mr. vice president, mr. speaker, members of the senate, and of the house of representatives: yesterday, december 7th, 1941 -a date which will live in infamy -the united states of america was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the empire of japan. the united states was at peace with that nation and, at the solicitation of japan, was still in conversation with its government and its emperor looking toward the maintenance of peace in the pacific. indeed, one hour after japanese air squadrons had commenced bombing in the american island of oahu, the japanese ambassador to the united states and his colleague delivered to our secretary of state a formal reply to a recent american message. and while this reply stated that it seemed useless to continue the existing diplomatic negotiations, it contained no threat or hint of war or of armed attack. it will be recorded that the distance of hawaii from japan makes it obvious that the attack was deliberately planned many days or even weeks ago. during the intervening time, the japanese government has deliberately sought to deceive the united states by false statements and expressions of hope for continued peace. the attack yesterday on the hawaiian islands has caused severe damage to american naval and military forces. i regret to tell you that very many american lives have been lost. in addition, american ships have been reported torpedoed on the high seas between san francisco and honolulu. yesterday, the japanese government also launched an attack against malaya. last night, japanese forces attacked hong kong. last night, japanese forces attacked guam. last night, japanese forces attacked the philippine islands. last night, the japanese attacked wake island. and this morning, the japanese attacked midway island. japan has, therefore, undertaken a surprise offensive extending throughout the pacific area. the facts of yesterday and today speak for themselves. the people of the united states have already formed their opinions and well understand the implications to the very life and safety of our nation. as commander in chief of the army and navy, i have directed that all measures be taken for our defense. but always will our whole nation remember the character of the onslaught against us. no matter how long it may take us to overcome this premeditated invasion, the american people in their righteous might will win through to absolute victory. i believe that i interpret the will of the congress and of the people when i assert that we will not only defend ourselves to the uttermost, but will make it very certain that this form of treachery shall never again endanger us. hostilities exist. there is no blinking at the fact that our people, our territory, and our interests are in grave danger. with confidence in our armed forces, with the unbounding determination of our people, we will gain the inevitable triumph -so help us god. i ask that the congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by japan on sunday, december 7th, 1941, a state of war has existed between the united states and the japanese empire. cape gloucester: the green inferno marines in world war ii commemorative series by bernard c. nalty [illustration: _a marine patrol crosses a flooded stream and probes for the enemy in the forests of new britain._ department of defense (usmc) photo 72290] [illustration: _on 26 december 1943, marines wade ashore from beached lsts passing through a heavy surf to a narrow beach of black sand. inland, beyond a curtain of undergrowth, lie the swamp forest and the japanese defenders._ department of defense (usmc) photo 68998] cape gloucester: the green inferno _by bernard c. nalty_ on the early morning of 26 december 1943, marines poised off the coast of japanese-held new britain could barely make out the mile-high bulk of mount talawe against a sky growing light with the approach of dawn. flame billowed from the guns of american and australian cruisers and destroyers, shattering the early morning calm. the men of the 1st marine division, commanded by major general william h. rupertus, a veteran of expeditionary duty in haiti and china and of the recently concluded guadalcanal campaign, steeled themselves as they waited for daylight and the signal to assault the yellow beaches near cape gloucester in the northwestern part of the island. for 90 minutes, the fire support ships blazed away, trying to neutralize whole areas rather than destroy pinpoint targets, since dense jungle concealed most of the individual fortifications and supply dumps. after the day dawned and h-hour drew near, army airmen joined the preliminary bombardment. four-engine consolidated liberator b-24 bombers, flying so high that the marines offshore could barely see them, dropped 500-pound bombs inland of the beaches, scoring a hit on a fuel dump at the cape gloucester airfield complex and igniting a fiery geyser that leapt hundreds of feet into the air. twin-engine north american mitchell b-25 medium bombers and douglas havoc a-20 light bombers, attacking from lower altitude, pounced on the only japanese antiaircraft gun rash enough to open fire. the warships then shifted their attention to the assault beaches, and the landing craft carrying the two battalions of colonel julian n. frisbie's 7th marines started shoreward. an lci [landing craft, infantry] mounting multiple rocket launchers took position on the flank of the first wave bound for each of the two beaches and unleashed a barrage intended to keep the enemy pinned down after the cruisers and destroyers shifted their fire to avoid endangering the assault troops. at 0746, the lcvps [landing craft, vehicles and personnel] of the first wave bound for yellow beach 1 grounded on a narrow strip of black sand that measured perhaps 500 yards from one flank to the other, and the leading elements of the 3d battalion, commanded by lieutenant colonel william k. williams, started inland. two minutes later, lieutenant colonel john e. weber's 1st battalion, on the left of the other unit, emerged on yellow beach 2, separated from yellow 1 by a thousand yards of jungle and embracing 700 yards of shoreline. neither battalion encountered organized resistance. a smoke screen, which later drifted across the beaches and hampered the approach of later waves of landing craft, blinded the japanese observers on target hill overlooking the beachhead, and no defenders manned the trenches and log-and-earth bunkers that might have raked the assault force with fire. [illustration: positions of the first marine division] the yellow beaches, on the east coast of the broad peninsula that culminated at cape gloucester, provided access to the main objective, the two airfields at the northern tip of the cape. by capturing this airfield complex, the reinforced 1st marine division, designated the backhander task force, would enable allied airmen to intensify their attack on the japanese fortress of rabaul, roughly 300 miles away at the northeastern extremity of new britain. although the capture of the yellow beaches held the key to the new britain campaign, two subsidiary landings also took place: the first on 15 december at cape merkus on arawe bay along the south coast; and the second on d-day, 26 december, at green beach on the northwest coast opposite the main landing sites. [illustration: seizure and defense of the airdrome] [sidenote: major general william h. rupertus major general william h. rupertus, who commanded the 1st marine division on new britain, was born at washington, d.c., on 14 november 1889 and in june 1913 graduated from the u.s. revenue cutter service school of instruction. instead of pursuing a career in this precursor of the u.s. coast guard, he accepted appointment as a second lieutenant in the marine corps. a vigorous advocate of rifle marksmanship throughout his career, he became a member of the marine corps rifle team in 1915, two years after entering the service, and won two major matches. during world war i, he commanded the marine detachment on the uss _florida_, assigned to the british grand fleet. between the world wars, he served in a variety of assignments. in 1919, he joined the provisional marine brigade at port-au-prince, haiti, subsequently becoming inspector of constabulary with the marine-trained gendarmerie and finally chief of the port-au-prince police force. rupertus graduated in june 1926 from the army command and general staff college at fort leavenworth, kansas, and in january of the following year became inspector of target practice for the marine corps. he had two tours of duty in china and commanded a battalion of the 4th marines in shanghai when the japanese attacked the city's chinese defenders in 1937. during the guadalcanal campaign, as a brigadier general, he was assistant division commander, 1st marine division, personally selected for the post by major general alexander a. vandegrift, the division commander, whom he succeeded when vandegrift left the division in july 1943. major general rupertus led the division on new britain and at peleliu. he died of a heart attack at washington, d.c., on 25 march 1945, and did not see the surrender of japan, which he had done so much to bring about. [illustration: department of defense (usmc) photo 69010 _majgen william h. rupertus, commanding general, 1st marine division, reads a message of congratulation after the capture of airfield no. 2 at cape gloucester, new britain._]] _two secondary landings_ the first subsidiary landing took place on 15 december 1943 at distant cape merkus, across the arawe channel from the islet of arawe. although it had a limited purpose--disrupting the movement of motorized barges and other small craft that moved men and supplies along the southern coast of new britain and diverting attention from cape gloucester--it nevertheless encountered stiff resistance. marine amphibian tractor crews used both the new, armored buffalo and the older, slower, and more vulnerable alligator to carry soldiers of the 112th cavalry, who made the main landings on orange beach at the western edge of cape merkus. fire from the destroyer uss _conyngham_, supplemented by rocket-equipped dukws and a submarine chaser that doubled as a control craft, and a last-minute bombing by b-25s silenced the beach defenses and enabled the buffaloes to crush the surviving japanese machine guns that survived the naval and aerial bombardment. less successful were two diversionary landings by soldiers paddling ashore in rubber boats. savage fire forced one group to turn back short of its objective east of orange beach, but the other gained a lodgment on pilelo island and killed the handful of japanese found there. an enemy airman had reported that the assault force was approaching cape merkus, and fighters and bombers from rabaul attacked within two hours of the landing. sporadic air strikes continued throughout december, although with diminishing ferocity, and the japanese shifted troops to meet the threat in the south. the other secondary landing took place on the morning of 26 december. the 1,500-man stoneface group--designated battalion landing team 21 and built around the 2d battalion, 1st marines, under lieutenant colonel james m. masters, sr.--started toward green beach, supported by 5-inch gunfire from the american destroyers _reid_ and _smith_. lcms [landing craft, medium] carried dukw amphibian trucks, driven by soldiers and fitted with rocket launchers. the dukws opened fire from the landing craft as the assault force approached the beach, performing the same function as the rocket-firing lcis at the yellow beaches on the opposite side of the peninsula. the first wave landed at 0748, with two others following it ashore. the marines encountered no opposition as they carved out a beachhead 1,200 yards wide and extending 500 yards inland. the stoneface group had the mission of severing the coastal trail that passed just west of mount talawe, thus preventing the passage of reinforcements to the cape gloucester airfields. the trail net proved difficult to find and follow. villagers cleared garden plots, tilled them until the jungle reclaimed them, and then abandoned the land and moved on, leaving a maze of trails, some faint and others fresh, that led nowhere. the japanese were slow, however, to take advantage of the confusion caused by the tangle of paths. not until the early hours of 30 december, did the enemy attack the green beach force. taking advantage of heavy rain that muffled sounds and reduced visibility, the japanese closed with the marines, who called down mortar fire within 15 yards of their defensive wire. a battery of the 11th marines, reorganized as an infantry unit because the cannoneers could not find suitable positions for their 75mm howitzers, shored up the defenses. one marine in particular, gunnery sergeant guiseppe guilano, jr., seemed to materialize at critical moments, firing a light machine gun from the hip; his heroism earned him the navy cross. some of the japanese succeeded in penetrating the position, but a counterattack led by first lieutenant jim g. paulos of company g killed them or drove them off. the savage fighting cost combat team 21 six marines killed and 17 wounded; at least 89 japanese perished, and five surrendered. on 11 january 1944, the reinforced battalion set out to rejoin the division, the troops moving overland, the heavy equipment and the wounded traveling in landing craft. [sidenote: the fortress of rabaul located on simpson harbor at the northeastern tip of new britain, rabaul served as an air and naval base and troop staging area for japanese conquests in new guinea and the solomon islands. as the advancing japanese approached new britain, australian authorities, who administered the former german colony under terms of a mandate from the league of nations, evacuated the australian women and children living there. these dependents had already departed when the enemy landed on 23 january 1942, capturing rabaul by routing the defenders, some of whom escaped into the jungle to become coastwatchers providing intelligence for the allies. the australian coastwatchers, many of them former planters or prewar administrators, reported by radio on japanese strength and movements before the invasion and afterward attached themselves to the marines, sometimes recruiting guides and bearers from among the native populace. once the enemy had seized rabaul, he set to work converting it into a major installation, improving harbor facilities, building airfields and barracks, and bringing in hundreds of thousands of soldiers, sailors, and airmen, who either passed through the base en route to operations elsewhere or stayed there to defend it. rabaul thus became the dominant objective of general douglas macarthur, who escaped from the philippines in march 1942 and assumed command of the southwest pacific area. macarthur proposed a two-pronged advance on the fortress, bombing