Rodman The Boatsteerer And Other Stories Part 29

Half-way between his father's house and the beach the old man met him.

"Well, I be darned! Why, Jim, what hez brought you back?"

"Got tired of it, dad," he answered, in his quiet way, but without meeting his father's eye. And then he added, "The fac' is, dad, I bolted from the _Saginaw_ at Valparaiso. Now, don' ask me no more 'bout it."

"Right you are, my boy," said the trader, placidly; "but you'll have to get out o' the way if another cruiser comes along. But that isn't likely to happen for many a year. Come along and see Em. She'll jes' go dancin'

mad when she sees you."

For the next twelve months the father and daughter lived at Utiroa, and Jim voyaged to and fro among the islands of the group, returning every few months, and again sailing away on a fresh cruise; but never once had the old man asked him any further questions as to his reasons for deserting from the _Saginaw_. But Em, gentle-hearted Em, knew.

One bright morning there came in sight a lofty-sparred s.h.i.+p, with snow-white canvas, sailing at a distance of two miles from the sh.o.r.e along the reef, from the south end of the island, and Ema Swain rousing her brother from his mid-day slumber, with terror in her eyes, pointed seaward.

Taking his father's gla.s.s from the bracket on the wall in the sitting-room, the half-caste walked out of the house to a spot where he could obtain a clear view of the s.h.i.+p. For a minute or so he gazed steadily, then lowered the gla.s.s.

"A man-o'-war, Em, right enough; but I don' think she's an American.

I'll wait a bit until she gets closer."

"No, no, Jim! What you run such risk for? You go, Jim." And then, in her trembling fear, their mother's tongue came to her aid, and the agitated girl dragged him back into the house, imploring him in the native language to yield to her wishes.

In another two hours they were sailing down the lagoon in the old trader's whaleboat towards a place of safety, for Utiroa was, they knew, the only spot where a man-of-war would anchor.

But long before they reached the village for which they were bound they saw the great s.h.i.+p slowly change her course and bear away to the westward, and leave the low, sandy island astern.

A long, steady look at her told the sailor eye of Jim Swain that he had nothing to fear, even had she kept on and anch.o.r.ed at Utiroa.

"All right, Em," he said, with a low laugh, "we had no need to be scared; she's a Britisher. That's the _Tagus_. I see her 'bout a year ago at Samoa." And then he hauled the boat to the wind and beat back to his father's place.

And so time went by, and the haunting fear of discovery that for the first year or so after his return to the island had so often made the young half-caste start up in his sleep with a wild alarm in his heart when the cry of "Te Kaibuke!"{*} resounded from village to village, slowly died away.

* "A s.h.i.+p!"

II.

Nearly an hour had pa.s.sed since the girl had left her father's house, and now, as the sun dipped into the ocean, the flowing tide swept through the narrow channel in little waves of seething foam, and Ema, with one last look at the path on the opposite side, descended to the beach, and throwing off her loose bodice of blue print and her short skirt, tied around her waist a native waist-girdle of yellow gra.s.s, and stepped into the cold waters of the channel.

For some few minutes she laved herself, singing softly the while to herself as is customary with many Polynesian native women when bathing, when suddenly, through the humming drone of the beating surf on the windward reef, she heard the sound or voices.

"Ah!" she said to herself, "now I will wait and startle these girls from Tabeaue as they come along." And so she sank low down in the water, so that only her dark head showed above the surface.

But amid the sound of native voices she heard the unfamiliar tones of white men, and in an instant she sprang to the sh.o.r.e, and, seizing her clothes, fled to the shelter of the boulder.

In a minute she had dressed herself, and was peering out through the fast-gathering darkness at a group of figures she could just discern on the opposite side of the channel. They had halted, and the girl could hear the natives in the party discussing means as to getting the white men across, for the water was now deep, and the current was swirling through the narrow pa.s.s with great velocity.

