The Adventures of Don Lavington Part 40

"That he isn't," said the man, smiling. "'Sides I'm a Maori chief now, and I've got a couple of hundred stout fellows who would fight for me.

Eh, Ngati?" he said, addressing some words in the savage tongue.

"Pah, ha, ha!" roared the great fellow beside him, brandis.h.i.+ng his spear; and seizing the greenstone paddle-like weapon, which hung from his neck, in his left hand, as he struck an att.i.tude, turned up his eyes till the whites only were visible, distorted his face hideously, and thrust out his great tongue till it was far below his chin.

"Brayvo! Brayvo! Brayvo!" cried Jem, hammering the side of the boat; "brayvo, waxworks! I say, mate, will he always go off like that when you pull the string?"

"Yes," said the Englishman, laughing; "and two hundred more like him."

"Then it must be a werry pretty sight indeed; eh, Mas' Don?"

"Ah, it's all very well to laugh," said the Englishman good-humouredly; "but when they mean mischief, it's heads off and a feast."

"Eh?" cried Jem.

"They'll kill a man, and cook him and eat him after."

"Gammon!"

"Gammon, eh?" cried the Englishman; and he turned to his savage companion with a word or two.

The savage relapsed into his former quiescent state, uttered a loud grunt, and smacked his lips.

"And so you do do that sort of thing?" said Jem, grinning. "You look in pretty good condition, mate."

"No!" said the Englishman fiercely. "I've joined them, and married, and I'm a pakeha Maori and a great chief, and I've often fought for them; but I've never forgotten what I am."

"No offence meant, old chap," said Jem; and then from behind his hand he whispered to Don,--

"Look out, my lad; they mean the boat."

"No, we don't," said the Englishman, contemptuously; "if we did we could have it. Why, I've only to give the word, and a hundred fellows would be out in a canoe before you knew where you were. No, my lad, it's peace; and I'm glad of a chance, though I'm happy enough here, to have a talk to some one from the old home. Never was in the west country, I suppose? I'm an Exeter man."

"I've been in Exeter often," said Don eagerly; "we're from Bristol."

The Englishman waded rapidly into the sea, his Maori companion das.h.i.+ng in on the other side of the boat, and Jem and Don seized their pistols.

"Didn't I tell you it was peace?" said the Englishman, angrily. "I only wanted to shake hands."

"Ho!" said Jem, suspiciously, as their visitor coolly seated himself on the gunwale of the boat, his follower taking the opposite side, so as to preserve the balance.

"Enough to make you think we meant wrong," said the Englishman; "but we don't. Got any tobacco, mate?"

"Yes," said Jem, producing his bag. "'Tarn't very good. Say, Mas' Don, if he came to see us in Bristol, we could give him a bit o' real old Charlestown, spun or leaf."

"Could you, though?" said the man, filling his pipe.

"Yes; my uncle is a large sugar and tobacco merchant," said Don.

"Then how came you to be a sailor boy? I know, you young dog; you ran away. Well, I did once."

"No, no," said Don, hastily; "we did not ran away; we were pressed."

"Pressed?" said the Englishman, pausing in the act of striking a light on one of the thwarts of the boat.

"You needn't believe unless you like," said Jem, sourly, "but we were; dragged off just as if we were--well, never mind what. Feel here."

He bent forward, took the man's hand, and placed it upon the back of his head.

"That's a pretty good scar, isn't it? Reg'lar ridge."

"Yes; that was an ugly crack, mate."

"Well, that's what I got, and a lot beside. Young Mas' Don here, too, was awfully knocked about."

"And you stood it?"

"Stood it?" said Don, laughing. "How could we help it?"

"Made you be sailors, eh, whether you would or no?"

"That's it," said Jem.

"Well, you can do as you like," said the man; "but I know what I should do if they'd served me so."

"Cutoff?" said Jem.

"That's it, mate. I wouldn't ha' minded being a sailor, but not be made one whether I liked or no."

"You weren't a sailor, were you?" said Don.

"I? No; never mind what I was."

"Then we had better cut off, Mas' Don," said Jem, grinning till his eyes were shut; "and you and me 'll be painted like he is in fast colours, and you shall be a chief, and I'll be your head man."

"To be sure," said the Englishman; "and you shall have a wife."

"Eh?" cried Jem fiercely; "that I just won't. And, Mas' Don, if we ever do get back, don't you never say a word to my Sally about this here."

"No, Jem, not I."

"But you'll leave the s.h.i.+p, mate?"

"Well, I dunno," said Jem, thoughtfully. "Will that there pattern all over your face and chest wash off?"

"Wash off? No."

"Not with pearl-ash or soda?"