it from the air while amphibious forces closed in by way of eastern new guinea and the solomon islands. even as the allies began closing the pincers on rabaul, the basic strategy changed. despite macarthur's opposition, the american joint chiefs of staff decided to bypass the stronghold, a strategy confirmed by the anglo-american combined chiefs of staff during the quadrant conference at quebec in august 1943. as a result, rabaul itself would remain in japanese hands for the remainder of the war, though the allies controlled the rest of new britain.] _macarthur's marines_ after the fierce battles at guadalcanal in the south pacific area, the 1st marine division underwent rehabilitation in australia, which lay within general macarthur's southwest pacific area. once the division had recovered from the ordeal of the solomon islands fighting, it gave macarthur a trained amphibious unit that he desperately needed to fulfill his ambitions for the capture of rabaul. theoretically, the 1st marine division was subordinate to general sir thomas blamey, the australian officer in command of the allied land forces, and blamey's nominal subordinate, lieutenant general walter kreuger, commanding the sixth u.s. army. but in actual practice, macarthur bypassed blamey and dealt directly with kreuger. [illustration: department of defense (usmc) photo 75882 _during the planning of the new britain operation, gen douglas macarthur, right, in command of the southwest pacific area, confers with ltgen walter kreuger, left, commanding general, sixth u.s. army, and majgen rupertus, whose marines will assault the island. at such a meeting, col edwin a. pollock, operations officer of the 1st marine division, advised macarthur of the opposition of the marine leaders to a complex scheme of maneuver involving army airborne troops._] when the 1st marine division became available to macarthur, he still intended to seize rabaul and break the back of japanese resistance in the region. always concerned about air cover for his amphibious operations, macarthur planned to use the marines to capture the airfields at cape gloucester. aircraft based there would then support the division when, after a brief period of recuperation, it attacked rabaul. the decision to bypass rabaul eliminated the landings there, but the marines would nevertheless seize the cape gloucester airfields, which seemed essential for neutralizing the base. the initial concept of operations, which called for the conquest of western new britain preliminary to storming rabaul, split the 1st marine division, sending combat team a (the 5th marines, reinforced, less one battalion in reserve) against gasmata on the southern coast of the island, while combat team c (the 7th marines, reinforced) seized a beachhead near the principal objective, the airfields on cape gloucester. the army's 503d parachute infantry would exploit the cape gloucester beachhead, while combat team b (the reinforced 1st marines) provided a reserve for the operation. revisions came swiftly, and by late october 1943 the plan no longer mentioned capturing rabaul, tacit acceptance of the modified allied strategy, and also satisfied an objection raised by general rupertus. the division commander had protested splitting combat team c, and kreuger agreed to employ all three battalions for the main assault, substituting a battalion from combat team b, the 1st marines, for the landing on the west coast. the airborne landing at cape gloucester remained in the plan, however, even though rupertus had warned that bad weather could delay the drop and jeopardize the marine battalions already fighting ashore. the altered version earmarked army troops for the landing on the southern coast, which kreuger's staff shifted from gasmata to arawe, a site closer to allied airfields and farther from rabaul with its troops and aircraft. although combat team b would put one battalion ashore southwest of the airfields, the remaining two battalions of the 1st marines were to follow up the assault on cape gloucester by combat team c. the division reserve, combat team a, might employ elements of the 5th marines to reinforce the cape gloucester landings or conduct operations against the offshore islands west of new britain. during a routine briefing on 14 december, just one day before the landings at arawe, macarthur off-handedly asked how the marines felt about the scheme of maneuver at cape gloucester. colonel edwin a. pollock, the division's operations officer, seized the opportunity and declared that the marines objected to the plan because it depended on a rapid advance inland by a single reinforced regiment to prevent heavy losses among the lightly armed paratroops. better, he believed, to strengthen the amphibious forces than to try for an aerial envelopment that might fail or be delayed by the weather. although he made no comment at the time, macarthur may well have heeded what pollock said; whatever the reason, kreuger's staff eliminated the airborne portion, directed the two battalions of the 1st marines still with combat team b to land immediately after the assault waves, sustaining the momentum of their attack, and alerted the division reserve to provide further reinforcement. _the japanese in western new britain_ a mixture of combat and service troops operated in western new britain. the _1st_ and _8th shipping regiments_ used motorized barges to shuttle troops and cargo along the coast from rabaul to cape merkus, cape gloucester, and across dampier strait to rooke island. for longer movements, for example to new guinea, the _5th sea transport battalion_ manned a fleet of trawlers and schooners, supplemented by destroyers of the imperial japanese navy when speed seemed essential. the troops actually defending western new britain included the _matsuda force_, established in september 1943 under the command of major general iwao matsuda, a specialist in military transportation, who nevertheless had commanded an infantry regiment in manchuria. when he arrived on new britain in february of that year, matsuda took over the _4th shipping command_, an administrative headquarters that provided staff officers for the _matsuda force_. his principal combat units were the understrength _65th infantry brigade_--consisting of the _141st infantry_, battle-tested in the conquest of the philippines, plus artillery and antiaircraft units--and those components of the _51st division_ not committed to the unsuccessful defense of new guinea. matsuda established the headquarters for his jury-rigged force near kalingi, along the coastal trail northwest of mount talawe, within five miles of the cape gloucester airfields, but the location would change to reflect the tactical situation. as the year 1943 wore on, the allied threat to new britain increased. consequently, general hitoshi imamura, who commanded the _eighth area army_ from a headquarters at rabaul, assigned the _matsuda force_ to the _17th division_, under lieutenant general yasushi sakai, recently arrived from shanghai. four convoys were to have carried sakai's division, but the second and third lost one ship to submarine torpedoes and another to a mine, while air attack damaged a third. because of these losses, which claimed some 1,200 lives, the last convoy did not sail, depriving the division of more than 3,000 replacements and service troops. sakai deployed the best of his forces to western new britain, entrusting them to matsuda's tactical command. _establishing the beachhead_ the landings at cape merkus in mid-december caused matsuda to shift his troops to meet the threat, but this redeployment did not account for the lack of resistance at the yellow beaches. the japanese general, familiar with the terrain of western new britain, did not believe that the americans would storm these strips of sand extending only a few yards inland and backed by swamp. matsuda might have thought differently had he seen the american maps, which labeled the area beyond the beaches as "damp flat," even though aerial photographs taken after preliminary air strikes had revealed no shadow within the bomb craters, evidence of a water level high enough to fill these depressions to the brim. since the airfields were the obvious prize, matsuda did not believe that the marines would plunge into the muck and risk becoming bogged down short of their goal. [illustration: department of defense (usmc) photo 72833 _marines, almost invisible amid the undergrowth, advance through the swamp forest of new britain, optimistically called damp flat on the maps they used._] besides forfeiting the immediate advantage of opposing the assault force at the water's edge, matsuda's troops suffered the long-term, indirect effects of the erosion of japanese fortunes that began at guadalcanal and on new guinea and continued at new georgia and bougainville. the allies, in addition, dominated the skies over new britain, blunting the air attacks on the cape merkus beachhead and bombing almost at will throughout the island. although air strikes caused little measurable damage, save at rabaul, they demoralized the defenders, who already suffered shortages of supplies and medicine because of air and submarine attacks on seagoing convoys and coastal shipping. an inadequate network of primitive trails, which tended to hug the coastline, increased matsuda's dependence on barges, but this traffic, hampered by the american capture of cape merkus, proved vulnerable to aircraft and later to torpedo craft and improvised gunboats. the two battalions that landed on the yellow beaches--weber's on the left and williams's on the right--crossed the sands in a few strides, and plunged through a wall of undergrowth into the damp flat, where a marine might be slogging through knee-deep mud, step into a hole, and end up, as one on them said, "damp up to your neck." a counterattack delivered as the assault waves wallowed through the damp flat might have inflicted severe casualties, but matsuda lacked the vehicles or roads to shift his troops in time to exploit the terrain. although immobile on the ground, the japanese retaliated by air. american radar detected a flight of enemy aircraft approaching from rabaul; army air forces p-38s intercepted, but a few japanese bombers evaded the fighters, sank the destroyer _brownson_ with two direct hits, and damaged another. the first enemy bombers arrived as a squadron of army b-25s flew over the lsts [landing ships, tank] en route to attack targets at borgen bay south of the yellow beaches. gunners on board the ships opened fire at the aircraft milling overhead, mistaking friend for foe, downing two american bombers, and damaging two others. the survivors, shaken by the experience, dropped their bombs too soon, hitting the artillery positions of the 11th marines at the left flank of yellow beach 1, killing one and wounding 14 others. a battalion commander in the artillery regiment recalled "trying to dig a hole with my nose," as the bombs exploded, "trying to get down into the ground just a little bit further." by the time of the air action on the afternoon of d-day, the 1st marine division had already established a beachhead. the assault battalions of the 7th marines initially pushed ahead, capturing target hill on the left flank, and then paused to await reinforcements. during the day, two more battalions arrived. the 3d battalion, 1st marines--designated landing team 31 and led by lieutenant colonel joseph f. hankins, a reserve officer who also was a crack shooter--came ashore at 0815 on yellow beach 1, passed through the 3d battalion, 7th marines, and veered to the northwest to lead the way toward the airfields. by 0845, the 2d battalion, 7th marines, under lieutenant colonel odell m. conoley, landed and began wading through the damp flat to take its place between the regiment's 1st and 3d battalions as the beachhead expanded. the next infantry unit, the 1st battalion, 1st marines, reached yellow beach 1 at 1300 to join that regiment's 3d battalion, commanded by hankins, in advancing on the airfields. the 11th marines, despite the accidental bombing, set up its artillery, an operation in which the amphibian tractor played a vital part. some of the tractors brought lightweight 75mm howitzers from the lsts directly to the battery firing positions; others broke trail through the undergrowth for tractors pulling the heavier 105mm weapons. meanwhile, army trucks loaded with supplies rolled ashore from the lsts. logistics plans called for these vehicles to move forward and function as mobile supply dumps, but the damp flat proved impassable by wheeled vehicles, and the drivers tended to abandon the trucks to avoid being left behind when the shipping moved out, hurried along by the threat from japanese bombers. ultimately, marines had to build roads, corduroying them with logs when necessary, or shift the cargo to amphibian tractors. despite careful planning and hard work on d-day, the convoy sailed with about 100 tons of supplies still on board. [illustration: department of defense (usmc) photo _as the predicament of this truck and its marine driver demonstrates, wheeled vehicles, like those supplied by the army for mobile supply dumps, bog down in the mud of cape gloucester._] while reinforcements and cargo crossed the beach, the marines advancing inland encountered the first serious japanese resistance. shortly after 1000 on 26 december, hankins's 3d battalion, 1st marines, pushed ahead, advancing in a column of companies because a swamp on the left narrowed the frontage. fire from camouflaged bunkers killed captain joseph a. terzi, commander of company k, posthumously awarded the navy cross for heroism while leading the attack, and his executive officer, captain philip a. wilheit. the sturdy bunkers proved impervious to bazooka rockets, which failed to detonate in the soft earth covering the structures, and to fire from 37mm guns, which could not penetrate the logs protecting the occupants. an alligator that had delivered supplies for company k tried to crush one of the bunkers but became wedged between two trees. japanese riflemen burst from cover and killed the tractor's two machine gunners, neither of them protected by armor, before the driver could break free. again lunging ahead, the tractor caved in one bunker, silencing its fire and enabling marine riflemen to isolate three others and destroy them in succession, killing 25 japanese. a platoon of m4 sherman tanks joined the company in time to lead the advance beyond this first strongpoint. japanese service troops--especially the men of the _1st shipping engineers_ and the _1st debarkation unit_--provided most of the initial opposition, but matsuda had alerted his nearby infantry units to converge on the beachhead. one enemy battalion, under major shinichi takabe, moved into position late on the afternoon of d-day, opposite conoley's 2d battalion, 7th marines, which clung to a crescent-shaped