There were in the party some eight or ten natives and nearly as many white men; and these latter, the girl could see, were in uniform, and carried arms; for presently one of them, who stood a little apart from the others, struck a light and lit a cheroot, and she caught the gleam of musket-barrels in the hands of those who were grouped in the rear.

Wondering how it came about that armed white men were searching through the island at such an hour, the girl was about to call out to the natives--some of whom she recognised--not to attempt the pa.s.sage without a canoe, when she heard the sound of oars, and looking across the darkening waters of the lagoon she saw a boat, filled with men, pulling rapidly along in the direction of Utiroa.

When just abreast of the pa.s.sage they ceased rowing, and a figure stood in the stern, and hailed the sh.o.r.e party.

"Are you there, Mr. Fenton?"

"Yes," answered the man who had struck the light. "Come in here, Adams, and take us across. There is a channel here, and though I guess it is not very deep, the current is running like a mill-race."

Still crouching behind the coral boulder the girl saw the boat row in to the sh.o.r.e, a little distance further down, so as to escape the swirling eddies of the pa.s.sage.

As the man-o'-war cutter--for such was the boat--touched the rocks, a lantern was held up, and by its light the girl saw a short, stout man step out on to the beach and walk up to the officer in charge of the sh.o.r.e party.

"Ah, Adams, is that you? Well, this is a devil of a place. We have crossed at least half a dozen of these cursed gutters, and thought to have crossed this one too, without trouble, but the tide is coming in fast. However, it's the last one--at least so this infernal hang-dog looking native guide tells me. So the sooner we get across in the cutter and get this man-hunting business over the better I'll like it."

"Aye, aye, sir!" answered the man he had addressed as Adams. "It won't take us much longer, I guess. Not a canoe has pa.s.sed us going down the coast, so we are pretty sure to catch him at home."

"That is what this truculent scoundrel says," and the officer nodded in the direction of a native who had seated himself on the ground only a few yards distant from the rock behind which the girl was hidden.

"He tells me that young Swain came home about a week ago from Maiana"--another island of the group--"and the old man induced him to stay at home and help him rig a new boat he has just built."

"We'll catch him, sir," answered Adams, confidently.

Clutching the side of the rough boulder in an agony of terror, the girl saw the two men turn away, and, followed by the rest of the sh.o.r.e party, natives and all, walk down to the boat. Then, standing upright, she watched them get in and the cutter shove off.

That they were in search of her brother she was now only too certain, and dreading that the boat would land the sh.o.r.e party again on her side of the channel and she be discovered and prevented from giving the alarm, she sprang over the loose slabs of coral that strewed the sh.o.r.e between the water and the coconut palms, and fled along the night-enshrouded path towards her father's house.

Ere she had gained the level ground the clattering sound made by the displaced coral stones reached the ears of those in the boat, which was instantly headed for sh.o.r.e, and the officer, with eight or ten bluejackets, leapt out and, led by the native guides, followed in swift pursuit.

III.

Within the trader's house the father and son sat smoking in silence, waiting for the girl's return. A coconut-oil lamp, placed in the centre of a table, showed that the evening meal was in readiness.

"Em's a powerful long time, Jim," said the old man, rising from his seat, and, going to the door, he looked through the serried vista of the palm trunks which showed white and ghostly in the darkness.

"Aye," said Jim, "she is. I'll give her a call."

Just beside the doorway lay a huge conch sh.e.l.l, such as is used by the people of the Equatorial islands either as a summons to a.s.semble or a call to one person only, and the stalwart young half-caste, taking it up, placed the perforated end to his lips and blew a loud, booming note.

A wild clamour of alarm answered the call, and a swarm of noddies and terns, roosting in countless thousands among a thicket of panda.n.u.s palms near by, slid from their perches, and with frightened croak and flapping wing whirled and circled around the trader's house, then vanished in the darkness ere the echoes of the conch had died away.

"That'll bring her, Jim," said the old man, turning to the lamp and p.r.i.c.king up the wick with his knife.

Silent Jim nodded.

"Yes, she's comin' now. I can hear her runnin'."