststeamer, Sheldon wondered how long she had made up her mind to stay. 

She was certainly unlike any woman he had ever known or dreamed of. Sofar as he was concerned she was not a woman at all. She neitherlanguished nor blandished. No feminine lures were wasted on him. Hemight have been her brother, or she his brother, for all sex had to dowith the strange situation. Any mere polite gallantry on his part wasignored or snubbed, and he had very early given up offering his hand toher in getting into a boat or climbing over a log, and he had toacknowledge to himself that she was eminently fitted to take care ofherself. Despite his warnings about crocodiles and sharks, she persistedin swimming in deep water off the beach; nor could he persuade her, whenshe was in the boat, to let one of the sailors throw the dynamite whenshooting fish. She argued that she was at least a little bit moreintelligent than they, and that, therefore, there was less liability ofan accident if she did the shooting. She was to him the most masculineand at the same time the most feminine woman he had ever met. 

A source of continual trouble between them was the disagreement overmethods of handling the black boys. She ruled by stern kindness, rarelyrewarding, never punishing, and he had to confess that her own sailorsworshipped her, while the house-boys were her slaves, and did three timesas much work for her as he had ever got out of them. She quickly saw theunrest of the contract labourers, and was not blind to the danger, alwaysimminent, that both she and Sheldon ran. Neither of them ever venturedout without a revolver, and the sailors who stood the night watches byJoan's grass house were armed with rifles. But Joan insisted that thisreign of terror had been caused by the reign of fear practised by thewhite men. She had been brought up with the gentle Hawaiians, who neverwere ill-treated nor roughly handled, and she generalized that theSolomon Islanders, under kind treatment, would grow gentle. 

One evening a terrific uproar arose in the barracks, and Sheldon, aidedby Joan's sailors, succeeded in rescuing two women whom the blacks werebeating to death. To save them from the vengeance of the blacks, theywere guarded in the cook-house for the night. They were the two womenwho did the cooking for the labourers, and their offence had consisted ofone of them taking a bath in the big cauldron in which the potatoes wereboiled. The blacks were not outraged from the standpoint of cleanliness;they often took baths in the cauldrons themselves. The trouble lay inthat the bather had been a low, degraded, wretched female; for to theSolomon Islander all females are low, degraded, and wretched. 

Next morning, Joan and Sheldon, at breakfast, were aroused by a swellingmurmur of angry voices. The first rule of Berande had been broken. Thecompound had been entered without permission or command, and all the twohundred labourers, with the exception of the boss-boys, were guilty ofthe offence. They crowded up, threatening and shouting, close under thefront veranda. Sheldon leaned over the veranda railing, looking downupon them, while Joan stood slightly back. When the uproar was stilled, two brothers stood forth. They were large men, splendidly muscled, andwith faces unusually ferocious, even for Solomon Islanders. One wasCarin-Jama, otherwise The Silent; and the other was Bellin-Jama, TheBoaster. Both had served on the Queensland plantations in the old days, and they were known as evil characters wherever white men met and gammed. 

"We fella boy we want 'm them dam two black fella Mary, " saidBellin-Jama. 

"What you do along black fella Mary?" Sheldon asked. 

"Kill 'm, " said Bellin-Jama. 

"What name you fella boy talk along me?" Sheldon demanded, with a show ofrising anger. "Big bell he ring. You no belong along here. You belongalong field. Bime by, big fella bell he ring, you stop along _kai-kai_, you come talk along me about two fella Mary. Now all you boy get alongout of here. "

The gang waited to see what Bellin-Jama would do, and Bellin-Jama stoodstill. 

"Me no go, " he said. 

"You watch out, Bellin-Jama, " Sheldon said sharply, "or I send you alongTulagi one big fella lashing. My word, you catch 'm strong fella. "

Bellin-Jama glared up belligerently. 

"You want 'm fight, " he said, putting up his fists in approved, returned-Queenslander style. 

Now, in the Solomons, where whites are few and blacks are many, and wherethe whites do the ruling, such an offer to fight is the deadliest insult. Blacks are not supposed to dare so highly as to offer to fight a whiteman. At the best, all they can look for is to be beaten by the whiteman. 

A murmur of admiration at Bellin-Jama's bravery went up from thelistening blacks. But Bellin-Jama's voice was still ringing in the air, and the murmuring was just beginning, when Sheldon cleared the rail, leaping straight downward. From the top of the railing to the ground itwas fifteen feet, and Bellin-Jama was directly beneath. Sheldon's flyingbody struck him and crushed him to earth. No blows were needed to bestruck. The black had been knocked helpless. Joan, startled by theunexpected leap, saw Carin-Jama, The Silent, reach out and seize Sheldonby the throat as he was half-way to his feet, while the five-score blackssurged forward for the killing. Her revolver was out, and Carin-Jama letgo his grip, reeling backward with a bullet in his shoulder. In thatfleeting instant of action she had thought to shoot him in the arm, which, at that short distance, might reasonably have been achieved. Butthe wave of savages leaping forward had changed her shot to the shoulder. It was a moment when not the slightest chance could be taken. 

The instant his throat was released, Sheldon struck out with his fist, and Carin-Jama joined his brother on the ground. The mutiny was quelled, and five minutes more saw the brothers being carried to the hospital, andthe mutineers, marshalled by the gang-bosses, on the way to the fields. 

When Sheldon came up on the veranda, he found Joan collapsed on thesteamer-chair and in tears. The sight unnerved him as the row just overcould not possibly have done. A woman in tears was to him anembarrassing situation; and when that woman was Joan Lackland, from whomhe had grown to expect anything unexpected, he was really frightened. Heglanced down at her helplessly, and moistened his lips. 

"I want to thank you, " he began. "There isn't a doubt but what you savedmy life, and I must say--"

She abruptly removed her hands, showing a wrathful and tear-stained face. 

"You brute! You coward!" she cried. "You have made me shoot a man, andI never shot a man in my life before. "

"It's only a flesh-wound, and he isn't going to die, " Sheldon managed tointerpolate. 

"What of that? I shot him just the same. There was no need for you tojump down there that way. It was brutal and cowardly. "

"Oh, now I say--" he began soothingly. 

"Go away. Don't you see I hate you! hate you! Oh, won't you go away!"

Sheldon was white with anger. 

"Then why in the name of common sense did you shoot?" he demanded. 

"Be-be-because you were a white man, " she sobbed. "And Dad would neverhave left any white man in the lurch. But it was your fault. You had noright to get yourself in such a position. Besides, it wasn't necessary. "

"I am afraid I don't understand, " he said shortly, turning away. "Wewill talk it over later on. "

"Look how I get on with the boys, " she said, while he paused in thedoorway, stiffly polite, to listen. "There's those two sick boys I amnursing. They will do anything for me when they get well, and I won'thave to keep them in fear of their life all the time. It is notnecessary, I tell you, all this harshness and brutality. What if theyare cannibals? They are human beings, just like you and me, and they areamenable to reason. That is what distinguishes all of us from the loweranimals. "

He nodded and went out. 

"I suppose I've been unforgivably foolish, " was her greeting, when hereturned several hours later from a round of the plantation. "I've beento the hospital, and the man is getting along all right. It is not aserious hurt. "

Sheldon felt unaccountably pleased and happy at the changed aspect of hermood. 

"You see, you don't understand the situation, " he began. "In the firstplace, the blacks have to be ruled sternly. Kindness is all very well, but you can't rule them by kindness only. I accept all that you sayabout the Hawaiians and the Tahitians. You say that they can be handledthat way, and I believe you. I have had no experience with them. Butyou have had no experience with the blacks, and I ask you to believe me. They are different from your natives. You are used to Polynesians. Theseboys are Melanesians. They're blacks. They're niggers--look at theirkinky hair. And they're a whole lot lower than the African niggers. Really, you know, there is a vast difference. "

"They possess no gratitude, no sympathy, no kindliness. If you are kindto them, they think you are a fool. If you are gentle with them theythink you are afraid. And when they think you are afraid, watch out, forthey will get you. Just to show you, let me state the one invariableprocess in a black man's brain when, on his native heath, he encounters astranger. His first thought is one of fear. Will the stranger kill him?His next thought, seeing that he is not killed, is: Can he kill thestranger? There was Packard, a Colonial trader, some twelve miles downthe coast. He boasted that he ruled by kindness and never struck a blow. The result was that he did not rule at all. He used to come down in hiswhale-boat to visit Hughie and me. When his boat's crew decided to gohome, he had to cut his visit short to accompany them. I remember oneSunday afternoon when Packard had accepted our invitation to stop todinner. The soup was just served, when Hughie saw a nigger peering inthrough the door. He went out to him, for it was a violation of Berandecustom. Any nigger has to send in word by the house-boys, and to keepoutside the compound. This man, who was one of Packard's boat's-crew, was on the veranda. And he knew better, too. 'What name?' said Hughie. 'You tell 'm white man close up we fella boat's-crew go along. He nocome now, we fella boy no wait. We go. ' And just then Hughie fetchedhim a clout that knocked him clean down the stairs and off the veranda. "

"But it was needlessly cruel, " Joan objected. "You wouldn't treat awhite man that way. "

"And that's just the point. He wasn't a white man. He was a low blacknigger, and he was deliberately insulting, not alone his own whitemaster, but every white master in the Solomons. He insulted me. Heinsulted Hughie. He insulted Berande. "

"Of course, according to your lights, to your formula of the rule of thestrong--"

"Yes, " Sheldon interrupted, "but it was according to the formula of therule of the weak that Packard ruled. And what was the result? I amstill alive. Packard is dead. He was unswervingly kind and gentle tohis boys, and his boys waited till one day he was down with fever. Hishead is over on Malaita now. They carried away two whale-boats as well, filled with the loot of the store. Then there was Captain Mackenzie ofthe ketch _Minota_. He believed in kindness. He also contended thatbetter confidence was established by carrying no weapons. On his secondtrip to Malaita, recruiting, he ran into Bina, which is near Langa Langa. The rifles with which the boat's-crew should have been armed, were lockedup in his cabin. When the whale-boat went ashore after recruits, heparaded around the deck without even a revolver on him. He wastomahawked. His head remains in Malaita. It was suicide. So wasPackard's finish suicide. "

"I grant that precaution is necessary in dealing with them, " Joan agreed;"but I believe that more satisfactory results can be obtained by treatingthem with discreet kindness and gentleness. "

"And there I agree with _you_, but you must understand one thing. Berande, bar none, is by far the worst plantation in the Solomons so faras the labour is concerned. And how it came to be so proves your point. The previous owners of Berande were not discreetly kind. They were apair of unadulterated brutes. One was a down-east Yankee, as I believethey are called, and the other was a guzzling German. They were slave-drivers. To begin with, they bought their labour from Johnny Be-blowed, the most notorious recruiter in the Solomons. He is working out a tenyears' sentence in Fiji now, for the wanton killing of a black boy. During his last days here he had made himself so obnoxious that thenatives on Malaita would have nothing to do with him. The only way hecould get recruits was by hurrying to the spot whenever a murder orseries of murders occurred. The murderers were usually only too willingto sign on and get away to escape vengeance. Down here they call suchescapes, 'pier-head jumps. ' There is suddenly a roar from the beach, anda nigger runs down to the water pursued by clouds of spears and arrows. Of course, Johnny Be-blowed's whale-boat is lying ready to pick him up. In his last days Johnny got nothing but pier-head jumps. 

"And the first owners of Berande bought his recruits--a hard-bitten gangof murderers. They were all five-year boys. You see, the recruiter hasthe advantage over a boy when he makes a pier-head jump. He could signhim on for ten years did the law permit. Well, that's the gang ofmurderers we've got on our hands now. Of course some are dead, some havebeen killed, and there are others serving sentences at Tulagi. Verylittle clearing did those first owners do, and less planting. It was warall the time. They had one manager killed. One of the partners had hisshoulder slashed nearly off by a cane-knife. The other was speared ontwo different occasions. Both were bullies, wherefore there was a streakof cowardice in them, and in the end they had to give up. They werechased away--literally chased away--by their own niggers. And along camepoor Hughie and me, two new chums, to take hold of that hard-bitten gang. We did not know the situation, and we had bought Berande, and there wasnothing to do but hang on and muddle through somehow. 

"At first we made the mistake of indiscreet kindness. We tried to ruleby persuasion and fair treatment. The niggers concluded that we wereafraid. I blush to think of what fools we were in those first days. Wewere imposed on, and threatened and insulted; and we put up with it, hoping our square-dealing would soon mend things. Instead of whicheverything went from bad to worse. Then came the day when Hughiereprimanded one of the boys and was nearly killed by the gang. The onlything that saved him was the number on top of him, which enabled me toreach the spot in time. 

"Then began the rule of the strong hand. It was either that or quit, andwe had sunk about all our money into the venture, and we could not quit. And besides, our pride was involved. We had started out to do something, and we were so made that we just had to go on with it. It has been ahard fight, for we were, and are to this day, considered the worstplantation in the Solomons from the standpoint of labour. Do you know, we have been unable to get white men in. We've offered the managershipto half a dozen. I won't say they were afraid, for they were not. Butthey did not consider it healthy--at least that is the way it was put bythe last one who declined our offer. So Hughie and I did the managingourselves. "

"And when he died you were prepared to go on all alone!" Joan cried, withshining eyes. 

"I thought I'd muddle through. And now, Miss Lackland, please becharitable when I seem harsh, and remember that the situation isunparalleled down here. We've got a bad crowd, and we're making themwork. You've been over the plantation and you ought to know. And Iassure you that there are no better three-and-four-years-old trees on anyother plantation in the Solomons. We have worked steadily to changematters for the better. We've been slowly getting in new labour. Thatis why we bought the _Jessie_. We wanted to select our own labour. Inanother year the time will be up for most of the original gang. You see, they were recruited during the first year of Berande, and their contractsexpire on different months. Naturally, they have contaminated the newboys to a certain extent; but that can soon be remedied, and then Berandewill be a respectable plantation. "

Joan nodded but remained silent. She was too occupied in glimpsing thevision of the one lone white man as she had first seen him, helpless fromfever, a collapsed wraith in a steamer-chair, who, up to the last heart-beat, by some strange alchemy of race, was pledged to mastery. 

"It is a pity, " she said. "But the white man has to rule, I suppose. "

"I don't like it, " Sheldon assured her. "To save my life I can't imaginehow I ever came here. But here I am, and I can't run away. "

"Blind destiny of race, " she said, faintly smiling. "We whites have beenland robbers and sea robbers from remotest time. It is in our blood, Iguess, and we can't get away from it. "

"I never thought about it so abstractly, " he confessed. "I've been toobusy puzzling over why I came here. "

CHAPTER VIII--LOCAL COLOUR

At sunset a small ketch fanned in to anchorage, and a little later theskipper came ashore. He was a soft-spoken, gentle-voiced young fellow oftwenty, but he won Joan's admiration in advance when Sheldon told herthat he ran the ketch all alone with a black crew from Malaita. AndRomance lured and beckoned before Joan's eyes when she learned he wasChristian Young, a Norfolk Islander, but a direct descendant of JohnYoung, one of the original _Bounty_ mutineers. The blended Tahitian andEnglish blood showed in his soft eyes and tawny skin; but the Englishhardness seemed to have disappeared. Yet the hardness was there, and itwas what enabled him to run his ketch single-handed and to wring alivelihood out of the fighting Solomons. 

Joan's unexpected presence embarrassed him, until she herself put him athis ease by a frank, comradely manner that offended Sheldon's sense ofthe fitness of things feminine. News from the world Young had not, buthe was filled with news of the Solomons. Fifteen boys had stolen riflesand run away into the bush from Lunga plantation, which was farther easton the Guadalcanar coast. And from the bush they had sent word that theywere coming back to wipe out the three white men in charge, while two ofthe three white men, in turn, were hunting them through the bush. Therewas a strong possibility, Young volunteered, that if they were not caughtthey might circle around and tap the coast at Berande in order to stealor capture a whale-boat. 

"I forgot to tell you that your trader at Ugi has been murdered, " he saidto Sheldon. "Five big canoes came down from Port Adams. They landed inthe night-time, and caught Oscar asleep. What they didn't steal theyburned. The _Flibberty-Gibbet_ got the news at Mboli Pass, and ran downto Ugi. I was at Mboli when the news came. "

"I think I'll have to abandon Ugi, " Sheldon remarked. 

"It's the second trader you've lost there in a year, " Young concurred. "To make it safe there ought to be two white men at least. Those Malaitacanoes are always raiding down that way, and you know what that PortAdams lot is. I've got a dog for you. Tommy Jones sent it up from NealIsland. He said he'd promised it to you. It's a first-classnigger-chaser. Hadn't been on board two minutes when he had my wholeboat's-crew in the rigging. Tommy calls him Satan. "

"I've wondered several times why you had no dogs here, " Joan said. 

"The trouble is to keep them. They're always eaten by the crocodiles. "

"Jack Hanley was killed at Marovo Lagoon two months ago, " Young announcedin his mild voice. "The news just came down on the _Apostle_. "

"Where is Marovo Lagoon?" Joan asked. 

"New Georgia, a couple of hundred miles to the westward, " Sheldonanswered. "Bougainville lies just beyond. "

"His own house-boys did it, " Young went on; "but they were put up to itby the Marovo natives. His Santa Cruz boat's-crew escaped in the whale-boat to Choiseul, and Mather, in the _Lily_, sailed over to Marovo. Heburned a village, and got Hanley's head back. He found it in one of thehouses, where the niggers had it drying. And that's all the news I'vegot, except that there's a lot of new Lee-Enfields loose on the easternend of Ysabel. Nobody knows how the natives got them. The governmentought to investigate. And--oh yes, a war vessel's in the group, the_Cambrian_. She burned three villages at Bina--on account of the_Minota_, you know--and shelled the bush. Then she went to Sio tostraighten out things there. "

The conversation became general, and just before Young left to go onboard Joan asked, --

"How can you manage all alone, Mr. Young?"

His large, almost girlish eyes rested on her for a moment before hereplied, and then it was in the softest and gentlest of voices. 

"Oh, I get along pretty well with them. Of course, there is a bit oftrouble once in a while, but that must be expected. You must never letthem think you are afraid. I've been afraid plenty of times, but theynever knew it. "

"You would think he wouldn't strike a mosquito that was biting him, "Sheldon said when Young had gone on board. "All the Norfolk Islandersthat have descended from the _Bounty_ crowd are that way. But look atYoung. Only three years ago, when he first got the _Minerva_, he waslying in Suu, on Malaita. There are a lot of returned Queenslandersthere--a rough crowd. They planned to get his head. The son of theirchief, old One-Eyed Billy, had recruited on Lunga and died of dysentery. That meant that a white man's head was owing to Suu--any white man, itdidn't matter who so long as they got the head. And Young was only alad, and they made sure to get his easily. They decoyed his whale-boatashore with a promise of recruits, and killed all hands. At the sameinstant, the Suu gang that was on board the _Minerva_ jumped Young. Hewas just preparing a dynamite stick for fish, and he lighted it andtossed it in amongst them. One can't get him to talk about it, but thefuse was short, the survivors leaped overboard, while he slipped hisanchor and got away. They've got one hundred fathoms of shell money onhis head now, which is worth one hundred pounds sterling. Yet he goesinto Suu regularly. He was there a short time ago, returning thirty boysfrom Cape Marsh--that's the Fulcrum Brothers' plantation. "

"At any rate, his news to-night has given me a better insight into thelife down here, " Joan said. "And it is colourful life, to say the least. The Solomons ought to be printed red on the charts--and yellow, too, forthe diseases. "

"The Solomons are not always like this, " Sheldon answered. "Of course, Berande is the worst plantation, and everything it gets is the worst. Idoubt if ever there was a worse run of sickness than we were just gettingover when you arrived. Just as luck would have it, the _Jessie_ caughtthe contagion as well. Berande has been very unfortunate. All the old-timers shake their heads at it. They say it has what you Americans calla _hoodoo_ on it. "

"Berande will succeed, " Joan said stoutly. "I like to laugh atsuperstition. You'll pull through and come out the big end of the horn. The ill luck can't last for ever. I am afraid, though, the Solomons isnot a white man's climate. "

"It will be, though. Give us fifty years, and when all the bush iscleared off back to the mountains, fever will be stamped out; everythingwill be far healthier. There will be cities and towns here, for there'san immense amount of good land going to waste. "

"But it will never become a white man's climate, in spite of all that, "Joan reiterated. "The white man will always be unable to perform themanual labour. "

"That is true. "

"It will mean slavery, " she dashed on. 

"Yes, like all the tropics. The black, the brown, and the yellow willhave to do the work, managed by the white men. The black labour is toowasteful, however, and in time Chinese or Indian coolies will beimported. The planters are already considering the matter. I, for one, am heartily sick of black labour. "

"Then the blacks will die off?"

Sheldon shrugged his shoulders, and retorted, --

"Yes, like the North American Indian, who was a far nobler type than theMelanesian. The world is only so large, you know, and it is filling up--"

"And the unfit must perish?"

"Precisely so. The unfit must perish. "

In the morning Joan was roused by a great row and hullabaloo. Her firstact was to reach for her revolver, but when she heard Noa Noah, who wason guard, laughing outside, she knew there was no danger, and went out tosee the fun. Captain Young had landed Satan at the moment when thebridge-building gang had started along the beach. Satan was big andblack, short-haired and muscular, and weighed fully seventy pounds. Hedid not love the blacks. Tommy Jones had trained him well, tying him updaily for several hours and telling off one or two black boys at a timeto tease him. So Satan had it in for the whole black race, and thesecond after he landed on the beach the bridge-building gang wasstampeding over the compound fence and swarming up the cocoanut palms. 

"Good morning, " Sheldon called from the veranda. "And what do you thinkof the nigger-chaser?"

"I'm thinking we have a task before us to train him in to thehouse-boys, " she called back. 

"And to your Tahitians, too. Look out, Noah! Run for it!"

Satan, having satisfied himself that the tree-perches were unassailable, was charging straight for the big Tahitian. 

But Noah stood his ground, though somewhat irresolutely, and Satan, toevery one's surprise, danced and frisked about him with laughing eyes andwagging tail. 

"Now, that is what I might call a proper dog, " was Joan's comment. "Heis at least wiser than you, Mr. Sheldon. He didn't require any teachingto recognize the difference between a Tahitian and a black boy. What doyou think, Noah? Why don't he bite you? He savvee you Tahitian eh?"

Noa Noah shook his head and grinned. 

"He no savvee me Tahitian, " he explained. "He savvee me wear pants allthe same white man. "

"You'll have to give him a course in 'Sartor Resartus, '" Sheldon laughed, as he came down and began to make friends with Satan. 

It chanced just then that Adamu Adam and Matauare, two of Joan's sailors, entered the compound from the far side-gate. They had been down to theBalesuna making an alligator trap, and, instead of trousers, were clad inlava-lavas that flapped gracefully about their stalwart limbs. Satan sawthem, and advertised his find by breaking away from Sheldon's hands andcharging. 

"No got pants, " Noah announced with a grin that broadened as Adamu Adamtook to flight. 

He climbed up the platform that supported the galvanized iron tanks whichheld the water collected from the roof. Foiled here, Satan turned andcharged back on Matauare. 

"Run, Matauare! Run!" Joan called. 

But he held his ground and waited the dog. 

"He is the Fearless One--that is what his name means, " Joan explained toSheldon. 

The Tahitian watched Satan coolly, and when that sanguine-mouthedcreature lifted into the air in the final leap, the man's hand shot out. It was a fair grip on the lower jaw, and Satan described a half circleand was flung to the rear, turning over in the air and falling heavily onhis back. Three times he leaped, and three times that grip on his jawflung him to defeat. Then he contented himself with trotting atMatauare's heels, eyeing him and sniffing him suspiciously. 

"It's all right, Satan; it's all right, " Sheldon assured him. "That goodfella belong along me. "

But Satan dogged the Tahitian's movements for a full hour before he madeup his mind that the man was an appurtenance of the place. Then heturned his attention to the three house-boys, cornering Ornfiri in thekitchen and rushing him against the hot stove, stripping the lava-lavafrom Lalaperu when that excited youth climbed a veranda-post, andfollowing Viaburi on top the billiard-table, where the battle raged untilJoan managed a rescue. 

CHAPTER IX--AS BETWEEN A MAN AND A WOMAN

It was Satan's inexhaustible energy and good spirits that most impressedthem. His teeth seemed perpetually to ache with desire, and in lieu ofblack legs he husked the cocoanuts that fell from the trees in thecompound, kept the enclosure clear of intruding hens, and made a hostileacquaintance with every boss-boy who came to report. He was unable toforget the torment of his puppyhood, wherein everlasting hatred of theblack had been woven into the fibres of consciousness; and such a terrordid he make himself that Sheldon was forced to shut him up in the livingroom when, for any reason, strange natives were permitted in thecompound. This always hurt Satan's feelings and fanned his wrath, sothat even the house-boys had to watch out for him when he was firstreleased. 

Christian Young sailed away in the _Minerva_, carrying an invitation(that would be delivered nobody knew when) to Tommy Jones to drop in atBerande the next time he was passing. 

"What are your plans when you get to Sydney?" Sheldon asked, that night, at dinner. 

"First I've heard that I'm going to Sydney, " Joan retorted. "I supposeyou've received information, by bush-telegraph, that that third assistantunderstrapper and ex-sailorman at Tulagi is going to deport me as anundesirable immigrant. "

"Oh, no, nothing of the sort, I assure you, " Sheldon began with awkwardhaste, fearful of having offended, though he knew not how. "I was justwondering, that was all. You see, with the loss of the schooner and . . And all the rest . . . You understand . . I was thinking thatif--a--if--hang it all, until you could communicate with your friends, myagents at Sydney could advance you a loan, temporary you see, why I'd beonly too glad and all the rest, you know. The proper--"

But his jaw dropped and he regarded her irritably and with apprehension. 

"What _is_ the matter?" he demanded, with a show of heat. "What _have_ Idone now?"

Joan's eyes were bright with battle, the curve of her lips sharp withmockery. 

"Certainly not the unexpected, " she said quietly. "Merely ignored me inyour ordinary, every-day, man-god, superior fashion. Naturally itcounted for nothing, my telling you that I had no idea of going toSydney. Go to Sydney I must, because you, in your superior wisdom, haveso decreed. "

She paused and looked at him curiously, as though he were some strangebreed of animal. 

"Of course I am grateful for your offer of assistance; but even that isno salve to wounded pride. For that matter, it is no more than one whiteman should expect from another. Shipwrecked mariners are always helpedalong their way. Only this particular mariner doesn't need any help. Furthermore, this mariner is not going to Sydney, thank you. "

"But what do you intend to do?"

"Find some spot where I shall escape the indignity of being patronizedand bossed by the superior sex. "

"Come now, that is putting it a bit too strongly. " Sheldon laughed, butthe strain in his voice destroyed the effect of spontaneity. "You knowyourself how impossible the situation is. "

"I know nothing of the sort, sir. And if it is impossible, well, haven'tI achieved it?"

"But it cannot continue. Really--"

"Oh, yes, it can. Having achieved it, I can go on achieving it. Iintend to remain in the Solomons, but not on Berande. To-morrow I amgoing to take the whale-boat over to Pari-Sulay. I was talking withCaptain Young about it. He says there are at least four hundred acres, and every foot of it good for planting. Being an island, he says I won'thave to bother about wild pigs destroying the young trees. All I'll haveto do is to keep the weeds hoed until the trees come into bearing. First, I'll buy the island; next, get forty or fifty recruits and start clearingand planting; and at the same time I'll run up a bungalow; and thenyou'll be relieved of my embarrassing presence--now don't say that itisn't. "

"It is embarrassing, " he said bluntly. "But you refuse to see my pointof view, so there is no use in discussing it. Now please forget allabout it, and consider me at your service concerning this . . . Thisproject of yours. I know more about cocoanut-planting than you do. Youspeak like a capitalist. I don't know how much money you have, but Idon't fancy you are rolling in wealth, as you Americans say. But I doknow what it costs to clear land. Suppose the government sells you Pari-Sulay at a pound an acre; clearing will cost you at least four poundsmore; that is, five pounds for four hundred acres, or, say, ten thousanddollars. Have you that much?"

She was keenly interested, and he could see that the previous clashbetween them was already forgotten. Her disappointment was plain as sheconfessed:

"No; I haven't quite eight thousand dollars. "

"Then here's another way of looking at it. You'll need, as you said, atleast fifty boys. Not counting premiums, their wages are thirty dollarsa year. "

"I pay my Tahitians fifteen a month, " she interpolated. 

"They won't do on straight plantation work. But to return. The wages offifty boys each year will come to three hundred pounds--that is, fifteenhundred dollars. Very well. It will be seven years before your treesbegin to bear. Seven times fifteen hundred is ten thousand five hundreddollars--more than you possess, and all eaten up by the boys' wages, withnothing to pay for bungalow, building, tools, quinine, trips to Sydney, and so forth. "

Sheldon shook his head gravely. "You'll have to abandon the idea. "

"But I won't go to Sydney, " she cried. "I simply won't. I'll buy in tothe extent of my money as a small partner in some other plantation. Letme buy in in Berande!"

"Heaven forbid!" he cried in such genuine dismay that she broke intohearty laughter. 

"There, I won't tease you. Really, you know, I'm not accustomed toforcing my presence where it is not desired. Yes, yes; I know you'rejust aching to point out that I've forced myself upon you ever since Ilanded, only you are too polite to say so. Yet as you said yourself, itwas impossible for me to go away, so I had to stay. You wouldn't let mego to Tulagi. You compelled me to force myself upon you. But I won'tbuy in as partner with any one. I'll buy Pari-Sulay, but I'll put onlyten boys on it and clear slowly. Also, I'll invest in some old ketch andtake out a trading license. For that matter, I'll go recruiting onMalaita. "

She looked for protest, and found it in Sheldon's clenched hand and inevery line of his clean-cut face. 

"Go ahead and say it, " she challenged. "Please don't mind me. I'm--I'mgetting used to it, you know. Really I am. "

"I wish I were a woman so as to tell you how preposterously insane andimpossible it is, " he blurted out. 

She surveyed him with deliberation, and said:

"Better than that, you are a man. So there is nothing to prevent yourtelling me, for I demand to be considered as a man. I didn't come downhere to trail my woman's skirts over the Solomons. Please forget that Iam accidentally anything else than a man with a man's living to make. "

Inwardly Sheldon fumed and fretted. Was she making game of him? Or didthere lurk in her the insidious unhealthfulness of unwomanliness? Or wasit merely a case of blank, staring, sentimental, idiotic innocence?

"I have told you, " he began stiffly, "that recruiting on Malaita isimpossible for a woman, and that is all I care to say--or dare. "

"And I tell you, in turn, that it is nothing of the sort. I've sailedthe _Miele_ here, master, if you please, all the way from Tahiti--even ifI did lose her, which was the fault of your Admiralty charts. I am anavigator, and that is more than your Solomons captains are. CaptainYoung told me all about it. And I am a seaman--a better seaman than you, when it comes right down to it, and you know it. I can shoot. I am nota fool. I can take care of myself. And I shall most certainly buy aketch, run her myself, and go recruiting on Malaita. "

Sheldon made a hopeless gesture. 

"That's right, " she rattled on. "Wash your hands of me. But as Von usedto say, 'You just watch my smoke!'"

"There's no use in discussing it. Let us have some music. "

He arose and went over to the big phonograph; but before the discstarted, and while he was winding the machine, he heard her saying:

"I suppose you've been accustomed to Jane Eyres all your life. That'swhy you don't understand me. Come on, Satan; let's leave him to his oldmusic. "

He watched her morosely and without intention of speaking, till he sawher take a rifle from the stand, examine the magazine, and start for thedoor. 

"Where are you going?" he asked peremptorily. 

"As between man and woman, " she answered, "it would be tooterribly--er--indecent for you to tell me why I shouldn't goalligatoring. Good-night. Sleep well. "

He shut off the phonograph with a snap, started toward the door afterher, then abruptly flung himself into a chair. 

"You're hoping a 'gator catches me, aren't you?" she called from theveranda, and as she went down the steps her rippling laughter driftedtantalizingly back through the wide doorway. 

CHAPTER X--A MESSAGE FROM BOUCHER

The next day Sheldon was left all alone. Joan had gone exploring Pari-Sulay, and was not to be expected back until the late afternoon. Sheldonwas vaguely oppressed by his loneliness, and several heavy squalls duringthe afternoon brought him frequently on to the veranda, telescope inhand, to scan the sea anxiously for the whale-boat. Betweenwhiles hescowled over the plantation account-books, made rough estimates, addedand balanced, and scowled the harder. The loss of the _Jessie_ had hitBerande severely. Not alone was his capital depleted by the amount ofher value, but her earnings were no longer to be reckoned on, and it washer earnings that largely paid the running expenses of the plantation. 

"Poor old Hughie, " he muttered aloud, once. "I'm glad you didn't live tosee it, old man. What a cropper, what a cropper!"

Between squalls the _Flibberty-Gibbet_ ran in to anchorage, and herskipper, Pete Oleson (brother to the Oleson of the _Jessie_), ancient, grizzled, wild-eyed, emaciated by fever, dragged his weary frame up theveranda steps and collapsed in a steamer-chair. Whisky and soda kept himgoing while he made report and turned in his accounts. 

"You're rotten with fever, " Sheldon said. "Why don't you run down toSydney for a blow of decent climate?"

The old skipper shook his head. 

"I can't. I've ben in the islands too long. I'd die. The fever comesout worse down there. "

"Kill or cure, " Sheldon counselled. 