position, both of its flanks sharply refused and resting on the marshland to the rear. after sunset, the darkness beneath the forest canopy became absolute, pierced only by muzzle flashes as the intensity of the firing increased. [illustration: _on d-day, among the shadows on the jungle floor, navy corpsmen administer emergency treatment to a wounded marine._ department of defense (usmc) photo 69009] [illustration: department of defense (usmc) photo 72599 _the stumps of trees shattered by artillery and the seemingly bottomless mud can sometimes stymie even an lvt._] the japanese clearly were preparing to counterattack. conoley's battalion had a dwindling supply of ammunition, but amphibian tractors could not begin making supply runs until it became light enough for the drivers to avoid tree roots and fallen trunks as they navigated the damp flat. to aid the battalion in the dangerous period before the skies grew pale, lieutenant colonel lewis b. puller, the executive officer of the 7th marines, organized the men of the regimental headquarters and service company into carrying parties to load themselves down with ammunition and wade through the dangerous swamp. one misstep, and a marine burdened with bandoliers of rifle ammunition or containers of mortar shells could stumble and drown. when colonel frisbie, the regimental commander, decided to reinforce conoley's marines with battery d, 1st special weapons battalion, puller had the men leave their 37mm guns behind and carry ammunition instead. a guide from conoley's headquarters met the column that puller had pressed into service and began leading them forward, when a blinding downpour, driven by a monsoon gale, obscured landmarks and forced the heavily laden marines to wade blindly onward, each man clinging to the belt of the one ahead of him. not until 0805, some twelve hours after the column started off, did the men reach their goal, put down their loads, and take up their rifles. conoley's marines had in the meantime been fighting for their lives since the storm first struck. a curtain of rain prevented mortar crews from seeing their aiming stakes, indeed, the battalion commander described the men as firing "by guess and by god." mud got on the small-arms ammunition, at times jamming rifles and machine guns. although forced to abandon water-filled foxholes, the defenders hung on. with the coming of dawn, takabe's soldiers gravitated toward the right flank of conoley's unit, perhaps in a conscious effort to outflank the position, or possibly forced in that direction by the fury of the battalion's defensive fire. an envelopment was in the making when battery d arrived and moved into the threatened area, forcing the japanese to break off the action and regroup. [sidenote: the jungle battlefield on new britain, the 1st marine division fought weather and terrain, along with a determined japanese enemy. rains brought by seasonal monsoons seemed to fall with the velocity of a fire hose, soaking everyone, sending streams from their banks, and turning trails into quagmire. the terrain of the volcanic island varied from coastal plain to mountains that rose as high as 7,000 feet above sea level. a variety of forest covered the island, punctuated by patches of grassland, a few large coconut plantations, and garden plots near the scattered villages. much of the fighting, especially during the early days, raged in swamp forest, sometimes erroneously described as damp flat. the swamp forest consisted of scattered trees growing as high as a hundred feet from a plain that remained flooded throughout the rainy season, if not for the entire year. tangled roots buttressed the towering trees, but could not anchor them against gale-force winds, while vines and undergrowth reduced visibility on the flooded surface to a few yards. no less formidable was the second kind of vegetation, the mangrove forest, where massive trees grew from brackish water deposited at high tide. mangrove trees varied in height from 20 to 60 feet, with a visible tangle of thick roots deploying as high as ten feet up the trunk and holding the tree solidly in place. beneath the mangrove canopy, the maze of roots, wandering streams, and standing water impeded movement. visibility did not exceed 15 yards. both swamp forest and mangrove forest grew at sea level. a third form of vegetation, the true tropical rain forest, flourished at higher altitude. different varieties of trees formed an impenetrable double canopy overhead, but the surface itself remained generally open, except for low-growing ferns or shrubs, an occasional thicket of bamboo or rattan, and tangles of vines. although a marine walking beneath the canopy could see a standing man as far as 50 yards away, a prone rifleman might remain invisible at a distance of just ten yards. only one of the three remaining kinds of vegetation seriously impeded military action. second-growth forest, which often took over abandoned garden tracts, forced patrolling marines to hack paths through the small trees, brush, and vines. grasslands posed a lesser problem; though the vegetation grew tall enough to conceal the japanese defenders, it provided comparatively easy going for the marines, unless the grass turned out to be wild sugar cane, with thick stalks that grew to a height of 15 feet. cultivated tracts, whether coconut plantations or gardens, posed few obstacles to vision or movement.] [sidenote: rain and biting insects driven by monsoon winds, the rain that screened the attack on conoley's 2d battalion, 7th marines, drenched the entire island and everyone on it. at the front, the deluge flooded foxholes, and conditions were only marginally better at the rear, where some men slept in jungle hammocks slung between two trees. a marine entered his hammock through an opening in a mosquito net, lay down on a length of rubberized cloth, and zipped the net shut. above him, also enclosed in the netting, stretched a rubberized cover designed to shelter him from rain. unfortunately, a gale as fierce as the one that began blowing on the night of d-day set the cover to flapping like a loose sail and drove the rain inside the hammock. in the darkness, a gust of wind might uproot a tree, weakened by flooding or the effect of the preparatory bombardment, and send it crashing down. a falling tree toppled onto a hammock occupied by one of the marines, who would have drowned if someone had not slashed through the covering with a knife and set him free. the rain, said lieutenant colonel lewis j. fields, a battalion commander in the 11th marines, resembled "a waterfall pouring down on you, and it goes on and on." the first deluge lasted five days, and recurring storms persisted for another two weeks. wet uniforms never really dried, and the men suffered continually from fungus infections, the so-called jungle rot, which readily developed into open sores. mosquito-borne malaria threatened the health of the marines, who also had to contend with other insects--"little black ants, little red ants, big red ants," on an island where "even the caterpillars bite." the japanese may have suffered even more because of shortages of medicine and difficulty in distributing what was available, but this was scant consolation to marines beset by discomfort and disease. by the end of january 1944, disease or non-battle injuries forced the evacuation of more than a thousand marines; more than one in ten had already returned to duty on new britain. the island's swamps and jungles would have been ordeal enough without the wind, rain, and disease. at times, the embattled marines could see no more than a few feet ahead of them. movement verged on the impossible, especially where the rains had flooded the land or turned the volcanic soil into slippery mud. no wonder that the assistant division commander, brigadier general lemuel c. shepherd, jr., compared the new britain campaign to "grant's fight through the wilderness in the civil war." [illustration: _the monsoon rains flood a field kitchen at cape gloucester, justifying complaints about watery soup._ department of defense (usmc) photo 72821] [illustration: _flooding caused by the monsoon deluge makes life miserable even in the comparative comfort of the rear areas._ department of defense (usmc) photo 72463]] _the capture of the cape gloucester airfields_ the 1st marine division's overall plan of maneuver called for colonel frisbie's combat team c, the reinforced 7th marines, to hold a beachhead anchored at target hill, while combat team b, colonel william a. whaling's 1st marines, reinforced but without the 2d battalion ashore at green beach, advanced on the airfields. because of the buildup in preparation for the attack on conoley's battalion, general rupertus requested that kreuger release the division reserve, combat team a, colonel john t. selden's reinforced 5th marines. the army general agreed, sending the 1st and 2d battalions, followed a day later by the 3d battalion. the division commander decided to land the team on blue beach, roughly three miles to the right of the yellow beaches. the use of blue beach would have placed the 5th marines closer to cape gloucester and the airfields, but not every element of selden's combat team a got the word. some units touched down on the yellow beaches instead and had to move on foot or in vehicles to the intended destination. while rupertus laid plans to commit the reserve, whaling's combat team advanced toward the cape gloucester airfields. the marines encountered only sporadic resistance at first, but army air forces light bombers spotted danger in their path--a maze of trenches and bunkers stretching inland from a promontory that soon earned the nickname hell's point. the japanese had built these defenses to protect the beaches where matsuda expected the americans to land. leading the advance, the 3d battalion, 1st marines, under lieutenant colonel hankins, struck the hell's point position on the flank, rather than head-on, but overrunning the complex nevertheless would prove a deadly task. rupertus delayed the attack by hankins to provide time for the division reserve, selden's 5th marines, to come ashore. on the morning of 28 december, after a bombardment by the 2d battalion, 11th marines, and strikes by army air forces a-20s, the assault troops encountered another delay, waiting for an hour so that an additional platoon of m4 sherman medium tanks could increase the weight of the attack. at 1100, hankins's 3d battalion, 1st marines, moved ahead, company i and the supporting tanks leading the way. whaling, at about the same time, sent his regiment's company a through swamp and jungle to seize the inland point of the ridge extending from hell's point. despite the obstacles in its path, company a burst from the jungle at about 1145 and advanced across a field of tall grass until stopped by intense japanese fire. by late afternoon, whaling abandoned the maneuver. both company a and the defenders were exhausted and short of ammunition; the marines withdrew behind a barrage fired by the 2d battalion, 11th marines, and the japanese abandoned their positions after dark. [illustration: _a 75mm pack howitzer of the 11th marines fires in support of the advance on the cape gloucester airfields._ department of defense (usmc) photo 12203] roughly 15 minutes after company a assaulted the inland terminus of the ridge, company i and the attached tanks collided with the main defenses, which the japanese had modified since the 26 december landings, cutting new gunports in bunkers, hacking fire lanes in the undergrowth, and shifting men and weapons to oppose an attack along the coastal trail parallel to shore instead of over the beach. advancing in a drenching rain, the marines encountered a succession of jungle-covered, mutually supporting positions protected by barbed wire and mines. the hour's wait for tanks paid dividends, as the shermans, protected by riflemen, crushed bunkers and destroyed the weapons inside. during the fight, company i drifted to its left, and hankins used company k, reinforced with a platoon of medium tanks, to close the gap between the coastal track and hell's point itself. this unit employed the same tactics as company i. a rifle squad followed each of the m4 tanks, which cracked open the bunkers, twelve in all, and fired inside; the accompanying riflemen then killed anyone attempting to fight or flee. more than 260 japanese perished in the fighting at hell's point, at the cost of 9 marines killed and 36 wounded. with the defenses of hell's point shattered, the two battalions of the 5th marines, which came ashore on the morning of 29 december, joined later that day in the advance on the airfield. the 1st battalion, commanded by major william h. barba, and the 2d battalion, under lieutenant colonel lewis h. walt, moved out in a column, barba's unit leading the way. in front of the marines lay a swamp, described as only a few inches deep, but the depth, because of the continuing downpour, proved as much as five feet, "making it quite hard," selden acknowledged, "for some of the youngsters who were not much more than 5 feet in height." the time lost in wading through the swamp delayed the attack, and the leading elements chose a piece of open and comparatively dry ground, where they established a perimeter while the rest of the force caught up. meanwhile, the 1st battalion, 1st marines, attacking through that regiment's 3d battalion, encountered only scattered resistance, mainly sniper fire, as it pushed along the coast beyond hell's point. halftracks carrying 75mm guns, medium tanks, artillery, and even a pair of rocket-firing dukws supported the advance, which brought the battalion, commanded by lieutenant colonel walker a. reaves, to the edge of airfield no. 2. when daylight faded on 29 december, the 1st battalion, 1st marines, held a line extending inland from the coast; on its left were the 3d battalion, 1st marines, and the 2d battalion, 5th marines, forming a semicircle around the airfield. the japanese officer responsible for defending the airfields, colonel kouki sumiya of the _53d infantry_, had fallen back on 29 december, trading space for time as he gathered his surviving troops for the defense of razorback hill, a ridge running diagonally across the southwestern approaches to airfield no. 2. the 1st and 2d battalions, 5th marines, attacked on 30 december supported by tanks and artillery. sumiya's troops had constructed some sturdy bunkers, but the chest-high grass that covered razorback hill did not impede the attackers like the jungle at hell's point. the japanese fought gallantly to hold the position, at times stalling the advancing marines, but the defenders had neither the numbers nor the firepower to prevail. typical of the day's fighting, one platoon of company f from selden's regiment beat back two separate _banzai_ attacks, before tanks enabled the marines to shatter the bunkers in their path and kill