The Adventures of Don Lavington Part 41

"No, not unless you skinned me," said the man, laughing.

"Well, that part arn't tempting, is it, Mas' Don?"

Don shook his head.

"And then about that other part, old chap--cannibalism? I say, that's gammon, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why, you know--the cooking a fellow and eating him. How dull you are!"

"Dull? You be here a few years among these people, talking their lingo, and not seeing an Englishman above once in two years, and see if you wouldn't be dull."

"But is that true?"

"About being cannibals? Yes it's true enough," said the man seriously; "and very horrid it is; but it's only when there's war."

He had succeeded in striking a light now, and was smoking placidly enough on the boat's edge, but dreamily thoughtful, as if he were recalling matters that were past.

"Has he ever--been at war?" said Don, altering the fas.h.i.+on of his inquiry when it was half uttered.

"Often."

"And--? You know," said Jem, who felt no delicacy about the matter.

The Englishman nodded his head slowly, and sent forth a tremendous puff of smoke, while his companion moved toward Don, and smiled at him, tapping him on the shoulder with his hand, and seeming to nod approval.

"Pakeha!" he said, excitedly; "my pakeha; Maori pakeha."

"What does he mean by that?" said Don, after he had suffered these attentions patiently for a few minutes.

"Means he wants you to be his pakeha."

"Yes: my pakeha; Maori pakeha!" cried the chief eagerly.

"But what is a pakeha?"

"Why, you're a pakeha, I'm a pakeha. They call foreigners pakehas; and he wants to claim you as his."

"What, his slave?" cried Don.

"No, no; he means his foreign brother. If you become his pakeha, he will be bound to fight for you. Eh, Ngati?"

The savage gave vent to a fierce shout, and went through his former performance, but with more flourish, as if he were slaying numbers of enemies, and his facial distortion was hideous.

"Well, when I was a little un, and went to school," said Jem, "I used to get spanks if I put out my tongue. Seems as if it's a fine thing to do out here."

"Yes; it's a way they have when they're going to fight," said the Englishman thoughtfully. "S'pose it would mean trouble if I were to set you on to do it; but it wouldn't be at all bad for me if you were both of you to leave the s.h.i.+p and come ash.o.r.e."

"To be cooked?" said Jem.

"Bah! Stuff! They'd treat you well. Youngster here's all right; Ngati would make him his pakeha."

"My pakeha," cried the chief, patting Don again. "Much powder; much gun."

"Pupil of mine," said the Englishman, smiling; "I taught him our lingo."

"What does he mean?" said Don; "that he'd give me a big gun and plenty of powder?"

The Englishman laughed.

"No, no; he wants you to bring plenty of guns and powder ash.o.r.e with you when you come."

"When I come!" said Don, thoughtfully.

"I sha'n't persuade you, my lad; but you might do worse. You'd be all right with us; and there are Englishmen here and there beginning to settle."

"And how often is there a post goes out for England?"

"Post? For England? Letters?"

"Yes."

"I don't know; I've been here a long time now, and I never had a letter and I never sent one away."

"Then how should I be able to send to my Sally."

"Dunno," said the man. "There, you think it over. Ngati here will be ready to take care of you, youngster; and matey here shall soon have a chief to take care of him."

"I don't know so much about that," said Jem. "I should be ready enough to come ash.o.r.e, but you've got some precious unpleasant ways out here as wouldn't suit me."

"You'd soon get used to them," said the Englishman, drily; "and after leading a rough life, and being bullied by everybody, it isn't half bad to be a chief, and have a big canoe of your own, and make people do as you like."

"But then you're a great powerful man," said Don. "They'd obey you, but they wouldn't obey me."

"Oh, yes, they would, if you went the right way to work. It isn't only being big. They're big, much bigger all round than Englishmen, and stronger and more active. They're not afraid of your body, but of your mind; that's what they can't understand. If I was to write down something on a bit of wood or a leaf--we don't often see paper here--and give it to you to read, and you did the same to me, that gets over them: it's a wonder they can't understand. And lots of other things we know are puzzles to them, and so they think us big. You consider it over a bit, my lad; and if you decide to run for it, I'll see as you don't come to no harm."

"And him too?"

"Oh, yes; he shall be all right too; I'll see to that."

"Shouldn't be too tempting for 'em, eh? Should I?" said Jem.

"Not for our tribes here," said the Englishman, laughing; "but I may as well be plain with you. If we went to war with some of the others, and they got hold of you--"

"Say, Mas' Don," said Jem interrupting the speaker, "I don't like being a sort of white n.i.g.g.e.r aboard s.h.i.+p, and being kept a prisoner, and told it's to serve the king; but a man can go into the galley to speak to the cook without feeling that he's wondering which jynte of you he shall use first. No thankye; it's a werry lovely country, but I want to get home to my Sally some day; and if we cut and run here, I'm afraid I never should."

"You turn it over in your own minds, both of you, my lads. There, my pipe's out, and I think we'll go. Stop here long?"