"It's straight kill for me. I tried it three years ago. The coolweather put me on my back before I landed. They carried me ashore andinto hospital. I was unconscious one stretch for two weeks. After thatthe doctors sent me back to the islands--said it was the only thing thatwould save me. Well, I'm still alive; but I'm too soaked with fever. Amonth in Australia would finish me. "

"But what are you going to do?" Sheldon queried. "You can't stay hereuntil you die. "

"That's all that's left to me. I'd like to go back to the old country, but I couldn't stand it. I'll last longer here, and here I'll stay untilI peg out; but I wish to God I'd never seen the Solomons, that's all. "

He declined to sleep ashore, took his orders, and went back on board thecutter. A lurid sunset was blotted out by the heaviest squall of theday, and Sheldon watched the whale-boat arrive in the thick of it. Asthe spritsail was taken in and the boat headed on to the beach, he wasaware of a distinct hurt at sight of Joan at the steering-oar, standingerect and swaying her strength to it as she resisted the pressures thattended to throw the craft broadside in the surf. Her Tahitians leapedout and rushed the boat high up the beach, and she led her bizarrefollowing through the gate of the compound. 

The first drops of rain were driving like hail-stones, the tall cocoanutpalms were bending and writhing in the grip of the wind, while the thickcloud-mass of the squall turned the brief tropic twilight abruptly tonight. 

Quite unconsciously the brooding anxiety of the afternoon slipped fromSheldon, and he felt strangely cheered at the sight of her running up thesteps laughing, face flushed, hair flying, her breast heaving from theviolence of her late exertions. 

"Lovely, perfectly lovely--Pari-Sulay, " she panted. "I shall buy it. I'll write to the Commissioner to-night. And the site for thebungalow--I've selected it already--is wonderful. You must come oversome day and advise me. You won't mind my staying here until I can getsettled? Wasn't that squall beautiful? And I suppose I'm late fordinner. I'll run and get clean, and be with you in a minute. "

And in the brief interval of her absence he found himself walking aboutthe big living-room and impatiently and with anticipation awaiting hercoming. 

"Do you know, I'm never going to squabble with you again, " he announcedwhen they were seated. 

"Squabble!" was the retort. "It's such a sordid word. It sounds cheapand nasty. I think it's much nicer to quarrel. "

"Call it what you please, but we won't do it any more, will we?" Hecleared his throat nervously, for her eyes advertised the immediatebeginning of hostilities. "I beg your pardon, " he hurried on. "I shouldhave spoken for myself. What I mean is that I refuse to quarrel. Youhave the most horrible way, without uttering a word, of making me playthe fool. Why, I began with the kindest intentions, and here I am now--"

"Making nasty remarks, " she completed for him. 

"It's the way you have of catching me up, " he complained. 

"Why, I never said a word. I was merely sitting here, being sweetlylured on by promises of peace on earth and all the rest of it, whensuddenly you began to call me names. "

"Hardly that, I am sure. "

"Well, you said I was horrible, or that I had a horrible way about me, which is the same thing. I wish my bungalow were up. I'd moveto-morrow. "

But her twitching lips belied her words, and the next moment the man wasmore uncomfortable than ever, being made so by her laughter. 

"I was only teasing you. Honest Injun. And if you don't laugh I'llsuspect you of being in a temper with me. That's right, laugh. Butdon't--" she added in alarm, "don't if it hurts you. You look as thoughyou had a toothache. There, there--don't say it. You know you promisednot to quarrel, while I have the privilege of going on being as hatefulas I please. And to begin with, there's the _Flibberty-Gibbet_. Ididn't know she was so large a cutter; but she's in disgracefulcondition. Her rigging is something queer, and the next sharp squallwill bring her head-gear all about the shop. I watched Noa Noah's faceas we sailed past. He didn't say anything. He just sneered. And Idon't blame him. "

"Her skipper's rotten bad with fever, " Sheldon explained. "And he had todrop his mate off to take hold of things at Ugi--that's where I lostOscar, my trader. And you know what sort of sailors the niggers are. "

She nodded her head judicially, and while she seemed to debate a weightyjudgment he asked for a second helping of tinned beef--not because he washungry, but because he wanted to watch her slim, firm fingers, naked ofjewels and banded metals, while his eyes pleasured in the swell of theforearm, appearing from under the sleeve and losing identity in thesmooth, round wrist undisfigured by the netted veins that come to youthwhen youth is gone. The fingers were brown with tan and lookedexceedingly boyish. Then, and without effort, the concept came to him. Yes, that was it. He had stumbled upon the clue to her tantalizingpersonality. Her fingers, sunburned and boyish, told the story. Nowonder she had exasperated him so frequently. He had tried to treat withher as a woman, when she was not a woman. She was a mere girl--and aboyish girl at that--with sunburned fingers that delighted in doing whatboys' fingers did; with a body and muscles that liked swimming andviolent endeavour of all sorts; with a mind that was daring, but thatdared no farther than boys' adventures, and that delighted in rifles andrevolvers, Stetson hats, and a sexless _camaraderie_ with men. 

Somehow, as he pondered and watched her, it seemed as if he sat in churchat home listening to the choir-boys chanting. She reminded him of thoseboys, or their voices, rather. The same sexless quality was there. Inthe body of her she was woman; in the mind of her she had not grown up. She had not been exposed to ripening influences of that sort. She hadhad no mother. Von, her father, native servants, and rough island lifehad constituted her training. Horses and rifles had been her toys, campand trail her nursery. From what she had told him, her seminary days hadbeen an exile, devoted to study and to ceaseless longing for the wildriding and swimming of Hawaii. A boy's training, and a boy's point ofview! That explained her chafe at petticoats, her revolt at what wasonly decently conventional. Some day she would grow up, but as yet shewas only in the process. 

Well, there was only one thing for him to do. He must meet her on herown basis of boyhood, and not make the mistake of treating her as awoman. He wondered if he could love the woman she would be when hernature awoke; and he wondered if he could love her just as she was andhimself wake her up. After all, whatever it was, she had come to fillquite a large place in his life, as he had discovered that afternoonwhile scanning the sea between the squalls. Then he remembered theaccounts of Berande, and the cropper that was coming, and scowled. 

He became aware that she was speaking. 

"I beg pardon, " he said. "What's that you were saying?"

"You weren't listening to a word--I knew it, " she chided. "I was sayingthat the condition of the _Flibberty-Gibbet_ was disgraceful, and that to-morrow, when you've told the skipper and not hurt his feelings, I amgoing to take my men out and give her an overhauling. We'll scrub herbottom, too. Why, there's whiskers on her copper four inches long. Isaw it when she rolled. Don't forget, I'm going cruising on the_Flibberty_ some day, even if I have to run away with her. "

While at their coffee on the veranda, Satan raised a commotion in thecompound near the beach gate, and Sheldon finally rescued a mauled andfrightened black and dragged him on the porch for interrogation. 

"What fella marster you belong?" he demanded. "What name you come alongthis fella place sun he go down?"

"Me b'long Boucher. Too many boy belong along Port Adams stop along myfella marster. Too much walk about. "

The black drew a scrap of notepaper from under his belt and passed itover. Sheldon scanned it hurriedly. 

"It's from Boucher, " he explained, "the fellow who took Packard's place. Packard was the one I told you about who was killed by his boat's-crew. He says the Port Adams crowd is out--fifty of them, in big canoes--andcamping on his beach. They've killed half a dozen of his pigs already, and seem to be looking for trouble. And he's afraid they may connectwith the fifteen runaways from Lunga. "

"In which case?" she queried. 

"In which case Billy Pape will be compelled to send Boucher's successor. It's Pape's station, you know. I wish I knew what to do. I don't liketo leave you here alone. "

"Take me along then. "

He smiled and shook his head. 

"Then you'd better take my men along, " she advised. "They're good shots, and they're not afraid of anything--except Utami, and he's afraid ofghosts. "

The big bell was rung, and fifty black boys carried the whale-boat downto the water. The regular boat's-crew manned her, and Matauare and threeother Tahitians, belted with cartridges and armed with rifles, sat in thestern-sheets where Sheldon stood at the steering-oar. 

"My, I wish I could go with you, " Joan said wistfully, as the boat shovedoff. 

Sheldon shook his head. 

"I'm as good as a man, " she urged. 

"You really are needed here, " he replied. 

"There's that Lunga crowd; they might reach the coast right here, andwith both of us absent rush the plantation. Good-bye. We'll get back inthe morning some time. It's only twelve miles. "

When Joan started to return to the house, she was compelled to pass amongthe boat-carriers, who lingered on the beach to chatter in queer, ape-like fashion about the events of the night. They made way for her, butthere came to her, as she was in the midst of them, a feeling of her ownhelplessness. There were so many of them. What was to prevent them fromdragging her down if they so willed? Then she remembered that one cry ofhers would fetch Noa Noah and her remaining sailors, each one of whom wasworth a dozen blacks in a struggle. As she opened the gate, one of theboys stepped up to her. In the darkness she could not make him out. 

"What name?" she asked sharply. "What name belong you?"

"Me Aroa, " he said. 

She remembered him as one of the two sick boys she had nursed at thehospital. The other one had died. 

"Me take 'm plenty fella medicine too much, " Aroa was saying. 

"Well, and you all right now, " she answered. 

"Me want 'm tobacco, plenty fella tobacco; me want 'm calico; me want 'mporpoise teeth; me want 'm one fella belt. "

She looked at him humorously, expecting to see a smile, or at least agrin, on his face. Instead, his face was expressionless. Save for anarrow breech-clout, a pair of ear-plugs, and about his kinky hair achaplet of white cowrie-shells, he was naked. His body was fresh-oiledand shiny, and his eyes glistened in the starlight like some wildanimal's. The rest of the boys had crowded up at his back in a solidwall. Some one of them giggled, but the remainder regarded her in moroseand intense silence. 

"Well?" she said. "What for you want plenty fella things?"

"Me take 'm medicine, " quoth Aroa. "You pay me. "

And this was a sample of their gratitude, she thought. It looked as ifSheldon had been right after all. Aroa waited stolidly. A leaping fishsplashed far out on the water. A tiny wavelet murmured sleepily on thebeach. The shadow of a flying-fox drifted by in velvet silence overhead. A light air fanned coolly on her cheek; it was the land-breeze beginningto blow. 

"You go along quarters, " she said, starting to turn on her heel to enterthe gate. 

"You pay me, " said the boy. 

"Aroa, you all the same one big fool. I no pay you. Now you go. "

But the black was unmoved. She felt that he was regarding her almostinsolently as he repeated:

"I take 'm medicine. You pay me. You pay me now. "

Then it was that she lost her temper and cuffed his ears so soundly as todrive him back among his fellows. But they did not break up. Anotherboy stepped forward. 

"You pay me, " he said. 

His eyes had the querulous, troubled look such as she had noticed inmonkeys; but while he was patently uncomfortable under her scrutiny, histhick lips were drawn firmly in an effort at sullen determination. 

"What for?" she asked. 

"Me Gogoomy, " he said. "Bawo brother belong me. "

Bawo, she remembered, was the sick boy who had died. 

"Go on, " she commanded. 

"Bawo take 'm medicine. Bawo finish. Bawo my brother. You pay me. Father belong me one big fella chief along Port Adams. You pay me. "

Joan laughed. 

"Gogoomy, you just the same as Aroa, one big fool. My word, who pay mefor medicine?"

She dismissed the matter by passing through the gate and closing it. ButGogoomy pressed up against it and said impudently:

"Father belong me one big fella chief. You no bang 'm head belong me. Myword, you fright too much. "

"Me fright?" she demanded, while anger tingled all through her. 

"Too much fright bang 'm head belong me, " Gogoomy said proudly. 

And then she reached for him across the gate and got him. It was asweeping, broad-handed slap, so heavy that he staggered sideways andnearly fell. He sprang for the gate as if to force it open, while thecrowd surged forward against the fence. Joan thought rapidly. Herrevolver was hanging on the wall of her grass house. Yet one cry wouldbring her sailors, and she knew she was safe. So she did not cry forhelp. Instead, she whistled for Satan, at the same time calling him byname. She knew he was shut up in the living room, but the blacks did notwait to see. They fled with wild yells through the darkness, followedreluctantly by Gogoomy; while she entered the bungalow, laughing atfirst, but finally vexed to the verge of tears by what had taken place. She had sat up a whole night with the boy who had died, and yet hisbrother demanded to be paid for his life. 

"Ugh! the ungrateful beast!" she muttered, while she debated whether ornot she would confess the incident to Sheldon. 

CHAPTER XI--THE PORT ADAMS CROWD

"And so it was all settled easily enough, " Sheldon was saying. He was onthe veranda, drinking coffee. The whale-boat was being carried into itsshed. "Boucher was a bit timid at first to carry off the situation witha strong hand, but he did very well once we got started. We made a playat holding a court, and Telepasse, the old scoundrel, accepted thefindings. He's a Port Adams chief, a filthy beggar. We fined him tentimes the value of the pigs, and made him move on with his mob. Oh, they're a sweet lot, I must say, at least sixty of them, in five bigcanoes, and out for trouble. They've got a dozen Sniders that ought tobe confiscated. "

"Why didn't you?" Joan asked. 

"And have a row on my hands with the Commissioner? He's terribly touchyabout his black wards, as he calls them. Well, we started them alongtheir way, though they went in on the beach to _kai-kai_ several milesback. They ought to pass here some time to-day. "

Two hours later the canoes arrived. No one saw them come. The house-boys were busy in the kitchen at their own breakfast. The plantationhands were similarly occupied in their quarters. Satan lay sound asleepon his back under the billiard table, in his sleep brushing at the fliesthat pestered him. Joan was rummaging in the storeroom, and Sheldon wastaking his siesta in a hammock on the veranda. He awoke gently. In someoccult, subtle way a warning that all was not well had penetrated hissleep and aroused him. Without moving, he glanced down and saw theground beneath covered with armed savages. They were the same ones hehad parted with that morning, though he noted an accession in numbers. There were men he had not seen before. 

He slipped from the hammock and with deliberate slowness sauntered to therailing, where he yawned sleepily and looked down on them. It came tohim curiously that it was his destiny ever to stand on this high place, looking down on unending hordes of black trouble that required control, bullying, and cajolery. But while he glanced carelessly over them, hewas keenly taking stock. The new men were all armed with modern rifles. Ah, he had thought so. There were fifteen of them, undoubtedly the Lungarunaways. In addition, a dozen old Sniders were in the hands of theoriginal crowd. The rest were armed with spears, clubs, bows and arrows, and long-handled tomahawks. Beyond, drawn up on the beach, he could seethe big war-canoes, with high and fantastically carved bows and sterns, ornamented with scrolls and bands of white cowrie shells. These were themen who had killed his trader, Oscar, at Ugi. 

"What name you walk about this place?" he demanded. 

At the same time he stole a glance seaward to where the_Flibberty-Gibbet_ reflected herself in the glassy calm of the sea. Nota soul was visible under her awnings, and he saw the whale-boat wasmissing from alongside. The Tahitians had evidently gone shooting fishup the Balesuna. He was all alone in his high place above this trouble, while his world slumbered peacefully under the breathless tropic noon. 

Nobody replied, and he repeated his demand, more of mastery in his voicethis time, and a hint of growing anger. The blacks moved uneasily, likea herd of cattle, at the sound of his voice. But not one spoke. Alleyes, however, were staring at him in certitude of expectancy. Somethingwas about to happen, and they were waiting for it, waiting with theunanimous, unstable mob-mind for the one of them who would make the firstaction that would precipitate all of them into a common action. Sheldonlooked for this one, for such was the one to fear. Directly beneath himhe caught sight of the muzzle of a rifle, barely projecting between twoblack bodies, that was slowly elevating toward him. It was held at thehip by a man in the second row. 

"What name you?" Sheldon suddenly shouted, pointing directly at the manwho held the gun, who startled and lowered the muzzle. 

Sheldon still held the whip hand, and he intended to keep it. 

"Clear out, all you fella boys, " he ordered. "Clear out and walk alongsalt water. Savvee!"

"Me talk, " spoke up a fat and filthy savage whose hairy chest was cakedwith the unwashed dirt of years. 

"Oh, is that you, Telepasse?" the white man queried genially. "You tell'm boys clear out, and you stop and talk along me. "

"Him good fella boy, " was the reply. "Him stop along. "

"Well, what do you want?" Sheldon asked, striving to hide under assumedcarelessness the weakness of concession. 

"That fella boy belong along me. " The old chief pointed out Gogoomy, whom Sheldon recognized. 

"White Mary belong you too much no good, " Telepasse went on. "Bang 'mhead belong Gogoomy. Gogoomy all the same chief. Bimeby me finish, Gogoomy big fella chief. White Mary bang 'm head. No good. You pay meplenty tobacco, plenty powder, plenty calico. "

"You old scoundrel, " was Sheldon's comment. An hour before, he had beenchuckling over Joan's recital of the episode, and here, an hour later, was Telepasse himself come to collect damages. 

"Gogoomy, " Sheldon ordered, "what name you walk about here? You getalong quarters plenty quick. "

"Me stop, " was the defiant answer. 

"White Mary b'long you bang 'm head, " old Telepasse began again. "Myword, plenty big fella trouble you no pay. "

"You talk along boys, " Sheldon said, with increasing irritation. "Youtell 'm get to hell along beach. Then I talk with you. "

Sheldon felt a slight vibration of the veranda, and knew that Joan hadcome out and was standing by his side. But he did not dare glance ather. There were too many rifles down below there, and rifles had a wayof going off from the hip. 

Again the veranda vibrated with her moving weight, and he knew that Joanhad gone into the house. A minute later she was back beside him. He hadnever seen her smoke, and it struck him as peculiar that she should besmoking now. Then he guessed the reason. With a quick glance, he notedthe hand at her side, and in it the familiar, paper-wrapped dynamite. Henoted, also, the end of fuse, split properly, into which had beeninserted the head of a wax match. 

"Telepasse, you old reprobate, tell 'm boys clear out along beach. Myword, I no gammon along you. "

"Me no gammon, " said the chief. "Me want 'm pay white Mary bang 'm headb'long Gogoomy. "

"I'll come down there and bang 'm head b'long you, " Sheldon replied, leaning toward the railing as if about to leap over. 

An angry murmur arose, and the blacks surged restlessly. The muzzles ofmany guns were rising from the hips. Joan was pressing the lighted endof the cigarette to the fuse. A Snider went off with the roar of a bomb-gun, and Sheldon heard a pane of window-glass crash behind him. At thesame moment Joan flung the dynamite, the fuse hissing and spluttering, into the thick of the blacks. They scattered back in too great haste todo any more shooting. Satan, aroused by the one shot, was snarling andpanting to be let out. Joan heard, and ran to let him out; and thereatthe tragedy was averted, and the comedy began. 

Rifles and spears were dropped or flung aside in a wild scramble for theprotection of the cocoanut palms. Satan multiplied himself. Never hadhe been free to tear and rend such a quantity of black flesh before, andhe bit and snapped and rushed the flying legs till the last pair wereabove his head. All were treed except Telepasse, who was too old andfat, and he lay prone and without movement where he had fallen; whileSatan, with too great a heart to worry an enemy that did not move, dashedfrantically from tree to tree, barking and springing at those who clungon lowest down. 

"I fancy you need a lesson or two in inserting fuses, " Sheldon remarkeddryly. 

Joan's eyes were scornful. 

"There was no detonator on it, " she said. "Besides, the detonator is notyet manufactured that will explode that charge. It's only a bottle ofchlorodyne. "

She put her fingers into her mouth, and Sheldon winced as he saw herblow, like a boy, a sharp, imperious whistle--the call she always usedfor her sailors, and that always made him wince. 

"They're gone up the Balesuna, shooting fish, " he explained. "But therecomes Oleson with his boat's-crew. He's an old war-horse when he getsstarted. See him banging the boys. They don't pull fast enough forhim. "

"And now what's to be done?" she asked. "You've treed your game, but youcan't keep it treed. "

"No; but I can teach them a lesson. "

Sheldon walked over to the big bell. 

"It is all right, " he replied to her gesture of protest. "My boys arepractically all bushmen, while these chaps are salt-water men, andthere's no love lost between them. You watch the fun. "

He rang a general call, and by the time the two hundred labourers troopedinto the compound Satan was once more penned in the living-room, complaining to high heaven at his abominable treatment. The plantationhands were dancing war-dances around the base of every tree and fillingthe air with abuse and vituperation of their hereditary enemies. Theskipper of the _Flibberty-Gibbet_ arrived in the thick of it, in thefirst throes of oncoming fever, staggering as he walked, and shivering soseverely that he could scarcely hold the rifle he carried. His face wasghastly blue, his teeth clicked and chattered, and the violent sunshinethrough which he walked could not warm him. 

"I'll s-s-sit down, and k-k-keep a guard on 'em, " he chattered. "D-d-dashit all, I always g-get f-fever when there's any excitement. W-w-wh-whatare you going to do?"

"Gather up the guns first of all. "

Under Sheldon's direction the house-boys and gang-bosses collected thescattered arms and piled them in a heap on the veranda. The modernrifles, stolen from Lunga, Sheldon set aside; the Sniders he smashed intofragments; the pile of spears, clubs, and tomahawks he presented to Joan. 

"A really unique addition to your collection, " he smiled; "picked upright on the battlefield. "

Down on the beach he built a bonfire out of the contents of the canoes, his blacks smashing, breaking, and looting everything they laid hands on. The canoes themselves, splintered and broken, filled with sand and coral-boulders, were towed out to ten fathoms of water and sunk. 

"Ten fathoms will be deep enough for them to work in, " Sheldon said, asthey walked back to the compound. 

Here a Saturnalia had broken loose. The war-songs and dances were moreunrestrained, and, from abuse, the plantation blacks had turned topelting their helpless foes with pieces of wood, handfuls of pebbles, andchunks of coral-rock. And the seventy-five lusty cannibals clungstoically to their tree-perches, enduring the rain of missiles andsnarling down promises of vengeance. 

"There'll be wars for forty years on Malaita on account of this, " Sheldonlaughed. "But I always fancy old Telepasse will never again attempt torush a plantation. "

"Eh, you old scoundrel, " he added, turning to the old chief, who satgibbering in impotent rage at the foot of the steps. "Now head belongyou bang 'm too. Come on, Miss Lackland, bang 'm just once. It will bethe crowning indignity. "

"Ugh, he's too dirty. I'd rather give him a bath. Here, you, AdamuAdam, give this devil-devil a wash. Soap and water! Fill that wash-tub. Ornfiri, run and fetch 'm scrub-brush. "

The Tahitians, back from their fishing and grinning at the bedlam of thecompound, entered into the joke. 

"_Tambo_! _Tambo_!" shrieked the cannibals from the trees, appalled atso awful a desecration, as they saw their chief tumbled into the tub andthe sacred dirt rubbed and soused from his body. 

Joan, who had gone into the bungalow, tossed down a strip of whitecalico, in which old Telepasse was promptly wrapped, and he stood forth, resplendent and purified, withal he still spat and strangled from thesoap-suds with which Noa Noah had gargled his throat. 

The house-boys were directed to fetch handcuffs, and, one by one, theLunga runaways were haled down out of their trees and made fast. Sheldonironed them in pairs, and ran a steel chain through the links of theirons. Gogoomy was given a lecture for his mutinous conduct and lockedup for the afternoon. Then Sheldon rewarded the plantation hands with anafternoon's holiday, and, when they had withdrawn from the compound, permitted the Port Adams men to descend from the trees. And allafternoon he and Joan loafed in the cool of the veranda and watched themdiving down and emptying their sunken canoes of the sand and rocks. Itwas twilight when they embarked and paddled away with a few brokenpaddles. A breeze had sprung up, and the _Flibberty-Gibbet_ had alreadysailed for Lunga to return the runaways. 

CHAPTER XII--MR. MORGAN AND MR. RAFF

Sheldon was back in the plantation superintending the building of abridge, when the schooner _Malakula_ ran in close and dropped anchor. Joan watched the taking in of sail and the swinging out of the boat witha sailor's interest, and herself met the two men who came ashore. Whileone of the house-boys ran to fetch Sheldon, she had the visitors servedwith whisky and soda, and sat and talked with them. 

They seemed awkward and constrained in her presence, and she caught firstone and then the other looking at her with secret curiosity. She feltthat they were weighing her, appraising her, and for the first time theanomalous position she occupied on Berande sank sharply home to her. Onthe other hand, they puzzled her. They were neither traders nor sailorsof any type she had known. Nor did they talk like gentlemen, despite thefact that there was nothing offensive in their bearing and that theveneer of ordinary social nicety was theirs. Undoubtedly, they were menof affairs--business men of a sort; but what affairs should they have inthe Solomons, and what business on Berande? The elder one, Morgan, was ahuge man, bronzed and moustached, with a deep bass voice and an almostguttural speech, and the other, Raff, was slight and effeminate, withnervous hands and watery, washed-out gray eyes, who spoke with a faintindefinable accent that was hauntingly reminiscent of the Cockney, andthat was yet not Cockney of any brand she had ever encountered. Whateverthey were, they were self-made men, she concluded; and she felt theimpulse to shudder at thought of falling into their hands in a businessway. There, they would be merciless. 

She watched Sheldon closely when he arrived, and divined that he was notparticularly delighted to see them. But see them he must, and sopressing was the need that, after a little perfunctory generalconversation, he led the two men into the stuffy office. Later in theafternoon, she asked Lalaperu where they had gone. 

"My word, " quoth Lalaperu; "plenty walk about, plenty look 'm. Look 'mtree; look 'm ground belong tree; look 'm all fella bridge; look 'm copra-house; look 'm grass-land; look 'm river; look 'm whale-boat--my word, plenty big fella look 'm too much. "

"What fella man them two fella?" she queried. 

"Big fella marster along white man, " was the extent of his description. 

But Joan decided that they were men of importance in the Solomons, andthat their examination of the plantation and of its accounts was ofsinister significance. 

At dinner no word was dropped that gave a hint of their errand. Theconversation was on general topics; but Joan could not help noticing thetroubled, absent expression that occasionally came into Sheldon's eyes. After coffee, she left them; and at midnight, from across the compound, she could hear the low murmur of their voices and see glowing the fieryends of their cigars. Up early herself, she found they had alreadydeparted on another tramp over the plantation. 

"What you think?" she asked Viaburi. 

"Sheldon marster he go along finish short time little bit, " was theanswer. 

"What you think?" she asked Ornfiri. 

"Sheldon marster big fella walk about along Sydney. Yes, me t'ink so. Hefinish along Berande. "

All day the examination of the plantation and the discussion went on; andall day the skipper of the _Malakula_ sent urgent messages ashore for thetwo men to hasten. It was not until sunset that they went down to theboat, and even then a final talk of nearly an hour took place on thebeach. Sheldon was combating something--that she could plainly see; andthat his two visitors were not giving in she could also plainly see. 

"What name?" she asked lightly, when Sheldon sat down to dinner. 

He looked at her and smiled, but it was a very wan and wistful smile. 

"My word, " she went on. "One big fella talk. Sun he go down--talk-talk;sun he come up--talk-talk; all the time talk-talk. What name that fellatalk-talk?

"Oh, nothing much. " He shrugged his shoulders. "They were trying to buyBerande, that was all. "

She looked at him challengingly. 

"It must have been more than that. It was you who wanted to sell. "

"Indeed, no, Miss Lackland; I assure you that I am far from desiring tosell. "

"Don't let us fence about it, " she urged. "Let it be straight talkbetween us. You're in trouble. I'm not a fool. Tell me. Besides, Imay be able to help, to--to suggest something. "

In the pause that followed, he seemed to debate, not so much whether hewould tell her, as how to begin to tell her. 

"I'm American, you see, " she persisted, "and our American heritage is alarge parcel of business sense. I don't like it myself, but I know I'vegot it--at least more than you have. Let us talk it over and find a wayout. How much do you owe?"

"A thousand pounds, and a few trifles over--small bills, you know. Then, too, thirty of the boys finish their time next week, and their balanceswill average ten pounds each. But what is the need of bothering yourhead with it? Really, you know--"

"What is Berande worth?--right now?"

"Whatever Morgan and Raff are willing to pay for it. " A glance at herhurt expression decided him. "Hughie and I have sunk eight thousandpounds in it, and our time. It is a good property, and worth more thanthat. But it has three years to run before its returns begin to come in. That is why Hughie and I engaged in trading and recruiting. The _Jessie_and our stations came very near to paying the running expenses ofBerande. "

"And Morgan and Raff offered you what?"

"A thousand pounds clear, after paying all bills. "

"The thieves!" she cried. 

"No, they're good business men, that is all. As they told me, a thing isworth no more than one is willing to pay or to receive. "

"And how much do you need to carry on Berande for three years?" Joanhurried on. 

"Two hundred boys at six pounds a year means thirty-six hundredpounds--that's the main item. "

"My, how cheap labour does mount up! Thirty-six hundred pounds, eighteenthousand dollars, just for a lot of cannibals! Yet the place is goodsecurity. You could go down to Sydney and raise the money. "

He shook his head. 

"You can't get them to look at plantations down there. They've beentaken in too often. But I do hate to give the place up--more forHughie's sake, I swear, than my own. He was bound up in it. You see, hewas a persistent chap, and hated to acknowledge defeat. It--it makes meuncomfortable to think of it myself. We were running slowly behind, butwith the _Jessie_ we hoped to muddle through in some fashion. "

"You were muddlers, the pair of you, without doubt. But you needn't sellto Morgan and Raff. I shall go down to Sydney on the next steamer, andI'll come back in a second-hand schooner. I should be able to buy onefor five or six thousand dollars--"

He held up his hand in protest, but she waved it aside. 

"I may manage to freight a cargo back as well. At any rate, the schoonerwill take over the _Jessie's_ business. You can make your arrangementsaccordingly, and have plenty of work for her when I get back. I'm goingto become a partner in Berande to the extent of my bag of sovereigns--I'vegot over fifteen hundred of them, you know. We'll draw up an agreementright now--that is, with your permission, and I know you won't refuseit. "

He looked at her with good-natured amusement. 

"You know I sailed here all the way from Tahiti in order to become aplanter, " she insisted. "You know what my plans were. Now I've changedthem, that's all. I'd rather be a part owner of Berande and get myreturns in three years, than break ground on Pari-Sulay and wait sevenyears. "

"And this--er--this schooner. . . . " Sheldon changed his mind andstopped. 

"Yes, go on. "

"You won't be angry?" he queried. 

"No, no; this is business. Go on. "

"You--er--you would run her yourself?--be the captain, in short?--and gorecruiting on Malaita?"

"Certainly. We would save the cost of a skipper. Under an agreement youwould be credited with a manager's salary, and I with a captain's. It'squite simple. Besides, if you won't let me be your partner, I shall buyPari-Sulay, get a much smaller vessel, and run her myself. So what isthe difference?"

"The difference?--why, all the difference in the world. In the case ofPari-Sulay you would be on an independent venture. You could turncannibal for all I could interfere in the matter. But on Berande, youwould be my partner, and then I would be responsible. And of course Icouldn't permit you, as my partner, to be skipper of a recruiter. I tellyou, the thing is what I would not permit any sister or wife of mine--"

"But I'm not going to be your wife, thank goodness--only your partner. "

"Besides, it's all ridiculous, " he held on steadily. "Think of thesituation. A man and a woman, both young, partners on an isolatedplantation. Why, the only practical way out would be that I'd have tomarry you--"

"Mine was a business proposition, not a marriage proposal, " sheinterrupted, coldly angry. "I wonder if somewhere in this world there isone man who could accept me for a comrade. "

"But you are a woman just the same, " he began, "and there are certainconventions, certain decencies--"

She sprang up and stamped her foot. 

"Do you know what I'd like to say?" she demanded. 

"Yes, " he smiled, "you'd like to say, 'Damn petticoats!'"

She nodded her head ruefully. 

"That's what I wanted to say, but it sounds different on your lips. Itsounds as though you meant it yourself, and that you meant it because ofme. "

"Well, I am going to bed. But do, please, think over my proposition, andlet me know in the morning. There's no use in my discussing it now. Youmake me so angry. You are cowardly, you know, and very egotistic. Youare afraid of what other fools will say. No matter how honest yourmotives, if others criticized your actions your feelings would be hurt. And you think more about your own wretched feelings than you do aboutmine. And then, being a coward--all men are at heart cowards--youdisguise your cowardice by calling it chivalry. I thank heaven that Iwas not born a man. Good-night. Do think it over. And don't befoolish. What Berande needs is good American hustle. You don't knowwhat that is. You are a muddler. Besides, you are enervated. I'm freshto the climate. Let me be your partner, and you'll see me rattle the drybones of the Solomons. Confess, I've rattled yours already. "

"I should say so, " he answered. "Really, you know, you have. I neverreceived such a dressing-down in my life. If any one had ever told methat I'd be a party even to the present situation. . . . Yes, I confess, you have rattled my dry bones pretty considerably. "

"But that is nothing to the rattling they are going to get, " she assuredhim, as he rose and took her hand. "Good-night. And do, do give me arational decision in the morning. "

CHAPTER XIII--THE LOGIC OF YOUTH

"I wish I knew whether you are merely headstrong, or whether you reallyintend to be a Solomon planter, " Sheldon said in the morning, atbreakfast. 

"I wish you were more adaptable, " Joan retorted. "You have morepreconceived notions than any man I ever met. Why in the name of commonsense, in the name of . . . Fair play, can't you get it into your headthat I am different from the women you have known, and treat meaccordingly? You surely ought to know I am different. I sailed my ownschooner here--skipper, if you please. I came here to make my living. You know that; I've told you often enough. It was Dad's plan, and I'mcarrying it out, just as you are trying to carry out your Hughie's plan. Dad started to sail and sail until he could find the proper islands forplanting. He died, and I sailed and sailed until I arrived here. Well, "--she shrugged her shoulders--"the schooner is at the bottom of thesea. I can't sail any farther, therefore I remain here. And a planter Ishall certainly be. "

"You see--" he began. 