the enemy within. by dusk on 30 december, the landing force had overrun the defenses of the airfields, and at noon of the following day general rupertus had the american flag raised beside the wreckage of a japanese bomber at airfield no. 2, the larger of the airstrips. [illustration: department of defense (usmc) photo 71589 _on 31 december 1943, the american flag rises beside the wreckage of a japanese bomber after the capture of airfield no. 2, five days after the 1st marine division landed on new britain._] the 1st marine division thus seized the principal objective of the cape gloucester fighting, but the airstrips proved of marginal value to the allied forces. indeed, the japanese had already abandoned the prewar facility, airfield no. 1, which was thickly overgrown with tall, coarse kunai grass. craters from american bombs pockmarked the surface of airfield no. 2, and after its capture japanese hit-and-run raiders added a few of their own, despite antiaircraft fire from the 12th defense battalion. army aviation engineers worked around the clock to return airfield no. 2 to operation, a task that took until the end of january 1944. army aircraft based here defended against air attacks for as long as rabaul remained an active air base and also supported operations on the ground. _clearing the shores of borgen bay_ while general rupertus personally directed the capture of the airfields, the assistant division commander, brigadier general lemuel c. shepherd, jr., came ashore on d-day, 26 december, and took command of the beachhead. besides coordinating the logistics activity there, shepherd assumed responsibility for expanding the perimeter to the southwest and securing the shores of borgen bay. he had a variety of shore party, engineer, transportation, and other service troops to handle the logistics chores. the 3d battalion of colonel selden's 5th marines--the remaining component of the division reserve--arrived on 30 and 31 december to help the 7th marines enlarge the beachhead. [illustration: department of defense (usa) photo sc 188250 _during operations to clear the enemy from the shores of borgen bay, bgen lemuel c. shepherd, jr., (left) the assistant division commander, confers with col john t. selden, in command of the 5th marines._] shepherd had sketchy knowledge of japanese deployment west and south of the yellow beaches. dense vegetation concealed streams, swamps, and even ridge lines, as well as bunkers and trenches. the progress toward the airfields seemed to indicate japanese weakness in that area and possible strength in the vicinity of the yellow beaches and borgen bay. to resolve the uncertainty about the enemy's numbers and intentions, shepherd issued orders on 1 january 1944 to probe japanese defenses beginning the following morning. in the meantime, the japanese defenders, under colonel kenshiro katayama, commander of the _141st infantry_, were preparing for an attack of their own. general matsuda entrusted three reinforced battalions to katayama, who intended to hurl them against target hill, which he considered the anchor of the beachhead line. since matsuda believed that roughly 2,500 marines were ashore on new britain, 10 percent of the actual total, katayama's force seemed strong enough for the job assigned it. katayama needed time to gather his strength, enabling shepherd to make the first move, beginning at mid-morning on 2 january to realign his forces. the 1st battalion, 7th marines, stood fast in the vicinity of target hill, the 2d battalion remained in place along a stream already known as suicide creek, and the regiment's 3d battalion began pivoting to face generally south. meanwhile, the 3d battalion, 5th marines, pushed into the jungle to come abreast of the 3d battalion, 7th marines, on the inland flank. as the units pivoted, they had to cross suicide creek in order to squeeze out the 2d battalion, 7th marines, which would become shepherd's reserve. the change of direction proved extremely difficult in vegetation so thick that, in the words of one marine: "you'd step from your line, take say ten paces, and turn around to guide on your buddy. and nobody there.... i can tell you, it was a very small war, and a very lonely business." the japanese defenders, moreover, had dug in south of suicide creek, and from these positions they repulsed every attempt to cross the stream that day. a stalemate ensued, as seabees from company c, 17th marines, built a corduroy road through the damp flat behind the yellow beaches so that tanks could move forward to punch through the defenses of suicide creek. [illustration: department of defense (usmc) photo 69013 _marines and seabees struggle to build a corduroy road leading inland from the beachhead. without the log surface trucks and tanks cannot advance over trails turned into quagmire by the unceasing rain._] while the marine advance stalled at suicide creek, awaiting the arrival of tanks, katayama attacked target hill. on the night of 2 january, taking advantage of the darkness, japanese infantry cut steps in the lower slopes so the troops could climb more easily. instead of reconnoitering the thinly held lines of company a, 7th marines, and trying to infiltrate, the enemy followed a preconceived plan to the letter, advanced up the steps, and at midnight stormed the strongest of the company's defenses. japanese mortar barrages fired to soften the defenses and screen the approach could not conceal the sound of the troops working their way up the hill, and the marines were ready. although the japanese supporting fire proved generally inaccurate, one round scored a direct hit on a machine-gun position, killing two marines and wounding the gunner, who kept firing the weapon until someone else could take over. this gun fired some 5,000 rounds and helped blunt the japanese thrust, which ended by dawn of 3 january. nowhere did the japanese crack the lines of the 1st battalion, 7th marines, or loosen its grip on target hill. the body of a japanese officer killed at target hill yielded documents that cast new light on the japanese defenses south of suicide creek. a crudely drawn map revealed the existence of aogiri ridge, an enemy strongpoint unknown to general shepherd's intelligence section. observers on target hill tried to locate the ridge and the trail network the enemy was using, but the jungle canopy frustrated their efforts. while the marines on target hill tabulated the results of the fighting there--patrols discovered 40 bodies, and captured documents, when translated, listed 46 japanese killed, 54 wounded, and two missing--and used field glasses to scan the jungle south of suicide creek, the 17th marines completed the road that would enable medium tanks to test the defenses of that stream. during the afternoon of 3 january, a trio of sherman tanks reached the creek only to discover that the bank dropped off too sharply for them to negotiate. the engineers sent for a bulldozer, which arrived, lowered its blade, and began gouging at the lip of the embankment. realizing the danger if tanks succeeded in crossing the creek, the japanese opened fire on the bulldozer, wounding the driver. a volunteer climbed onto the exposed driver's seat and took over until he, too, was wounded. another marine stepped forward, but instead of climbing onto the machine, he walked alongside, using its bulk for cover as he manipulated the controls with a shovel and an axe handle. by dark, he had finished the job of converting the impassable bank into a readily negotiated ramp. [illustration: department of defense (usmc) photo 72292 _target hill, where the marines repulsed a japanese counterattack on the night of 2-3 january, dominates the yellow beaches, the site of the main landings on 26 december._] on the morning of 4 january, the first tank clanked down the ramp and across the stream. as the sherman emerged on the other side, marine riflemen cut down two japanese soldiers trying to detonate magnetic mines against its sides. other medium tanks followed, also accompanied by infantry, and broke open the bunkers that barred the way. the 3d battalion, 7th marines, and the 3d battalion, 5th marines, surged onward past the creek, squeezing out the 2d battalion, 7th marines, which crossed in the wake of those two units to come abreast of them on the far right of the line that closed in on the jungle concealing aogiri ridge. the 1st battalion, 7th marines, thereupon joined the southward advance, tying in with the 3d battalion, 5th marines, to present a four-battalion front that included the 2d battalion and 3d battalions, 7th marines. [illustration: drive to the southeast (i) suicide creek] once across suicide creek, the marines groped for aogiri ridge, which for a time simply seemed to be another name for hill 150, a terrain feature that appeared on american maps. the advance rapidly overran the hill, but japanese resistance in the vicinity did not diminish. on 7 january, enemy fire wounded lieutenant colonel david s. macdougal, commanding officer of the 3d battalion, 5th marines. his executive officer, major joseph skoczylas, took over until he, too, was wounded. lieutenant colonel lewis b. puller, temporarily in command of the 3d battalion, 7th marines, assumed responsibility for both battalions until the arrival on the morning of 8 january of lieutenant colonel lewis w. walt, recently assigned as executive officer of the 5th marines, who took over the regiment's 3d battalion. [illustration: department of defense (usmc) photo 72283 _from hell's point, athwart the route to the airfields, to suicide creek near the yellow beaches, medium tanks and infantry team up to shatter the enemy's log and earthen bunkers._] upon assuming command of the battalion, walt continued the previous day's attack. as his marines braved savage fire and thick jungle, they began moving up a rapidly steepening slope. as night approached, the battalion formed a perimeter and dug in. random japanese fire and sudden skirmishes punctuated the darkness. the nature of the terrain and the determined resistance convinced walt that he had found aogiri ridge. [illustration: drive to the southeast (ii) aogiri ridge and hill 660] walt's battalion needed the shock action and firepower of tanks, but drenching rain, mud, and rampaging streams stopped the armored vehicles. the heaviest weapon that the marines managed to bring forward was a single 37mm gun, manhandled into position on the afternoon of 9 january, while the 11th marines hammered the crest of aogiri ridge, the 1st and 3d battalions, 7th marines, probed the flanks of the position and walt's 3d battalion, 5th marines, pushed ahead in the center, seizing a narrow segment of the slope, its apex just short of the crest. by dusk, said the 1st marine division's special action report, walt's men had "reached the limit of their physical endurance and morale was low. it was a question of whether or not they could hold their hard-earned gains." the crew of the 37mm gun opened fire in support of the afternoon's final attack, but after just three rounds, four of the nine men handling the weapon were killed or wounded. walt called for volunteers; when no one responded, he and his runner crawled to the gun and began pushing the weapon up the incline. twice more the gun barked, cutting a swath through the undergrowth, and a third round of canister destroyed a machine gun. other marines then took over from walt and the runner, with new volunteers replacing those cut down by the enemy. the improvised crew kept firing canister rounds every few yards until they had wrestled the weapon to the crest. there the marines dug in, as close as ten yards to the bunkers the japanese had built on the crest and reverse slope. at 0115 on the morning of 10 january, the japanese emerged from their positions and charged through a curtain of rain, shouting and firing as they came. the marines clinging to aogiri ridge broke up this attack and three others that followed, firing off almost all their ammunition in doing so. a carrying party scaled the muddy slope with belts and clips for the machine guns and rifles, but there barely was time to distribute the ammunition before the japanese launched the fifth attack of the morning. marine artillery tore into the enemy, as forward observers, their vision obstructed by rain and jungle, adjusted fire by sound more than by sight, moving 105mm concentrations to within 50 yards of the marine infantrymen. a japanese officer emerged from the darkness and ran almost to walt's foxhole before fragments from a shell bursting in the trees overhead cut him down. this proved to be the high-water mark of the counterattack against aogiri ridge, for the japanese tide receded as the daylight grew brighter. at 0800, when the marines moved forward, they did not encounter even one living japanese on the terrain feature they renamed walt's ridge in honor of their commander, who received the navy cross for his inspirational leadership. one japanese stronghold in the vicinity of aogiri ridge still survived, a supply dump located along a trail linking the ridge to hill 150. on 11 january, lieutenant colonel weber's 1st battalion, 7th marines, supported by a pair of half-tracks and a platoon of light tanks, eliminated this pocket in four hours of fighting. fifteen days of combat since the landings on 26 december, had cost the division 180 killed and 636 wounded in action. [illustration: _ltcol lewis w. walt earned the navy cross leading an attack up aogiri ridge, renamed walt's ridge in his honor._ department of defense (usmc) photo 977113] the next objective, hill 660, lay at the left of general shepherd's zone of action, just inland of the coastal track. the 3d battalion, 7th marines, commanded since 9 january by lieutenant colonel henry w. buse, jr., got the assignment of seizing the hill. in preparation for buse's attack, captain joseph w. buckley, commander of the weapons company, 7th marines, set up a task force to bypass hill 660 and block the coastal trail beyond that objective. buckley's group--two platoons of infantry, a platoon of 37mm guns, two light tanks, two half-tracks mounting 75mm guns, a platoon of pioneers from the 17th marines with a bulldozer, and one of the army's rocket-firing dukws--pushed through the mud and set up a roadblock athwart the line of retreat from hill 660. the japanese directed long-range plunging fire against buckley's command as it advanced roughly one mile along the trail. because of their flat trajectory, his 75mm and 37mm guns could not destroy the enemy's automatic weapons, but the marines succeeded in forcing the hostile gunners to keep their heads down. as they advanced, buckley's men unreeled telephone wire to maintain contact with higher headquarters. once the roadblock was in place and camouflaged, the captain requested that a truck bring hot meals for his men. when the vehicle bogged down, he sent the bulldozer to push it free. [illustration: department of defense (usmc) photo 71520 _advancing past hill 660, a task force under capt joseph w. buckley cuts the line of retreat for the japanese defenders. the 37mm gun in the emplacement on the right and the half-track mounted 75mm gun on the left drove the attacking enemy back with heavy casualties._] [illustration: _gaunt, weary, hollow-eyed, machine gunner pfc george c. miller carries his weapon to the rear after 19 days of heavy fighting while beating back the japanese counterattack at hill 660. this moving photograph was taken by marine corps combat photographer sgt robert r. brenner._ department of defense (usmc) photo 72273] after aerial bombardment and preparatory artillery fire, buse's battalion started up the hill at about 0930 on 13 january. his supporting tanks could not negotiate the ravines that scarred the hillside. indeed, the going became so steep that riflemen sometimes had to sling arms, seize handholds among the vines, and pull themselves upward. the japanese suddenly opened fire from hurriedly dug trenches at the crest, pinning down the marines climbing toward them until mortar fire silenced the enemy weapons, which lacked overhead cover. buse's riflemen followed closely behind the mortar barrage, scattering the defenders, some of whom tried to escape along the coastal trail, where buckley's task force waited to cut them down. apparently delayed by torrential rain, the japanese did not counterattack hill 660 until 16 january. roughly two companies of katayama's troops stormed up the southwestern slope only to be slaughtered by mortar, artillery, and small-arms fire. many of those lucky enough to survive tried to break through buckley's roadblock, where 48 of the enemy perished. with the capture of hill 660, the nature of the campaign changed. the assault phase had captured its objective and eliminated the possibility of a japanese counterattack against the airfield complex. next, the marines would repulse the japanese who harassed the secondary beachhead at cape merkus and secure the mountainous, jungle-covered interior of cape gloucester, south of the airfields and between the green and yellow beaches. [illustration: japanese withdrawal routes january-march 1944] _the mopping-up begins in the west_ at cape merkus on the south coast of western new britain, the fighting proved desultory in comparison to the violent struggle in the vicinity of cape gloucester. the japanese in the south remained content to take advantage of the dense jungle and contain the 112th cavalry on the cape merkus peninsula. major shinjiro komori, the japanese commander there, believed that the landing force intended to capture an abandoned airfield at cape merkus, an installation that did not figure in american plans. a series of concealed bunkers, boasting integrated fields of fire, held the lightly armed cavalrymen in check, as the defenders directed harassing fire at the beachhead. because the cavalry unit lacked heavy weapons, a call went out for those of the 1st marine division's tanks that had remained behind at finschhafen, new guinea, because armor enough was already churning up the mud of cape gloucester. company b, 1st marine tank battalion, with 18 m5a1 light tanks mounting 37mm guns, and the 2d battalion, 158th infantry, arrived at cape merkus, moved into position by 15 january and attacked on the following day. a squadron of army air forces b-24s dropped 1,000-pound bombs on the jungle-covered defenses, b-25s followed up, and mortars and artillery joined in the bombardment, after which two platoons of tanks, ten vehicles in all, and two companies of infantry surged forward. some of the tanks bogged down in the rain-soaked soil, and tank retrievers had to pull them free. despite mud and nearly impenetrable thickets, the tank-infantry teams found and destroyed most of the bunkers. having eliminated the source of harassing fire, the troops pulled back after destroying a tank immobilized by a thrown track so that the enemy could not use it as a pillbox. another tank, trapped in a crater, also was earmarked for destruction, but army engineers managed to free it and bring it back. the attack on 16 january broke the back of japanese resistance. komori ordered a retreat to the vicinity of the airstrip, but the 112th cavalry launched an attack that caught the slowly moving defenders and inflicted further casualties. by the time the enemy dug in to defend the airfield, which the americans had no intention of seizing, komori's men had suffered 116 killed, 117 wounded, 14 dead of disease, and another 80 too ill to fight. the japanese hung on despite sickness and starvation, until 24 february, when komori received orders to join in a general retreat by _matsuda force_. across the island, after the victories at walt's ridge and hill 660, the 5th marines concentrated on seizing control of the shores of borgen bay, immediately to the east. major barba's 1st battalion followed the coastal trail until 20 january, when the column collided with a japanese stronghold at natamo point. translations of documents captured earlier in the fighting revealed that at least one platoon, supported by automatic weapons had dug in there. artillery and air strikes failed to suppress the japanese fire, demonstrating that the captured papers were sadly out of date, since at least a company--armed with 20mm, 37mm, and 75mm weapons--checked the advance. marine reinforcements, including medium tanks, arrived in landing craft on 23 january, and that afternoon, supported by artillery and a rocket-firing dukw, companies c and d overran natamo point. the battalion commander then dispatched patrols inland along the west bank of the natamo river to outflank the strong positions on the east bank near the mouth of the stream. while the marines were executing this maneuver, the japanese abandoned their prepared defenses and retreated eastward. [illustration: department of defense (usmc) photo 75970 _maj william h. barba's 1st battalion, 5th marines, prepares to outflank the japanese defenses along the natamo river._] success at cape gloucester and borgen bay enabled the 5th marines to probe the trails leading inland toward the village of magairapua, where katayama once had his headquarters, and beyond. elements of the regiment's 1st and 2d battalions and of the 2d battalion, 1st marines--temporarily attached to the 5th marines--led the way into the interior as one element in an effort to trap the enemy troops still in western new britain. [illustration: _an officer of maj gordon d. gayle's 2d battalion, 5th marines, displays a captured japanese flag from a window of the structure that served as the headquarters of majgen iwao matsuda._ department of defense (usa) photo sc 188246] in another part of this effort, company l, 1st marines, led by captain ronald j. slay, pursued the japanese retreating from cape gloucester toward mount talawe. slay and his marines crossed the mountain's eastern slope, threaded their way through a cluster of lesser outcroppings like mount langila, and in the saddle between mounts talawe and tangi encountered four unoccupied bunkers situated to defend the junction of the track they had been following with another trail running east and west. the company had found the main east-west route from sag sag on the coast to the village of agulupella and ultimately to natamo point on the northern coast. [illustration: department of defense (usmc) photo 77642 _the capture of matsuda's headquarters provides marine intelligence with a harvest of documents, which the enemy buried rather than burned, presumably to avoid smoke that might attract artillery fire or air strikes._] to exploit the discovery, a composite patrol from the 1st marines, under the command of captain nickolai stevenson, pushed south along that trail slay had followed, while a composite company from the 7th marines, under captain preston s. parish, landed at sag sag on the west coast and advanced along the east-west track. an australian reserve officer, william g. wiedeman, who had been an episcopal missionary at sag sag, served as parish's guide and contact with the native populace. when determined opposition stopped stevenson short of the trail junction near mount talawe, captain george p. hunt's company k, 1st marines, renewed the attack. on 28 january, hunt concluded he had brought the japanese to bay and attacked. for three hours that afternoon, his marines tried unsuccessfully to break though a line of bunkers concealed by jungle growth, losing 15 killed or wounded. when hunt withdrew beyond reach of the japanese mortars that had scourged his company during the action, the enemy emerged from cover and attempted to pursue, a bold but foolish move that exposed the troops to deadly fire that cleared the way for an advance to the trail junction. hunt and parish joined forces and probed farther, only to be stopped by a japanese ambush. at this point, major william j. piper, jr., the executive officer of the 3d battalion, 7th marines, assumed command, renewed the pursuit on 30 january, and discovered the enemy had fled. shortly afterward piper's combined patrol made contact with those dispatched inland by the 5th marines. [illustration: department of defense (usmc) photo 77436 _ltcol lewis h. puller, left, and maj william j. piper discuss the route of a patrol from the village of agulupella to gilnit on the itni river, a two-week operation._] thus far, a vigorous pursuit along the coast and on the inland trails had failed to ensnare the japanese. the marines captured matsuda's abandoned headquarters in the shadow of mount talawe and a cache of documents that the enemy buried rather than burned, perhaps because smoke would almost certainly bring air strikes or artillery fire, but the japanese general and his troops escaped. where had _matsuda force_ gone? since a trail net led from the vicinity of mount talawe to the south, general shepherd concluded that matsuda was headed in that direction. the assistant division commander therefore organized a composite battalion of six reinforced rifle companies, some 3,900 officers and men in all, which general rupertus entrusted to lieutenant colonel puller. this patrol was to advance from agulupella on the east-west track, down the so-called government trail all the way to gilnit, a village on the itni river, inland of cape bushing on new britain's southern coast. before puller could set out, information discovered at matsuda's former headquarters and translated revealed that the enemy actually was retreating to the northeast. as a result, rupertus detached the recently arrived 1st battalion, 5th marines, and reduced puller's force from almost 4,000 to fewer than 400, still too many to be supplied by the 150 native bearers assigned to the column for the march through the jungle to gilnit. during the trek, puller's marines depended heavily on supplies dropped from airplanes. piper cubs capable at best of carrying two cases of rations in addition to the pilot and observer, deposited their loads at villages along the way, and fifth air force b-17s dropped cargo by the ton. supplies delivered from the sky made the patrol possible but did little to ameliorate the discomfort of the marines slogging through the mud. [illustration: _marine patrols, such as puller's trek to gilnit, depended on bearers recruited from the villages of western new britain who were thoroughly familiar with the local trail net._ department of defense (usmc) photo 72836] despite this assistance from the air, the march to gilnit taxed the ingenuity of the marines involved and hardened them for future action. this toughening-up seemed especially desirable to puller, who had led many a patrol during the american intervention in nicaragua, 1927-1933. the division's supply clerks, aware of the officer's disdain for creature comforts, were startled by requisitions from the patrol for hundreds of bottles of insect repellent. puller had his reasons, however. according to one veteran of the gilnit operation, "we were always soaked and everything we owned was likewise, and that lotion made the best damned stuff to start a fire with that you ever saw." as puller's marines pushed toward gilnit on the itni river, they killed perhaps 75 japanese and captured one straggler, along with some weapons and odds and ends of equipment. an abandoned pack contained an american flag, probably captured by a soldier of the _141st infantry_ during japan's conquest of the philippines. after reaching gilnit, the patrol fanned out but encountered no opposition. puller's marines made contact with an army patrol from the cape merkus beachhead and then headed toward the north coast, beginning on 16 february. to the west, company b, 1st marines, boarded landing craft on 12 february and crossed the dampier strait to occupy rooke island, some fifteen miles from the coast of new britain. the division's intelligence specialists concluded correctly that the garrison had departed. indeed, the transfer began on 6 december 1943, roughly three weeks before the landings at cape gloucester, when colonel jiro sato and half of his 500-man _51st reconnaissance regiment_, sailed off to cape bushing. sato then led his command up the itni river and joined the main body of the _matsuda force_ east of mount talawe. instead of committing sato's troops to the defense of hill 660, matsuda directed him to delay the elements of the 5th marines and 1st marines that were converging over the inland trail net. sato succeeded in checking the hunt patrol on 28 january and buying time for matsuda's retreat, not to the south, but, as the documents captured at the general's abandoned headquarters confirmed, along the northern coast, with the _51st reconnaissance regiment_ initially serving as the rear guard. [illustration: _on 12 february 1944, infantrymen of company b, from ltcol walker a. reaves's 1st battalion, 1st marines, advance inland on rooke island, west of new britain, but find that the japanese have withdrawn._ department of defense (usmc) photo 79181] once the marines realized what matsuda had in mind, cutting the line of retreat assumed the highest priority, as demonstrated by the withdrawal of the 1st battalion, 5th marines, from the puller patrol on the very eve of the march toward gilnit. as early as 3 february, rupertus concluded that the japanese could no longer mount a counterattack on the airfields and began devoting all his energy and resources to destroying the retreating japanese. the division commander chose selden's 5th marines, now restored to three-battalion strength, to conduct the pursuit. while petras and his light aircraft scouted the coastal track, landing craft stood ready to embark elements of the regiment and position them to cut off and destroy the _matsuda force_. bad weather hampered selden's marines; clouds concealed the enemy from aerial observation, and a boiling surf ruled out landings over certain beaches. with