"I haven't got to the point, " she interrupted. "Looking back on myconduct from the moment I first set foot on your beach, I can see nofalse pretence that I have made about myself or my intentions. I was mynatural self to you from the first. I told you my plans; and yet you sitthere and calmly tell me that you don't know whether I really intend tobecome a planter, or whether it is all obstinacy and pretence. Now letme assure you, for the last time, that I really and truly shall become aplanter, thanks to you, or in spite of you. Do you want me for apartner?"

"But do you realize that I would be looked upon as the most foolishjackanapes in the South Seas if I took a young girl like you in with mehere on Berande?" he asked. 

"No; decidedly not. But there you are again, worrying about what idiotsand the generally evil-minded will think of you. I should have thoughtyou had learned self-reliance on Berande, instead of needing to lean uponthe moral support of every whisky-guzzling worthless South Sea vagabond. "

He smiled, and said, --

"Yes, that is the worst of it. You are unanswerable. Yours is the logicof youth, and no man can answer that. The facts of life can, but theyhave no place in the logic of youth. Youth must try to live according toits logic. That is the only way to learn better. "

"There is no harm in trying?" she interjected. 

"But there is. That is the very point. The facts always smash youth'slogic, and they usually smash youth's heart, too. It's like platonicfriendships and . . . And all such things; they are all right in theory, but they won't work in practice. I used to believe in such things once. That is why I am here in the Solomons at present. "

Joan was impatient. He saw that she could not understand. Life was tooclearly simple to her. It was only the youth who was arguing with him, the youth with youth's pure-minded and invincible reasoning. Hers wasonly the boy's soul in a woman's body. He looked at her flushed, eagerface, at the great ropes of hair coiled on the small head, at the roundedlines of the figure showing plainly through the home-made gown, and atthe eyes--boy's eyes, under cool, level brows--and he wondered why abeing that was so much beautiful woman should be no woman at all. Why inthe deuce was she not carroty-haired, or cross-eyed, or hare-lipped?

"Suppose we do become partners on Berande, " he said, at the same timeexperiencing a feeling of fright at the prospect that was tangled with acontradictory feeling of charm, "either I'll fall in love with you, oryou with me. Propinquity is dangerous, you know. In fact, it ispropinquity that usually gives the facer to the logic of youth. "

"If you think I came to the Solomons to get married--" she beganwrathfully. "Well, there are better men in Hawaii, that's all. Really, you know, the way you harp on that one string would lead an unprejudicedlistener to conclude that you are prurient-minded--"

She stopped, appalled. His face had gone red and white with suchabruptness as to startle her. He was patently very angry. She sippedthe last of her coffee, and arose, saying, --

"I'll wait until you are in a better temper before taking up thediscussion again. That is what's the matter with you. You get angry tooeasily. Will you come swimming? The tide is just right. "

"If she were a man I'd bundle her off the plantation root and crop, whale-boat, Tahitian sailors, sovereigns, and all, " he muttered to himselfafter she had left the room. 

But that was the trouble. She was not a man, and where would she go, andwhat would happen to her?

He got to his feet, lighted a cigarette, and her Stetson hat, hanging onthe wall over her revolver-belt, caught his eye. That was the devil ofit, too. He did not want her to go. After all, she had not grown upyet. That was why her logic hurt. It was only the logic of youth, butit could hurt damnably at times. At any rate, he would resolve upon onething: never again would he lose his temper with her. She was a child;he must remember that. He sighed heavily. But why in reasonableness hadsuch a child been incorporated in such a woman's form?

And as he continued to stare at her hat and think, the hurt he hadreceived passed away, and he found himself cudgelling his brains for someway out of the muddle--for some method by which she could remain onBerande. A chaperone! Why not? He could send to Sydney on the firststeamer for one. He could--

Her trilling laughter smote upon his reverie, and he stepped to thescreen-door, through which he could see her running down the path to thebeach. At her heels ran two of her sailors, Papehara and Mahameme, inscarlet lava-lavas, with naked sheath-knives gleaming in their belts. Itwas another sample of her wilfulness. Despite entreaties and commands, and warnings of the danger from sharks, she persisted in swimming at anyand all times, and by special preference, it seemed to him, immediatelyafter eating. 

He watched her take the water, diving cleanly, like a boy, from the endof the little pier; and he watched her strike out with single overhandstroke, her henchmen swimming a dozen feet on either side. He did nothave much faith in their ability to beat off a hungry man-eater, thoughhe did believe, implicitly, that their lives would go bravely before hersin case of an attack. 

Straight out they swam, their heads growing smaller and smaller. Therewas a slight, restless heave to the sea, and soon the three heads weredisappearing behind it with greater frequency. He strained his eyes tokeep them in sight, and finally fetched the telescope on to the veranda. A squall was making over from the direction of Florida; but then, she andher men laughed at squalls and the white choppy sea at such times. Shecertainly could swim, he had long since concluded. That came of hertraining in Hawaii. But sharks were sharks, and he had known of morethan one good swimmer drowned in a tide-rip. 

The squall blackened the sky, beat the ocean white where he had last seenthe three heads, and then blotted out sea and sky and everything with itsdeluge of rain. It passed on, and Berande emerged in the bright sunshineas the three swimmers emerged from the sea. Sheldon slipped inside withthe telescope, and through the screen-door watched her run up the path, shaking down her hair as she ran, to the fresh-water shower under thehouse. 

On the veranda that afternoon he broached the proposition of a chaperoneas delicately as he could, explaining the necessity at Berande for such abody, a housekeeper to run the boys and the storeroom, and perform diversother useful functions. When he had finished, he waited anxiously forwhat Joan would say. 

"Then you don't like the way I've been managing the house?" was her firstobjection. And next, brushing his attempted explanations aside, "One oftwo things would happen. Either I should cancel our partnershipagreement and go away, leaving you to get another chaperone to chaperoneyour chaperone; or else I'd take the old hen out in the whale-boat anddrown her. Do you imagine for one moment that I sailed my schooner downhere to this raw edge of the earth in order to put myself under achaperone?"

"But really . . . Er . . . You know a chaperone is a necessary evil, " heobjected. 

"We've got along very nicely so far without one. Did I have one on the_Miele_? And yet I was the only woman on board. There are only threethings I am afraid of--bumble-bees, scarlet fever, and chaperones. Ugh!the clucking, evil-minded monsters, finding wrong in everything, seeingsin in the most innocent actions, and suggesting sin--yes, causing sin--bytheir diseased imaginings. "

"Phew!" Sheldon leaned back from the table in mock fear. 

"You needn't worry about your bread and butter, " he ventured. "If youfail at planting, you would be sure to succeed as a writer--novels with apurpose, you know. "

"I didn't think there were persons in the Solomons who needed suchbooks, " she retaliated. "But you are certainly one--you and yourcustodians of virtue. "

He winced, but Joan rattled on with the platitudinous originality ofyouth. 

"As if anything good were worth while when it has to be guarded and putin leg-irons and handcuffs in order to keep it good. Your desire for achaperone as much as implies that I am that sort of creature. I preferto be good because it is good to be good, rather than because I can't bebad because some argus-eyed old frump won't let me have a chance to bebad. "

"But it--it is not that, " he put in. "It is what others will think. "

"Let them think, the nasty-minded wretches! It is because men like youare afraid of the nasty-minded that you allow their opinions to ruleyou. "

"I am afraid you are a female Shelley, " he replied; "and as such, youreally drive me to become your partner in order to protect you. "

"If you take me as a partner in order to protect me . . . I . . . Ishan't be your partner, that's all. You'll drive me into buying Pari-Sulay yet. "

"All the more reason--" he attempted. 

"Do you know what I'll do?" she demanded. "I'll find some man in theSolomons who won't want to protect me. "

Sheldon could not conceal the shock her words gave him. 

"You don't mean that, you know, " he pleaded. 

"I do; I really do. I am sick and tired of this protection dodge. Don'tforget for a moment that I am perfectly able to take care of myself. Besides, I have eight of the best protectors in the world--my sailors. "

"You should have lived a thousand years ago, " he laughed, "or a thousandyears hence. You are very primitive, and equally super-modern. Thetwentieth century is no place for you. "

"But the Solomon Islands are. You were living like a savage when I camealong and found you--eating nothing but tinned meat and scones that wouldhave ruined the digestion of a camel. Anyway, I've remedied that; andsince we are to be partners, it will stay remedied. You won't die ofmalnutrition, be sure of that. "

"If we enter into partnership, " he announced, "it must be thoroughlyunderstood that you are not allowed to run the schooner. You can go downto Sydney and buy her, but a skipper we must have--"

"At so much additional expense, and most likely a whisky-drinking, irresponsible, and incapable man to boot. Besides, I'd have the businessmore at heart than any man we could hire. As for capability, I tell youI can sail all around the average broken captain or promoted able seamanyou find in the South Seas. And you know I am a navigator. "

"But being my partner, " he said coolly, "makes you none the less a lady. "

"Thank you for telling me that my contemplated conduct is unladylike. "

She arose, tears of anger and mortification in her eyes, and went over tothe phonograph. 

"I wonder if all men are as ridiculous as you?" she said. 

He shrugged his shoulders and smiled. Discussion was useless--he hadlearned that; and he was resolved to keep his temper. And before the daywas out she capitulated. She was to go to Sydney on the first steamer, purchase the schooner, and sail back with an island skipper on board. Andthen she inveigled Sheldon into agreeing that she could take occasionalcruises in the islands, though he was adamant when it came to arecruiting trip on Malaita. That was the one thing barred. 

And after it was all over, and a terse and business-like agreement (byher urging) drawn up and signed, Sheldon paced up and down for a fullhour, meditating upon how many different kinds of a fool he had made ofhimself. It was an impossible situation, and yet no more impossible thanthe previous one, and no more impossible than the one that would haveobtained had she gone off on her own and bought Pari-Sulay. He had neverseen a more independent woman who stood more in need of a protector thanthis boy-minded girl who had landed on his beach with eight picturesquesavages, a long-barrelled revolver, a bag of gold, and a gaudymerchandise of imagined romance and adventure. 

He had never read of anything to compare with it. The fictionists, asusual, were exceeded by fact. The whole thing was too preposterous to betrue. He gnawed his moustache and smoked cigarette after cigarette. Satan, back from a prowl around the compound, ran up to him and touchedhis hand with a cold, damp nose. Sheldon caressed the animal's ears, then threw himself into a chair and laughed heartily. What would theCommissioner of the Solomons think? What would his people at home think?And in the one breath he was glad that the partnership had been effectedand sorry that Joan Lackland had ever come to the Solomons. Then he wentinside and looked at himself in a hand-mirror. He studied the reflectionlong and thoughtfully and wonderingly. 

CHAPTER XIV--THE MARTHA

They were deep in a game of billiards the next morning, after the eleveno'clock breakfast, when Viaburi entered and announced, --

"Big fella schooner close up. "

Even as he spoke, they heard the rumble of chain through hawse-pipe, andfrom the veranda saw a big black-painted schooner, swinging to her just-caught anchor. 

"It's a Yankee, " Joan cried. "See that bow! Look at that ellipticalstern! Ah, I thought so--" as the Stars and Stripes fluttered to themast-head. 

Noa Noah, at Sheldon's direction, ran the Union Jack up the flagstaff. 

"Now what is an American vessel doing down here?" Joan asked. "It's nota yacht, though I'll wager she can sail. Look! Her name! What is it?"

"_Martha_, San Francisco, " Sheldon read, looking through the telescope. "It's the first Yankee I ever heard of in the Solomons. They are comingashore, whoever they are. And, by Jove, look at those men at the oars. It's an all-white crew. Now what reason brings them here?"

"They're not proper sailors, " Joan commented. "I'd be ashamed of a crewof black-boys that pulled in such fashion. Look at that fellow in thebow--the one just jumping out; he'd be more at home on a cow-pony. "

The boat's-crew scattered up and down the beach, ranging about with eagercuriosity, while the two men who had sat in the stern-sheets opened thegate and came up the path to the bungalow. One of them, a tall andslender man, was clad in white ducks that fitted him like a semi-militaryuniform. The other man, in nondescript garments that were both of thesea and shore, and that must have been uncomfortably hot, slouched andshambled like an overgrown ape. To complete the illusion, his faceseemed to sprout in all directions with a dense, bushy mass of redwhiskers, while his eyes were small and sharp and restless. 

Sheldon, who had gone to the head of the steps, introduced them to Joan. The bewhiskered individual, who looked like a Scotsman, had the Teutonicname of Von Blix, and spoke with a strong American accent. The tall manin the well-fitting ducks, who gave the English name of Tudor--JohnTudor--talked purely-enunciated English such as any cultured Americanwould talk, save for the fact that it was most delicately and subtlytouched by a faint German accent. Joan decided that she had been helpedto identify the accent by the short German-looking moustache that did notconceal the mouth and its full red lips, which would have formed aCupid's bow but for some harshness or severity of spirit that had mouldedthem masculinely. 

Von Blix was rough and boorish, but Tudor was gracefully easy ineverything he did, or looked, or said. His blue eyes sparkled andflashed, his clean-cut mobile features were an index to his slightestshades of feeling and expression. He bubbled with enthusiasms, and hisfaintest smile or lightest laugh seemed spontaneous and genuine. But itwas only occasionally at first that he spoke, for Von Blix told theirstory and stated their errand. 

They were on a gold-hunting expedition. He was the leader, and Tudor washis lieutenant. All hands--and there were twenty-eight--wereshareholders, in varying proportions, in the adventure. Several weresailors, but the large majority were miners, culled from all the campsfrom Mexico to the Arctic Ocean. It was the old and ever-untiringpursuit of gold, and they had come to the Solomons to get it. Part ofthem, under the leadership of Tudor, were to go up the Balesuna andpenetrate the mountainous heart of Guadalcanar, while the _Martha_, underVon Blix, sailed away for Malaita to put through similar exploration. 

"And so, " said Von Blix, "for Mr. Tudor's expedition we must have someblack-boys. Can we get them from you?"

"Of course we will pay, " Tudor broke in. "You have only to charge whatyou consider them worth. You pay them six pounds a year, don't you?"

"In the first place we can't spare them, " Sheldon answered. "We areshort of them on the plantation as it is. "

"_We_?" Tudor asked quickly. "Then you are a firm or a partnership? Iunderstood at Guvutu that you were alone, that you had lost yourpartner. "

Sheldon inclined his head toward Joan, and as he spoke she felt that hehad become a trifle stiff. 

"Miss Lackland has become interested in the plantation since then. Butto return to the boys. We can't spare them, and besides, they would beof little use. You couldn't get them to accompany you beyond Binu, whichis a short day's work with the boats from here. They are Malaita-men, and they are afraid of being eaten. They would desert you at the firstopportunity. You could get the Binu men to accompany you another day'sjourney, through the grass-lands, but at the first roll of the foothillslook for them to turn back. They likewise are disinclined to beingeaten. "

"Is it as bad as that?" asked Von Blix. 

"The interior of Guadalcanar has never been explored, " Sheldon explained. "The bushmen are as wild men as are to be found anywhere in the world to-day. I have never seen one. I have never seen a man who has seen one. They never come down to the coast, though their scouting partiesoccasionally eat a coast native who has wandered too far inland. Nobodyknows anything about them. They don't even use tobacco--have neverlearned its use. The Austrian expedition--scientists, you know--got partway in before it was cut to pieces. The monument is up the beach thereseveral miles. Only one man got back to the coast to tell the tale. Andnow you have all I or any other man knows of the inside of Guadalcanar. "

"But gold--have you heard of gold?" Tudor asked impatiently. "Do youknow anything about gold?"

Sheldon smiled, while the two visitors hung eagerly upon his words. 

"You can go two miles up the Balesuna and wash colours from the gravel. I've done it often. There is gold undoubtedly back in the mountains. "

Tudor and Von Blix looked triumphantly at each other. 

"Old Wheatsheaf's yarn was true, then, " Tudor said, and Von Blix nodded. "And if Malaita turns out as well--"

Tudor broke off and looked at Joan. 

"It was the tale of this old beachcomber that brought us here, " heexplained. "Von Blix befriended him and was told the secret. " He turnedand addressed Sheldon. "I think we shall prove that white men have beenthrough the heart of Guadalcanar long before the time of the Austrianexpedition. "

Sheldon shrugged his shoulders. 

"We have never heard of it down here, " he said simply. Then he addressedVon Blix. "As to the boys, you couldn't use them farther than Binu, andI'll lend you as many as you want as far as that. How many of your partyare going, and how soon will you start?"

"Ten, " said Tudor; "nine men and myself. "

"And you should be able to start day after to-morrow, " Von Blix said tohim. "The boats should practically be knocked together this afternoon. To-morrow should see the outfit portioned and packed. As for the_Martha_, Mr. Sheldon, we'll rush the stuff ashore this afternoon andsail by sundown. "

As the two men returned down the path to their boat, Sheldon regardedJoan quizzically. 

"There's romance for you, " he said, "and adventure--gold-hunting amongthe cannibals. "

"A title for a book, " she cried. "Or, better yet, 'Gold-Hunting Amongthe Head-Hunters. ' My! wouldn't it sell!"

"And now aren't you sorry you became a cocoanut planter?" he teased. "Think of investing in such an adventure. "

"If I did, " she retorted, "Von Blix wouldn't be finicky about my joiningin the cruise to Malaita. "

"I don't doubt but what he would jump at it. "

"What do you think of them?" she asked. 

"Oh, old Von Blix is all right, a solid sort of chap in his fashion; butTudor is fly-away--too much on the surface, you know. If it came tobeing wrecked on a desert island, I'd prefer Von Blix. "

"I don't quite understand, " Joan objected. "What have you againstTudor?"

"You remember Browning's 'Last Duchess'?"

She nodded. 

"Well, Tudor reminds me of her--"

"But she was delightful. "

"So she was. But she was a woman. One expects something different froma man--more control, you know, more restraint, more deliberation. A manmust be more solid, more solid and steady-going and less effervescent. Aman of Tudor's type gets on my nerves. One demands more repose from aman. "

Joan felt that she did not quite agree with his judgment; and, somehow, Sheldon caught her feeling and was disturbed. He remembered noting howher eyes had brightened as she talked with the newcomer--confound it all, was he getting jealous? he asked himself. Why shouldn't her eyesbrighten? What concern was it of his?

A second boat had been lowered, and the outfit of the shore party waslanded rapidly. A dozen of the crew put the knocked-down boats togetheron the beach. There were five of these craft--lean and narrow, withflaring sides, and remarkably long. Each was equipped with three paddlesand several iron-shod poles. 

"You chaps certainly seem to know river-work, " Sheldon told one of thecarpenters. 

The man spat a mouthful of tobacco-juice into the white sand, andanswered, --

"We use 'em in Alaska. They're modelled after the Yukon poling-boats, and you can bet your life they're crackerjacks. This creek'll be a snapalongside some of them Northern streams. Five hundred pounds in one ofthem boats, an' two men can snake it along in a way that'd surprise you. "

At sunset the _Martha_ broke out her anchor and got under way, dippingher flag and saluting with a bomb gun. The Union Jack ran up and downthe staff, and Sheldon replied with his brass signal-cannon. The minerspitched their tents in the compound, and cooked on the beach, while Tudordined with Joan and Sheldon. 

Their guest seemed to have been everywhere and seen everything and meteverybody, and, encouraged by Joan, his talk was largely upon his ownadventures. He was an adventurer of adventurers, and by his own accounthad been born into adventure. Descended from old New England stock, hisfather a consul-general, he had been born in Germany, in which country hehad received his early education and his accent. Then, still a boy, hehad rejoined his father in Turkey, and accompanied him later to Persia, his father having been appointed Minister to that country. 

Tudor had always been a wanderer, and with facile wit and quick vividdescription he leaped from episode and place to episode and place, relating his experiences seemingly not because they were his, but for thesake of their bizarreness and uniqueness, for the unusual incident or thelaughable situation. He had gone through South American revolutions, been a Rough Rider in Cuba, a scout in South Africa, a war correspondentin the Russo-Japanese war. He had _mushed_ dogs in the Klondike, washedgold from the sands of Nome, and edited a newspaper in San Francisco. ThePresident of the United States was his friend. He was equally at home inthe clubs of London and the Continent, the Grand Hotel at Yokohama, andthe selector's shanties in the Never-Never country. He had shot big gamein Siam, pearled in the Paumotus, visited Tolstoy, seen the Passion Play, and crossed the Andes on mule-back; while he was a living directory ofthe fever holes of West Africa. 

Sheldon leaned back in his chair on the veranda, sipping his coffee andlistening. In spite of himself he felt touched by the charm of the manwho had led so varied a life. And yet Sheldon was not comfortable. Itseemed to him that the man addressed himself particularly to Joan. Hiswords and smiles were directed impartially toward both of them, yetSheldon was certain, had the two men of them been alone, that theconversation would have been along different lines. Tudor had seen theeffect on Joan and deliberately continued the flow of reminiscence, netting her in the glamour of romance. Sheldon watched her raptattention, listened to her spontaneous laughter, quick questions, andpassing judgments, and felt grow within him the dawning consciousnessthat he loved her. 

So he was very quiet and almost sad, though at times he was aware of adistinct irritation against his guest, and he even speculated as to whatpercentage of Tudor's tale was true and how any of it could be proved ordisproved. In this connection, as if the scene had been prepared by aclever playwright, Utami came upon the veranda to report to Joan thecapture of a crocodile in the trap they had made for her. 

Tudor's face, illuminated by the match with which he was lighting hiscigarette, caught Utami's eye, and Utami forgot to report to hismistress. 

"Hello, Tudor, " he said, with a familiarity that startled Sheldon. 

The Polynesian's hand went out, and Tudor, shaking it, was staring intohis face. 

"Who is it?" he asked. "I can't see you. "

"Utami. "

"And who the dickens is Utami? Where did I ever meet you, my man?"

"You no forget the _Huahine_?" Utami chided. "Last time _Huahine_ sail?"

Tudor gripped the Tahitian's hand a second time and shook it with genuineheartiness. 

"There was only one kanaka who came out of the _Huahine_ that lastvoyage, and that kanaka was Joe. The deuce take it, man, I'm glad to seeyou, though I never heard your new name before. "

"Yes, everybody speak me Joe along the _Huahine_. Utami my name all thetime, just the same. "

"But what are you doing here?" Tudor asked, releasing the sailor's handand leaning eagerly forward. 

"Me sail along Missie Lackalanna her schooner _Miele_. We go Tahiti, Raiatea, Tahaa, Bora-Bora, Manua, Tutuila, Apia, Savaii, and FijiIslands--plenty Fiji Islands. Me stop along Missie Lackalanna inSolomons. Very soon she catch other schooner. "

"He and I were the two survivors of the wreck of the _Huahine_, " Tudorexplained to the others. "Fifty-seven all told on board when we sailedfrom Huapa, and Joe and I were the only two that ever set foot on landagain. Hurricane, you know, in the Paumotus. That was when I was afterpearls. "

"And you never told me, Utami, that you'd been wrecked in a hurricane, "Joan said reproachfully. 

The big Tahitian shifted his weight and flashed his teeth in aconciliating smile. 

"Me no t'ink nothing 't all, " he said. 

He half-turned, as if to depart, by his manner indicating that heconsidered it time to go while yet he desired to remain. 

"All right, Utami, " Tudor said. "I'll see you in the morning and have ayarn. "

"He saved my life, the beggar, " Tudor explained, as the Tahitian strodeaway and with heavy softness of foot went down the steps. "Swim! Inever met a better swimmer. "

And thereat, solicited by Joan, Tudor narrated the wreck of the_Huahine_; while Sheldon smoked and pondered, and decided that whateverthe man's shortcomings were, he was at least not a liar. 

CHAPTER XV--A DISCOURSE ON MANNERS

The days passed, and Tudor seemed loath to leave the hospitality ofBerande. Everything was ready for the start, but he lingered on, spending much time in Joan's company and thereby increasing the dislikeSheldon had taken to him. He went swimming with her, in point ofrashness exceeding her; and dynamited fish with her, diving among thehungry ground-sharks and contesting with them for possession of thestunned prey, until he earned the approval of the whole Tahitian crew. Arahu challenged him to tear a fish from a shark's jaws, leaving half tothe shark and bringing the other half himself to the surface; and Tudorperformed the feat, a flip from the sandpaper hide of the astonishedshark scraping several inches of skin from his shoulder. And Joan wasdelighted, while Sheldon, looking on, realized that here was the hero ofher adventure-dreams coming true. She did not care for love, but he feltthat if ever she did love it would be that sort of a man--"a man whoexhibited, " was his way of putting it. 

He felt himself handicapped in the presence of Tudor, who had the gift ofmaking a show of all his qualities. Sheldon knew himself for a braveman, wherefore he made no advertisement of the fact. He knew that justas readily as the other would he dive among ground-sharks to save a life, but in that fact he could find no sanction for the foolhardy act ofdiving among sharks for the half of a fish. The difference between themwas that he kept the curtain of his shop window down. Life pulsedsteadily and deep in him, and it was not his nature needlessly to agitatethe surface so that the world could see the splash he was making. Andthe effect of the other's amazing exhibitions was to make him retreatmore deeply within himself and wrap himself more thickly than ever in thenerveless, stoical calm of his race. 

"You are so stupid the last few days, " Joan complained to him. "Onewould think you were sick, or bilious, or something. You don't seem tohave an idea in your head above black labour and cocoanuts. What is thematter?"

Sheldon smiled and beat a further retreat within himself, listening thewhile to Joan and Tudor propounding the theory of the strong arm by whichthe white man ordered life among the lesser breeds. As he listenedSheldon realized, as by revelation, that that was precisely what he wasdoing. While they philosophized about it he was living it, placing thestrong hand of his race firmly on the shoulders of the lesser breeds thatlaboured on Berande or menaced it from afar. But why talk about it? heasked himself. It was sufficient to do it and be done with it. 

He said as much, dryly and quietly, and found himself involved in adiscussion, with Joan and Tudor siding against him, in which a moreastounding charge than ever he had dreamed of was made against the veryEnglish control and reserve of which he was secretly proud. 

"The Yankees talk a lot about what they do and have done, " Tudor said, "and are looked down upon by the English as braggarts. But the Yankee isonly a child. He does not know effectually how to brag. He talks aboutit, you see. But the Englishman goes him one better by not talking aboutit. The Englishman's proverbial lack of bragging is a subtler form ofbrag after all. It is really clever, as you will agree. "

"I never thought of it before, " Joan cried. "Of course. An Englishmanperforms some terrifically heroic exploit, and is very modest andreserved--refuses to talk about it at all--and the effect is that by hissilence he as much as says, 'I do things like this every day. It is aseasy as rolling off a log. You ought to see the really heroic things Icould do if they ever came my way. But this little thing, this littleepisode--really, don't you know, I fail to see anything in it remarkableor unusual. ' As for me, if I went up in a powder explosion, or saved ahundred lives, I'd want all my friends to hear about it, and theirfriends as well. I'd be prouder than Lucifer over the affair. Confess, Mr. Sheldon, don't you feel proud down inside when you've done somethingdaring or courageous?"

Sheldon nodded. 

"Then, " she pressed home the point, "isn't disguising that pride under amask of careless indifference equivalent to telling a lie?"

"Yes, it is, " he admitted. "But we tell similar lies every day. It is amatter of training, and the English are better trained, that is all. Yourcountrymen will be trained as well in time. As Mr. Tudor said, theYankees are young. "

"Thank goodness we haven't begun to tell such lies yet!" was Joan'sejaculation. 

"Oh, but you have, " Sheldon said quickly. "You were telling me a lie ofthat order only the other day. You remember when you were going up thelantern-halyards hand over hand? Your face was the personification ofduplicity. "

"It was no such thing. "

"Pardon me a moment, " he went on. "Your face was as calm and peaceful asthough you were reclining in a steamer-chair. To look at your face onewould have inferred that carrying the weight of your body up a rope handover hand was a very commonplace accomplishment--as easy as rolling off alog. And you needn't tell me, Miss Lackland, that you didn't make facesthe first time you tried to climb a rope. But, like any circus athlete, you trained yourself out of the face-making period. You trained yourface to hide your feelings, to hide the exhausting effort your muscleswere making. It was, to quote Mr. Tudor, a subtler exhibition ofphysical prowess. And that is all our English reserve is--a mere matterof training. Certainly we are proud inside of the things we do and havedone, proud as Lucifer--yes, and prouder. But we have grown up, and nolonger talk about such things. "

"I surrender, " Joan cried. "You are not so stupid after all. "

"Yes, you have us there, " Tudor admitted. "But you wouldn't have had usif you hadn't broken your training rules. "

"How do you mean?"

"By talking about it. "

Joan clapped her hands in approval. Tudor lighted a fresh cigarette, while Sheldon sat on, imperturbably silent. 

"He got you there, " Joan challenged. "Why don't you crush him?"

"Really, I can't think of anything to say, " Sheldon said. "I know myposition is sound, and that is satisfactory enough. "

"You might retort, " she suggested, "that when an adult is withkindergarten children he must descend to kindergarten idioms in order tomake himself intelligible. That was why you broke training rules. Itwas the only way to make us children understand. "

"You've deserted in the heat of the battle, Miss Lackland, and gone overto the enemy, " Tudor said plaintively. 

But she was not listening. Instead, she was looking intently across thecompound and out to sea. They followed her gaze, and saw a green lightand the loom of a vessel's sails. 

"I wonder if it's the _Martha_ come back, " Tudor hazarded. 

"No, the sidelight is too low, " Joan answered. "Besides, they've got thesweeps out. Don't you hear them? They wouldn't be sweeping a big vessellike the _Martha_. "

"Besides, the _Martha_ has a gasoline engine--twenty-five horse-power, "Tudor added. 

"Just the sort of a craft for us, " Joan said wistfully to Sheldon. "Ireally must see if I can't get a schooner with an engine. I might get asecond-hand engine put in. "

"That would mean the additional expense of an engineer's wages, " heobjected. 

"But it would pay for itself by quicker passages, " she argued; "and itwould be as good as insurance. I know. I've knocked about amongst reefsmyself. Besides, if you weren't so mediaeval, I could be skipper andsave more than the engineer's wages. "

He did not reply to her thrust, and she glanced at him. He was lookingout over the water, and in the lantern light she noted the lines of hisface--strong, stern, dogged, the mouth almost chaste but firmer andthinner-lipped than Tudor's. For the first time she realized the qualityof his strength, the calm and quiet of it, its simple integrity andreposeful determination. She glanced quickly at Tudor on the other sideof her. It was a handsomer face, one that was more immediately pleasing. But she did not like the mouth. It was made for kissing, and sheabhorred kisses. This was not a deliberately achieved concept; it cameto her in the form of a faint and vaguely intangible repulsion. For themoment she knew a fleeting doubt of the man. Perhaps Sheldon was rightin his judgment of the other. She did not know, and it concerned herlittle; for boats, and the sea, and the things and happenings of the seawere of far more vital interest to her than men, and the next moment shewas staring through the warm tropic darkness at the loom of the sails andthe steady green of the moving sidelight, and listening eagerly to theclick of the sweeps in the rowlocks. In her mind's eye she could see thestraining naked forms of black men bending rhythmically to the work, andsomewhere on that strange deck she knew was the inevitable master-man, conning the vessel in to its anchorage, peering at the dim tree-line ofthe shore, judging the deceitful night-distances, feeling on his cheekthe first fans of the land breeze that was even then beginning to blow, weighing, thinking, measuring, gauging the score or more of ever-shiftingforces, through which, by which, and in spite of which he directed thesteady equilibrium of his course. She knew it because she loved it, andshe was alive to it as only a sailor could be. 

Twice she heard the splash of the lead, and listened intently for the crythat followed. Once a man's voice spoke, low, imperative, issuing anorder, and she thrilled with the delight of it. It was only a directionto the man at the wheel to port his helm. She watched the slightaltering of the course, and knew that it was for the purpose of enablingthe flat-hauled sails to catch those first fans of the land breeze, andshe waited for the same low voice to utter the one word "Steady!" Andagain she thrilled when it did utter it. Once more the lead splashed, and "Eleven fadom" was the resulting cry. "Let go!" the low voice cameto her through the darkness, followed by the surging rumble of the anchor-chain. The clicking of the sheaves in the blocks as the sails ran down, head-sails first, was music to her; and she detected on the instant thejamming of a jib-downhaul, and almost saw the impatient jerk with whichthe sailor must have cleared it. Nor did she take interest in the twomen beside her till both lights, red and green, came into view as theanchor checked the onward way. 

Sheldon was wondering as to the identity of the craft, while Tudorpersisted in believing it might be the _Martha_. 

"It's the _Minerva_, " Joan said decidedly. 

"How do you know?" Sheldon asked, sceptical of her certitude. 

"It's a ketch to begin with. And besides, I could tell anywhere therattle of her main peak-blocks--they're too large for the halyard. "

A dark figure crossed the compound diagonally from the beach gate, wherewhoever it was had been watching the vessel. 

"Is that you, Utami?" Joan called. 

"No, Missie; me Matapuu, " was the answer. 

"What vessel is it?"

"Me t'ink _Minerva_. "

Joan looked triumphantly at Sheldon, who bowed. 

"If Matapuu says so it must be so, " he murmured. 

"But when Joan Lackland says so, you doubt, " she cried, "just as youdoubt her ability as a skipper. But never mind, you'll be sorry some dayfor all your unkindness. There's the boat lowering now, and in fiveminutes we'll be shaking hands with Christian Young. "

Lalaperu brought out the glasses and cigarettes and the eternal whiskyand soda, and before the five minutes were past the gate clicked andChristian Young, tawny and golden, gentle of voice and look and hand, came up the bungalow steps and joined them. 

CHAPTER XVI--THE GIRL WHO HAD NOT GROWN UP

News, as usual, Christian Young brought--news of the drinking at Guvutu, where the men boasted that they drank between drinks; news of the newrifles adrift on Ysabel, of the latest murders on Malaita, of TomButler's sickness on Santa Ana; and last and most important, news thatthe _Matambo_ had gone on a reef in the Shortlands and would be laid offone run for repairs. 

"That means five weeks more before you can sail for Sydney, " Sheldon saidto Joan. 

"And that we are losing precious time, " she added ruefully. 

"If you want to go to Sydney, the _Upolu_ sails from Tulagi to-morrowafternoon, " Young said. 

"But I thought she was running recruits for the Germans in Samoa, " sheobjected. "At any rate, I could catch her to Samoa, and change at Apiato one of the Weir Line freighters. It's a long way around, but still itwould save time. "

"This time the _Upolu_ is going straight to Sydney, " Young explained. "She's going to dry-dock, you see; and you can catch her as late as fiveto-morrow afternoon--at least, so her first officer told me. "

"But I've got to go to Guvutu first. " Joan looked at the men with awhimsical expression. "I've some shopping to do. I can't wear theseBerande curtains into Sydney. I must buy cloth at Guvutu and make myselfa dress during the voyage down. I'll start immediately--in an hour. Lalaperu, you bring 'm one fella Adamu Adam along me. Tell 'm that fellaOrnfiri make 'm _kai-kai_ take along whale-boat. " She rose to her feet, looking at Sheldon. "And you, please, have the boys carry down the whale-boat--my boat, you know. I'll be off in an hour. "

Both Sheldon and Tudor looked at their watches. 

"It's an all-night row, " Sheldon said. "You might wait till morning--"

"And miss my shopping? No, thank you. Besides, the _Upolu_ is not aregular passenger steamer, and she is just as liable to sail ahead oftime as on time. And from what I hear about those Guvutu sybarites, thebest time to shop will be in the morning. And now you'll have to excuseme, for I've got to pack. "

"I'll go over with you, " Sheldon announced. 

"Let me run you over in the _Minerva_, " said Young. 

She shook her head laughingly. 

"I'm going in the whale-boat. One would think, from all your solicitude, that I'd never been away from home before. You, Mr. Sheldon, as mypartner, I cannot permit to desert Berande and your work out of amistaken notion of courtesy. If you won't permit me to be skipper, Iwon't permit your galivanting over the sea as protector of young womenwho don't need protection. And as for you, Captain Young, you know verywell that you just left Guvutu this morning, that you are bound forMarau, and that you said yourself that in two hours you are getting underway again. "

"But may I not see you safely across?" Tudor asked, a pleading note inhis voice that rasped on Sheldon's nerves. 

"No, no, and again no, " she cried. "You've all got your work to do, andso have I. I came to the Solomons to work, not to be escorted about likea doll. For that matter, here's my escort, and there are seven more likehim. "

Adamu Adam stood beside her, towering above her, as he towered above thethree white men. The clinging cotton undershirt he wore could not hidethe bulge of his tremendous muscles. 

"Look at his fist, " said Tudor. "I'd hate to receive a punch from it. "

"I don't blame you. " Joan laughed reminiscently. "I saw him hit thecaptain of a Swedish bark on the beach at Levuka, in the Fijis. It wasthe captain's fault. I saw it all myself, and it was splendid. Adamuonly hit him once, and he broke the man's arm. You remember, Adamu?"

The big Tahitian smiled and nodded, his black eyes, soft and deer-like, seeming to give the lie to so belligerent a nature. 

"We start in an hour in the whale-boat for Guvutu, big brother, " Joansaid to him. "Tell your brothers, all of them, so that they can getready. We catch the _Upolu_ for Sydney. You will all come along, andsail back to the Solomons in the new schooner. Take your extra shirtsand dungarees along. Plenty cold weather down there. Now run along, andtell them to hurry. Leave the guns behind. Turn them over to Mr. Sheldon. We won't need them. "

"If you are really bent upon going--" Sheldon began. 

"That's settled long ago, " she answered shortly. "I'm going to pack now. But I'll tell you what you can do for me--issue some tobacco and otherstuff they want to my men. "

An hour later the three men had shaken hands with Joan down on the beach. She gave the signal, and the boat shoved off, six men at the oars, theseventh man for'ard, and Adamu Adam at the steering-sweep. Joan wasstanding up in the stern-sheets, reiterating her good-byes--a slim figureof a woman in the tight-fitting jacket she had worn ashore from thewreck, the long-barrelled Colt's revolver hanging from the loose beltaround her waist, her clear-cut face like a boy's under the Stetson hatthat failed to conceal the heavy masses of hair beneath. 

"You'd better get into shelter, " she called to them. "There's a bigsquall coming. And I hope you've got plenty of chain out, Captain Young. Good-bye! Good-bye, everybody!"

Her last words came out of the darkness, which wrapped itself solidlyabout the boat. Yet they continued to stare into the blackness in thedirection in which the boat had disappeared, listening to the steadyclick of the oars in the rowlocks until it faded away and ceased. 

"She is only a girl, " Christian Young said with slow solemnity. Thediscovery seemed to have been made on the spur of the moment. "She isonly a girl, " he repeated with greater solemnity. 

"A dashed pretty one, and a good traveller, " Tudor laughed. "Shecertainly has spunk, eh, Sheldon?"

"Yes, she is brave, " was the reluctant answer for Sheldon did not feeldisposed to talk about her. 

"That's the American of it, " Tudor went on. "Push, and go, and energy, and independence. What do you think, skipper?"

"I think she is young, very young, only a girl, " replied the captain ofthe _Minerva_, continuing to stare into the blackness that hid the sea. 

The blackness seemed suddenly to increase in density, and they stumbledup the beach, feeling their way to the gate. 

"Watch out for nuts, " Sheldon warned, as the first blast of the squallshrieked through the palms. They joined hands and staggered up the path, with the ripe cocoanuts thudding in a monstrous rain all around them. They gained the veranda, where they sat in silence over their whisky, each man staring straight out to sea, where the wildly swinging riding-light of the _Minerva_ could be seen in the lulls of the driving rain. 

Somewhere out there, Sheldon reflected, was Joan Lackland, the girl whohad not grown up, the woman good to look upon, with only a boy's mind anda boy's desires, leaving Berande amid storm and conflict in much the samemanner that she had first arrived, in the stern-sheets of her whale-boat, Adamu Adam steering, her savage crew bending to the oars. And she wastaking her Stetson hat with her, along with the cartridge-belt and thelong-barrelled revolver. He suddenly discovered an immense affection forthose fripperies of hers at which he had secretly laughed when first hesaw them. He became aware of the sentimental direction in which hisfancy was leading him, and felt inclined to laugh. But he did not laugh. The next moment he was busy visioning the hat, and belt, and revolver. Undoubtedly this was love, he thought, and he felt a tiny glow of pridein him in that the Solomons had not succeeded in killing all hissentiment. 

An hour later, Christian Young stood up, knocked out his pipe, andprepared to go aboard and get under way. 

"She's all right, " he said, apropos of nothing spoken, and yet distinctlyrelevant to what was in each of their minds. "She's got a good boat's-crew, and she's a sailor herself. Good-night, Mr. Sheldon. Anything Ican do for you down Marau-way?" He turned and pointed to a wideningspace of starry sky. "It's going to be a fine night after all. Withthis favouring bit of breeze she has sail on already, and she'll makeGuvutu by daylight. Good-night. "

"I guess I'll turn in, old man, " Tudor said, rising and placing his glasson the table. "I'll start the first thing in the morning. It's beendisgraceful the way I've been hanging on here. Good-night. "

Sheldon, sitting on alone, wondered if the other man would have decidedto pull out in the morning had Joan not sailed away. Well, there was onebit of consolation in it: Joan had certainly lingered at Berande for noman, not even Tudor. "I start in an hour"--her words rang in his brain, and under his eyelids he could see her as she stood up and uttered them. He smiled. The instant she heard the news she had made up her mind togo. It was not very flattering to man, but what could any man count inher eyes when a schooner waiting to be bought in Sydney was in the wind?What a creature! What a creature!

* * * * *

Berande was a lonely place to Sheldon in the days that followed. In themorning after Joan's departure, he had seen Tudor's expedition off on itsway up the Balesuna; in the late afternoon, through his telescope, he hadseen the smoke of the _Upolu_ that was bearing Joan away to Sydney; andin the evening he sat down to dinner in solitary state, devoting more ofhis time to looking at her empty chair than to his food. He never cameout on the veranda without glancing first of all at her grass house inthe corner of the compound; and one evening, idly knocking the ballsabout on the billiard table, he came to himself to find himself standingstaring at the nail upon which from the first she had hung her Stetsonhat and her revolver-belt. 

Why should he care for her? he demanded of himself angrily. She wascertainly the last woman in the world he would have thought of choosingfor himself. Never had he encountered one who had so thoroughlyirritated him, rasped his feelings, smashed his conventions, and violatednearly every attribute of what had been his ideal of woman. Had he beentoo long away from the world? Had he forgotten what the race of womenwas like? Was it merely a case of propinquity? And she wasn't really awoman. She was a masquerader. Under all her seeming of woman, she was aboy, playing a boy's pranks, diving for fish amongst sharks, sporting arevolver, longing for adventure, and, what was more, going out in searchof it in her whale-boat, along with her savage islanders and her bag ofsovereigns. But he loved her--that was the point of it all, and he didnot try to evade it. He was not sorry that it was so. He loved her--thatwas the overwhelming, astounding fact. 

Once again he discovered a big enthusiasm for Berande. All the bubble-illusions concerning the life of the tropical planter had been pricked bythe stern facts of the Solomons. Following the death of Hughie, he hadresolved to muddle along somehow with the plantation; but this resolvehad not been based upon desire. Instead, it was based upon the inherentstubbornness of his nature and his dislike to give over an attemptedtask. 

But now it was different. Berande meant everything. It must succeed--notmerely because Joan was a partner in it, but because he wanted to makethat partnership permanently binding. Three more years and theplantation would be a splendid-paying investment. They could then takeyearly trips to Australia, and oftener; and an occasional run home toEngland--or Hawaii, would come as a matter of course. 

He spent his evenings poring over accounts, or making endlesscalculations based on cheaper freights for copra and on the possiblemaximum and minimum market prices for that staple of commerce. His dayswere spent out on the plantation. He undertook more clearing of bush;and clearing and planting went on, under his personal supervision, at afaster pace than ever before. He experimented with premiums for extrawork performed by the black boys, and yearned continually for more ofthem to put to work. Not until Joan could return on the schooner wouldthis be possible, for the professional recruiters were all under longcontracts to the Fulcrum Brothers, Morgan and Raff, and the Fires, PhilpCompany; while the _Flibberty-Gibbet_ was wholly occupied in runningabout among his widely scattered trading stations, which extended fromthe coast of New Georgia in one direction to Ulava and Sikiana in theother. Blacks he must have, and, if Joan were fortunate in getting aschooner, three months at least must elapse before the first recruitscould be landed on Berande. 

A week after the _Upolu's_ departure, the _Malakula_ dropped anchor andher skipper came ashore for a game of billiards and to gossip until theland breeze sprang up. Besides, as he told his super-cargo, he simplyhad to come ashore, not merely to deliver the large package of seeds withfull instructions for planting from Joan, but to shock Sheldon with thelittle surprise born of information he was bringing with him. 

Captain Auckland played the billiards first, and it was not until he wascomfortably seated in a steamer-chair, his second whisky securely in hishand, that he let off his bomb. 

"A great piece, that Miss Lackland of yours, " he chuckled. "Claims to bea part-owner of Berande. Says she's your partner. Is that straight?"

Sheldon nodded coldly. 

"You don't say? That is a surprise! Well, she hasn't convinced Guvutuor Tulagi of it. They're pretty used to irregular things over there, but--ha! ha!--" he stopped to have his laugh out and to mop his bald headwith a trade handkerchief. "But that partnership yarn of hers was toobig to swallow, though it gave them the excuse for a few more drinks. "

"There is nothing irregular about it. It is an ordinary businesstransaction. " Sheldon strove to act as though such transactions werequite the commonplace thing on plantations in the Solomons. "Sheinvested something like fifteen hundred pounds in Berande--"

"So she said. "

"And she has gone to Sydney on business for the plantation. "

"Oh, no, she hasn't. "

"I beg pardon?" Sheldon queried. 

"I said she hasn't, that's all. "

"But didn't the _Upolu_ sail? I could have sworn I saw her smoke lastTuesday afternoon, late, as she passed Savo. "

"The _Upolu_ sailed all right. " Captain Auckland sipped his whisky withprovoking slowness. "Only Miss Lackland wasn't a passenger. "

"Then where is she?"

"At Guvutu, last I saw of her. She was going to Sydney to buy aschooner, wasn't she?"

"Yes, yes. "

"That's what she said. Well, she's bought one, though I wouldn't giveher ten shillings for it if a nor'wester blows up, and it's about time wehad one. This has been too long a spell of good weather to last. "

"If you came here to excite my curiosity, old man, " Sheldon said, "you'vecertainly succeeded. Now go ahead and tell me in a straightforward waywhat has happened. What schooner? Where is it? How did she happen tobuy it?"

"First, the schooner _Martha_, " the skipper answered, checking hisreplies off on his fingers. "Second, the _Martha_ is on the outside reefat Poonga-Poonga, looted clean of everything portable, and ready to go topieces with the first bit of lively sea. And third, Miss Lackland boughther at auction. She was knocked down to her for fifty-five quid by thethird-assistant-resident-commissioner. I ought to know. I bid fiftymyself, for Morgan and Raff. My word, weren't they hot! I told them togo to the devil, and that it was their fault for limiting me to fiftyquid when they thought the chance to salve the _Martha_ was worth more. You see, they weren't expecting competition. Fulcrum Brothers had norepresentative present, neither had Fires, Philp Company, and the onlyman to be afraid of was Nielsen's agent, Squires, and him they got drunkand sound asleep over in Guvutu. 

"'Twenty, ' says I, for my bid. 'Twenty-five, ' says the little girl. 'Thirty, ' says I. 'Forty, ' says she. 'Fifty, ' says I. 'Fifty-five, 'says she. And there I was stuck. 'Hold on, ' says I; 'wait till I see myowners. ' 'No, you don't, ' says she. 'It's customary, ' says I. 'Notanywhere in the world, ' says she. 'Then it's courtesy in the Solomons, 'says I. 

"And d'ye know, on my faith I think Burnett'd have done it, only shepipes up, sweet and pert as you please: 'Mr. Auctioneer, will you kindlyproceed with the sale in the customary manner? I've other business toattend to, and I can't afford to wait all night on men who don't knowtheir own minds. ' And then she smiles at Burnett, as well--you know, oneof those fetching smiles, and damme if Burnett doesn't begin singing out:'Goin', goin', goin'--last bid--goin', goin' for fifty-fivesovereigns--goin', goin', gone--to you, Miss--er--what name, please?'

"'Joan Lackland, ' says she, with a smile to me; and that's how she boughtthe _Martha_. "

Sheldon experienced a sudden thrill. The _Martha_!--a finer schoonerthan the _Malakula_, and, for that matter, the finest in the Solomons. She was just the thing for recruits, and she was right on the spot. Thenhe realized that for such a craft to sell at auction for fifty-fivepounds meant that there was small chance for saving her. 

"But how did it happen?" he asked. "Weren't they rather quick in sellingthe _Martha_?"

"Had to. You know the reef at Poonga-Poonga. She's not worth tuppenceon it if any kind of a sea kicks up, and it's ripe for a nor'wester anymoment now. The crowd abandoned her completely. Didn't even dream ofauctioning her. Morgan and Raff persuaded them to put her up. They're aco-operative crowd, you know, an organized business corporation, fore andaft, all hands and the cook. They held a meeting and voted to sell. "

"But why didn't they stand by and try to save her?"

"Stand by! You know Malaita. And you know Poonga-Poonga. That's wherethey cut off the _Scottish Chiefs_ and killed all hands. There wasnothing to do but take to the boats. The _Martha_ missed stays going in, and inside five minutes she was on the reef and in possession. Theniggers swarmed over her, and they just threw the crew into the boats. Italked with some of the men. They swear there were two hundred warcanoes around her inside half an hour, and five thousand bushmen on thebeach. Said you couldn't see Malaita for the smoke of the signal fires. Anyway, they cleared out for Tulagi. "

"But why didn't they fight?" Sheldon asked. 

"It was funny they didn't, but they got separated. You see, two-thirdsof them were in the boats, without weapons, running anchors and neverdreaming the natives would attack. They found out their mistake toolate. The natives had charge. That's the trouble of new chums on thecoast. It would never have happened with you or me or any old-timer. "

"But what is Miss Lackland intending to do?" Captain Auckland grinned. 

"She's going to try to get the _Martha_ off, I should say. Or else whydid she pay fifty-five quid for her? And if she fails, she'll try to gether money back by saving the gear--spars, you know, and patent steering-gear, and winches, and such things. At least that's what I'd do if I wasin her place. When I sailed, the little girl had chartered the_Emily_--'I'm going recruiting, ' says Munster--he's the skipper and ownernow. 'And how much will you net on the cruise?' asks she. 'Oh, fiftyquid, ' says he. 'Good, ' says she; 'you bring your _Emily_ along with meand you'll get seventy-five. ' You know that big ship's anchor and chainpiled up behind the coal-sheds? She was just buying that when I left. She's certainly a hustler, that little girl of yours. "

"She is my partner, " Sheldon corrected. 

"Well, she's a good one, that's all, and a cool one. My word! a whitewoman on Malaita, and at Poonga-Poonga of all places! Oh, I forgot totell you--she palavered Burnett into lending her eight rifles for hermen, and three cases of dynamite. You'd laugh to see the way she makesthat Guvutu gang stand around. And to see them being polite and tryingto give advice! Lord, Lord, man, that little girl's a wonder, a marvel, a--a--a catastrophe. That's what she is, a catastrophe. She's gonethrough Guvutu and Tulagi like a hurricane; every last swine of them inlove with her--except Raff. He's sore over the auction, and he spranghis recruiting contract with Munster on her. And what does she do butthank him, and read it over, and point out that while Munster was pledgedto deliver all recruits to Morgan and Raff, there was no clause in thedocument forbidding him from chartering the _Emily_. 

"'There's your contract, ' says she, passing it back. 'And a very goodcontract it is. The next time you draw one up, insert a clause that willfit emergencies like the present one. ' And, Lord, Lord, she had him, too. 

"But there's the breeze, and I'm off. Good-bye, old man. Hope thelittle girl succeeds. The _Martha's_ a whacking fine boat, and she'dtake the place of the _Jessie_. "

CHAPTER XVII--"YOUR" MISS LACKLAND

The next morning Sheldon came in from the plantation to breakfast, tofind the mission ketch, _Apostle_, at anchor, her crew swimming two maresand a filly ashore. Sheldon recognized the animals as belonging to theResident Commissioner, and he immediately wondered if Joan had boughtthem. She was certainly living up to her threat of rattling the drybones of the Solomons, and he was prepared for anything. 

"Miss Lackland sent them, " said Welshmere, the missionary doctor, stepping ashore and shaking hands with him. "There's also a box ofsaddles on board. And this letter from her. And the skipper of the_Flibberty-Gibbet_. "

The next moment, and before he could greet him, Oleson stepped from theboat and began. 

"She's stolen the _Flibberty_, Mr. Sheldon. Run clean away with her. She's a wild one. She gave me the fever. Brought it on by shock. Andgot me drunk, as well--rotten drunk. "

Dr. Welshmere laughed heartily. 

"Nevertheless, she is not an unmitigated evil, your Miss Lackland. She'ssworn three men off their drink, or, to the same purpose, shut off theirwhisky. You know them--Brahms, Curtis, and Fowler. She shipped them onthe _Flibberty-Gibbet_ along with her. "

"She's the skipper of the _Flibberty_ now, " Oleson broke in. "And she'llwreck her as sure as God didn't make the Solomons. "

Dr. Welshmere tried to look shocked, but laughed again. 

"She has quite a way with her, " he said. "I tried to back out ofbringing the horses over. Said I couldn't charge freight, that the_Apostle_ was under a yacht license, that I was going around by Savo andthe upper end of Guadalcanar. But it was no use. 'Bother the charge, 'said she. 'You take the horses like a good man, and when I float the_Martha_ I'll return the service some day. '"

"And 'bother your orders, ' said she to me, " Oleson cried. "'I'm yourboss now, ' said she, 'and you take your orders from me. ' 'Look at thatload of ivory nuts, ' I said. 'Bother them, ' said she; 'I'm playin' forsomething bigger than ivory nuts. We'll dump them overside as soon as weget under way. '"

Sheldon put his hands to his ears. 

"I don't know what has happened, and you are trying to tell me the talebackwards. Come up to the house and get in the shade and begin at thebeginning. "

"What I want to know, " Oleson began, when they were seated, "is _is_ sheyour partner or ain't she? That's what I want to know. "

"She is, " Sheldon assured him. 

"Well, who'd have believed it!" Oleson glanced appealingly at Dr. Welshmere, and back again at Sheldon. "I've seen a few unlikely thingsin these Solomons--rats two feet long, butterflies the Commissioner huntswith a shot-gun, ear-ornaments that would shame the devil, andhead-hunting devils that make the devil look like an angel. I've seenthem and got used to them, but this young woman of yours--"

"Miss Lackland is my partner and part-owner of Berande, " Sheldoninterrupted. 

"So she said, " the irate skipper dashed on. "But she had no papers toshow for it. How was I to know? And then there was that load of ivorynuts-eight tons of them. "

"For heaven's sake begin at the--" Sheldon tried to interrupt. 

"And then she's hired them drunken loafers, three of the worst scoundrelsthat ever disgraced the Solomons--fifteen quid a month each--what d'yethink of that? And sailed away with them, too! Phew!--You might give mea drink. The missionary won't mind. I've been on his teetotal hookerfour days now, and I'm perishing. "

Dr. Welshmere nodded in reply to Sheldon's look of inquiry, and Viaburiwas dispatched for the whisky and siphons. 

"It is evident, Captain Oleson, " Sheldon remarked to that refreshedmariner, "that Miss Lackland has run away with your boat. Now pleasegive a plain statement of what occurred. "

"Right O; here goes. I'd just come in on the _Flibberty_. She was onboard before I dropped the hook--in that whale-boat of hers with her gangof Tahiti heathens--that big Adamu Adam and the rest. 'Don't drop theanchor, Captain Oleson, ' she sang out. 'I want you to get under way forPoonga-Poonga. ' I looked to see if she'd been drinking. What was I tothink? I was rounding up at the time, alongside the shoal--a ticklishplace--head-sails running down and losing way, so I says, 'Excuse me, Miss Lackland, ' and yells for'ard, 'Let go!'

"'You might have listened to me and saved yourself trouble, ' says she, climbing over the rail and squinting along for'ard and seeing the firstshackle flip out and stop. 'There's fifteen fathom, ' says she; 'you mayas well turn your men to and heave up. '

"And then we had it out. I didn't believe her. I didn't think you'dtake her on as a partner, and I told her as much and wanted proof. Shegot high and mighty, and I told her I was old enough to be hergrandfather and that I wouldn't take gammon from a chit like her. Andthen I ordered her off the _Flibberty_. 'Captain Oleson, ' she says, sweet as you please, 'I've a few minutes to spare on you, and I've gotsome good whisky over on the _Emily_. Come on along. Besides, I wantyour advice about this wrecking business. Everybody says you're acrackerjack sailor-man'--that's what she said, 'crackerjack. ' And Iwent, in her whale-boat, Adamu Adam steering and looking as solemn as afuneral. 

"On the way she told me about the _Martha_, and how she'd bought her, andwas going to float her. She said she'd chartered the _Emily_, and wassailing as soon as I could get the _Flibberty_ underway. It struck methat her gammon was reasonable enough, and I agreed to pull out forBerande right O, and get your orders to go along to Poonga-Poonga. Butshe said there wasn't a second to be lost by any such foolishness, andthat I was to sail direct for Poonga-Poonga, and that if I couldn't takeher word that she was your partner, she'd get along without me and the_Flibberty_. And right there's where she fooled me. 

"Down in the _Emily's_ cabin was them three soaks--you know them--Fowlerand Curtis and that Brahms chap. 'Have a drink, ' says she. I thoughtthey looked surprised when she unlocked the whisky locker and sent anigger for the glasses and water-monkey. But she must have tipped themoff unbeknownst to me, and they knew just what to do. 'Excuse me, ' shesays, 'I'm going on deck a minute. ' Now that minute was half an hour. Ihadn't had a drink in ten days. I'm an old man and the fever hasweakened me. Then I took it on an empty stomach, too, and there was themthree soaks setting me an example, they arguing for me to take the_Flibberty_ to Poonga-Poonga, an' me pointing out my duty to thecontrary. The trouble was, all the arguments were pointed with drinks, and me not being a drinking man, so to say, and weak from fever . . . 

"Well, anyway, at the end of the half-hour down she came again and took agood squint at me. 'That'll do nicely, ' I remember her saying; and withthat she took the whisky bottles and hove them overside through thecompanionway. 'That's the last, she said to the three soaks, 'till the_Martha_ floats and you're back in Guvutu. It'll be a long time betweendrinks. ' And then she laughed. 

"She looked at me and said--not to me, mind you, but to the soaks: 'It'stime this worthy man went ashore'--me! worthy man! 'Fowler, ' shesaid--you know, just like a straight order, and she didn't _mister_him--it was plain Fowler--'Fowler, ' she said, 'just tell Adamu Adam toman the whale-boat, and while he's taking Captain Oleson ashore have yourboat put me on the _Flibberty_. The three of you sail with me, so packyour dunnage. And the one of you that shows up best will take the mate'sbillet. Captain Oleson doesn't carry a mate, you know. '

"I don't remember much after that. All hands got me over the side, andit seems to me I went to sleep, sitting in the stern-sheets and watchingthat Adamu steer. Then I saw the _Flibberty's_ mainsail hoisting, andheard the clank of her chain coming in, and I woke up. 'Here, put me onthe _Flibberty_, ' I said to Adamu. 'I put you on the beach, ' said he. 'Missie Lackalanna say beach plenty good for you. ' Well, I let out ayell and reached for the steering-sweep. I was doing my best by myowners, you see. Only that Adamu gives me a shove down on the bottom-boards, puts one foot on me to hold me down, and goes on steering. Andthat's all. The shock of the whole thing brought on fever. And now I'vecome to find out whether I'm skipper of the _Flibberty_, or that chit ofyours with her pirating, heathen boat's-crew. "

"Never mind, skipper. You can take a vacation on pay. " Sheldon spokewith more assurance than he felt. "If Miss Lackland, who is my partner, has seen fit to take charge of the _Flibberty-Gibbet_, why, it is allright. As you will agree, there was no time to be lost if the _Martha_was to be got off. It is a bad reef, and any considerable sea wouldknock her bottom out. You settle down here, skipper, and rest up and getthe fever out of your bones. When the _Flibberty-Gibbet_ comes back, you'll take charge again, of course. "

After Dr. Welshmere and the _Apostle_ departed and Captain Oleson hadturned in for a sleep in a veranda hammock, Sheldon opened Joan's letter. 

 DEAR MR. SHELDON, --Please forgive me for stealing the _Flibberty-Gibbet_. I simply had to. The _Martha_ means everything to us. Think of it, only fifty-five pounds for her, two hundred and seventy-five dollars. If I don't save her, I know I shall be able to pay all expenses out of her gear, which the natives will not have carried off. And if I do save her, it is the haul of a life-time. And if I don't save her, I'll fill the _Emily_ and the _Flibberty-Gibbet_ with recruits. Recruits are needed right now on Berande more than anything else. 

 And please, please don't be angry with me. You said I shouldn't go recruiting on the _Flibberty_, and I won't. I'll go on the _Emily_. 

 I bought two cows this afternoon. That trader at Nogi died of fever, and I bought them from his partner, Sam Willis his name is, who agrees to deliver them--most likely by the _Minerva_ next time she is down that way. Berande has been long enough on tinned milk. 

 And Dr. Welshmere has agreed to get me some orange and lime trees from the mission station at Ulava. He will deliver them the next trip of the _Apostle_. If the Sydney steamer arrives before I get back, plant the sweet corn she will bring between the young trees on the high bank of the Balesuna. The current is eating in against that bank, and you should do something to save it. 

 I have ordered some fig-trees and loquats, too, from Sydney. Dr. Welshmere will bring some mango-seeds. They are big trees and require plenty of room. 

 The _Martha_ is registered 110 tons. She is the biggest schooner in the Solomons, and the best. I saw a little of her lines and guess the rest. She will sail like a witch. If she hasn't filled with water, her engine will be all right. The reason she went ashore was because it was not working. The engineer had disconnected the feed-pipes to clean out the rust. Poor business, unless at anchor or with plenty of sea room. 

 Plant all the trees in the compound, even if you have to clean out the palms later on. 

 And don't plant the sweet corn all at once. Let a few days elapse between plantings. 

 JOAN LACKLAND. 

He fingered the letter, lingering over it and scrutinizing the writing ina way that was not his wont. How characteristic, was his thought, as hestudied the boyish scrawl--clear to read, painfully, clear, but none theless boyish. The clearness of it reminded him of her face, of hercleanly stencilled brows, her straightly chiselled nose, the veryclearness of the gaze of her eyes, the firmly yet delicately mouldedlips, and the throat, neither fragile nor robust, but--but just right, heconcluded, an adequate and beautiful pillar for so shapely a burden. 

He looked long at the name. Joan Lackland--just an assemblage ofletters, of commonplace letters, but an assemblage that generated asubtle and heady magic. It crept into his brain and twined and twistedhis mental processes until all that constituted him at that moment wentout in love to that scrawled signature. A few commonplace letters--yetthey caused him to know in himself a lack that sweetly hurt and thatexpressed itself in vague spiritual outpourings and delicious yearnings. Joan Lackland! Each time he looked at it there arose visions of her in amyriad moods and guises--coming in out of the flying smother of the galethat had wrecked her schooner; launching a whale-boat to go a-fishing;running dripping from the sea, with streaming hair and clinging garments, to the fresh-water shower; frightening four-score cannibals with an emptychlorodyne bottle; teaching Ornfiri how to make bread; hanging herStetson hat and revolver-belt on the hook in the living-room; talkinggravely about winning to hearth and saddle of her own, or juvenilelyrattling on about romance and adventure, bright-eyed, her face flushedand eager with enthusiasm. Joan Lackland! He mused over the crypticwonder of it till the secrets of love were made clear and he felt a keensympathy for lovers who carved their names on trees or wrote them on thebeach-sands of the sea. 

Then he came back to reality, and his face hardened. Even then she wason the wild coast of Malaita, and at Poonga-Poonga, of all villainous anddangerous portions the worst, peopled with a teeming population of head-hunters, robbers, and murderers. For the instant he entertained the rashthought of calling his boat's-crew and starting immediately in a whale-boat for Poonga-Poonga. But the next instant the idea was dismissed. What could he do if he did go? First, she would resent it. Next, shewould laugh at him and call him a silly; and after all he would count foronly one rifle more, and she had many rifles with her. Three things onlycould he do if he went. He could command her to return; he could takethe _Flibberty-Gibbet_ away from her; he could dissolve theirpartnership;--any and all of which he knew would be foolish and futile, and he could hear her explain in terse set terms that she was legally ofage and that nobody could say come or go to her. No, his pride wouldnever permit him to start for Poonga-Poonga, though his heart whisperedthat nothing could be more welcome than a message from her asking him tocome and lend a hand. Her very words--"lend a hand"; and in his fancy, he could see and hear her saying them. 

There was much in her wilful conduct that caused him to wince in theheart of him. He was appalled by the thought of her shoulder to shoulderwith the drunken rabble of traders and beachcombers at Guvutu. It wasbad enough for a clean, fastidious man; but for a young woman, a girl atthat, it was awful. The theft of the _Flibberty-Gibbet_ was merelyamusing, though the means by which the theft had been effected gave himhurt. Yet he found consolation in the fact that the task of makingOleson drunk had been turned over to the three scoundrels. And next, andswiftly, came the vision of her, alone with those same three scoundrels, on the _Emily_, sailing out to sea from Guvutu in the twilight withdarkness coming on. Then came visions of Adamu Adam and Noa Noah and allher brawny Tahitian following, and his anxiety faded away, being replacedby irritation that she should have been capable of such wildness ofconduct. 

And the irritation was still on him as he got up and went inside to stareat the hook on the wall and to wish that her Stetson hat and revolver-belt were hanging from it. 

CHAPTER XVIII--MAKING THE BOOKS COME TRUE

Several quiet weeks slipped by. Berande, after such an unusual run ofvisiting vessels, drifted back into her old solitude. Sheldon went onwith the daily round, clearing bush, planting cocoanuts, smoking copra, building bridges, and riding about his work on the horses Joan hadbought. News of her he had none. Recruiting vessels on Malaita left thePoonga-Poonga coast severely alone; and the _Clansman_, a Samoanrecruiter, dropping anchor one sunset for billiards and gossip, reportedrumours amongst the Sio natives that there had been fighting at Poonga-Poonga. As this news would have had to travel right across the bigisland, little dependence was to be placed on it. 

The steamer from Sydney, the _Kammambo_, broke the quietude of Berandefor an hour, while landing mail, supplies, and the trees and seeds Joanhad ordered. The _Minerva_, bound for Cape Marsh, brought the two cowsfrom Nogi. And the _Apostle_, hurrying back to Tulagi to connect withthe Sydney steamer, sent a boat ashore with the orange and lime treesfrom Ulava. And these several weeks marked a period of perfect weather. There were days on end when sleek calms ruled the breathless sea, anddays when vagrant wisps of air fanned for several hours from onedirection or another. The land-breezes at night alone proved regular, and it was at night that the occasional cutters and ketches slipped by, too eager to take advantage of the light winds to drop anchor for anhour. 