about 5,000 marines, and some army dog handlers and their animals, the colonel rotated his battalions, sending out fresh troops each day and using 10 lcms in attempts to leapfrog the retreating japanese. "with few exceptions, men were not called upon to make marches on two successive days," selden recalled. "after a one-day hike, they either remained at that camp for three or four days or made the next jump by lcms." at any point along the coastal track, the enemy might have concealed himself in the dense jungle and sprung a deadly ambush, but he did not. selden, for instance, expected a battle for the japanese supply point at iboki point, but the enemy faded away. instead of encountering resistance by a determined and skillful rear guard, the 5th marines found only stragglers, some of them sick or wounded. nevertheless, the regimental commander could take pride in maintaining unremitting pressure on the retreating enemy "without loss or even having a man wounded" and occupying iboki point on 24 february. meanwhile, american amphibious forces had seized kwajalein and eniwetok atolls in the marshall islands, as the central pacific offensive gathered momentum. further to complicate japanese strategy, carrier strikes proved that truk had become too vulnerable to continue serving as a major naval base. the enemy, conscious of the threat to his inner perimeter that was developing to the north, decided to pull back his fleet units from truk and his aircraft from rabaul. on 19 february--just two days after the americans invaded eniwetok--japanese fighters at rabaul took off for the last time to challenge an american air raid. when the bombers returned on the following day, not a single operational japanese fighter remained at the airfields there. the defense of rabaul now depended exclusively on ground forces. lieutenant general yusashi sakai, in command of the _17th division_, received orders to scrap his plan to dig in near cape hoskins and instead proceed to rabaul. the general believed that supplies enough had been positioned along the trail net to enable at least the most vigorous of matsuda's troops to stay ahead of the marines and reach the fortress. the remaining self-propelled barges could carry heavy equipment and those troops most needed to defend rabaul, as well as the sick and wounded. the retreat, however, promised to be an ordeal for the japanese. selden had already demonstrated how swiftly the marines could move, taking advantage of american control of the skies and the coastal waters, and a two-week march separated the nearest of matsuda's soldiers from their destination. attrition would be heavy, but those who could contribute the least to the defense of rabaul seemed the likeliest to fall by the wayside. the japanese forces retreating to rabaul included the defenders of cape merkus, where a stalemate had prevailed after the limited american attack on 16 january had sent komori's troops reeling back beyond the airstrip. at augitni, a village east of the aria river southwest of iboki point, komori reported to colonel sato of the _51st reconnaissance regiment_, which had concluded the rear-guard action that enabled the matsuda force to cross the stream and take the trail through augitni to linga linga and eastward along the coast. when the two commands met, sato broke out a supply of sake he had been carrying, and the officers exchanged toasts well into the night. meanwhile, captain kiyomatsu terunuma organized a task force built around the _1st battalion, 54th infantry_, and prepared to defend the talasea area near the base of the willaumez peninsula against a possible landing by the pursuing marines. the _terunuma force_ had the mission of holding out long enough for _matsuda force_ to slip past on the way to rabaul. on 6 march, the leading elements of matsuda's column reached the base of the willaumez peninsula, and komori, leading the way for sato's rear guard, started from augitni toward linga linga. [sidenote: [illustration: department of defense (usmc) photo 86249 _a piper cub of the 1st marine division's improvised air force snags a message from a patrol on new britain's north coast._] an improvised air force at cape gloucester, the 1st marine division had an air force of its own consisting of piper l-4 cubs and stinson l-5s provided by the army. the improvised air force traced its origins to the summer of 1943, before the division plunged into the green inferno of new britain. lieutenant colonel kenneth h. weir, the division's air officer, and captain theodore a. petras, the personal pilot of major general alexander a. vandegrift, then the division commander, concocted a plan for acquiring light aircraft mainly for artillery spotting. the assistant division commander at that time, brigadier general rupertus, had seen army troops making use of piper cubs on maneuvers, and he promptly presented the plan to general macarthur, the theater commander, who promised to give the division twelve light airplanes in time for the next operation. when the 1st marine division arrived at goodenough island, off the southwestern tip of new guinea, to begin preparing for further combat, rupertus, now a major general and vandegrift's successor as division commander, directed petras and another pilot, first lieutenant r. f. murphy, to organize an aviation unit from among the marines of the division. a call went out for volunteers with aviation experience; some sixty candidates stepped forward, and 12 qualified as pilots in the new air liaison unit. the dozen piper cubs arrived as promised; six proved to be in excellent condition, three needed repair, and another three were fit only for cannibalization to provide parts to keep the others flying. the nine flyable planes practiced a variety of tasks during two months of training at goodenough island. the airmen acquired experience in artillery spotting, radio communications, and snagging messages, hung in a container trailing a pennant to help the pilot see it, from a line strung between two poles. the division's air force landed at cape gloucester from lsts on d-day, reassembled their aircraft, and commenced operating. the radios installed in the l-4s proved too balky for artillery spotting, so the group concentrated on courier flights, visual and photographic reconnaissance, and delivering small amounts of cargo. as a light transport, a piper cub could drop a case of dry rations, for example, with pinpoint accuracy from an altitude of 200 feet. occasionally, the light planes became attack aircraft when pilots or observers tossed hand grenades into japanese positions. before the marines pulled out of new britain, two army pilots, flying stinson l-5s, faster and more powerful than the l-4s, joined the division's air arm. one airplane of each type was damaged beyond repair in crashes, but the pilots and passengers survived. all the marine volunteers received the air medal for their contribution, but a specially trained squadron arrived from the united states and replaced them prior to the next operation, the assault on peleliu.] _the landings at volupai_ by coincidence, 6 march was the day chosen for the reinforced 5th marines, now commanded by colonel oliver p. smith, to land on the west coast of the willaumez peninsula midway between base and tip. the intelligence section of division headquarters believed that japanese strength between talasea, the site of a crude airstrip, and cape hoskins, across kimbe bay from willaumez peninsula, equaled that of the smith's command, but that most of the enemy troops defended cape hoskins. the intelligence estimate proved correct, for sakai had been preparing a last-ditch defense of cape hoskins, when word arrived to retreat all the way to rabaul. [illustration] to discover the extent of japanese preparations in the immediate vicinity of volupai, a reconnaissance team landed from a torpedo boat at bagum, a village about nine miles from red beach, the site chosen for the assault landing. flight lieutenant g. h. rodney marsland of the royal australian air force, first lieutenant john d. bradbeer--the division's chief scout, who had participated in three similar reconnaissance patrols of the cape gloucester area before the 26 december invasion--and two native bearers remained ashore for 24 hours and learned that red beach was lightly defended. their sources, principally natives who had worked at a plantation that marsland had operated in the area before the war, confirmed marine estimates of terunuma's aggregate force--some 600 men, two thirds of them located near talasea, armed with mortars and artillery. bristol beauforts of the royal australian air force based at kiriwina island bombed the volupai-talasea region for three days and then conducted a last-minute strike to compensate for the absence of naval gunfire. smith's force, designated landing team a, loaded into a small flotilla of landing craft, escorted by torpedo boats, and set out from iboki point. lieutenant colonel robert amory, jr., an army officer in command of an engineer boat unit, took command of the collection of small craft, some of them manned by his soldiers and the others by sailors. a storm buffeted the formation, and after the seas grew calm, the boat carrying the army air liaison party broke down. major gordon d. gayle, the new commander of the 2d battalion, 5th marines, who already was behind schedule, risked further delay by taking the disabled craft in tow. gayle felt that combat team a's need for the liaison party's radio equipment justified his action. at 0835 on 6 march, the first of the amphibian tractors carrying the assault troops clawed their way onto red beach. during the movement shoreward, sherman tanks in army lcms opened fire with machine guns and stood ready to direct their 75mm weapons against any japanese gunner who might oppose the landing. aside from hard-to-pinpoint small-arms fire, the opposition consisted mainly of barrages from mortars, screened by the terrain from the flat-trajectory cannon of the tanks. when japanese mortar shells began bursting among the approaching landing craft, captain theodore a. petras, at the controls of one of the division's piper cubs, dived low over the mortar positions and dropped hand grenades from the supply he carried on all his flights. natives had warned marsland and bradbeer of a machine-gun nest dominating the beach from the slopes of little mount worri, but the men of the 1st battalion, 5th marines, leading the way, found it abandoned and encountered no serious opposition as they dug in to protect the beachhead. meanwhile, gayle's marines pressed their attack, with four medium tanks supporting company e as it tried to push farther inland. one of the shermans bogged down almost immediately in the soft sand of red beach, but the other three continued in column. the tank in the lead lost momentum on a muddy rise, and two japanese soldiers carrying land mines burst from cover to attack it. riflemen of company e cut down one of them, but the other detonated his mine against the vehicle, killing himself and a marine who tried to stop him. the explosion jammed the turret and stunned the crewmen, who were further shaken, but not wounded, when an antitank grenade exploded against the armor. the damaged sherman got out of the way; when the other two tanks had passed, it returned to the trail only to hit a mine that disabled it. despite the loss of two tanks, one temporarily immobilized on the beach and the other out of action permanently, gayle's battalion continued its advance. during the fighting on the approaches to the volupai coconut plantation, the body of a japanese soldier yielded a map showing enemy dispositions around talasea. by mid-afternoon, smith's regimental intelligence section was disseminating the information, which proved valuable in future operations. while company e of gayle's battalion followed the trail toward the plantation, company g kept pace, crossing the western shoulder of little mount worri. five army air forces p-39s from airfield no. 2 at cape gloucester arrived overhead to support gayle's attack, but the pilots could not locate the troops below and instead bombed cape hoskins, where there was no danger of hitting the marines. even without the aerial attack, the 2d battalion, 5th marines, overran the plantation by dusk and dug in for the night; the unit counted the bodies of 35 japanese killed during the day's fighting. on d-day, combat team a lost 13 killed and 71 wounded, with artillery batteries rather than rifle companies suffering the greater number of casualties. the 2d battalion, 11th marines, set up its 75mm pack howitzers on the open beach, exposed to fire from the 90mm mortars upon which petras had ineffectually showered his hand grenades. some of the corpsmen at red beach, who went to the assistance of wounded artillerymen, became casualties themselves. nine of the marines killed on 6 march were members of the artillery unit, along with 29 of the wounded. nevertheless, the gunners succeeded in registering their fires in the afternoon and harassing the enemy throughout the night. [illustration: _at volupai, as on cape gloucester, sand, mud, and land mines--sometimes carried by japanese soldiers who detonated them against the sides of the vehicle--could immobilize even the sherman m4 medium tank._ department of defense (usmc) photo 79868] while the marines prepared to renew the attack on the second day, terunuma deployed his troops to oppose them and keep open the line of retreat of the _matsuda force_. in doing so, the japanese commander fell back from his prepared positions on the fringes of volupai plantation--including the mortar pits that had raised such havoc with the 2d battalion, 11th marines--and dug in on the northwest slopes of mount schleuther, overlooking the trail leading from the plantation to bitokara village on the coast. as soon as he realized what the enemy had in mind, gayle sent company f uphill to thwart the japanese plan, while company e remained on the trail and built up a base of fire. on the right flank of the maneuver element, company f, the weapons platoon burst from the undergrowth and surprised japanese machine gunners setting up their weapon, killing them and turning the gun against the enemy. the advance of company f caught the japanese in mid-deployment and drove them back after killing some 40 of them. gayle's battalion established a nighttime perimeter that extended from mount schleuther to the trail and embraced a portion of both. the action on 7 march represented a departure from plan. smith had intended that both barba and gayle attack, with the 3d battalion, 5th marines, commanded since 12 january by lieutenant colonel harold o. deakin, assuming responsibility for the defense of the beachhead. the landing craft that had carried the assault troops departed from red beach during d-day, some of them carrying the seriously wounded, in order to pick up