Then came the long-expected nor'wester. For eight days it raged, lullingat times to short durations of calm, then shifting a point or two andraging with renewed violence. Sheldon kept a precautionary eye on thebuildings, while the Balesuna, in flood, so savagely attacked the highbank Joan had warned him about, that he told off all the gangs to battlewith the river. 

It was in the good weather that followed, that he left the blacks atwork, one morning, and with a shot-gun across his pommel rode off afterpigeons. Two hours later, one of the house-boys, breathless andscratched ran him down with the news that the _Martha_, the _Flibberty-Gibbet_, and the _Emily_ were heading in for the anchorage. 

Coming into the compound from the rear, Sheldon could see nothing untilhe rode around the corner of the bungalow. Then he saw everything atonce--first, a glimpse at the sea, where the _Martha_ floated hugealongside the cutter and the ketch which had rescued her; and, next, theground in front of the veranda steps, where a great crowd of fresh-caughtcannibals stood at attention. From the fact that each was attired in anew, snow-white lava-lava, Sheldon knew that they were recruits. Partway up the steps, one of them was just backing down into the crowd, whileanother, called out by name, was coming up. It was Joan's voice that hadcalled him, and Sheldon reined in his horse and watched. She sat at thehead of the steps, behind a table, between Munster and his white mate, the three of them checking long lists, Joan asking the questions andwriting the answers in the big, red-covered, Berande labour-journal. 

"What name?" she demanded of the black man on the steps. 

"Tagari, " came the answer, accompanied by a grin and a rolling of curiouseyes; for it was the first white-man's house the black had ever seen. 

"What place b'long you?"

"Bangoora. "

No one had noticed Sheldon, and he continued to sit his horse and watch. There was a discrepancy between the answer and the record in therecruiting books, and a consequent discussion, until Munster solved thedifficulty. 

"Bangoora?" he said. "That's the little beach at the head of the bay outof Latta. He's down as a Latta-man--see, there it is, 'Tagari, Latta. '"

"What place you go you finish along white marster?" Joan asked. 

"Bangoora, " the man replied; and Joan wrote it down. 

"Ogu!" Joan called. 

The black stepped down, and another mounted to take his place. ButTagari, just before he reached the bottom step, caught sight of Sheldon. It was the first horse the fellow had ever seen, and he let out afrightened screech and dashed madly up the steps. At the same moment thegreat mass of blacks surged away panic-stricken from Sheldon's vicinity. The grinning house-boys shouted encouragement and explanation, and thestampede was checked, the new-caught head-hunters huddling closelytogether and staring dubiously at the fearful monster. 

"Hello!" Joan called out. "What do you mean by frightening all my boys?Come on up. "

"What do you think of them?" she asked, when they had shaken hands. "Andwhat do you think of her?"--with a wave of the hand toward the _Martha_. "I thought you'd deserted the plantation, and that I might as well goahead and get the men into barracks. Aren't they beauties? Do you seethat one with the split nose? He's the only man who doesn't hail fromthe Poonga-Poonga coast; and they said the Poonga-Poonga natives wouldn'trecruit. Just look at them and congratulate me. There are no kiddiesand half-grown youths among them. They're men, every last one of them. Ihave such a long story I don't know where to begin, and I won't beginanyway till we're through with this and until you have told me that youare not angry with me. "

"Ogu--what place b'long you?" she went on with her catechism. 

But Ogu was a bushman, lacking knowledge of the almost universal beche-de-mer English, and half a dozen of his fellows wrangled to explain. 

"There are only two or three more, " Joan said to Sheldon, "and then we'redone. But you haven't told me that you are not angry. "

Sheldon looked into her clear eyes as she favoured him with a direct, untroubled gaze that threatened, he knew from experience, to turnteasingly defiant on an instant's notice. And as he looked at her itcame to him that he had never half-anticipated the gladness her returnwould bring to him. 

"I was angry, " he said deliberately. "I am still angry, very angry--" henoted the glint of defiance in her eyes and thrilled--"but I forgave, andI now forgive all over again. Though I still insist--"

"That I should have a guardian, " she interrupted. "But that day willnever come. Thank goodness I'm of legal age and able to transactbusiness in my own right. And speaking of business, how do you like myforceful American methods?"

"Mr. Raff, from what I hear, doesn't take kindly to them, " he temporized, "and you've certainly set the dry bones rattling for many a day. Butwhat I want to know is if other American women are as successful inbusiness ventures?"

"Luck, 'most all luck, " she disclaimed modestly, though her eyes lightedwith sudden pleasure; and he knew her boy's vanity had been touched byhis trifle of tempered praise. 

"Luck be blowed!" broke out the long mate, Sparrowhawk, his face shiningwith admiration. "It was hard work, that's what it was. We earned ourpay. She worked us till we dropped. And we were down with fever halfthe time. So was she, for that matter, only she wouldn't stay down, andshe wouldn't let us stay down. My word, she's a slave-driver--'Just onemore heave, Mr. Sparrowhawk, and then you can go to bed for a week', --sheto me, and me staggerin' 'round like a dead man, with bilious-greenlights flashing inside my head, an' my head just bustin'. I was all in, but I gave that heave right O--and then it was, 'Another heave now, Mr. Sparrowhawk, just another heave. ' An' the Lord lumme, the way she madelove to old Kina-Kina!"

He shook his head reproachfully, while the laughter died down in histhroat to long-drawn chuckles. 

"He was older than Telepasse and dirtier, " she assured Sheldon, "and I amsure much wickeder. But this isn't work. Let us get through with theselists. "

She turned to the waiting black on the steps, --

"Ogu, you finish along big marster belong white man, you go Not-Not. --Hereyou, Tangari, you speak 'm along that fella Ogu. He finish he walk aboutNot-Not. Have you got that, Mr. Munster?"

"But you've broken the recruiting laws, " Sheldon said, when the newrecruits had marched away to the barracks. "The licenses for the_Flibberty_ and the _Emily_ don't allow for one hundred and fifty. Whatdid Burnett say?"

"He passed them, all of them, " she answered. "Captain Munster will tellyou what he said--something about being blowed, or words to that effect. Now I must run and wash up. Did the Sydney orders arrive?"

"Yours are in your quarters, " Sheldon said. "Hurry, for breakfast iswaiting. Let me have your hat and belt. Do, please, allow me. There'sonly one hook for them, and I know where it is. "

She gave him a quick scrutiny that was almost woman-like, then sighedwith relief as she unbuckled the heavy belt and passed it to him. 

"I doubt if I ever want to see another revolver, " she complained. "Thatone has worn a hole in me, I'm sure. I never dreamed I could get soweary of one. "

Sheldon watched her to the foot of the steps, where she turned and calledback, --

"My! I can't tell you how good it is to be home again. "

And as his gaze continued to follow her across the compound to the tinygrass house, the realization came to him crushingly that Berande and thatlittle grass house was the only place in the world she could call "home. "

* * * * *

"And Burnett said, 'Well, I'll be damned--I beg your pardon, MissLackland, but you have wantonly broken the recruiting laws and you knowit, '" Captain Munster narrated, as they sat over their whisky, waitingfor Joan to come back. "And says she to him, 'Mr. Burnett, can you showme any law against taking the passengers off a vessel that's on a reef?''That is not the point, ' says he. 'It's the very, precise, particularpoint, ' says she and you bear it in mind and go ahead and pass myrecruits. You can report me to the Lord High Commissioner if you want, but I have three vessels here waiting on your convenience, and if youdelay them much longer there'll be another report go in to the Lord HighCommissioner. '

"'I'll hold you responsible, Captain Munster, ' says he to me, mad enoughto eat scrap-iron. 'No, you won't, ' says she; 'I'm the charterer of the_Emily_, and Captain Munster has acted under my orders. '

"What could Burnett do? He passed the whole hundred and fifty, thoughthe _Emily_ was only licensed for forty, and the _Flibberty-Gibbet_ forthirty-five. "

"But I don't understand, " Sheldon said. 

"This is the way she worked it. When the _Martha_ was floated, we had tobeach her right away at the head of the bay, and whilst repairs weregoing on, a new rudder being made, sails bent, gear recovered from theniggers, and so forth, Miss Lackland borrows Sparrowhawk to run the_Flibberty_ along with Curtis, lends me Brahms to take Sparrowhawk'splace, and starts both craft off recruiting. My word, the niggers cameeasy. It was virgin ground. Since the _Scottish Chiefs_, no recruiterhad ever even tried to work the coast; and we'd already put the fear ofGod into the niggers' hearts till the whole coast was quiet as lambs. When we filled up, we came back to see how the _Martha_ was progressing. "

"And thinking we was going home with our recruits, " Sparrowhawk slippedin. "Lord lumme, that Miss Lackland ain't never satisfied. 'I'll take'em on the _Martha_, ' says she, 'and you can go back and fill up again. '"

"But I told her it couldn't be done, " Munster went on. "I told her the_Martha_ hadn't a license for recruiting. 'Oh, ' she said, 'it can't bedone, eh?' and she stood and thought a few minutes. "

"And I'd seen her think before, " cried Sparrowhawk, "and I knew at wunstthat the thing was as good as done. "

Munster lighted his cigarette and resumed. 

"'You see that spit, ' she says to me, 'with the little ripple breakingaround it? There's a current sets right across it and on it. And yousee them bafflin' little cat's-paws? It's good weather and a fallingtide. You just start to beat out, the two of you, and all you have to dois miss stays in the same baffling puff and the current will set younicely aground. '"

"'That little wash of sea won't more than start a sheet or two ofcopper, ' says she, when Munster kicked, " Sparrowhawk explained. "Oh, she's no green un, that girl. "

"'Then I'll rescue your recruits and sail away--simple, ain't it?' saysshe, " Munster continued. "'You hang up one tide, ' says she; 'the next isthe big high water. Then you kedge off and go after more recruits. There's no law against recruiting when you're empty. ' 'But there isagainst starving 'em, ' I said; 'you know yourself there ain't any _kai-kai_ to speak of aboard of us, and there ain't a crumb on the _Martha_. '"

"We'd all been pretty well on native _kai-kai_, as it was, " saidSparrowhawk. 

"'Don't let the _kai-kai_ worry you, Captain Munster, ' says she; 'if Ican find grub for eighty-four mouths on the _Martha_, the two of you cando as much by your two vessels. Now go ahead and get aground before asteady breeze comes up and spoils the manoeuvre. I'll send my boats themoment you strike. And now, good-day, gentlemen. '"

"And we went and did it, " Sparrowhawk said solemnly, and then emitted aseries of chuckling noises. "We laid over, starboard tack, and I pinchedthe _Emily_ against the spit. 'Go about, ' Captain Munster yells at me;'go about, or you'll have me aground!' He yelled other things, muchworse. But I didn't mind. I missed stays, pretty as you please, and the_Flibberty_ drifted down on him and fouled him, and we went ashoretogether in as nice a mess as you ever want to see. Miss Lacklandtransferred the recruits, and the trick was done. "

"But where was she during the nor'wester?" Sheldon asked. 

"At Langa-Langa. Ran up there as it was coming on, and laid there thewhole week and traded for grub with the niggers. When we got to Tulagi, there she was waiting for us and scrapping with Burnett. I tell you, Mr. Sheldon, she's a wonder, that girl, a perfect wonder. "

Munster refilled his glass, and while Sheldon glanced across at Joan'shouse, anxious for her coming, Sparrowhawk took up the tale. 

"Gritty! She's the grittiest thing, man or woman, that ever blew intothe Solomons. You should have seen Poonga-Poonga the morning wearrived--Sniders popping on the beach and in the mangroves, war-drumsbooming in the bush, and signal-smokes raising everywhere. 'It's allup, ' says Captain Munster. "

"Yes, that's what I said, " declared that mariner. 

"Of course it was all up. You could see it with half an eye and hear itwith one ear. "

"'Up your granny, ' she says to him, " Sparrowhawk went on. "'Why, wehaven't arrived yet, much less got started. Wait till the anchor's downbefore you get afraid. '"

"That's what she said to me, " Munster proclaimed. "And of course it mademe mad so that I didn't care what happened. We tried to send a boatashore for a pow-wow, but it was fired upon. And every once and a whilesome nigger'd take a long shot at us out of the mangroves. "

"They was only a quarter of a mile off, " Sparrowhawk explained, "and itwas damned nasty. 'Don't shoot unless they try to board, ' was MissLackland's orders; but the dirty niggers wouldn't board. They just layoff in the bush and plugged away. That night we held a council of war inthe _Flibberty's_ cabin. 'What we want, ' says Miss Lackland, 'is ahostage. '"

"'That's what they do in books, ' I said, thinking to laugh her away fromher folly, " Munster interrupted. "'True, ' says she, 'and have you neverseen the books come true?' I shook my head. 'Then you're not too old tolearn, ' says she. 'I'll tell you one thing right now, ' says I, 'and thatis I'll be blowed if you catch me ashore in the night-time stealingniggers in a place like this. '"

"You didn't say blowed, " Sparrowhawk corrected. "You said you'd bedamned. "

"That's what I did, and I meant it, too. "

"'Nobody asked you to go ashore, ' says she, quick as lightning, "Sparrowhawk grinned. "And she said more. She said, 'And if I catch yougoing ashore without orders there'll be trouble--understand, CaptainMunster?'"

"Who in hell's telling this, you or me?" the skipper demanded wrathfully. 

"Well, she did, didn't she?" insisted the mate. 

"Yes, she did, if you want to make so sure of it. And while you're aboutit, you might as well repeat what she said to you when you said youwouldn't recruit on the Poonga-Poonga coast for twice your screw. "

Sparrowhawk's sun-reddened face flamed redder, though he tried to passthe situation off by divers laughings and chucklings and face-twistings. 

"Go on, go on, " Sheldon urged; and Munster resumed the narrative. 

"'What we need, ' says she, 'is the strong hand. It's the only way tohandle them; and we've got to take hold firm right at the beginning. I'mgoing ashore to-night to fetch Kina-Kina himself on board, and I'm notasking who's game to go for I've got every man's work arranged with mefor him. I'm taking my sailors with me, and one white man. ' 'Of course, I'm that white man, ' I said; for by that time I was mad enough to go tohell and back again. 'Of course you're not, ' says she. 'You'll havecharge of the covering boat. Curtis stands by the landing boat. Fowlergoes with me. Brahms takes charge of the _Flibberty_, and Sparrowhawk ofthe _Emily_. And we start at one o'clock. '

"My word, it was a tough job lying there in the covering boat. I neverthought doing nothing could be such hard work. We stopped about fiftyfathoms off, and watched the other boat go in. It was so dark under themangroves we couldn't see a thing of it. D'ye know that little, monkey-looking nigger, Sheldon, on the _Flibberty_--the cook, I mean? Well, hewas cabin-boy twenty years ago on the _Scottish Chiefs_, and after shewas cut off he was a slave there at Poonga-Poonga. And Miss Lackland haddiscovered the fact. So he was the guide. She gave him half a case oftobacco for that night's work--"

"And scared him fit to die before she could get him to come along, "Sparrowhawk observed. 

"Well, I never saw anything so black as the mangroves. I stared at themtill my eyes were ready to burst. And then I'd look at the stars, andlisten to the surf sighing along the reef. And there was a dog thatbarked. Remember that dog, Sparrowhawk? The brute nearly gave me heart-failure when he first began. After a while he stopped--wasn't barking atthe landing party at all; and then the silence was harder than ever, andthe mangroves grew blacker, and it was all I could do to keep fromcalling out to Curtis in there in the landing boat, just to make surethat I wasn't the only white man left alive. 

"Of course there was a row. It had to come, and I knew it; but itstartled me just the same. I never heard such screeching and yelling inmy life. The niggers must have just dived for the bush without lookingto see what was up, while her Tahitians let loose, shooting in the airand yelling to hurry 'em on. And then, just as sudden, came the silenceagain--all except for some small kiddie that had got dropped in thestampede and that kept crying in the bush for its mother. 

"And then I heard them coming through the mangroves, and an oar strike ona gunwale, and Miss Lackland laugh, and I knew everything was all right. We pulled on board without a shot being fired. And, by God! she had madethe books come true, for there was old Kina-Kina himself being hoistedover the rail, shivering and chattering like an ape. The rest was easy. Kina-Kina's word was law, and he was scared to death. And we kept him onboard issuing proclamations all the time we were in Poonga-Poonga. 

"It was a good move, too, in other ways. She made Kina-Kina order hispeople to return all the gear they'd stripped from the _Martha_. Andback it came, day after day, steering compasses, blocks and tackles, sails, coils of rope, medicine chests, ensigns, signal flags--everything, in fact, except the trade goods and supplies which had already been _kai-kai'd_. Of course, she gave them a few sticks of tobacco to keep them ingood humour. "

"Sure she did, " Sparrowhawk broke forth. "She gave the beggars fivefathoms of calico for the big mainsail, two sticks of tobacco for thechronometer, and a sheath-knife worth elevenpence ha'penny for a hundredfathoms of brand new five-inch manila. She got old Kina-Kina with thatstrong hand on the go off, and she kept him going all the time. She--hereshe comes now. "

It was with a shock of surprise that Sheldon greeted her appearance. Allthe time, while the tale of happening at Poonga-Poonga had been going on, he had pictured her as the woman he had always known, clad roughly, skirtmade out of window-curtain stuff, an undersized man's shirt for a blouse, straw sandals for foot covering, with the Stetson hat and the eternalrevolver completing her costume. The ready-made clothes from Sydney hadtransformed her. A simple skirt and shirt-waist of some sort of wash-goods set off her trim figure with a hint of elegant womanhood that wasnew to him. Brown slippers peeped out as she crossed the compound, andhe once caught a glimpse to the ankle of brown open-work stockings. Somehow, she had been made many times the woman by these mere extraneoustrappings; and in his mind these wild Arabian Nights adventures of hersseemed thrice as wonderful. 

As they went in to breakfast he became aware that Munster and Sparrowhawkhad received a similar shock. All their air of _camaraderie_ wasdissipated, and they had become abruptly and immensely respectful. 

"I've opened up a new field, " she said, as she began pouring the coffee. "Old Kina-Kina will never forget me, I'm sure, and I can recruit therewhenever I want. I saw Morgan at Guvutu. He's willing to contract for athousand boys at forty shillings per head. Did I tell you that I'd takenout a recruiting license for the _Martha_? I did, and the _Martha_ cansign eighty boys every trip. "

Sheldon smiled a trifle bitterly to himself. The wonderful woman who hadtripped across the compound in her Sydney clothes was gone, and he waslistening to the boy come back again. 

CHAPTER XIX--THE LOST TOY

"Well, " Joan said with a sigh, "I've shown you hustling American methodsthat succeed and get somewhere, and here you are beginning your muddlingagain. "

Five days had passed, and she and Sheldon were standing on the verandawatching the _Martha_, close-hauled on the wind, laying a tack off shore. During those five days Joan had never once broached the desire of herheart, though Sheldon, in this particular instance reading her like abook, had watched her lead up to the question a score of times in thehope that he would himself suggest her taking charge of the _Martha_. Shehad wanted him to say the word, and she had steeled herself not to say itherself. The matter of finding a skipper had been a hard one. She wasjealous of the _Martha_, and no suggested man had satisfied her. 

"Oleson?" she had demanded. "He does very well on the _Flibberty_, withme and my men to overhaul her whenever she's ready to fall to piecesthrough his slackness. But skipper of the _Martha_? Impossible!"

"Munster? Yes, he's the only man I know in the Solomons I'd care to seein charge. And yet, there's his record. He lost the _Umbawa_--onehundred and forty drowned. He was first officer on the bridge. Deliberate disobedience to instructions. No wonder they broke him. 

"Christian Young has never had any experience with large boats. Besides, we can't afford to pay him what he's clearing on the _Minerva_. Sparrowhawk is a good man--to take orders. He has no initiative. He'san able sailor, but he can't command. I tell you I was nervous all thetime he had charge of the _Flibberty_ at Poonga-Poonga when I had to stayby the _Martha_. "

And so it had gone. No name proposed was satisfactory, and, moreover, Sheldon had been surprised by the accuracy of her judgments. A dozentimes she almost drove him to the statement that from the showing shemade of Solomon Islands sailors, she was the only person fitted tocommand the _Martha_. But each time he restrained himself, while herpride prevented her from making the suggestion. 

"Good whale-boat sailors do not necessarily make good schooner-handlers, "she replied to one of his arguments. "Besides, the captain of a boatlike the _Martha_ must have a large mind, see things in a large way; hemust have capacity and enterprise. "

"But with your Tahitians on board--" Sheldon had begun another argument. 

"There won't be any Tahitians on board, " she had returned promptly. "Mymen stay with me. I never know when I may need them. When I sail, theysail; when I remain ashore, they remain ashore. I'll find plenty forthem to do right here on the plantation. You've seen them clearing bush, each of them worth half a dozen of your cannibals. "

So it was that Joan stood beside Sheldon and sighed as she watched the_Martha_ beating out to sea, old Kinross, brought over from Savo, incommand. 

"Kinross is an old fossil, " she said, with a touch of bitterness in hervoice. "Oh, he'll never wreck her through rashness, rest assured ofthat; but he's timid to childishness, and timid skippers lose just asmany vessels as rash ones. Some day, Kinross will lose the _Martha_because there'll be only one chance and he'll be afraid to take it. Iknow his sort. Afraid to take advantage of a proper breeze of wind thatwill fetch him in in twenty hours, he'll get caught out in the calm thatfollows and spend a whole week in getting in. The _Martha_ will makemoney with him, there's no doubt of it; but she won't make near the moneythat she would under a competent master. "

She paused, and with heightened colour and sparkling eyes gazed seawardat the schooner. 

"My! but she is a witch! Look at her eating up the water, and there's nowind to speak of. She's not got ordinary white metal either. It's man-of-war copper, every inch of it. I had them polish it with cocoanuthusks when she was careened at Poonga-Poonga. She was a seal-hunterbefore this gold expedition got her. And seal-hunters had to sail. They've run away from second class Russian cruisers more than once upthere off Siberia. 

"Honestly, if I'd dreamed of the chance waiting for me at Guvutu when Ibought her for less than three hundred dollars, I'd never have gonepartners with you. And in that case I'd be sailing her right now. "

The justice of her contention came abruptly home to Sheldon. What shehad done she would have done just the same if she had not been hispartner. And in the saving of the _Martha_ he had played no part. Single-handed, unadvised, in the teeth of the laughter of Guvutu and of thecompetition of men like Morgan and Raff, she had gone into the adventureand brought it through to success. 

"You make me feel like a big man who has robbed a small child of alolly, " he said with sudden contrition. 

"And the small child is crying for it. " She looked at him, and he notedthat her lip was slightly trembling and that her eyes were moist. It wasthe boy all over, he thought; the boy crying for the wee bit boat withwhich to play. And yet it was a woman, too. What a maze ofcontradiction she was! And he wondered, had she been all woman and noboy, if he would have loved her in just the same way. Then it rushed inupon his consciousness that he really loved her for what she was, for allthe boy in her and all the rest of her--for the total of her that wouldhave been a different total in direct proportion to any differing of theparts of her. 

"But the small child won't cry any more for it, " she was saying. "Thisis the last sob. Some day, if Kinross doesn't lose her, you'll turn herover to your partner, I know. And I won't nag you any more. Only I dohope you know how I feel. It isn't as if I'd merely bought the _Martha_, or merely built her. I saved her. I took her off the reef. I saved herfrom the grave of the sea when fifty-five pounds was considered a bigrisk. She is mine, peculiarly mine. Without me she wouldn't exist. Thatbig nor'wester would have finished her the first three hours it blew. Andthen I've sailed her, too; and she is a witch, a perfect witch. Why, doyou know, she'll steer by the wind with half a spoke, give and take. Andgoing about! Well, you don't have to baby her, starting head-sheets, flattening mainsail, and gentling her with the wheel. Put your wheeldown, and around she comes, like a colt with the bit in its teeth. Andyou can back her like a steamer. I did it at Langa-Langa, between thatshoal patch and the shore-reef. It was wonderful. 

"But you don't love boats like I do, and I know you think I'm making afool of myself. But some day I'm going to sail the _Martha_ again. Iknow it. I know it. "

In reply, and quite without premeditation, his hand went out to hers, covering it as it lay on the railing. But he knew, beyond the shadow ofa doubt, that it was the boy that returned the pressure he gave, the boysorrowing over the lost toy. The thought chilled him. Never had he beenactually nearer to her, and never had she been more convincingly remote. She was certainly not acutely aware that his hand was touching hers. Inher grief at the departure of the _Martha_ it was, to her, anybody'shand--at the best, a friend's hand. 

He withdrew his hand and walked perturbedly away. 

"Why hasn't he got that big fisherman's staysail on her?" she demandedirritably. "It would make the old girl just walk along in this breeze. Iknow the sort old Kinross is. He's the skipper that lies three daysunder double-reefed topsails waiting for a gale that doesn't come. Safe?Oh, yes, he's safe--dangerously safe. "

Sheldon retraced his steps. 

"Never mind, " he said. "You can go sailing on the _Martha_ any time youplease--recruiting on Malaita if you want to. "

It was a great concession he was making, and he felt that he did itagainst his better judgment. Her reception of it was a surprise to him. 

"With old Kinross in command?" she queried. "No, thank you. He'd driveme to suicide. I couldn't stand his handling of her. It would give menervous prostration. I'll never step on the _Martha_ again, unless it isto take charge of her. I'm a sailor, like my father, and he could neverbear to see a vessel mishandled. Did you see the way Kinross got underway? It was disgraceful. And the noise he made about it! Old Noah didbetter with the Ark. "

"But we manage to get somewhere just the same, " he smiled. 

"So did Noah. "

"That was the main thing. "

"For an antediluvian. "

She took another lingering look at the _Martha_, then turned to Sheldon. 

"You are a slovenly lot down here when it comes to boats--most of youare, any way. Christian Young is all right though, Munster has a slap-dash style about him, and they do say old Nielsen was a crackerjack. Butwith the rest I've seen, there's no dash, no go, no cleverness, no realsailor's pride. It's all humdrum, and podgy, and slow-going, any goingso long as you get there heaven knows when. But some day I'll show youhow the _Martha_ should be handled. I'll break out anchor and get underway in a speed and style that will make your head hum; and I'll bring heralongside the wharf at Guvutu without dropping anchor and running aline. "

She came to a breathless pause, and then broke into laughter, directed, he could see, against herself. 

"Old Kinross is setting that fisherman's staysail, " he remarked quietly. 

"No!" she cried incredulously, swiftly looking, then running for thetelescope. 

She regarded the manoeuvre steadily through the glass, and Sheldon, watching her face, could see that the skipper was not making a success ofit. 

She finally lowered the glass with a groan. 

"He's made a mess of it, " she said, "and now he's trying it over again. And a man like that is put in charge of a fairy like the _Martha_! Well, it's a good argument against marriage, that's all. No, I won't look anymore. Come on in and play a steady, conservative game of billiards withme. And after that I'm going to saddle up and go after pigeons. Willyou come along?"

An hour later, just as they were riding out of the compound, Joan turnedin the saddle for a last look at the _Martha_, a distant speck well overtoward the Florida coast. 

"Won't Tudor be surprised when he finds we own the _Martha_?" shelaughed. "Think of it! If he doesn't strike pay-dirt he'll have to buya steamer-passage to get away from the Solomons. "

Still laughing gaily, she rode through the gate. But suddenly herlaughter broke flatly and she reined in the mare. Sheldon glanced at hersharply, and noted her face mottling, even as he looked, and turningorange and green. 

"It's the fever, " she said. "I'll have to turn back. "

By the time they were in the compound she was shivering and shaking, andhe had to help her from her horse. 

"Funny, isn't it?" she said with chattering teeth. "Like seasickness--notserious, but horribly miserable while it lasts. I'm going to bed. SendNoa Noah and Viaburi to me. Tell Ornfiri to make hot water. I'll be outof my head in fifteen minutes. But I'll be all right by evening. Shortand sharp is the way it takes me. Too bad to lose the shooting. Thankyou, I'm all right. "

Sheldon obeyed her instructions, rushed hot-water bottles along to her, and then sat on the veranda vainly trying to interest himself in a two-months-old file of Sydney newspapers. He kept glancing up and across thecompound to the grass house. Yes, he decided, the contention of everywhite man in the islands was right; the Solomons was no place for awoman. 

He clapped his hands, and Lalaperu came running. 

"Here, you!" he ordered; "go along barracks, bring 'm black fella Mary, plenty too much, altogether. "

A few minutes later the dozen black women of Berande were ranged beforehim. He looked them over critically, finally selecting one that wasyoung, comely as such creatures went, and whose body bore no signs ofskin-disease. 

"What name, you?" he demanded. "Sangui?"

"Me Mahua, " was the answer. 

"All right, you fella Mahua. You finish cook along boys. You stop alongwhite Mary. All the time you stop along. You savvee?"

"Me savvee, " she grunted, and obeyed his gesture to go to the grass houseimmediately. 

"What name?" he asked Viaburi, who had just come out of the grass house. 

"Big fella sick, " was the answer. "White fella Mary talk 'm too muchallee time. Allee time talk 'm big fella schooner. "

Sheldon nodded. He understood. It was the loss of the _Martha_ that hadbrought on the fever. The fever would have come sooner or later, heknew; but her disappointment had precipitated it. He lighted acigarette, and in the curling smoke of it caught visions of his Englishmother, and wondered if she would understand how her son could love awoman who cried because she could not be skipper of a schooner in thecannibal isles. 

CHAPTER XX--A MAN-TALK

The most patient man in the world is prone to impatience in love--andSheldon was in love. He called himself an ass a score of times a day, and strove to contain himself by directing his mind in other channels, but more than a score of times each day his thoughts roved back and dwelton Joan. It was a pretty problem she presented, and he was continuallydebating with himself as to what was the best way to approach her. 

He was not an adept at love-making. He had had but one experience in thegentle art (in which he had been more wooed than wooing), and the affairhad profited him little. This was another affair, and he assured himselfcontinually that it was a uniquely different and difficult affair. Notonly was here a woman who was not bent on finding a husband, but it was awoman who wasn't a woman at all; who was genuinely appalled by thethought of a husband; who joyed in boys' games, and sentimentalized oversuch things as adventure; who was healthy and normal and wholesome, andwho was so immature that a husband stood for nothing more than anencumbrance in her cherished scheme of existence. 

But how to approach her? He divined the fanatical love of freedom inher, the deep-seated antipathy for restraint of any sort. No man couldever put his arm around her and win her. She would flutter away like afrightened bird. Approach by contact--that, he realized, was the onething he must never do. His hand-clasp must be what it had always been, the hand-clasp of hearty friendship and nothing more. Never by actionmust he advertise his feeling for her. Remained speech. But whatspeech? Appeal to her love? But she did not love him. Appeal to herbrain? But it was apparently a boy's brain. All the deliciousness andfineness of a finely bred woman was hers; but, for all he could discern, her mental processes were sexless and boyish. And yet speech it must be, for a beginning had to be made somewhere, some time; her mind must bemade accustomed to the idea, her thoughts turned upon the matter ofmarriage. 

And so he rode overseeing about the plantation, with tightly drawn andpuckered brows, puzzling over the problem, and steeling himself to thefirst attempt. A dozen ways he planned an intricate leading up to thefirst breaking of the ice, and each time some link in the chain snappedand the talk went off on unexpected and irrelevant lines. And then onemorning, quite fortuitously, the opportunity came. 

"My dearest wish is the success of Berande, " Joan had just said, aproposof a discussion about the cheapening of freights on copra to market. 

"Do you mind if I tell you the dearest wish of my heart?" he promptlyreturned. "I long for it. I dream about it. It is my dearest desire. "

He paused and looked at her with intent significance; but it was plain tohim that she thought there was nothing more at issue than mutualconfidences about things in general. 

"Yes, go ahead, " she said, a trifle impatient at his delay. 

"I love to think of the success of Berande, " he said; "but that issecondary. It is subordinate to the dearest wish, which is that some dayyou will share Berande with me in a completer way than that of merebusiness partnership. It is for you, some day, when you are ready, to bemy wife. "

She started back from him as if she had been stung. Her face went whiteon the instant, not from maidenly embarrassment, but from the anger whichhe could see flaming in her eyes. 

"This taking for granted!--this when I am ready!" she cried passionately. Then her voice swiftly became cold and steady, and she talked in the wayhe imagined she must have talked business with Morgan and Raff at Guvutu. "Listen to me, Mr. Sheldon. I like you very well, though you are slowand a muddler; but I want you to understand, once and for all, that I didnot come to the Solomons to get married. That is an affliction I couldhave accumulated at home, without sailing ten thousand miles after it. Ihave my own way to make in the world, and I came to the Solomons to doit. Getting married is not making _my_ way in the world. It may do forsome women, but not for me, thank you. When I sit down to talk over thefreight on copra, I don't care to have proposals of marriage sandwichedin. Besides--besides--"

Her voice broke for the moment, and when she went on there was a note ofappeal in it that well-nigh convicted him to himself of being a brute. 

"Don't you see?--it spoils everything; it makes the whole situationimpossible . . . And . . . And I so loved our partnership, and was proudof it. Don't you see?--I can't go on being your partner if you make loveto me. And I was so happy. "

Tears of disappointment were in her eyes, and she caught a swift sob inher throat. 

"I warned you, " he said gravely. "Such unusual situations between menand women cannot endure. I told you so at the beginning. "

"Oh, yes; it is quite clear to me what you did. " She was angry again, and the feminine appeal had disappeared. "You were very discreet in yourwarning. You took good care to warn me against every other man in theSolomons except yourself. "

It was a blow in the face to Sheldon. He smarted with the truth of it, and at the same time he smarted with what he was convinced was theinjustice of it. A gleam of triumph that flickered in her eye because ofthe hit she had made decided him. 

"It is not so one-sided as you seem to think it is, " he began. "I wasdoing very nicely on Berande before you came. At least I was notsuffering indignities, such as being accused of cowardly conduct, as youhave just accused me. Remember--please remember, I did not invite you toBerande. Nor did I invite you to stay on at Berande. It was by stayingthat you brought about this--to you--unpleasant situation. By stayingyou made yourself a temptation, and now you would blame me for it. I didnot want you to stay. I wasn't in love with you then. I wanted you togo to Sydney; to go back to Hawaii. But you insisted on staying. Youvirtually--"

He paused for a softer word than the one that had risen to his lips, andshe took it away from him. 

"Forced myself on you--that's what you meant to say, " she cried, theflags of battle painting her cheeks. "Go ahead. Don't mind myfeelings. "

"All right; I won't, " he said decisively, realizing that the discussionwas in danger of becoming a vituperative, schoolboy argument. "You haveinsisted on being considered as a man. Consistency would demand that youtalk like a man, and like a man listen to man-talk. And listen youshall. It is not your fault that this unpleasantness has arisen. I donot blame you for anything; remember that. And for the same reason youshould not blame me for anything. "

He noticed her bosom heaving as she sat with clenched hands, and it wasall he could do to conquer the desire to flash his arms out and aroundher instead of going on with his coolly planned campaign. As it was, henearly told her that she was a most adorable boy. But he checked allsuch wayward fancies, and held himself rigidly down to his disquisition. 

"You can't help being yourself. You can't help being a very desirablecreature so far as I am concerned. You have made me want you. Youdidn't intend to; you didn't try to. You were so made, that is all. AndI was so made that I was ripe to want you. But I can't help beingmyself. I can't by an effort of will cease from wanting you, any morethan you by an effort of will can make yourself undesirable to me. "

"Oh, this desire! this want! want! want!" she broke in rebelliously. "Iam not quite a fool. I understand some things. And the whole thing isso foolish and absurd--and uncomfortable. I wish I could get away fromit. I really think it would be a good idea for me to marry Noa Noah, orAdamu Adam, or Lalaperu there, or any black boy. Then I could give himorders, and keep him penned away from me; and men like you would leave mealone, and not talk marriage and 'I want, I want. '"

Sheldon laughed in spite of himself, and far from any genuine impulse tolaugh. 

"You are positively soulless, " he said savagely. 

"Because I've a soul that doesn't yearn for a man for master?" she tookup the gage. "Very well, then. I am soulless, and what are you going todo about it?"

"I am going to ask you why you look like a woman? Why have you the formof a woman? the lips of a woman? the wonderful hair of a woman? And I amgoing to answer: because you are a woman--though the woman in you isasleep--and that some day the woman will wake up. "

"Heaven forbid!" she cried, in such sudden and genuine dismay as to makehim laugh, and to bring a smile to her own lips against herself. 

"I've got some more to say to you, " Sheldon pursued. "I did try toprotect you from every other man in the Solomons, and from yourself aswell. As for me, I didn't dream that danger lay in that quarter. So Ifailed to protect you from myself. I failed to protect you at all. Youwent your own wilful way, just as though I didn't exist--wreckingschooners, recruiting on Malaita, and sailing schooners; one lone, unprotected girl in the company of some of the worst scoundrels in theSolomons. Fowler! and Brahms! and Curtis! And such is the perversenessof human nature--I am frank, you see--I love you for that too. I loveyou for all of you, just as you are. "

She made a _moue_ of distaste and raised a hand protestingly. 

"Don't, " he said. "You have no right to recoil from the mention of mylove for you. Remember this is a man-talk. From the point of view ofthe talk, you are a man. The woman in you is only incidental, accidental, and irrelevant. You've got to listen to the bald statementof fact, strange though it is, that I love you. "

"And now I won't bother you any more about love. We'll go on the same asbefore. You are better off and safer on Berande, in spite of the factthat I love you, than anywhere else in the Solomons. But I want you, asa final item of man-talk, to remember, from time to time, that I loveyou, and that it will be the dearest day of my life when you consent tomarry me. I want you to think of it sometimes. You can't help but thinkof it sometimes. And now we won't talk about it any more. As betweenmen, there's my hand. "

He held out his hand. She hesitated, then gripped it heartily, andsmiled through her tears. 

"I wish--" she faltered, "I wish, instead of that black Mary, you'd givenme somebody to swear for me. "

And with this enigmatic utterance she turned away. 

CHAPTER XXI--CONTRABAND

Sheldon did not mention the subject again, nor did his conduct changefrom what it had always been. There was nothing of the pining lover, norof the lover at all, in his demeanour. Nor was there any awkwardnessbetween them. They were as frank and friendly in their relations asever. He had wondered if his belligerent love declaration might havearoused some womanly self-consciousness in Joan, but he looked in vainfor any sign of it. She appeared as unchanged as he; and while he knewthat he hid his real feelings, he was firm in his belief that she hidnothing. And yet the germ he had implanted must be at work; he wasconfident of that, though he was without confidence as to the result. There was no forecasting this strange girl's processes. She mightawaken, it was true; and on the other hand, and with equal chance, hemight be the wrong man for her, and his declaration of love might onlymore firmly set her in her views on single blessedness. 

While he devoted more and more of his time to the plantation itself, shetook over the house and its multitudinous affairs; and she took holdfirmly, in sailor fashion, revolutionizing the system and discipline. Thelabour situation on Berande was improving. The _Martha_ had carried awayfifty of the blacks whose time was up, and they had been among the worston the plantation--five-year men recruited by Billy Be-blowed, men whohad gone through the old days of terrorism when the original owners ofBerande had been driven away. The new recruits, being broken in underthe new regime, gave better promise. Joan had joined with Sheldon fromthe start in the programme that they must be gripped with the stronghand, and at the same time be treated with absolute justice, if they wereto escape being contaminated by the older boys that still remained. 

"I think it would be a good idea to put all the gangs at work close tothe house this afternoon, " she announced one day at breakfast. "I'vecleaned up the house, and you ought to clean up the barracks. There istoo much stealing going on. "

"A good idea, " Sheldon agreed. "Their boxes should be searched. I'vejust missed a couple of shirts, and my best toothbrush is gone. "

"And two boxes of my cartridges, " she added, "to say nothing ofhandkerchiefs, towels, sheets, and my best pair of slippers. But whatthey want with your toothbrush is more than I can imagine. They'll bestealing the billiard balls next. "

"One did disappear a few weeks before you came, " Sheldon laughed. "We'llsearch the boxes this afternoon. "

And a busy afternoon it was. Joan and Sheldon, both armed, went throughthe barracks, house by house, the boss-boys assisting, and half a dozenmessengers, in relay, shouting along the line the names of the boyswanted. Each boy brought the key to his particular box, and waspermitted to look on while the contents were overhauled by the boss-boys. 

A wealth of loot was recovered. There were fully a dozen cane-knives--bighacking weapons with razor-edges, capable of decapitating a man at astroke. Towels, sheets, shirts, and slippers, along with toothbrushes, wisp-brooms, soap, the missing billiard ball, and all the lost andforgotten trifles of many months, came to light. But most astonishingwas the quantity of ammunition-cartridges for Lee-Metfords, forWinchesters and Marlins, for revolvers from thirty-two calibre to forty-five, shot-gun cartridges, Joan's two boxes of thirty-eight, cartridgesof prodigious bore for the ancient Sniders of Malaita, flasks of blackpowder, sticks of dynamite, yards of fuse, and boxes of detonators. Butthe great find was in the house occupied by Gogoomy and five Port Adamsrecruits. The fact that the boxes yielded nothing excited Sheldon'ssuspicions, and he gave orders to dig up the earthen floor. Wrapped inmatting, well oiled, free from rust, and brand new, two Winchesters werefirst unearthed. Sheldon did not recognize them. They had not come fromBerande; neither had the forty flasks of black powder found under thecorner-post of the house; and while he could not be sure, he couldremember no loss of eight boxes of detonators. A big Colt's revolver herecognized as Hughie Drummond's; while Joan identified a thirty-two Ivorand Johnson as a loss reported by Matapuu the first week he landed atBerande. The absence of any cartridges made Sheldon persist in thedigging up of the floor, and a fifty-pound flour tin was his reward. Withglowering eyes Gogoomy looked on while Sheldon took from the tin ahundred rounds each for the two Winchesters and fully as many rounds moreof nondescript cartridges of all sorts and makes and calibres. 

The contraband and stolen property was piled in assorted heaps on theback veranda of the bungalow. A few paces from the bottom of the stepswere grouped the forty-odd culprits, with behind them, in solid array, the several hundred blacks of the plantation. At the head of the stepsJoan and Sheldon were seated, while on the steps stood the gang-bosses. One by one the culprits were called up and examined. Nothing definitecould be extracted from them. They lied transparently, but persistently, and when caught in one lie explained it away with half a dozen others. One boy complacently announced that he had found eleven sticks ofdynamite on the beach. Matapuu's revolver, found in the box of one Kapu, was explained away by that boy as having been given to him by Lervumie. Lervumie, called forth to testify, said he had got it from Noni; Noni hadgot it from Sulefatoi; Sulefatoi from Choka; Choka from Ngava; and Ngavacompleted the circle by stating that it had been given to him by Kapu. Kapu, thus doubly damned, calmly gave full details of how it had beengiven to him by Lervumie; and Lervumie, with equal wealth of detail, toldhow he had received it from Noni; and from Noni to Sulefatoi it went onaround the circle again. 

Divers articles were traced indubitably to the house-boys, each of whomsteadfastly proclaimed his own innocence and cast doubts on his fellows. The boy with the billiard ball said that he had never seen it in his lifebefore, and hazarded the suggestion that it had got into his box throughsome mysterious and occultly evil agency. So far as he was concerned itmight have dropped down from heaven for all he knew how it got there. Tothe cooks and boats'-crews of every vessel that had dropped anchor offBerande in the past several years were ascribed the arrival of scores ofthe stolen articles and of the major portion of the ammunition. Therewas no tracing the truth in any of it, though it was without doubt thatthe unidentified weapons and unfamiliar cartridges had come ashore offvisiting craft. 

"Look at it, " Sheldon said to Joan. "We've been sleeping over a volcano. They ought to be whipped--"

"No whip me, " Gogoomy cried out from below. "Father belong me big fellachief. Me whip, too much trouble along you, close up, my word. "

"What name you fella Gogoomy!" Sheldon shouted. "I knock seven bells outof you. Here, you Kwaque, put 'm irons along that fella Gogoomy. "

Kwaque, a strapping gang-boss, plucked Gogoomy from out of his following, and, helped by the other gang-bosses; twisted his arms behind him andsnapped on the heavy handcuffs. 

"Me finish along you, close up, you die altogether, " Gogoomy, with wrath-distorted face, threatened the boss-boy. 

"Please, no whipping, " Joan said in a low voice. "If whipping _is_necessary, send them to Tulagi and let the Government do it. Give themtheir choice between a fine or an official whipping. "

Sheldon nodded and stood up, facing the blacks. 

"Manonmie!" he called. 

Manonmie stood forth and waited. 

"You fella boy bad fella too much, " Sheldon charged. "You steal 'mplenty. You steal 'm one fella towel, one fella cane-knife, two-tenfella cartridge. My word, plenty bad fella steal 'm you. Me cross alongyou too much. S'pose you like 'm, me take 'm one fella pound along youin big book. S'pose you no like 'm me take 'm one fella pound, then mesend you fella along Tulagi catch 'm one strong fella governmentwhipping. Plenty New Georgia boys, plenty Ysabel boys stop along jailalong Tulagi. Them fella no like Malaita boys little bit. My word, theygive 'm you strong fella whipping. What you say?"

"You take 'm one fella pound along me, " was the answer. 

And Manonmie, patently relieved, stepped back, while Sheldon entered thefine in the plantation labour journal. 

Boy after boy, he called the offenders out and gave them their choice;and, boy by boy, each one elected to pay the fine imposed. Some fineswere as low as several shillings; while in the more serious cases, suchas thefts of guns and ammunition, the fines were correspondingly heavy. 

Gogoomy and his five tribesmen were fined three pounds each, and atGogoomy's guttural command they refused to pay. 

"S'pose you go along Tulagi, " Sheldon warned him, "you catch 'm strongfella whipping and you stop along jail three fella year. Mr. Burnett, helook 'm along Winchester, look 'm along cartridge, look 'm alongrevolver, look 'm along black powder, look 'm along dynamite--my word, hecross too much, he give you three fella year along jail. S'pose you nolike 'm pay three fella pound you stop along jail. Savvee?"

Gogoomy wavered. 

"It's true--that's what Burnett would give them, " Sheldon said in anaside to Joan. 

"You take 'm three fella pound along me, " Gogoomy muttered, at the sametime scowling his hatred at Sheldon, and transferring half the scowl toJoan and Kwaque. "Me finish along you, you catch 'm big fella trouble, my word. Father belong me big fella chief along Port Adams. "

"That will do, " Sheldon warned him. "You shut mouth belong you. "

"Me no fright, " the son of a chief retorted, by his insolence increasinghis stature in the eyes of his fellows. 

"Lock him up for to-night, " Sheldon said to Kwaque. "Sun he come up put'm that fella and five fella belong him along grass-cutting. Savvee?"

Kwaque grinned. 

"Me savvee, " he said. "Cut 'm grass, _ngari-ngari_ {4} stop 'm alonggrass. My word!"

"There will be trouble with Gogoomy yet, " Sheldon said to Joan, as theboss-boys marshalled their gangs and led them away to their work. "Keepan eye on him. Be careful when you are riding alone on the plantation. The loss of those Winchesters and all that ammunition has hit him harderthan your cuffing did. He is dead-ripe for mischief. "

CHAPTER XXII--GOGOOMY FINISHES ALONG KWAQUE ALTOGETHER

"I wonder what has become of Tudor. It's two months since he disappearedinto the bush, and not a word of him after he left Binu. "

Joan Lackland was sitting astride her horse by the bank of the Balesunawhere the sweet corn had been planted, and Sheldon, who had come acrossfrom the house on foot, was leaning against her horse's shoulder. 

"Yes, it is along time for no news to have trickled down, " he answered, watching her keenly from under his hat-brim and wondering as to themeasure of her anxiety for the adventurous gold-hunter; "but Tudor willcome out all right. He did a thing at the start that I wouldn't havegiven him or any other man credit for--persuaded Binu Charley to go alongwith him. I'll wager no other Binu nigger has ever gone so far into thebush unless to be _kai-kai'd_. As for Tudor--"

"Look! look!" Joan cried in a low voice, pointing across the narrowstream to a slack eddy where a huge crocodile drifted like a log awash. "My! I wish I had my rifle. "

The crocodile, leaving scarcely a ripple behind, sank down anddisappeared. 

"A Binu man was in early this morning--for medicine, " Sheldon remarked. "It may have been that very brute that was responsible. A dozen of theBinu women were out, and the foremost one stepped right on a bigcrocodile. It was by the edge of the water, and he tumbled her over andgot her by the leg. All the other women got hold of her and pulled. Andin the tug of war she lost her leg, below the knee, he said. I gave hima stock of antiseptics. She'll pull through, I fancy. "

"Ugh--the filthy beasts, " Joan gulped shudderingly. "I hate them! Ihate them!"

"And yet you go diving among sharks, " Sheldon chided. 

"They're only fish-sharks. And as long as there are plenty of fish thereis no danger. It is only when they're famished that they're liable totake a bite. "

Sheldon shuddered inwardly at the swift vision that arose of the daintyflesh of her in a shark's many-toothed maw. 

"I wish you wouldn't, just the same, " he said slowly. "You acknowledgethere is a risk. "

"But that's half the fun of it, " she cried. 

A trite platitude about his not caring to lose her was on his lips, buthe refrained from uttering it. Another conclusion he had arrived at wasthat she was not to be nagged. Continual, or even occasional, remindersof his feeling for her would constitute a tactical error of no meandimensions. 

"Some for the book of verse, some for the simple life, and some for theshark's belly, " he laughed grimly, then added: "Just the same, I wish Icould swim as well as you. Maybe it would beget confidence such as youhave. "

"Do you know, I think it would be nice to be married to a man such as youseem to be becoming, " she remarked, with one of her abrupt changes thatalways astounded him. "I should think you could be trained into a verygood husband--you know, not one of the domineering kind, but one whoconsidered his wife was just as much an individual as himself and just asmuch a free agent. Really, you know, I think you are improving. "

She laughed and rode away, leaving him greatly cast down. If he hadthought there had been one bit of coyness in her words, one feminineflutter, one womanly attempt at deliberate lure and encouragement, hewould have been elated. But he knew absolutely that it was the boy, andnot the woman, who had so daringly spoken. 

Joan rode on among the avenues of young cocoanut-palms, saw a hornbill, followed it in its erratic flights to the high forest on the edge of theplantation, heard the cooing of wild pigeons and located them in thedeeper woods, followed the fresh trail of a wild pig for a distance, circled back, and took the narrow path for the bungalow that ran throughtwenty acres of uncleared cane. The grass was waist-high and higher, andas she rode along she remembered that Gogoomy was one of a gang of boysthat had been detailed to the grass-cutting. She came to where they hadbeen at work, but saw no signs of them. Her unshod horse made no soundon the soft, sandy footing, and a little further on she heard voicesproceeding from out of the grass. She reined in and listened. It wasGogoomy talking, and as she listened she gripped her bridle-rein tightlyand a wave of anger passed over her. 

"Dog he stop 'm along house, night-time he walk about, " Gogoomy wassaying, perforce in _beche-de-mer_ English, because he was talking toothers beside his own tribesmen. "You fella boy catch 'm one fella pig, put 'm _kai-kai_ belong him along big fella fish-hook. S'pose dog hewalk about catch 'm _kai-kai_, you fella boy catch 'm dog allee same oneshark. Dog he finish close up. Big fella marster sleep along big fellahouse. White Mary sleep along pickaninny house. One fella Adamu he stopalong outside pickaninny house. You fella boy finish 'm dog, finish 'mAdamu, finish 'm big fella marster, finish 'm White Mary, finish 'emaltogether. Plenty musket he stop, plenty powder, plenty tomahawk, plenty knife-fee, plenty porpoise teeth, plenty tobacco, plenty calico--myword, too much plenty everything we take 'm along whale-boat, washee {5}like hell, sun he come up we long way too much. "

"Me catch 'm pig sun he go down, " spoke up one whose thin falsetto voiceJoan recognized as belonging to Cosse, one of Gogoomy's tribesmen. 

"Me catch 'm dog, " said another. 

"And me catch 'm white fella Mary, " Gogoomy cried triumphantly. "Mecatch 'm Kwaque he die along him damn quick. "

This much Joan heard of the plan to murder, and then her rising wrathproved too much for her discretion. She spurred her horse into thegrass, crying, --

"What name you fella boy, eh? What name?"

They arose, scrambling and scattering, and to her surprise she saw therewere a dozen of them. As she looked in their glowering faces and notedthe heavy, two-foot, hacking cane-knives in their hands, she becamesuddenly aware of the rashness of her act. If only she had had herrevolver or a rifle, all would have been well. But she had carelesslyventured out unarmed, and she followed the glance of Gogoomy to her waistand saw the pleased flash in his eyes as he perceived the absence of thedreadful man-killing revolver. 

The first article in the Solomon Islands code for white men was never toshow fear before a native, and Joan tried to carry off the situation incavalier fashion. 

"Too much talk along you fella boy, " she said severely. "Too much talk, too little work. Savvee?"

Gogoomy made no reply, but, apparently shifting weight, he slid one footforward. The other boys, spread fan-wise about her, were also slidingforward, the cruel cane-knives in their hands advertising theirintention. 

"You cut 'm grass!" she commanded imperatively. 

But Gogoomy slid his other foot forward. She measured the distance withher eye. It would be impossible to whirl her horse around and get away. She would be chopped down from behind. 

And in that tense moment the faces of all of them were imprinted on hermind in an unforgettable picture--one of them, an old man, with torn anddistended ear-lobes that fell to his chest; another, with the broadflattened nose of Africa, and with withered eyes so buried under frowningbrows that nothing but the sickly, yellowish-looking whites could beseen; a third, thick-lipped and bearded with kinky whiskers; andGogoomy--she had never realized before how handsome Gogoomy was in hismutinous and obstinate wild-animal way. There was a primitivearistocraticness about him that his fellows lacked. The lines of hisfigure were more rounded than theirs, the skin smooth, well oiled, andfree from disease. On his chest, suspended from a single string ofporpoise-teeth around his throat, hung a big crescent carved out ofopalescent pearl-shell. A row of pure white cowrie shells banded hisbrow. From his hair drooped a long, lone feather. Above the swellingcalf of one leg he wore, as a garter, a single string of white beads. Theeffect was dandyish in the extreme. A narrow gee-string completed hiscostume. Another man she saw, old and shrivelled, with puckered foreheadand a puckered face that trembled and worked with animal passion as inthe past she had noticed the faces of monkeys tremble and work. 

"Gogoomy, " she said sharply, "you no cut 'm grass, my word, I bang 'mhead belong you. "

His expression became a trifle more disdainful, but he did not answer. Instead, he stole a glance to right and left to mark how his fellows wereclosing about her. At the same moment he casually slipped his footforward through the grass for a matter of several inches. 

Joan was keenly aware of the desperateness of the situation. The onlyway out was through. She lifted her riding-whip threateningly, and atthe same moment drove in both spurs with her heels, rushing the startledhorse straight at Gogoomy. It all happened in an instant. Every cane-knife was lifted, and every boy save Gogoomy leaped for her. He swervedaside to avoid the horse, at the same time swinging his cane-knife in aslicing blow that would have cut her in twain. She leaned forward underthe flying steel, which cut through her riding-skirt, through the edge ofthe saddle, through the saddle cloth, and even slightly into the horseitself. Her right hand, still raised, came down, the thin whip whishingthrough the air. She saw the white, cooked mark of the weal clear acrossthe sullen, handsome face, and still what was practically in the sameinstant she saw the man with the puckered face, overridden, go downbefore her, and she heard his snarling and grimacing chatter-for all theworld like an angry monkey. Then she was free and away, heading thehorse at top speed for the house. 

Out of her sea-training she was able to appreciate Sheldon'sexecutiveness when she burst in on him with her news. Springing from thesteamer-chair in which he had been lounging while waiting for breakfast, he clapped his hands for the house-boys; and, while listening to her, hewas buckling on his cartridge-belt and running the mechanism of hisautomatic pistol. 

"Ornfiri, " he snapped out his orders, "you fella ring big fella bellstrong fella plenty. You finish 'm bell, you put 'm saddle on horse. Viaburi, you go quick house belong Seelee he stop, tell 'm plenty blackfella run away--ten fella two fella black fella boy. " He scribbled anote and handed it to Lalaperu. "Lalaperu, you go quick house belongwhite fella Marster Boucher. "

"That will head them back from the coast on both sides, " he explained toJoan. "And old Seelee will turn his whole village loose on their trackas well. "

In response to the summons of the big bell, Joan's Tahitians were thefirst to arrive, by their glistening bodies and panting chests showingthat they had run all the way. Some of the farthest-placed gangs wouldbe nearly an hour in arriving. 

Sheldon proceeded to arm Joan's sailors and deal out ammunition andhandcuffs. Adamu Adam, with loaded rifle, he placed on guard over thewhale-boats. Noa Noah, aided by Matapuu, were instructed to take chargeof the working-gangs as fast as they came in, to keep them amused, and toguard against their being stampeded into making a break themselves. Thefive other Tahitians were to follow Joan and Sheldon on foot. 

"I'm glad we unearthed that arsenal the other day, " Sheldon remarked asthey rode out of the compound gate. 

A hundred yards away they encountered one of the clearing gangs comingin. It was Kwaque's gang, but Sheldon looked in vain for him. 

"What name that fella Kwaque he no stop along you?" he demanded. 

A babel of excited voices attempted an answer. 

"Shut 'm mouth belong you altogether, " Sheldon commanded. 

He spoke roughly, living up to the role of the white man who must alwaysbe strong and dominant. 

"Here, you fella Babatani, you talk 'm mouth belong you. "

Babatani stepped forward in all the pride of one singled out from amonghis fellows. 

"Gogoomy he finish along Kwaque altogether, " was Babatani's explanation. "He take 'm head b'long him run like hell. "

In brief words, and with paucity of imagination, he described the murder, and Sheldon and Joan rode on. In the grass, where Joan had beenattacked, they found the little shrivelled man, still chattering andgrimacing, whom Joan had ridden down. The mare had plunged on his ankle, completely crushing it, and a hundred yards' crawl had convinced him ofthe futility of escape. To the last clearing-gang, from the farthestedge of the plantation, was given the task of carrying him in to thehouse. 

A mile farther on, where the runaways' trail led straight toward thebush, they encountered the body of Kwaque. The head had been hacked offand was missing, and Sheldon took it on faith that the body was Kwaque's. He had evidently put up a fight, for a bloody trail led away from thebody. 

Once they were well into the thick bush the horses had to be abandoned. Papehara was left in charge of them, while Joan and Sheldon and theremaining Tahitians pushed ahead on foot. The way led down through aswampy hollow, which was overflowed by the Berande River on occasion, andwhere the red trail of the murderers was crossed by a crocodile's trail. They had apparently caught the creature asleep in the sun and desistedlong enough from their flight to hack him to pieces. Here the woundedman had sat down and waited until they were ready to go on. 

An hour later, following along a wild-pig trail, Sheldon suddenly halted. The bloody tracks had ceased. The Tahitians cast out in the bush oneither side, and a cry from Utami apprised them of a find. Joan waitedtill Sheldon came back. 

"It's Mauko, " he said. "Kwaque did for him, and he crawled in there anddied. That's two accounted for. There are ten more. Don't you thinkyou've got enough of it?"

She nodded. 

"It isn't nice, " she said. "I'll go back and wait for you with thehorses. "

"But you can't go alone. Take two of the men. "

"Then I'll go on, " she said. "It would be foolish to weaken the pursuit, and I am certainly not tired. "

The trail bent to the right as though the runaways had changed their mindand headed for the Balesuna. But the trail still continued to bend tothe right till it promised to make a loop, and the point of intersectionseemed to be the edge of the plantation where the horses had been left. Crossing one of the quiet jungle spaces, where naught moved but avelvety, twelve-inch butterfly, they heard the sound of shots. 

"Eight, " Joan counted. "It was only one gun. It must be Papehara. "

They hurried on, but when they reached the spot they were in doubt. Thetwo horses stood quietly tethered, and Papehara, squatted on his hams, was having a peaceful smoke. Advancing toward him, Sheldon tripped on abody that lay in the grass, and as he saved himself from falling his eyeslighted on a second. Joan recognized this one. It was Cosse, one ofGogoomy's tribesmen, the one who had promised to catch at sunset the pigthat was to have baited the hook for Satan. 

"No luck, Missie, " was Papehara's greeting, accompanied by a disconsolateshake of the head. "Catch only two boy. I have good shot at Gogoomy, only I miss. "

"But you killed them, " Joan chided. "You must catch them alive. "

The Tahitian smiled. 

"How?" he queried. "I am have a smoke. I think about Tahiti, andbreadfruit, and jolly good time at Bora Bora. Quick, just like that, tenboy he run out of bush for me. Each boy have long knife. Gogoomy havelong knife one hand, and Kwaque's head in other hand. I no stop to catch'm alive. I shoot like hell. How you catch 'm alive, ten boy, ten longknife, and Kwaque's head?"

The scattered paths of the different boys, where they broke back afterthe disastrous attempt to rush the Tahitian, soon led together. Theytraced it to the Berande, which the runaways had crossed with the clearintention of burying themselves in the huge mangrove swamp that laybeyond. 

"There is no use our going any farther, " Sheldon said. "Seelee will turnout his village and hunt them out of that. They'll never get past him. All we can do is to guard the coast and keep them from breaking back onthe plantation and running amuck. Ah, I thought so. "

Against the jungle gloom of the farther shore, coming from down stream, asmall canoe glided. So silently did it move that it was more like anapparition. Three naked blacks dipped with noiseless paddles. Long-hafted, slender, bone-barbed throwing-spears lay along the gunwaleof the canoe, while a quiverful of arrows hung on each man's back. Theeyes of the man-hunters missed nothing. They had seen Sheldon and Joanfirst, but they gave no sign. Where Gogoomy and his followers hademerged from the river, the canoe abruptly stopped, then turned anddisappeared into the deeper mangrove gloom. A second and a third canoecame around the bend from below, glided ghostlike to the crossing of therunaways, and vanished in the mangroves. 

"I hope there won't be any more killing, " Joan said, as they turned theirhorses homeward. 

"I don't think so, " Sheldon assured her. "My understanding with oldSeelee is that he is paid only for live boys; so he is very careful. "

CHAPTER XXIII--A MESSAGE FROM THE BUSH

Never had runaways from Berande been more zealously hunted. The deeds ofGogoomy and his fellows had been a bad example for the one hundred andfifty new recruits. Murder had been planned, a gang-boss had beenkilled, and the murderers had broken their contracts by fleeing to thebush. Sheldon saw how imperative it was to teach his new-caughtcannibals that bad examples were disastrous things to pattern after, andhe urged Seelee on night and day, while with the Tahitians he practicallylived in the bush, leaving Joan in charge of the plantation. To thenorth Boucher did good work, twice turning the fugitives back when theyattempted to gain the coast. 

One by one the boys were captured. In the first man-drive through themangrove swamp Seelee caught two. Circling around to the north, a thirdwas wounded in the thigh by Boucher, and this one, dragging behind in thechase, was later gathered in by Seelee's hunters. The three captives, heavily ironed, were exposed each day in the compound, as good examplesof what happened to bad examples, all for the edification of the sevenscore and ten half-wild Poonga-Poonga men. Then the _Minerva_, runningpast for Tulagi, was signalled to send a boat, and the three prisonerswere carried away to prison to await trial. 

Five were still at large, but escape was impossible. They could not getdown to the coast, nor dared they venture too far inland for fear of thewild bushmen. Then one of the five came in voluntarily and gave himselfup, and Sheldon learned that Gogoomy and two others were all that were atlarge. There should have been a fourth, but according to the man who hadgiven himself up, the fourth man had been killed and eaten. It had beenfear of a similar fate that had driven him in. He was a Malu man, fromnorth-western Malaita, as likewise had been the one that was eaten. Gogoomy's two other companions were from Port Adams. As for himself, theblack declared his preference for government trial and punishment tobeing eaten by his companions in the bush. 

"Close up Gogoomy _kai-kai_ me, " he said. "My word, me no like boy _kai-kai_ me. "

Three days later Sheldon caught one of the boys, helpless from swampfever, and unable to fight or run away. On the same day Seelee caughtthe second boy in similar condition. Gogoomy alone remained at large;and, as the pursuit closed in on him, he conquered his fear of thebushmen and headed straight in for the mountainous backbone of theisland. Sheldon with four Tahitians, and Seelee with thirty of hishunters, followed Gogoomy's trail a dozen miles into the opengrass-lands, and then Seelee and his people lost heart. He confessedthat neither he nor any of his tribe had ever ventured so far inlandbefore, and he narrated, for Sheldon's benefit, most horrible tales ofthe horrible bushmen. In the old days, he said, they had crossed thegrass-lands and attacked the salt-water natives; but since the coming ofthe white men to the coast they had remained in their interiorfastnesses, and no salt-water native had ever seen them again. 

"Gogoomy he finish along them fella bushmen, " he assured Sheldon. "Myword, he finish close up, _kai-kai_ altogether. "

So the expedition turned back. Nothing could persuade the coast nativesto venture farther, and Sheldon, with his four Tahitians, knew that itwas madness to go on alone. So he stood waist-deep in the grass andlooked regretfully across the rolling savannah and the soft-swellingfoothills to the Lion's Head, a massive peak of rock that upreared intothe azure from the midmost centre of Guadalcanar, a landmark used forbearings by every coasting mariner, a mountain as yet untrod by the footof a white man. 

That night, after dinner, Sheldon and Joan were playing billiards, whenSatan barked in the compound, and Lalaperu, sent to see, brought back atired and travel-stained native, who wanted to talk with the "big fellawhite marster. " It was only the man's insistence that procured himadmittance at such an hour. Sheldon went out on the veranda to see him, and at first glance at the gaunt features and wasted body of the man knewthat his errand was likely to prove important. Nevertheless, Sheldondemanded roughly, --

"What name you come along house belong me sun he go down?"

"Me Charley, " the man muttered apologetically and wearily. "Me stopalong Binu. "

"Ah, Binu Charley, eh? Well, what name you talk along me? What placebig fella marster along white man he stop?"

Joan and Sheldon together listened to the tale Binu Charley had brought. He described Tudor's expedition up the Balesuna; the dragging of theboats up the rapids; the passage up the river where it threaded the grass-lands; the innumerable washings of gravel by the white men in search ofgold; the first rolling foothills; the man-traps of spear-staked pits inthe jungle trails; the first meeting with the bushmen, who had never seentobacco, and knew not the virtues of smoking; their friendliness; thedeeper penetration of the interior around the flanks of the Lion's Head;the bush-sores and the fevers of the white men, and their madness intrusting the bushmen. 