the 3d battalion at iboki point and bring it to volupai. the day was waning by the time enough landing craft were on hand for deakin's battalion. for the reinforcements to arrive in time for an attack on the morning of 7 march would require a dangerous nighttime approach to volupai, through uncharted waters studded with sharp outcroppings of coral that could lay open the hull of a landing craft. rupertus decided that the risks of such a move outweighed the advantages and canceled it at the last moment. no boat started the return voyage to red beach until after dawn on 7 march, delaying the arrival of deakin's battalion until late afternoon. on that day, therefore, barba's 1st battalion had only enough time to send company c a short distance inland on a trail that passed to the right of little mount worri, en route to the village of liappo. when the trail petered out among the trees and vines, the marines hacked their way forward until they ran out of daylight short of their objective. on 8 march, the 1st battalion, 5th marines, resumed the advance, companies a and b moving on parallel paths leading east of little mount worri. members of company a, peering through dense undergrowth, saw a figure in a japanese uniform and opened fire. the person was not a japanese, however, but a native wearing clothing discarded by the enemy and serving as a guide for company b. the first shots triggered an exchange of fire that wounded the guide, killed one marine, and wounded a number of others. afterward, the advance resumed, but once again the formidable terrain--muddy ravines choked with brush and vines--slowed the marines, and the sun set with the battalion still on the trail. meanwhile, gayle's 2d battalion probed deeper into terunuma's defenses. patrols ranged ahead on the morning of 8 march and found the japanese dug in at bitokara mission, but the enemy fell back before the marines could storm the position. gayle's troops occupied bitokara and pushed as far as talasea, taking over the abandoned airstrip. other patrols from this battalion started up the steep slopes of mount schleuther and collided with terunuma's main strength. fire from small arms, a 90mm mortar, and a 75mm field gun killed or wounded 18 marines. rather than press his attack in the gathering darkness, gayle pulled back from the mountain and dug in at bitokara mission so artillery and mortars could hammer the defenses throughout the night, but he left one company to defend the talasea airstrip. [illustration: _cpl robert j. hallahan, a member of the 1st marine division band, examines the shattered remains of a japanese 75mm gun used in the defense of mount schleuther and rigged as a booby trap when the enemy withdrew._ department of defense (usa) photo sc 260915] [illustration: department of defense (usmc) photo 69985 _marines struggle to winch a tractor, and the 105mm howitzer it is towing, out of the mud of new britain. the trails linking volupai and talasea proved as impassable for heavy vehicles as those on cape gloucester._] on the morning of 9 march, company g of gayle's battalion advanced up mount schleuther while companies b and c from barba's command cleared the villages around the base. company g expected to encounter intense opposition during its part of the coordinated attack, but terunuma had decamped from the mountain top, leaving behind one dead, two stragglers, and an artillery piece. the enemy, however, had festooned the abandoned 75mm gun with vines that served as trip wires for a booby trap. when the marines hacked at the vines to examine the weapon more closely, they released the firing pin and detonated a round in the chamber. since the japanese gun crew had plugged the bore before fleeing, the resulting explosion ruptured the breech block and wounded one of gayle's men. besides yielding the dominant terrain, terunuma chose not to defend any of the villages clustered at the base of the mountain. the 5th marines thus opened a route across the willaumez peninsula to support further operations against matsuda's line of retreat. since 6 march, colonel smith's force had killed an estimated 150 japanese at the cost of 17 marines killed and 114 wounded, most of the casualties suffered on the first day. the final phase of the fighting that began on red beach consisted of securing garua island, abandoned by the japanese, for american use, a task finished on 9 march. the results of the action at the base of the willaumez peninsula proved mixed. the grass airstrip at talasea lacked the length to accommodate fighters, but the division's liaison planes made extensive use of it, landing on either side of the carcass of a japanese aircraft until the wreckage could be hauled away. the trail net, essentially a web of muddy paths, required long hours of hard work by company f, 17th marines, and army engineers, who used a 10-ton wrecker to recover three sherman tanks that had become mired during the fighting. by 10 march, the trails could support a further advance. two days later, elements of deakin's 3d battalion, 5th marines, having moved inland from the beachhead, provided a guard of honor as colonel smith and his executive officer, lieutenant colonel henry w. buse, raised over bitokara the same flag that had flown over airfield no. 2 at cape gloucester. _final combat and relief_ the flotilla of army lcms and navy lcts that supported the volupai landings inflicted further damage on japanese coastal traffic, already hard hit by air strikes. on 9 march, a convoy of landing craft carrying supplies around the tip of the peninsula for delivery to the advancing marines at talasea spotted four enemy barges, beached and sloppily camouflaged. an lct took the barges under fire from its 20mm cannon and machine guns, destroying one of the japanese craft. later that day, two lcms used the 37mm gun of the marine light tank that each was carrying, to fire upon another barge beached on the peninsula. the enemy tried to make the best possible use of the dwindling number of barges, but the bulk of matsuda's troops moved overland, screened by terunuma's men during the transit of the base of the willaumez peninsula. about a hundred japanese dug in at garilli, but by the time company k of deakin's 3d battalion, 5th marines, attacked on 11 march, the enemy had fallen back to a new trail block about three miles distant. for four days, the marines fought a succession of sharp actions, as the japanese retreated a few hundred yards at a time, dragging with them a 75mm gun that anchored each of the blocking positions. on 16 march, deakin himself joined company k, arriving in an lcm that also carried a section of 81mm mortars. the japanese turned their cannon seaward to deal with this threat but failed to hit the landing craft. shortly after the marine mortars landed and went into action, terunuma's men again withdrew, but this time they simply faded away, since the bulk of _matsuda force_ had escaped to the east. having secured the red beach-garua bay-talasea area, the 5th marines dispatched patrols southward to the base of the willaumez peninsula, capturing only the occasional straggler and confirming the departure of the main body of matsuda's command. the 1st marine division established a comfortable headquarters, training sites, a hospital that utilized captured stocks of japanese medicine, and a rest area that featured swimming off the garua beaches and bathing in hot springs ashore. the navy built a base on the willaumez peninsula for torpedo boats that harried the surviving japanese barges. unfortunately, on 27 march, the second day the base was operating, allied aircraft mistook two of the boats for japanese craft and attacked, killing five sailors and wounding 18. one of the courses taught at the new garua training center sought to produce amphibious scouts for the division's future operations. the school's headquarters decided that a reconnaissance of cape hoskins would serve as a suitable graduation exercise, since aerial observers had seen no sign of enemy activity there. on 13 april, second lieutenant richard r. breen, accompanied by lieutenant marsland of the royal australian air force, embarked with 16 trainees, two native guides, and a rifle platoon from the 2d battalion, 5th marines, in a pair of lcms. while two instructors stood by in one of the landing craft, the platoon established a trail block, and the future scouts advanced toward the cape hoskins airfield, no longer used by the japanese. en route to the objective, however, the patrol encountered fire from small arms and mortars, but the marines had apparently learned their lessons well, for they succeeded in breaking off the action and escaped without suffering casualties. meanwhile, the japanese retreat continued. komori's troops, blazing the trail for sato's command from augitni to the northern coast, encountered a disheartening number of hungry stragglers as they marched toward a supply depot at kandoka, roughly 10 miles west of the willaumez peninsula. crossing the kuhu river, komori's soldiers came under ineffectual fire from an american landing craft. the rain-swollen via river, broader than the kuhu, proved a more serious obstacle, requiring a detour lasting two days to reach a point where the stream narrowed. komori's provisions ran out on 17 march, forcing the soldiers to subsist on taro, birds and fish, and vegetables from village garden plots, supplemented by some welcome coconuts gathered from a plantation at linga linga. after losing additional time and a dozen lives crossing yet another river, the kapaluk, komori's troops straggled into kandoka on the 24th, only to discover that the food and other supplies had been carried off toward rabaul. despite this crushing disappointment, komori pressed on, his men continuing to live off the land as best they could. five more men drowned in the fast-moving waters of the kulu river, and a native hired as a guide defected. already weakened physically, komori came down with an attack of malaria, but he forced himself to continue. [illustration: _before the building of a rest area at garua bay, with its hot springs and bathing beaches, these marines relax in one of the crystal clear streams running into the sea from new britain's mountainous interior._ department of defense (usmc) photo 78381] the survivors struggled onward toward cape hoskins and ultimately rabaul. on 9 april, easter sunday, four half-starved japanese wandered onto the san remo plantation, where gayle's battalion had bivouacked after pursuing the enemy eastward from the willaumez peninsula. the marine unit was preparing to pass in review for the regimental commander later that day, when a sentry saw the intruders and opened fire. the ensuing skirmish killed three of the enemy. one of the dead proved to be major komori; his pack contained a rusty revolver and a diary describing the sufferings of his command. colonel sato, with the rest of the rear guard for the _matsuda force_, set out from augitni on 7 march, one day after komori, who sent back word on the 19th that patrols from the 5th marines had fanned out from the willaumez peninsula, where the reinforced regiment had landed almost two weeks earlier. when sato reached linga linga and came across a bivouac abandoned by a marine patrol, his force had dwindled to just 250 men, less than half the number that started out. he received a shock the following day when american landing craft appeared as his men prepared to cross the kapaluk river. he immediately set up a perimeter to beat back the expected attack, but the boats were carrying elements of the 2d battalion, 1st marines, under major charles h. brush, jr. a patrol from brush's company f landed on a beach beyond kandoka, the former site of a japanese supply cache, and dispatched one platoon, led by first lieutenant william c. schleip, westward along the coastal track, even as sato, aware only of the general location of the landing, groped eastward toward the village. on 26 march, the two collided, the japanese surprising the marines in the act of crossing a small stream and pinning them down for some three hours until the approach of reinforcements from company f forced the enemy to break off the action, take to the jungle, and bypass kandoka. as the head of sato's column disappeared in the jungle, one of the division's light airplanes, scouting landing sites for brush's battalion, sighted the tail near linga linga. the pilot, captain petras, turned over the controls to brigadier general earl c. long, also a pilot, sketched the location of the japanese, and dropped the map to one of the troop-laden landing craft. petras then led the way to an undefended beach, where brush's marines waded ashore and set out in pursuit of sato. on 30 march, second lieutenant richard b. watkins, at the head of an eight-man patrol, spotted a pair of japanese, their rifles slung, who turned out to be members of a 73-man patrol, far too many for watkins to handle. once the enemy column had moved off, watkins and his men hurried to kandoka, where he reported to major brush and obtained mortars and machine guns before again taking to the trail. brush followed, bringing a reinforced rifle platoon to increase the marine firepower. meanwhile, the japanese encountered yet another marine patrol, this one led by sergeant frank chliek, which took up a position on high ground that commanded the trail. when they heard chliek's group open fire, watkins and brush hurried to its aid; the resulting slaughter killed 55 japanese, including colonel sato, who died sword in hand, but the marines did not suffer even one casualty. on 9 april, the 3d battalion, 1st marines, under lieutenant colonel hankins, replaced brush's 1st battalion and continued the search for enemy stragglers. the bulk of the _matsuda force_, and whatever supplies it could transport, had by this time retreated to cape hoskins and beyond, and army troops were taking over from the marines. almost four months had elapsed since the landing at cape gloucester; clearly the time had come for the amphibious troops to move on to an operation that would make better use of their specialized training and equipment. the final action fought by the leathernecks took place on 22 april, when an ambush sprung by the 2d battalion, 5th marines, killed 20 japanese and resulted in the last marine fatality of the campaign. in seizing western new britain as part of the isolation of rabaul, the division suffered 310 killed in action and 1,083 wounded, roughly one-fourth the estimated japanese casualties. early in february 1944, after the capture of the cape gloucester airfields but before the landing at volupai, general rupertus warned that his 1st marine division might remain on new britain indefinitely. having the unit tied down for an extended period alarmed the recently appointed commandant of the marine corps, general vandegrift. "six months there," he remarked, referring to an extended commitment