"Allee time I talk along white fella marster, " he said. "Me talk, 'Thatfella bushman he look 'm eye belong him. He savvee too much. S'posemusket he stop along you, that fella bushman he too much good friendalong you. Allee time he look sharp eye belong him. S'pose musket he nostop along you, my word, that fella bushman he chop 'm off head belongyou. He _kai-kai_ you altogether. '"

But the patience of the bushmen had exceeded that of the white men. Theweeks had gone by, and no overt acts had been attempted. The bushmenswarmed in the camp in increasing numbers, and they were always makingpresents of yams and taro, of pig and fowl, and of wild fruits andvegetables. Whenever the gold-hunters moved their camp, the bushmenvolunteered to carry the luggage. And the white men waxed ever morecareless. They grew weary prospecting, and at the same time carryingtheir rifles and the heavy cartridge-belts, and the practice began ofleaving their weapons behind them in camp. 

"I tell 'm plenty fella white marster look sharp eye belong him. Andplenty fella white marster make 'm big laugh along me, say Binu Charleyallee same pickaninny--my word, they speak along me allee samepickaninny. "

Came the morning when Binu Charley noticed that the women and childrenhad disappeared. Tudor, at the time, was lying in a stupor with fever ina late camp five miles away, the main camp having moved on those fivemiles in order to prospect an outcrop of likely quartz. Binu Charley wasmidway between the two camps when the absence of the women and childrenstruck him as suspicious. 

"My word, " he said, "me t'ink like hell. Him black Mary, him pickaninny, walk about long way big bit. What name? Me savvee too much troubleclose up. Me fright like hell. Me run. My word, me run. "

Tudor, quite unconscious, was slung across his shoulder, and carried amile down the trail. Here, hiding new trail, Binu Charley had carriedhim for a quarter of a mile into the heart of the deepest jungle, andhidden him in a big banyan tree. Returning to try to save the rifles andpersonal outfit, Binu Charley had seen a party of bushmen trotting downthe trail, and had hidden in the bush. Here, and from the direction ofthe main camp, he had heard two rifle shots. And that was all. He hadnever seen the white men again, nor had he ventured near their old camp. He had gone back to Tudor, and hidden with him for a week, living on wildfruits and the few pigeons and cockatoos he had been able to shoot withbow and arrow. Then he had journeyed down to Berande to bring the news. Tudor, he said, was very sick, lying unconscious for days at a time, and, when in his right mind, too weak to help himself. 

"What name you no kill 'm that big fella marster?" Joan demanded. "Hehave 'm good fella musket, plenty calico, plenty tobacco, plenty knife-fee, and two fella pickaninny musket shoot quick, bang-bang-bang--justlike that. "

The black smiled cunningly. 

"Me savvee too much. S'pose me kill 'm big fella marster, bimeby plentywhite fella marster walk about Binu cross like hell. 'What name thisfellow musket?' those plenty fella white marster talk 'm along me. Myword, Binu Charley finish altogether. S'pose me kill 'm him, no goodalong me. Plenty white fella marster cross along me. S'pose me no kill'm him, bimeby he give me plenty tobacco, plenty calico, plentyeverything too much. "

"There is only the one thing to do, " Sheldon said to Joan. 

She drummed with her hand and waited, while Binu Charley gazed wearily ather with unblinking eyes. 

"I'll start the first thing in the morning, " Sheldon said. 

"We'll start, " she corrected. "I can get twice as much out of myTahitians as you can, and, besides, one white should never be alone undersuch circumstances. "

He shrugged his shoulders in token, not of consent, but of surrender, knowing the uselessness of attempting to argue the question with her, andconsoling himself with the reflection that heaven alone knew whatadventures she was liable to engage in if left alone on Berande for aweek. He clapped his hands, and for the next quarter of an hour thehouse-boys were kept busy carrying messages to the barracks. A man wassent to Balesuna village to command old Seelee's immediate presence. Aboat's-crew was started in a whale-boat with word for Boucher to comedown. Ammunition was issued to the Tahitians, and the storeroomoverhauled for a few days' tinned provisions. Viaburi turned yellow whentold that he was to accompany the expedition, and, to everybody'ssurprise, Lalaperu volunteered to take his place. 

Seelee arrived, proud in his importance that the great master of Berandeshould summon him in the night-time for council, and firm in his refusalto step one inch within the dread domain of the bushmen. As he said, ifhis opinion had been asked when the gold-hunters started, he would haveforetold their disastrous end. There was only one thing that happened toany one who ventured into the bushmen's territory, and that was that hewas eaten. And he would further say, without being asked, that ifSheldon went up into the bush he would be eaten too. 

Sheldon sent for a gang-boss and told him to bring ten of the biggest, best, and strongest Poonga-Poonga men. 

"Not salt-water boys, " Sheldon cautioned, "but bush boys--leg belong himstrong fella leg. Boy no savvee musket, no good. You bring 'm boy shootmusket strong fella. "

They were ten picked men that filed up on the veranda and stood in theglare of the lanterns. Their heavy, muscular legs advertised that theywere bushmen. Each claimed long experience in bush-fighting, most ofthem showed scars of bullet or spear-thrust in proof, and all were wildfor a chance to break the humdrum monotony of plantation labour by goingon a killing expedition. Killing was their natural vocation, not wood-cutting; and while they would not have ventured the Guadalcanar bushalone, with a white man like Sheldon behind them, and a white Mary suchas they knew Joan to be, they could expect a safe and delightful time. Besides, the great master had told them that the eight gigantic Tahitianswere going along. 

The Poonga-Poonga volunteers stood with glistening eyes and grinningfaces, naked save for their loin-cloths, and barbarously ornamented. Eachwore a flat, turtle-shell ring suspended through his nose, and eachcarried a clay pipe in an ear-hole or thrust inside a beaded bicepsarmlet. A pair of magnificent boar tusks graced the chest of one. Onthe chest of another hung a huge disc of polished fossil clam-shell. 

"Plenty strong fella fight, " Sheldon warned them in conclusion. 

They grinned and shifted delightedly. 

"S'pose bushmen _kai-kai_ along you?" he queried. 

"No fear, " answered their spokesman, one Koogoo, a strapping, thick-lipped Ethiopian-looking man. "S'pose Poonga-Poonga boy _kai-kai_bush-boy?"

Sheldon shook his head, laughing, and dismissed them, and went tooverhaul the dunnage-room for a small shelter tent for Joan's use. 

CHAPTER XXIV--IN THE BUSH

It was quite a formidable expedition that departed from Berande at breakof day next morning in a fleet of canoes and dinghies. There were Joanand Sheldon, with Binu Charley and Lalaperu, the eight Tahitians, and theten Poonga-Poonga men, each proud in the possession of a bright andshining modern rifle. In addition, there were two of the plantationboat's-crews of six men each. These, however, were to go no farther thanCarli, where water transportation ceased and where they were to wait withthe boats. Boucher remained behind in charge of Berande. 

By eleven in the morning the expedition arrived at Binu, a cluster oftwenty houses on the river bank. And from here thirty odd Binu menaccompanied them, armed with spears and arrows, chattering and grimacingwith delight at the warlike array. The long quiet stretches of rivergave way to swifter water, and progress was slower and more dogged. TheBalesuna grew shallow as well, and oftener were the loaded boats bumpedalong and half-lifted over the bottom. In places timber-falls blockedthe passage of the narrow stream, and the boats and canoes were portagedaround. Night brought them to Carli, and they had the satisfaction ofknowing that they had accomplished in one day what had required two daysfor Tudor's expedition. 

Here at Carli, next morning, half-way through the grass-lands, the boat's-crews were left, and with them the horde of Binu men, the boldest ofwhich held on for a bare mile and then ran scampering back. BinuCharley, however, was at the fore, and led the way onward into therolling foothills, following the trail made by Tudor and his men weeksbefore. That night they camped well into the hills and deep in thetropic jungle. The third day found them on the run-ways of thebushmen--narrow paths that compelled single file and that turned andtwisted with endless convolutions through the dense undergrowth. For themost part it was a silent forest, lush and dank, where only occasionallya wood-pigeon cooed or snow-white cockatoos laughed harshly in laboriousflight. 

Here, in the mid-morning, the first casualty occurred. Binu Charley haddropped behind for a time, and Koogoo, the Poonga-Poonga man who hadboasted that he would eat the bushmen, was in the lead. Joan and Sheldonheard the twanging thrum and saw Koogoo throw out his arms, at the sametime dropping his rifle, stumble forward, and sink down on his hands andknees. Between his naked shoulders, low down and to the left, appearedthe bone-barbed head of an arrow. He had been shot through and through. Cocked rifles swept the bush with nervous apprehension. But there was norustle, no movement; nothing but the humid oppressive silence. 

"Bushmen he no stop, " Binu Charley called out, the sound of his voicestartling more than one of them. "Allee same damn funny business. Thatfella Koogoo no look 'm eye belong him. He no savvee little bit. "

Koogoo's arms had crumpled under him, and he lay quivering where he hadfallen. Even as Binu Charley came to the front the stricken black'sbreath passed from him, and with a final convulsive stir he lay still. 

"Right through the heart, " Sheldon said, straightening up from thestooping examination. "It must have been a trap of some sort. "

He noticed Joan's white, tense face, and the wide eyes with which shestared at the wreck of what had been a man the minute before. 

"I recruited that boy myself, " she said in a whisper. "He came down outof the bush at Poonga-Poonga and right on board the _Martha_ and offeredhimself. And I was proud. He was my very first recruit--"

"My word! Look 'm that fella, " Binu Charley interrupted, brushing asidethe leafy wall of the run-way and exposing a bow so massive that no onebushman could have bent it. 

The Binu man traced out the mechanics of the trap, and exposed the hiddenfibre in the tangled undergrowth that at contact with Koogoo's foot hadreleased the taut bow. 

They were deep in the primeval forest. A dim twilight prevailed, for norandom shaft of sunlight broke through the thick roof of leaves andcreepers overhead. The Tahitians were plainly awed by the silence andgloom and mystery of the place and happening, but they showed themselvesdoggedly unafraid, and were for pushing on. The Poonga-Poonga men, onthe contrary, were not awed. They were bushmen themselves, and they wereused to this silent warfare, though the devices were different from thoseemployed by them in their own bush. Most awed of all were Joan andSheldon, but, being whites, they were not supposed to be subject to suchcommonplace emotions, and their task was to carry the situation off withcareless bravado as befitted "big fella marsters" of the dominant breed. 

Binu Charley took the lead as they pushed on, and trap after trap yieldedits secret lurking-place to his keen scrutiny. The way was beset with athousand annoyances, chiefest among which were thorns, cunninglyconcealed, that penetrated the bare feet of the invaders. Once, duringthe afternoon, Binu Charley barely missed being impaled in a staked pitthat undermined the trail. There were times when all stood still andwaited for half an hour or more while Binu Charley prospected suspiciousparts of the trail. Sometimes he was compelled to leave the trail andcreep and climb through the jungle so as to approach the man-traps frombehind; and on one occasion, in spite of his precaution, a spring-bow wasdischarged, the flying arrow barely clipping the shoulder of one of thewaiting Poonga-Poonga boys. 

Where a slight run-way entered the main one, Sheldon paused and askedBinu Charley if he knew where it led. 

"Plenty bush fella garden he stop along there short way little bit, " wasthe answer. "All right you like 'm go look 'm along. "

"'Walk 'm easy, " he cautioned, a few minutes later. "Close up, thatfella garden. S'pose some bush fella he stop, we catch 'm. "

Creeping ahead and peering into the clearing for a moment, Binu Charleybeckoned Sheldon to come on cautiously. Joan crouched beside him, andtogether they peeped out. The cleared space was fully half an acre inextent and carefully fenced against the wild pigs. Paw-paw and banana-trees were just ripening their fruit, while beneath grew sweet potatoesand yams. On one edge of the clearing was a small grass house, open-sided, a mere rain-shelter. In front of it, crouched on his hamsbefore a fire, was a gaunt and bearded bushman. The fire seemed to smokeexcessively, and in the thick of the smoke a round dark object hungsuspended. The bushman seemed absorbed in contemplation of this object. 

Warning them not to shoot unless the man was successfully escaping, Sheldon beckoned the Poonga-Poonga men forward. Joan smiledappreciatively to Sheldon. It was head-hunters against head-hunters. Theblacks trod noiselessly to their stations, which were arranged so thatthey could spring simultaneously into the open. Their faces were keenand serious, their eyes eloquent with the ecstasy of living that was uponthem--for this was living, this game of life and death, and to them itwas the only game a man should play, withal they played it in low andcowardly ways, killing from behind in the dim forest gloom and rarelycoming out into the open. 

Sheldon whispered the word, and the ten runners leaped forward--for BinuCharley ran with them. The bushman's keen ears warned him, and he sprangto his feet, bow and arrow in hand, the arrow fixed in the notch and thebow bending as he sprang. The man he let drive at dodged the arrow, andbefore he could shoot another his enemies were upon him. He was rolledover and over and dragged to his feet, disarmed and helpless. 

"Why, he's an ancient Babylonian!" Joan cried, regarding him. "He's anAssyrian, a Phoenician! Look at that straight nose, that narrow face, those high cheek-bones--and that slanting, oval forehead, and the beard, and the eyes, too. "

"And the snaky locks, " Sheldon laughed. 

The bushman was in mortal fear, led by all his training to expect nothingless than death; yet he did not cower away from them. Instead, hereturned their looks with lean self-sufficiency, and finally centred hisgaze upon Joan, the first white woman he had ever seen. 

"My word, bush fella _kai-kai_ along that fella boy, " Binu Charleyremarked. 

So stolid was his manner of utterance that Joan turned carelessly to seewhat had attracted his attention, and found herself face to face withGogoomy. At least, it was the head of Gogoomy--the dark object they hadseen hanging in the smoke. It was fresh--the smoke-curing had justbegun--and, save for the closed eyes, all the sullen handsomeness andanimal virility of the boy, as Joan had known it, was still to be seen inthe monstrous thing that twisted and dangled in the eddying smoke. 

Nor was Joan's horror lessened by the conduct of the Poonga-Poonga boys. On the instant they recognized the head, and on the instant rose theirwild hearty laughter as they explained to one another in shrill falsettovoices. Gogoomy's end was a joke. He had been foiled in his attempt toescape. He had played the game and lost. And what greater joke couldthere be than that the bushmen should have eaten him? It was thefunniest incident that had come under their notice in many a day. And tothem there was certainly nothing unusual nor bizarre in the event. Gogoomy had completed the life-cycle of the bushman. He had taken heads, and now his own head had been taken. He had eaten men, and now he hadbeen eaten by men. 

The Poonga-Poonga men's laughter died down, and they regarded thespectacle with glittering eyes and gluttonous expressions. TheTahitians, on the other hand, were shocked, and Adamu Adam was shakinghis head slowly and grunting forth his disgust. Joan was angry. Herface was white, but in each cheek was a vivid spray of red. Disgust hadbeen displaced by wrath, and her mood was clearly vengeful. 

Sheldon laughed. 

"It's nothing to be angry over, " he said. "You mustn't forget that hehacked off Kwaque's head, and that he ate one of his own comrades thatran away with him. Besides, he was born to it. He has but been eatenout of the same trough from which he himself has eaten. "

Joan looked at him with lips that trembled on the verge of speech. 

"And don't forget, " Sheldon added, "that he is the son of a chief, andthat as sure as fate his Port Adams tribesmen will take a white man'shead in payment. "

"It is all so ghastly ridiculous, " Joan finally said. 

"And--er--romantic, " he suggested slyly. 

She did not answer, and turned away; but Sheldon knew that the shaft hadgone home. 

"That fella boy he sick, belly belong him walk about, " Binu Charley said, pointing to the Poonga-Poonga man whose shoulder had been scratched bythe arrow an hour before. 

The boy was sitting down and groaning, his arms clasping his bent knees, his head drooped forward and rolling painfully back and forth. For fearof poison, Sheldon had immediately scarified the wound and injectedpermanganate of potash; but in spite of the precaution the shoulder wasswelling rapidly. 

"We'll take him on to where Tudor is lying, " Joan said. "The walkingwill help to keep up his circulation and scatter the poison. Adamu Adam, you take hold that boy. Maybe he will want to sleep. Shake him up. Ifhe sleep he die. "

The advance was more rapid now, for Binu Charley placed the captivebushman in front of him and made him clear the run-way of traps. Once, at a sharp turn where a man's shoulder would unavoidably brush against ascreen of leaves, the bushman displayed great caution as he spread theleaves aside and exposed the head of a sharp-pointed spear, so set thatthe casual passer-by would receive at the least a nasty scratch. 

"My word, " said Binu Charley, "that fella spear allee same devil-devil. "

He took the spear and was examining it when suddenly he made as if tostick it into the bushman. It was a bit of simulated playfulness, butthe bushman sprang back in evident fright. Poisoned the weapon wasbeyond any doubt, and thereafter Binu Charley carried it threateningly atthe prisoner's back. 

The sun, sinking behind a lofty western peak, brought on an early butlingering twilight, and the expedition plodded on through the evilforest--the place of mystery and fear, of death swift and silent andhorrible, of brutish appetite and degraded instinct, of human life thatstill wallowed in the primeval slime, of savagery degenerate and abysmal. No slightest breezes blew in the gloomy silence, and the air was staleand humid and suffocating. The sweat poured unceasingly from theirbodies, and in their nostrils was the heavy smell of rotting vegetationand of black earth that was a-crawl with fecund life. 

They turned aside from the run-way at a place indicated by Binu Charley, and, sometimes crawling on hands and knees through the damp black muck, at other times creeping and climbing through the tangled undergrowth adozen feet from the ground, they came to an immense banyan tree, half anacre in extent, that made in the innermost heart of the jungle a denserjungle of its own. From out of its black depths came the voice of a mansinging in a cracked, eerie voice. 

"My word, that big fella marster he no die!"

The singing stopped, and the voice, faint and weak, called out a hello. Joan answered, and then the voice explained. 

"I'm not wandering. I was just singing to keep my spirits up. Have yougot anything to eat?"

A few minutes saw the rescued man lying among blankets, while fires werebuilding, water was being carried, Joan's tent was going up, and Lalaperuwas overhauling the packs and opening tins of provisions. Tudor, havingpulled through the fever and started to mend, was still frightfully weakand very much starved. So badly swollen was he from mosquito-bites thathis face was unrecognizable, and the acceptance of his identity waslargely a matter of faith. Joan had her own ointments along, and sheprefaced their application by fomenting his swollen features with hotcloths. Sheldon, with an eye to the camp and the preparations for thenight, looked on and felt the pangs of jealousy at every contact of herhands with Tudor's face and body. Somehow, engaged in their healingministrations, they no longer seemed to him boy's hands, the hands ofJoan who had gazed at Gogoomy's head with pale cheeks sprayed with angryflame. The hands were now a woman's hands, and Sheldon grinned tohimself as his fancy suggested that some night he must lie outside themosquito-netting in order to have Joan apply soothing fomentations in themorning. 

CHAPTER XXV--THE HEAD-HUNTERS

The morning's action had been settled the night before. Tudor was tostay behind in his banyan refuge and gather strength while the expeditionproceeded. On the far chance that they might rescue even one solitarysurvivor of Tudor's party, Joan was fixed in her determination to pushon; and neither Sheldon nor Tudor could persuade her to remain quietly atthe banyan tree while Sheldon went on and searched. With Tudor, AdamuAdam and Arahu were to stop as guards, the latter Tahitian being selectedto remain because of a bad foot which had been brought about by steppingon one of the thorns concealed by the bushmen. It was evidently a slowpoison, and not too strong, that the bushmen used, for the wounded Poonga-Poonga man was still alive, and though his swollen shoulder was enormous, the inflammation had already begun to go down. He, too, remained withTudor. 

Binu Charley led the way, by proxy, however, for, by means of thepoisoned spear, he drove the captive bushman ahead. The run-way stillran through the dank and rotten jungle, and they knew no villages wouldbe encountered till rising ground was gained. They plodded on, pantingand sweating in the humid, stagnant air. They were immersed in a sea ofwanton, prodigal vegetation. All about them the huge-rooted treesblocked their footing, while coiled and knotted climbers, of the girth ofa man's arm, were thrown from lofty branch to lofty branch, or hung intangled masses like so many monstrous snakes. Lush-stalked plants, larger-leaved than the body of a man, exuded a sweaty moisture from alltheir surfaces. Here and there, banyan trees, like rocky islands, shouldered aside the streaming riot of vegetation between their crowdedcolumns, showing portals and passages wherein all daylight was lost andonly midnight gloom remained. Tree-ferns and mosses and a myriad otherparasitic forms jostled with gay-coloured fungoid growths for room tolive, and the very atmosphere itself seemed to afford clinging space toairy fairy creepers, light and delicate as gem-dust, tremulous withmicroscopic blooms. Pale-golden and vermilion orchids flaunted theirunhealthy blossoms in the golden, dripping sunshine that filtered throughthe matted roof. It was the mysterious, evil forest, a charnel house ofsilence, wherein naught moved save strange tiny birds--the strangeness ofthem making the mystery more profound, for they flitted on noiselesswings, emitting neither song nor chirp, and they were mottled with morbidcolours, having all the seeming of orchids, flying blossoms of sicknessand decay. 

He was caught by surprise, fifteen feet in the air above the path, in theforks of a many-branched tree. All saw him as he dropped like a shadow, naked as on his natal morn, landing springily on his bent knees, and likea shadow leaping along the run-way. It was hard for them to realize thatit was a man, for he seemed a weird jungle spirit, a goblin of theforest. Only Binu Charley was not perturbed. He flung his poisonedspear over the head of the captive at the flitting form. It was a mightycast, well intended, but the shadow, leaping, received the spearharmlessly between the legs, and, tripping upon it, was flung sprawling. Before he could get away, Binu Charley was upon him, clutching him by hissnow-white hair. He was only a young man, and a dandy at that, his faceblackened with charcoal, his hair whitened with wood-ashes, with thefreshly severed tail of a wild pig thrust through his perforated nose, and two more thrust through his ears. His only other ornament was anecklace of human finger-bones. At sight of their other prisoner hechattered in a high querulous falsetto, with puckered brows and troubled, wild-animal eyes. He was disposed of along the middle of the line, oneof the Poonga-Poonga men leading him at the end of a length of bark-rope. 

The trail began to rise out of the jungle, dipping at times intofestering hollows of unwholesome vegetation, but rising more and moreover swelling, unseen hill-slopes or climbing steep hog-backs and rockyhummocks where the forest thinned and blue patches of sky appearedoverhead. 

"Close up he stop, " Binu Charley warned them in a whisper. 

Even as he spoke, from high overhead came the deep resonant boom of avillage drum. But the beat was slow, there was no panic in the sound. They were directly beneath the village, and they could hear the crowingof roosters, two women's voices raised in brief dispute, and, once, thecrying of a child. The run-way now became a deeply worn path, rising sosteeply that several times the party paused for breath. The path neverwidened, and in places the feet and the rains of generations had scouredit till it was sunken twenty feet beneath the surface. 

"One man with a rifle could hold it against a thousand, " Sheldonwhispered to Joan. "And twenty men could hold it with spears andarrows. "

They came out on the village, situated on a small, upland plateau, grass-covered, and with only occasional trees. There was a wild chorus ofwarning cries from the women, who scurried out of the grass houses, andlike frightened quail dived over the opposite edge of the clearing, gathering up their babies and children as they ran. At the same timespears and arrows began to fall among the invaders. At Sheldon'scommand, the Tahitians and Poonga-Poonga men got into action with theirrifles. The spears and arrows ceased, the last bushman disappeared, andthe fight was over almost as soon as it had begun. On their own side noone had been hurt, while half a dozen bushmen had been killed. Thesealone remained, the wounded having been carried off. The Tahitians andPoonga-Poonga men had warmed up and were for pursuit, but this Sheldonwould not permit. To his pleased surprise, Joan backed him up in thedecision; for, glancing at her once during the firing, he had seen herwhite face, like a glittering sword in its fighting intensity, thenostrils dilated, the eyes bright and steady and shining. 

"Poor brutes, " she said. "They act only according to their natures. Toeat their kind and take heads is good morality for them. "

"But they should be taught not to take white men's heads, " Sheldonargued. 

She nodded approval, and said, "If we find one head we'll burn thevillage. Hey, you, Charley! What fella place head he stop?"

"S'pose he stop along devil-devil house, " was the answer. "That bigfella house, he devil-devil. "

It was the largest house in the village, ambitiously ornamented withfancy-plaited mats and king-posts carved into obscene and monstrous formshalf-human and half-animal. Into it they went, in the obscure lightstumbling across the sleeping-logs of the village bachelors and knockingtheir heads against strings of weird votive-offerings, dried andshrivelled, that hung from the roof-beams. On either side were rudegods, some grotesquely carved, others no more than shapeless logs swathedin rotten and indescribably filthy matting. The air was mouldy and heavywith decay, while strings of fish-tails and of half-cleaned dog andcrocodile skulls did not add to the wholesomeness of the place. 

In the centre, crouched before a slow-smoking fire, in the littered ashesof a thousand fires, was an old man who blinked apathetically at theinvaders. He was extremely old--so old that his withered skin hung abouthim in loose folds and did not look like skin. His hands were bonyclaws, his emaciated face a sheer death's-head. His task, it seemed, wasto tend the fire, and while he blinked at them he added to it a handfulof dead and mouldy wood. And hung in the smoke they found the object oftheir search. Joan turned and stumbled out hastily, deathly sick, reeling into the sunshine and clutching at the air for support. 

"See if all are there, " she called back faintly, and tottered aimlesslyon for a few steps, breathing the air in great draughts and trying toforget the sight she had seen. 

Upon Sheldon fell the unpleasant task of tallying the heads. They wereall there, nine of them, white men's heads, the faces of which he hadbeen familiar with when their owners had camped in Berande compound andset up the poling-boats. Binu Charley, hugely interested, lent a hand, turning the heads around for identification, noting the hatchet-strokes, and remarking the distorted expressions. The Poonga-Poonga men gloatedas usual, and as usual the Tahitians were shocked and angry, several ofthem cursing and muttering in undertones. So angry was Matapuu, that hestrode suddenly over to the fire-tender and kicked him in the ribs, whereupon the old savage emitted an appalling squeal, pig-like in itswild-animal fear, and fell face downward in the ashes and lay quiveringin momentary expectation of death. 

Other heads, thoroughly sun-dried and smoke-cured, were found inabundance, but, with two exceptions, they were the heads of blacks. Sothis was the manner of hunting that went on in the dark and evil forest, Sheldon thought, as he regarded them. The atmosphere of the place wassickening, yet he could not forbear to pause before one of Binu Charley'sfinds. 

"Me savvee black Mary, me savvee white Mary, " quoth Binu Charley. "Me nosavvee that fella Mary. What name belong him?"

Sheldon looked. Ancient and withered, blackened by many years of thesmoke of the devil-devil house, nevertheless the shrunken, mummy-likeface was unmistakably Chinese. How it had come there was the mystery. Itwas a woman's head, and he had never heard of a Chinese woman in thehistory of the Solomons. From the ears hung two-inch-long ear-rings, andat Sheldon's direction the Binu man rubbed away the accretions of smokeand dirt, and from under his fingers appeared the polished green of jade, the sheen of pearl, and the warm red of Oriental gold. The other head, equally ancient, was a white man's, as the heavy blond moustache, twistedand askew on the shrivelled upper lip, gave sufficient advertisement; andSheldon wondered what forgotten beche-de-mer fisherman or sandalwoodtrader had gone to furnish that ghastly trophy. 

Telling Binu Charley to remove the ear-rings, and directing the Poonga-Poonga men to carry out the old fire-tender, Sheldon cleared the devil-devil house and set fire to it. Soon every house was blazing merrily, while the ancient fire-tender sat upright in the sunshine blinking at thedestruction of his village. From the heights above, where were evidentlyother villages, came the booming of drums and a wild blowing ofwar-conchs; but Sheldon had dared all he cared to with his smallfollowing. Besides, his mission was accomplished. Every member ofTudor's expedition was accounted for; and it was a long, dark way out ofthe head-hunters' country. Releasing their two prisoners, who leapedaway like startled deer, they plunged down the steep path into thesteaming jungle. 

Joan, still shocked by what she had seen, walked on in front of Sheldon, subdued and silent. At the end of half an hour she turned to him with awan smile and said, --

"I don't think I care to visit the head-hunters any more. It'sadventure, I know; but there is such a thing as having too much of a goodthing. Riding around the plantation will henceforth be good enough forme, or perhaps salving another _Martha_; but the bushmen of Guadalcanarneed never worry for fear that I shall visit them again. I shall havenightmares for months to come, I know I shall. Ugh!--the horrid beasts!"

That night found them back in camp with Tudor, who, while improved, wouldstill have to be carried down on a stretcher. The swelling of the Poonga-Poonga man's shoulder was going down slowly, but Arahu still limped onhis thorn-poisoned foot. 

Two days later they rejoined the boats at Carli; and at high noon of thethird day, travelling with the current and shooting the rapids, theexpedition arrived at Berande. Joan, with a sigh, unbuckled her revolver-belt and hung it on the nail in the living-room, while Sheldon, who hadbeen lurking about for the sheer joy of seeing her perform thatparticular home-coming act, sighed, too, with satisfaction. But the home-coming was not all joy to him, for Joan set about nursing Tudor, andspent much time on the veranda where he lay in the hammock under themosquito-netting. 

CHAPTER XXVI--BURNING DAYLIGHT

The ten days of Tudor's convalescence that followed were peaceful days onBerande. The work of the plantation went on like clock-work. With thecrushing of the premature outbreak of Gogoomy and his following, allinsubordination seemed to have vanished. Twenty more of the old-timeboys, their term of service up, were carried away by the _Martha_, andthe fresh stock of labour, treated fairly, was proving of excellentquality. As Sheldon rode about the plantation, acknowledging to himselfthe comfort and convenience of a horse and wondering why he had notthought of getting one himself, he pondered the various improvements forwhich Joan was responsible--the splendid Poonga-Poonga recruits; thefruits and vegetables; the _Martha_ herself, snatched from the sea for asong and earning money hand over fist despite old Kinross's slow and safemethod of running her; and Berande, once more financially secure, approaching each day nearer the dividend-paying time, and growing eachday as the black toilers cleared the bush, cut the cane-grass, andplanted more cocoanut palms. 

In these and a thousand ways Sheldon was made aware of how much he wasindebted for material prosperity to Joan--to the slender, level-browedgirl with romance shining out of her gray eyes and adventure shoutingfrom the long-barrelled Colt's on her hip, who had landed on the beachthat piping gale, along with her stalwart Tahitian crew, and who hadentered his bungalow to hang with boy's hands her revolver-belt and Baden-Powell hat on the nail by the billiard table. He forgot all the earlyexasperations, remembering only her charms and sweetnesses and gloryingmuch in the traits he at first had disliked most--her boyishness andadventurousness, her delight to swim and risk the sharks, her desire togo recruiting, her love of the sea and ships, her sharp authoritativewords when she launched the whale-boat and, with firestick in one handand dynamite-stick in the other, departed with her picturesque crew toshoot fish in the Balesuna; her super-innocent disdain for the commonestconventions, her juvenile joy in argument, her fluttering, wild-bird loveof freedom and mad passion for independence. All this he now loved, andhe no longer desired to tame and hold her, though the paradox was thewinning of her without the taming and the holding. 

There were times when he was dizzy with thought of her and love of her, when he would stop his horse and with closed eyes picture her as he hadseen her that first day, in the stern-sheets of the whale-boat, dashingmadly in to shore and marching belligerently along his veranda to remarkthat it was pretty hospitality this letting strangers sink or swim in hisfront yard. And as he opened his eyes and urged his horse onward, hewould ponder for the ten thousandth time how possibly he was ever to holdher when she was so wild and bird-like that she was bound to flutter outand away from under his hand. 

It was patent to Sheldon that Tudor had become interested in Joan. Thatconvalescent visitor practically lived on the veranda, though, whilepreposterously weak and shaky in the legs, he had for some time insistedon coming in to join them at the table at meals. The first warningSheldon had of the other's growing interest in the girl was when Tudoreased down and finally ceased pricking him with his habitual sharpness ofquip and speech. This cessation of verbal sparring was like the breakingoff of diplomatic relations between countries at the beginning of war, and, once Sheldon's suspicions were aroused, he was not long in findingother confirmations. Tudor too obviously joyed in Joan's presence, tooobviously laid himself out to amuse and fascinate her with his ownglorious and adventurous personality. Often, after his morning ride overthe plantation, or coming in from the store or from inspection of thecopra-drying, Sheldon found the pair of them together on the veranda, Joan listening, intent and excited, and Tudor deep in some recital ofpersonal adventure at the ends of the earth. 

Sheldon noticed, too, the way Tudor looked at her and followed her aboutwith his eyes, and in those eyes he noted a certain hungry look, and onthe face a certain wistful expression; and he wondered if on his own facehe carried a similar involuntary advertisement. He was sure of severalthings: first, that Tudor was not the right man for Joan and could notpossibly make her permanently happy; next, that Joan was too sensible agirl really to fall in love with a man of such superficial stamp; and, finally, that Tudor would blunder his love-making somehow. And at thesame time, with true lover's anxiety, Sheldon feared that the other mightsomehow fail to blunder, and win the girl with purely fortuitous andsuccessful meretricious show. But of the one thing Sheldon was sure:Tudor had no intimate knowledge of her and was unaware of how vital inher was her wildness and love of independence. That was where he wouldblunder--in the catching and the holding of her. And then, in spite ofall his certitude, Sheldon could not forbear wondering if his theories ofJoan might not be wrong, and if Tudor was not going the right way aboutafter all. 

The situation was very unsatisfactory and perplexing. Sheldon played thedifficult part of waiting and looking on, while his rival devoted himselfenergetically to reaching out and grasping at the fluttering prize. Then, again, Tudor had such an irritating way about him. It had become quiteelusive and intangible, now that he had tacitly severed diplomaticrelations; but Sheldon sensed what he deemed a growing antagonism andpromptly magnified it through the jealous lenses of his own lover's eyes. The other was an interloper. He did not belong to Berande, and now thathe was well and strong again it was time for him to go. Instead ofwhich, and despite the calling in of the mail steamer bound for Sydney, Tudor had settled himself down comfortably, resumed swimming, wentdynamiting fish with Joan, spent hours with her hunting pigeons, trappingcrocodiles, and at target practice with rifle and revolver. 

But there were certain traditions of hospitality that prevented Sheldonfrom breathing a hint that it was time for his guest to take himself off. And in similar fashion, feeling that it was not playing the game, hefought down the temptation to warn Joan. Had he known anything, not tooserious, to Tudor's detriment, he would have been unable to utter it; butthe worst of it was that he knew nothing at all against the man. Thatwas the confounded part of it, and sometimes he was so baffled andoverwrought by his feelings that he assumed a super-judicial calm andassured himself that his dislike of Tudor was a matter of unsubstantialprejudice and jealousy. 

Outwardly, he maintained a calm and smiling aspect. The work of theplantation went on. The _Martha_ and the _Flibberty-Gibbet_ came andwent, as did all the miscellany of coasting craft that dropped in to waitfor a breeze and have a gossip, a drink or two, and a game of billiards. Satan kept the compound free of niggers. Boucher came down regularly inhis whale-boat to pass Sunday. Twice a day, at breakfast and dinner, Joan and Sheldon and Tudor met amicably at table, and the evenings wereas amicably spent on the veranda. 

And then it happened. Tudor made his blunder. Never divining Joan'sfluttering wildness, her blind hatred of restraint and compulsion, herabhorrence of mastery by another, and mistaking the warmth and enthusiasmin her eyes (aroused by his latest tale) for something tender andacquiescent, he drew her to him, laid a forcible detaining arm about herwaist, and misapprehended her frantic revolt for an exhibition ofmaidenly reluctance. It occurred on the veranda, after breakfast, andSheldon, within, pondering a Sydney wholesaler's catalogue and making uphis orders for next steamer-day, heard the sharp exclamation of Joan, followed by the equally sharp impact of an open hand against a cheek. Jerking free from the arm that was all distasteful compulsion, Joan hadslapped Tudor's face resoundingly and with far more vim and weight thanwhen she had cuffed Gogoomy. 

Sheldon had half-started up, then controlled himself and sunk back in hischair, so that by the time Joan entered the door his composure wasrecovered. Her right forearm was clutched tightly in her left hand, while the white cheeks, centred with the spots of flaming red, remindedhim of the time he had first seen her angry. 

"He hurt my arm, " she blurted out, in reply to his look of inquiry. 

He smiled involuntarily. It was so like her, so like the boy she was, tocome running to complain of the physical hurt which had been done her. She was certainly not a woman versed in the ways of man and in the waysof handling man. The resounding slap she had given Tudor seemed stillechoing in Sheldon's ears, and as he looked at the girl before him cryingout that her arm was hurt, his smile grew broader. 

It was the smile that did it, convicting Joan in her own eyes of thesilliness of her cry and sending over her face the most amazing blush hehad ever seen. Throat, cheeks, and forehead flamed with the rush of theshamed blood. 

"He--he--" she attempted to vindicate her deeper indignation, thenwhirled abruptly away and passed out the rear door and down the steps. 

Sheldon sat and mused. He was a trifle angry, and the more he dwelt uponthe happening the angrier he grew. If it had been any woman except Joanit would have been amusing. But Joan was the last woman in the world toattempt to kiss forcibly. The thing smacked of the back stairs anyway--asordid little comedy perhaps, but to have tried it on Joan was nothingless than sacrilege. The man should have had better sense. Then, too, Sheldon was personally aggrieved. He had been filched of something thathe felt was almost his, and his lover's jealousy was rampant at thoughtof this forced familiarity. 

It was while in this mood that the screen door banged loudly behind theheels of Tudor, who strode into the room and paused before him. Sheldonwas unprepared, though it was very apparent that the other was furious. 

"Well?" Tudor demanded defiantly. 

And on the instant speech rushed to Sheldon's lips. 

"I hope you won't attempt anything like it again, that's all--except thatI shall be only too happy any time to extend to you the courtesy of mywhale-boat. It will land you in Tulagi in a few hours. "

"As if that would settle it, " was the retort. 

"I don't understand, " Sheldon said simply. 

"Then it is because you don't wish to understand. "

"Still I don't understand, " Sheldon said in steady, level tones. "Allthat is clear to me is that you are exaggerating your own blunder intosomething serious. "

Tudor grinned maliciously and replied, --

"It would seem that you are doing the exaggerating, inviting me to leavein your whale-boat. It is telling me that Berande is not big enough forthe pair of us. Now let me tell you that the Solomon Islands is not bigenough for the pair of us. This thing's got to be settled between us, and it may as well be settled right here and now. "

"I can understand your fire-eating manners as being natural to you, "Sheldon went on wearily, "but why you should try them on me is what Ican't comprehend. You surely don't want to quarrel with me. "

"I certainly do. "

"But what in heaven's name for?"

Tudor surveyed him with withering disgust. 

"You haven't the soul of a louse. I suppose any man could make love toyour wife--"

"But I have no wife, " Sheldon interrupted. 

"Then you ought to have. The situation is outrageous. You might atleast marry her, as I am honourably willing to do. "

For the first time Sheldon's rising anger boiled over. 

"You--" he began violently, then abruptly caught control of himself andwent on soothingly, "you'd better take a drink and think it over. That'smy advice to you. Of course, when you do get cool, after talking to mein this fashion you won't want to stay on any longer, so while you'regetting that drink I'll call the boat's-crew and launch a boat. You'llbe in Tulagi by eight this evening. "

He turned toward the door, as if to put his words into execution, but theother caught him by the shoulder and twirled him around. 

"Look here, Sheldon, I told you the Solomons were too small for the pairof us, and I meant it. "

"Is that an offer to buy Berande, lock, stock, and barrel?" Sheldonqueried. 

"No, it isn't. It's an invitation to fight. "

"But what the devil do you want to fight with me for?" Sheldon'sirritation was growing at the other's persistence. "I've no quarrel withyou. And what quarrel can you have with me? I have never interferedwith you. You were my guest. Miss Lackland is my partner. If you sawfit to make love to her, and somehow failed to succeed, why should youwant to fight with me? This is the twentieth century, my dear fellow, and duelling went out of fashion before you and I were born. "

"You began the row, " Tudor doggedly asserted. "You gave me to understandthat it was time for me to go. You fired me out of your house, in short. And then you have the cheek to want to know why I am starting the row. Itwon't do, I tell you. You started it, and I am going to see it through. "

Sheldon smiled tolerantly and proceeded to light a cigarette. But Tudorwas not to be turned aside. 

"You started this row, " he urged. 

"There isn't any row. It takes two to make a row, and I, for one, refuseto have anything to do with such tomfoolery. "

"You started it, I say, and I'll tell you why you started it. "

"I fancy you've been drinking, " Sheldon interposed. "It's the onlyexplanation I can find for your unreasonableness. "

"And I'll tell you why you started it. It wasn't silliness on your partto exaggerate this little trifle of love-making into something serious. Iwas poaching on your preserves, and you wanted to get rid of me. It wasall very nice and snug here, you and the girl, until I came along. Andnow you're jealous--that's it, jealousy--and want me out of it. But Iwon't go. "

"Then stay on by all means. I won't quarrel with you about it. Makeyourself comfortable. Stay for a year, if you wish. "

"She's not your wife, " Tudor continued, as though the other had notspoken. "A fellow has the right to make love to her unless she'syour--well, perhaps it was an error after all, due to ignorance, perfectly excusable, on my part. I might have seen it with half an eyeif I'd listened to the gossip on the beach. All Guvutu and Tulagi werelaughing about it. I was a fool, and I certainly made the mistake oftaking the situation on its assumed innocent face-value. "

So angry was Sheldon becoming that the face and form of the other seemedto vibrate and oscillate before his eyes. Yet outwardly Sheldon was calmand apparently weary of the discussion. 

"Please keep her out of the conversation, " he said. 

"But why should I?" was the demand. "The pair of you trapped me intomaking a fool of myself. How was I to know that everything was not allright? You and she acted as if everything were on the square. But myeyes are open now. Why, she played the outraged wife to perfection, slapped the transgressor and fled to you. Pretty good proof of what allthe beach has been saying. Partners, eh?--a business partnership? Gammonmy eye, that's what it is. "

Then it was that Sheldon struck out, coolly and deliberately, with allthe strength of his arm, and Tudor, caught on the jaw, fell sideways, crumpling as he did so and crushing a chair to kindling wood beneath theweight of his falling body. He pulled himself slowly to his feet, butdid not offer to rush. 

"Now will you fight?" Tudor said grimly. 

Sheldon laughed, and for the first time with true spontaneity. Theintrinsic ridiculousness of the situation was too much for his sense ofhumour. He made as if to repeat the blow, but Tudor, white of face, witharms hanging resistlessly at his sides, offered no defence. 

"I don't mean a fight with fists, " he said slowly. "I mean to a finish, to the death. You're a good shot with revolver and rifle. So am I. That's the way we'll settle it. "

"You have gone clean mad. You are a lunatic. "

"No, I'm not, " Tudor retorted. "I'm a man in love. And once again I askyou to go outside and settle it, with any weapons you choose. "

Sheldon regarded him for the first time with genuine seriousness, wondering what strange maggots could be gnawing in his brain to drive himto such unusual conduct. 

"But men don't act this way in real life, " Sheldon remarked. 

"You'll find I'm pretty real before you're done with me. I'm going tokill you to-day. "

"Bosh and nonsense, man. " This time Sheldon had lost his temper over thesuperficial aspects of the situation. "Bosh and nonsense, that's all itis. Men don't fight duels in the twentieth century. It's--it'santediluvian, I tell you. "

"Speaking of Joan--"

"Please keep her name out of it, " Sheldon warned him. 

"I will, if you'll fight. "

Sheldon threw up his arms despairingly. 

"Speaking of Joan--"

"Look out, " Sheldon warned again. 

"Oh, go ahead, knock me down. But that won't close my mouth. You canknock me down all day, but as fast as I get to my feet I'll speak of Joanagain. Now will you fight?"

"Listen to me, Tudor, " Sheldon began, with an effort at decisiveness. "Iam not used to taking from men a tithe of what I've already taken fromyou. "

"You'll take a lot more before the day's out, " was the answer. "I tellyou, you simply must fight. I'll give you a fair chance to kill me, butI'll kill you before the day's out. This isn't civilization. It's theSolomon Islands, and a pretty primitive proposition for all that. KingEdward and law and order are represented by the Commissioner at Tulagiand an occasional visiting gunboat. And two men and one woman is anequally primitive proposition. We'll settle it in the good old primitiveway. "

As Sheldon looked at him the thought came to his mind that after allthere might be something in the other's wild adventures over the earth. It required a man of that calibre, a man capable of obtruding a duel intoorderly twentieth century life, to find such wild adventures. 

"There's only one way to stop me, " Tudor went on. "I can't insult youdirectly, I know. You are too easy-going, or cowardly, or both, forthat. But I can narrate for you the talk of the beach--ah, that grindsyou, doesn't it? I can tell you what the beach has to say about you andthis young girl running a plantation under a business partnership. "

"Stop!" Sheldon cried, for the other was beginning to vibrate andoscillate before his eyes. "You want a duel. I'll give it to you. " Thenhis common-sense and dislike for the ridiculous asserted themselves, andhe added, "But it's absurd, impossible. "

"Joan and David--partners, eh? Joan and David--partners, " Tudor began toiterate and reiterate in a malicious and scornful chant. 

"For heaven's sake keep quiet, and I'll let you have your way, " Sheldoncried. "I never saw a fool so bent on his folly. What kind of a duelshall it be? There are no seconds. What weapons shall we use?"

Immediately Tudor's monkey-like impishness left him, and he was once morethe cool, self-possessed man of the world. 

"I've often thought that the ideal duel should be somewhat different fromthe conventional one, " he said. "I've fought several of that sort, youknow--"

"French ones, " Sheldon interrupted. 

"Call them that. But speaking of this ideal duel, here it is. Noseconds, of course, and no onlookers. The two principals alone arenecessary. They may use any weapons they please, from revolvers andrifles to machine guns and pompoms. They start a mile apart, and advanceon each other, taking advantage of cover, retreating, circling, feinting--anything and everything permissible. In short, the principalsshall hunt each other--"

"Like a couple of wild Indians?"

"Precisely, " cried Tudor, delighted. "You've got the idea. And Berandeis just the place, and this is just the right time. Miss Lackland willbe taking her siesta, and she'll think we are. We've got two hours forit before she wakes. So hurry up and come on. You start out from theBalesuna and I start from the Berande. Those two rivers are theboundaries of the plantation, aren't they? Very well. The field of theduel will be the plantation. Neither principal must go outside itsboundaries. Are you satisfied?"

"Quite. But have you any objections if I leave some orders?"

"Not at all, " Tudor acquiesced, the pink of courtesy now that his wishhad been granted. 

Sheldon clapped his hands, and the running house-boy hurried away tobring back Adamu Adam and Noa Noah. 

"Listen, " Sheldon said to them. "This man and me, we have one big fightto-day. Maybe he die. Maybe I die. If he die, all right. If I die, you two look after Missie Lackalanna. You take rifles, and you lookafter her daytime and night-time. If she want to talk with Mr. Tudor, all right. If she not want to talk, you make him keep away. Savvee?"

They grunted and nodded. They had had much to do with white men, and hadlearned never to question the strange ways of the strange breed. Ifthese two saw fit to go out and kill each other, that was their businessand not the business of the islanders, who took orders from them. Theystepped to the gun-rack, and each picked a rifle. 

"Better all Tahitian men have rifles, " suggested Adamu Adam. "Maybe bigtrouble come. "

"All right, you take them, " Sheldon answered, busy with issuing theammunition. 

They went to the door and down the steps, carrying the eight rifles totheir quarters. Tudor, with cartridge-belts for rifle and pistolstrapped around him, rifle in hand, stood impatiently waiting. 

"Come on, hurry up; we're burning daylight, " he urged, as Sheldonsearched after extra clips for his automatic pistol. 

Together they passed down the steps and out of the compound to the beach, where they turned their backs to each other, and each proceeded towardhis destination, their rifles in the hollows of their arms, Tudor walkingtoward the Berande and Sheldon toward the Balesuna. 

CHAPTER XXVII--MODERN DUELLING

Barely had Sheldon reached the Balesuna, when he heard the faint reportof a distant rifle and knew it was the signal of Tudor, giving noticethat he had reached the Berande, turned about, and was coming back. Sheldon fired his rifle into the air in answer, and in turn proceeded toadvance. He moved as in a dream, absent-mindedly keeping to the openbeach. The thing was so preposterous that he had to struggle to realizeit, and he reviewed in his mind the conversation with Tudor, trying tofind some clue to the common-sense of what he was doing. He did not wantto kill Tudor. Because that man had blundered in his love-making was noreason that he, Sheldon, should take his life. Then what was it allabout? True, the fellow had insulted Joan by his subsequent remarks andbeen knocked down for it, but because he had knocked him down was noreason that he should now try to kill him. 

In this fashion he covered a quarter of the distance between the tworivers, when it dawned upon him that Tudor was not on the beach at all. Of course not. He was advancing, according to the terms of theagreement, in the shelter of the cocoanut trees. Sheldon promptlyswerved to the left to seek similar shelter, when the faint crack of arifle came to his ears, and almost immediately the bullet, striking thehard sand a hundred feet beyond him, ricochetted and whined onward on asecond flight, convincing him that, preposterous and unreal as it was, itwas nevertheless sober fact. It had been intended for him. Yet eventhen it was hard to believe. He glanced over the familiar landscape andat the sea dimpling in the light but steady breeze. From the directionof Tulagi he could see the white sails of a schooner laying a tack acrosstoward Berande. Down the beach a horse was grazing, and he idly wonderedwhere the others were. The smoke rising from the copra-drying caught hiseyes, which roved on over the barracks, the tool-houses, the boat-sheds, and the bungalow, and came to rest on Joan's little grass house in thecorner of the compound. 

Keeping now to the shelter of the trees, he went forward another quarterof a mile. If Tudor had advanced with equal speed they should have cometogether at that point, and Sheldon concluded that the other wascircling. The difficulty was to locate him. The rows of trees, runningat right angles, enabled him to see along only one narrow avenue at atime. His enemy might be coming along the next avenue, or the next, toright or left. He might be a hundred feet away or half a mile. Sheldonplodded on, and decided that the old stereotyped duel was far simpler andeasier than this protracted hide-and-seek affair. He, too, triedcircling, in the hope of cutting the other's circle; but, withoutcatching a glimpse of him, he finally emerged upon a fresh clearing wherethe young trees, waist-high, afforded little shelter and less hiding. Just as he emerged, stepping out a pace, a rifle cracked to his right, and though he did not hear the bullet in passing, the thud of it came tohis ears when it struck a palm-trunk farther on. 

He sprang back into the protection of the larger trees. Twice he hadexposed himself and been fired at, while he had failed to catch a singleglimpse of his antagonist. A slow anger began to burn in him. It wasdeucedly unpleasant, he decided, this being peppered at; and nonsensicalas it really was, it was none the less deadly serious. There was noavoiding the issue, no firing in the air and getting over with it as inthe old-fashioned duel. This mutual man-hunt must keep up until one gotthe other. And if one neglected a chance to get the other, thatincreased the other's chance to get him. There could be no falsesentiment about it. Tudor had been a cunning devil when he proposed thissort of duel, Sheldon concluded, as he began to work along cautiously inthe direction of the last shot. 

When he arrived at the spot, Tudor was gone, and only his foot-printsremained, pointing out the course he had taken into the depths of theplantation. Once, ten minutes later, he caught a glimpse of Tudor, ahundred yards away, crossing the same avenue as himself but going in theopposite direction. His rifle half-leaped to his shoulder, but the otherwas gone. More in whim than in hope of result, grinning to himself as hedid so, Sheldon raised his automatic pistol and in two seconds sent eightshots scattering through the trees in the direction in which Tudor haddisappeared. Wishing he had a shot-gun, Sheldon dropped to the groundbehind a tree, slipped a fresh clip up the hollow butt of the pistol, threw a cartridge into the chamber, shoved the safety catch into place, and reloaded the empty clip. 

It was but a short time after that that Tudor tried the same trick onhim, the bullets pattering about him like spiteful rain, thudding intothe palm trunks, or glancing off in whining ricochets. The last bulletof all, making a double ricochet from two different trees and losing mostof its momentum, struck Sheldon a sharp blow on the forehead and droppedat his feet. He was partly stunned for the moment, but on investigationfound no greater harm than a nasty lump that soon rose to the size of apigeon's egg. 

The hunt went on. Once, coming to the edge of the grove near thebungalow, he saw the house-boys and the cook, clustered on the backveranda and peering curiously among the trees, talking and laughing withone another in their queer falsetto voices. Another time he came upon aworking-gang busy at hoeing weeds. They scarcely noticed him when hecame up, though they knew thoroughly well what was going on. It was noaffair of theirs that the enigmatical white men should be out trying tokill each other, and whatever interest in the proceedings might be theirsthey were careful to conceal it from Sheldon. He ordered them tocontinue hoeing weeds in a distant and out-of-the-way corner, and went onwith the pursuit of Tudor. 

Tiring of the endless circling, Sheldon tried once more to advancedirectly on his foe, but the latter was too crafty, taking advantage ofhis boldness to fire a couple of shots at him, and slipping away on somechanged and continually changing course. For an hour they dodged andturned and twisted back and forth and around, and hunted each other amongthe orderly palms. They caught fleeting glimpses of each other andchanced flying shots which were without result. On a grassy shelterbehind a tree, Sheldon came upon where Tudor had rested and smoked acigarette. The pressed grass showed where he had sat. To one side laythe cigarette stump and the charred match which had lighted it. In frontlay a scattering of bright metallic fragments. Sheldon recognized theirsignificance. Tudor was notching his steel-jacketed bullets, or cuttingthem blunt, so that they would spread on striking--in short, he wasmaking them into the vicious dum-dum prohibited in modern warfare. Sheldon knew now what would happen to him if a bullet struck his body. Itwould leave a tiny hole where it entered, but the hole where it emergedwould be the size of a saucer. 

He decided to give up the pursuit, and lay down in the grass, protectedright and left by the row of palms, with on either hand the long avenueextending. This he could watch. Tudor would have to come to him or elsethere would be no termination of the affair. He wiped the sweat from hisface and tied the handkerchief around his neck to keep off the stinginggnats that lurked in the grass. Never had he felt so great a disgust forthe thing called "adventure. " Joan had been bad enough, with her Baden-Powell and long-barrelled Colt's; but here was this newcomer also lookingfor adventure, and finding it in no other way than by lugging a peace-loving planter into an absurd and preposterous bush-whacking duel. Ifever adventure was well damned, it was by Sheldon, sweating in thewindless grass and fighting gnats, the while he kept close watch up anddown the avenue. 

Then Tudor came. Sheldon happened to be looking in his direction at themoment he came into view, peering quickly up and down the avenue beforehe stepped into the open. Midway he stopped, as if debating what courseto pursue. He made a splendid mark, facing his concealed enemy at twohundred yards' distance. Sheldon aimed at the centre of his chest, thendeliberately shifted the aim to his right shoulder, and, with thethought, "That will put him out of business, " pulled the trigger. Thebullet, driving with momentum sufficient to perforate a man's body a miledistant, struck Tudor with such force as to pivot him, whirling him halfaround by the shock of its impact and knocking him down. 

"'Hope I haven't killed the beggar, " Sheldon muttered aloud, springing tohis feet and running forward. 

A hundred feet away all anxiety on that score was relieved by Tudor, whomade shift with his left hand, and from his automatic pistol hurled arain of bullets all around Sheldon. The latter dodged behind a palmtrunk, counting the shots, and when the eighth had been fired he rushedin on the wounded man. He kicked the pistol out of the other's hand, andthen sat down on him in order to keep him down. 

"Be quiet, " he said. "I've got you, so there's no use struggling. "

Tudor still attempted to struggle and to throw him off. 

"Keep quiet, I tell you, " Sheldon commanded. "I'm satisfied with theoutcome, and you've got to be. So you might as well give in and callthis affair closed. "

Tudor reluctantly relaxed. 

"Rather funny, isn't it, these modern duels?" Sheldon grinned down athim as he removed his weight. "Not a bit dignified. If you'd struggleda moment longer I'd have rubbed your face in the earth. I've a good mindto do it anyway, just to teach you that duelling has gone out of fashion. Now let us see to your injuries. "

"You only got me that last, " Tudor grunted sullenly, "lying in ambushlike--"

"Like a wild Indian. Precisely. You've caught the idea, old man. "Sheldon ceased his mocking and stood up. "You lie there quietly until Isend back some of the boys to carry you in. You're not seriously hurt, and it's lucky for you I didn't follow your example. If you had beenstruck with one of your own bullets, a carriage and pair would have beennone too large to drive through the hole it would have made. As it is, you're drilled clean--a nice little perforation. All you need isantiseptic washing and dressing, and you'll be around in a month. Nowtake it easy, and I'll send a stretcher for you. "

CHAPTER XXVIII--CAPITULATION

When Sheldon emerged from among the trees he found Joan waiting at thecompound gate, and he could not fail to see that she was visiblygladdened at the sight of him. 

"I can't tell you how glad I am to see you, " was her greeting. "What'sbecome of Tudor? That last flutter of the automatic wasn't nice tolisten to. Was it you or Tudor?"

"So you know all about it, " he answered coolly. "Well, it was Tudor, buthe was doing it left-handed. He's down with a hole in his shoulder. " Helooked at her keenly. "Disappointing, isn't it?" he drawled. 

"How do you mean?"

"Why, that I didn't kill him. "

"But I didn't want him killed just because he kissed me, " she cried. 

"Oh, he did kiss you!" Sheldon retorted, in evident surprise. "I thoughtyou said he hurt your arm. "

"One could call it a kiss, though it was only on the end of the nose. "She laughed at the recollection. "But I paid him back for that myself. Iboxed his face for him. And he did hurt my arm. It's black and blue. Look at it. "

She pulled up the loose sleeve of her blouse, and he saw the bruisedimprints of two fingers. 

Just then a gang of blacks came out from among the trees carrying thewounded man on a rough stretcher. 

"Romantic, isn't it?" Sheldon sneered, following Joan's startled gaze. "And now I'll have to play surgeon and doctor him up. Funny, thistwentieth-century duelling. First you drill a hole in a man, and nextyou set about plugging the hole up. "

They had stepped aside to let the stretcher pass, and Tudor, who hadheard the remark, lifted himself up on the elbow of his sound arm andsaid with a defiant grin, --

"If you'd got one of mine you'd have had to plug with a dinner-plate. "

"Oh, you wretch!" Joan cried. "You've been cutting your bullets. "

"It was according to agreement, " Tudor answered. "Everything went. Wecould have used dynamite if we wanted to. "

"He's right, " Sheldon assured her, as they swung in behind. "Any weaponwas permissible. I lay in the grass where he couldn't see me, andbushwhacked him in truly noble fashion. That's what comes of havingwomen on the plantation. And now it's antiseptics and drainage tubes, Isuppose. It's a nasty mess, and I'll have to read up on it before Itackle the job. "

"I don't see that it's my fault, " she began. "I couldn't help it becausehe kissed me. I never dreamed he would attempt it. "

"We didn't fight for that reason. But there isn't time to explain. Ifyou'll get dressings and bandages ready I'll look up 'gun-shot wounds'and see what's to be done. "

"Is he bleeding seriously?" she asked. 

"No; the bullet seems to have missed the important arteries. But thatwould have been a pickle. "

"Then there's no need to bother about reading up, " Joan said. "And I'mjust dying to hear what it was all about. The _Apostle_ is lyingbecalmed inside the point, and her boats are out to wing. She'll be atanchor in five minutes, and Doctor Welshmere is sure to be on board. Soall we've got to do is to make Tudor comfortable. We'd better put him inyour room under the mosquito-netting, and send a boat off to tell Dr. Welshmere to bring his instruments. "

An hour afterward, Dr. Welshmere left the patient comfortable andattended to, and went down to the beach to go on board, promising to comeback to dinner. Joan and Sheldon, standing on the veranda, watched himdepart. 

"I'll never have it in for the missionaries again since seeing them herein the Solomons, " she said, seating herself in a steamer-chair. 

She looked at Sheldon and began to laugh. 

"That's right, " he said. "It's the way I feel, playing the fool andtrying to murder a guest. "

"But you haven't told me what it was all about. "

"You, " he answered shortly. 

"Me? But you just said it wasn't. "

"Oh, it wasn't the kiss. " He walked over to the railing and leanedagainst it, facing her. "But it was about you all the same, and I may aswell tell you. You remember, I warned you long ago what would happenwhen you wanted to become a partner in Berande. Well, all the beach isgossiping about it; and Tudor persisted in repeating the gossip to me. Soyou see it won't do for you to stay on here under present conditions. Itwould be better if you went away. "

"But I don't want to go away, " she objected with rueful countenance. 

"A chaperone, then--"

"No, nor a chaperone. "

"But you surely don't expect me to go around shooting every slanderer inthe Solomons that opens his mouth?" he demanded gloomily. 

"No, nor that either, " she answered with quick impulsiveness. "I'll tellyou what we'll do. We'll get married and put a stop to it all. There!"

He looked at her in amazement, and would have believed that she wasmaking fun of him had it not been for the warm blood that suddenlysuffused her cheeks. 

"Do you mean that?" he asked unsteadily. "Why?"

"To put a stop to all the nasty gossip of the beach. That's a prettygood reason, isn't it?"

The temptation was strong enough and sudden enough to make him waver, butall the disgust came back to him that was his when he lay in the grassfighting gnats and cursing adventure, and he answered, --

"No; it is worse than no reason at all. I don't care to marry you as amatter of expedience--"

"You are the most ridiculous creature!" she broke in, with a flash of herold-time anger. "You talk love and marriage to me, very much against mywish, and go mooning around over the plantation week after week becauseyou can't have me, and look at me when you think I'm not noticing andwhen all the time I'm wondering when you had your last square mealbecause of the hungry look in your eyes, and make eyes at my revolver-belt hanging on a nail, and fight duels about me, and all therest--and--and now, when I say I'll marry you, you do yourself the honourof refusing me. "

"You can't make me any more ridiculous than I feel, " he answered, rubbingthe lump on his forehead reflectively. "And if this is the acceptedromantic programme--a duel over a girl, and the girl rushing into thearms of the winner--why, I shall not make a bigger ass of myself by goingin for it. "

"I thought you'd jump at it, " she confessed, with a naivete he could notbut question, for he thought he saw a roguish gleam in her eyes. 

"My conception of love must differ from yours then, " he said. "I shouldwant a woman to marry me for love of me, and not out of romanticadmiration because I was lucky enough to drill a hole in a man's shoulderwith smokeless powder. I tell you I am disgusted with this adventuretomfoolery and rot. I don't like it. Tudor is a sample of the adventure-kind--picking a quarrel with me and behaving like a monkey, insisting onfighting with me--'to the death, ' he said. It was like a pennydreadful. "

She was biting her lip, and though her eyes were cool and level-lookingas ever, the tell-tale angry red was in her cheeks. 

"Of course, if you don't want to marry me--"

"But I do, " he hastily interposed. 

"Oh, you do--"

"But don't you see, little girl, I want you to love me, " he hurried on. "Otherwise, it would be only half a marriage. I don't want you to marryme simply because by so doing a stop is put to the beach gossip, nor do Iwant you to marry me out of some foolish romantic notion. I shouldn'twant you . . . That way. "

"Oh, in that case, " she said with assumed deliberateness, and he couldhave sworn to the roguish gleam, "in that case, since you are willing toconsider my offer, let me make a few remarks. In the first place, youneedn't sneer at adventure when you are living it yourself; and you werecertainly living it when I found you first, down with fever on a lonelyplantation with a couple of hundred wild cannibals thirsting for yourlife. Then I came along--"

"And what with your arriving in a gale, " he broke in, "fresh from thewreck of the schooner, landing on the beach in a whale-boat full ofpicturesque Tahitian sailors, and coming into the bungalow with a Baden-Powell on your head, sea-boots on your feet, and a whacking big Colt'sdangling on your hip--why, I am only too ready to admit that you were thequintessence of adventure. "

"Very good, " she cried exultantly. "It's mere simple arithmetic--theadding of your adventure and my adventure together. So that's settled, and you needn't jeer at adventure any more. Next, I don't think therewas anything romantic in Tudor's attempting to kiss me, nor anything likeadventure in this absurd duel. But I do think, now, that it was romanticfor you to fall in love with me. And finally, and it is adding romanceto romance, I think . . . I think I do love you, Dave--oh, Dave!"

The last was a sighing dove-cry as he caught her up in his arms andpressed her to him. 

"But I don't love you because you played the fool to-day, " she whisperedon his shoulder. "White men shouldn't go around killing each other. "

"Then why do you love me?" he questioned, enthralled after the manner ofall lovers in the everlasting query that for ever has remainedunanswered. 

"I don't know--just because I do, I guess. And that's all thesatisfaction you gave me when we had that man-talk. But I have beenloving you for weeks--during all the time you have been so deliciouslyand unobtrusively jealous of Tudor. "

"Yes, yes, go on, " he urged breathlessly, when she paused. 

"I wondered when you'd break out, and because you didn't I loved you allthe more. You were like Dad, and Von. You could hold yourself in check. You didn't make a fool of yourself. "

"Not until to-day, " he suggested. 

"Yes, and I loved you for that, too. It was about time. I began tothink you were never going to bring up the subject again. And now that Ihave offered myself you haven't even accepted. "

With both hands on her shoulders he held her at arm's-length from him andlooked long into her eyes, no longer cool but seemingly pervaded with agolden flush. The lids drooped and yet bravely did not droop as shereturned his gaze. Then he fondly and solemnly drew her to him. 

"And how about that hearth and saddle of your own?" he asked, a momentlater. 

"I well-nigh won to them. The grass house is my hearth, and the _Martha_my saddle, and--and look at all the trees I've planted, to say nothing ofthe sweet corn. And it's all your fault anyway. I might never haveloved you if you hadn't put the idea into my head. "

"There's the _Nongassla_ coming in around the point with her boats out, "Sheldon remarked irrelevantly. "And the Commissioner is on board. He'sgoing down to San Cristoval to investigate that missionary killing. We'rein luck, I must say. "

"I don't see where the luck comes in, " she said dolefully. "We ought tohave this evening all to ourselves just to talk things over. I've athousand questions to ask you. "

"And it wouldn't have been a man-talk either, " she added. 

"But my plan is better than that. " He debated with himself a moment. "You see, the Commissioner is the one official in the islands who cangive us a license. And--there's the luck of it--Doctor Welshmere is hereto perform the ceremony. We'll get married this evening. "

Joan recoiled from him in panic, tearing herself from his arms and goingbackward several steps. He could see that she was really frightened. 

"I . . . I thought . . . " she stammered. 

Then, slowly, the change came over her, and the blood flooded into herface in the same amazing blush he had seen once before that day. Hercool, level-looking eyes were no longer level-looking nor cool, butwarmly drooping and just unable to meet his, as she came toward him andnestled in the circle of his arms, saying softly, almost in a whisper, --

"I am ready, Dave. "

FOOTNOTES

{1} Eaten. 

{2} Food. 

{3} Mary--beche-de-mer English for woman. 

{4} _Ngari-ngari_--literally "scratch-scratch"--a vegetableskin-poisoning that, while not serious, is decidedly uncomfortable. 

{5} Paddle