in new britain, "and it will no longer be a well-trained amphibious division." vandegrift urged admiral ernest j. king, the chief of naval operations, to help pry the division from macarthur's grasp so it could again undertake amphibious operations. admiral chester w. nimitz, commander in chief, pacific ocean areas, wanted the division for the impending invasion of the palau islands, the capture of which would protect the flank of macarthur's advance to the philippines. in order to obtain the marines, nimitz made the army's 40th infantry division available to macarthur, in effect swapping a division capable of taking over the new britain campaign for one that could spearhead the amphibious offensive against japan. macarthur, however, briefly retained control of one component of the marine division--company a, 1st tank battalion. that unit's medium tanks landed on 22 april at hollandia on the northern coast of new guinea, but a swamp just beyond the beachhead prevented the shermans from supporting the advance inland. the commanding general of the army's 40th infantry division, major general rapp brush, arrived at new britain on 10 april to arrange for the relief. his advance echelon arrived on the 23d and the remainder of the division five days later. the 1st marine division departed in two echelons on 6 april and 4 may. left behind was the 12th defense battalion, which continued to provide antiaircraft defense for the cape gloucester airfields until relieved by an army unit late in may. in a campaign lasting four months, the 1st marine division had plunged into the unforgiving jungle and overwhelmed a determined and resolute enemy, capturing the cape gloucester airfields and driving the japanese from western new britain. a number of factors helped the marines defeat nature and the japanese. allied control of the air and the sea provided mobility and disrupted the coastal barge traffic upon which the enemy had to depend for the movement of large quantities of supplies, especially badly needed medicines, during the retreat to rabaul. warships and landing craft armed with rockets--supplemented by such improvisations as tanks or rocket-equipped amphibian trucks firing from landing craft--supported the landings, but the size of the island and the lack of fixed coastal defenses limited the effectiveness of the various forms of naval gunfire. using superior engineering skills, the marines defied swamp and undergrowth to bring forward tanks that crushed enemy emplacements and added to the already formidable american firepower. although photo analysis, an art that improved rapidly, misinterpreted the nature of the damp flat, marine intelligence made excellent use of captured japanese documents throughout the campaign. in the last analysis, the courage and endurance of the average marine made victory possible, as he braved discomfort, disease, and violent death during his time in the green inferno. [sidenote: new weapons in the division's arsenal during the period of rehabilitation following the guadalcanal campaign, the 1st marine division received two new weapons--the m4 medium tank, nicknamed the sherman in honor of william tecumseh sherman whose union troops marched from atlanta to the sea, and the m-1 rifle. the new rifle, designed by john c. garand, a civilian employee of the springfield armory in massachusetts, was a semi-automatic, gas-operated weapon, weighing 9.5 pounds and using an eight-round clip. although less accurate at longer range than the former standard rifle, the m-1903, which snipers continued to use, the m-1 could lay down a deadly volume of fire at the comparatively short ranges typical of jungle warfare. in addition, the division received the m4a1, an early version of the sherman tank, which macarthur valued so highly that he borrowed a company of them from the 1st marine division for the hollandia operation. the model used by the marines weighed 34 tons, mounted a 75mm gun, and had frontal armor some three inches thick. although a more formidable weapon than the 16-ton light tank, with a 37mm gun, the medium tank had certain shortcomings. a high silhouette made it a comparatively easy target for japanese gunners, who fortunately did not have a truly deadly antitank weapon, and narrow treads provided poor traction in the mud of new britain. [illustration: _marine infantrymen, some of them using the m1 rifle for the first time in combat, and a sherman tank form a deadly team in the comparatively open country near the cape gloucester airfields._ department of defense (usmc) photo 69146]] _sources_ three books have proved essential to this account of the fighting on new britain. lieutenant colonel frank o. hough, usmcr, dealt at length with the campaign in _the island war: the united states marine corps in the pacific_ (philadelphia: j. b. lippincott, 1947). with major john crown, usmcr, he wrote the official marine corps historical monograph: _the new britain campaign_ (washington: historical branch, g-3 division, hqmc, 1952). the third of these essential volumes is henry i. shaw, jr., and major douglas t. kane, usmc, _isolation of rabaul--history of u. s. marine corps operations in world war ii_, vol 2 (washington: historical branch, g-3 division, hqmc, 1963.) other valuable sources include: wesley frank craven and james lea cate, eds., _the pacific: guadalcanal to saipan, august 1942-july 1944--the army air forces in world war ii_, vol 4 (washington: office of air force history, reprint 1983); george mcmillan, _the old breed: a history of the first marine division in world war ii_ (washington: infantry journal press, 1949); john miller, jr., _the united states army in world war ii; the war in the pacific: cartwheel, the reduction of rabaul_ (washington: office of chief of military history, 1959); samuel eliot morison, _breaking the bismarcks barrier, 22 july 1942-1 may 1944--a history of united states naval operations in world war ii_, vol 6 (boston: little, brown, and company, 1950). the _marine corps gazette_ printed four articles analyzing aspects of the new britain campaign: lieutenant colonel robert b. luckey, usmc, "cannon, mud, and japs," vol 28, no 10 (october 1944); george mcmillan, "scouting at cape gloucester," vol 30, no 5 (may 1946); and fletcher pratt, "marines under macarthur: cape gloucester," vol 31, no 12 (december 1947); and "marines under macarthur: willaumez," vol 32, no 1 (january 1947). of the marine corps oral history interviews of participants in the new britain fighting, the most valuable were with generals lemuel c. shepherd, jr., and edwin a. pollock and lieutenant generals henry w. buse, lewis j. fields, robert b. luckey, and john n. mclaughlin. almost three dozen collections of personal papers deal in one way or another with the campaign, some of them providing narratives of varying length and others photographs or maps. the most enlightening commentary came from the papers of major sherwood moran, usmcr, before the war a missionary in japan and during the fighting an intelligence specialist with the 1st marine division, who discussed everything from coping with the weather to understanding the motivation of the japanese soldier. _about the author_ [illustration] bernard c. nalty served as a civilian member of the historical branch, g-3 division, hqmc, from october 1956 to september 1961. in collaboration with henry i. shaw, jr., and edwin t. turnbladh, he wrote _central pacific drive_, volume 3 of the _history of u.s. marine corps operations in world war ii_, and he also completed a number of short historical studies, some of which appeared as articles in _leatherneck_ or _marine corps gazette_. he joined the history office of the joint chiefs of staff in 1961, transferring in 1964 to the air force history program, from which he retired in january 1994. [illustration] this pamphlet history, one in a series devoted to u.s. marines in the world war ii era, is published for the education and training of marines by the history and museums division, headquarters, u.s. marine corps, washington, d.c., as a part of the u.s. department of defense observance of the 50th anniversary of victory in that war. editorial costs of preparing this pamphlet have been defrayed in part by a bequest from the estate of emilie h. watts, in memory of her late husband, thomas m. watts, who served as a marine and was the recipient of a purple heart. world war ii commemorative series _director of marine corps history and museums_ brigadier general edwin h. simmons, usmc (ret) _general editor._ _world war ii commemorative series_ benis m. frank _cartographic consultant_ george c. macgillivray _editing and design section, history and museums division_ robert e. struder, senior editor; w. stephen hill, visual information specialist; catherine a. kerns, composition services technician marine corps historical center building 58, washington navy yard washington, d.c. 20374-5040 1994 pcn 190 003128 00 transcriber notes: passages in italics were indicated by _underscores_. passages in bold were indicated by =equal signs=. small caps were replaced with all caps. the illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up paragraphs and so that they are next to the text they illustrate. thus the page number of the illustration might not match the page number in the list of illustrations, and the order of illustrations may not be the same in the list of illustrations and in the book. sidenotes in the original have been repositioned between the sections of the main text, marked as [sidenote:], and treated as separate sections. errors in punctuation and inconsistent hyphenation were not corrected unless otherwise noted. on page 10, "though" was replaced with "through". on page 13, "nd" was replaced with "and". on page 21, "away" was replaced with "way". on page 22, a period was removed after "72836". on page 24, "your" was replaced with "you". on page 31, a comma was removed after "general rupertus". yorke the adventurer by louis becke t. fisher unwin, 1901 chapter i in that delightful and exciting book, written by captain joshua slocum, and entitled, "sailing alone round the world," there is a part wherein the adventurous american seaman relates how he protected himself from night attacks by the savages by a simple, but efficient precaution. it was his custom, when he anchored for the night off the snow-clad and inhospitable shores of tierra del fuego, to profusely sprinkle his cutter's deck with sharp tacks, and then calmly turn in and sleep the sleep of the just; for even the horny soles of the fuegian foot is susceptible to the business end of a tack; and, as i read slocum's story, i smiled, and thought of dear old yorke and the _francesco_. ***** i first met yorke early in the "seventies." our vessel had run in under the lee of the south cape of new britain to wood and water, and effect some repairs, for in working northward through the solomon group, on a special mission to a certain island off the coast of new guinea, we had met with heavy weather, and had lost our foretopmast. in those days there was not a single white man living on the whole of the south coast of new britain, from st. george's channel on the east, to dampier's straits on the west--a stretch of more than three hundred miles, and little was known of the natives beyond the fact of their being treacherous cannibals. in blanche bay only, on the northern shore, was there a settlement of a few adventurous english traders--the employees of a rich german company--and these were only acquainted with the natives in their own vicinity. even the masters of trading vessels avoided the south coast of the great island, not only on account of the dangerous character of its inhabitants, but also because there was not, they thought, anything to tempt them to risk their and their crews' lives--for the shore nearly everywhere presented a line of dense unbroken forest, with but scanty groves of coco-palms at long intervals, and even had there been many such groves, no communication could be had with the people. in the wild days of the "seventies" the practice of cutting up and drying the coconut into what is known as "copra" had scarcely made any headway in those parts of new britain, new ireland, and the solomon and new hebrides groups which were visited by trading vessels--the nuts were turned into oil by a crude and wasteful process known as "rotting." the captain of our little vessel was one of the oldest and most experienced trading skippers in the western pacific, grim, resolute, and daring, but yet cautious of his men's lives, if not of his own; so when he decided to anchor under the lee of the south cape, he chose a part of the coast which seemed to be but scantily inhabited. the dense forest which came down to the water's edge concealed from view any village that might have been near us; but the presence of smoke arising from various spots denoted that there were some natives living in the vicinity, though we could not see any canoes. we brought to about half a mile from the shore. two boats were at once lowered, manned, and armed, and under the captain's guidance, set out to search for water, which we knew we should have but little difficulty in finding, even on the south coast of new britain, which is not nearly so well watered as the northern shore of the island. in the captain's boat were six men besides himself; i was in charge of the covering boat, manned by six native seamen and carrying three water-casks--all we could stow. pulling in together, close to the shore, the captain then went ahead, my boat following at the regulation distance of fifty yards, only four hands rowing in each, leaving four men to keep a look-out for natives. presently the skipper turned to me, and pointed shoreward. "that's the place for us, drake--between those two spurs--just round this point. there's bound to be water there." the place which he indicated was about two miles distant to the eastward, and the crews gave way with good will, for the prospect of having a drink of pure water after the brackish and ill-smelling stuff we had been drinking for a fortnight, was very pleasing. although but a little past nine o'clock in the morning the day was intensely hot, and windless as well, and the perspiration was streaming down the naked chests and backs of our sturdy native sailors. the only sounds that broke the silence were the cries of birds--cockatoos and large green and scarlet parrots, which screamed angrily at us as the boats passed close in to the dense, steamy jungle of the littoral. just as the captain's boat rounded the point, we heard a cry of astonishment from his crew, a cry that was echoed by ourselves half a minute later; for there in the centre of a small landlocked bay, was a cutter lying at anchor! she appeared to be of about thirty or forty tons, had an awning spread aft, and presented a very weather-worn appearance; her rudder was gone, and the upper part of her stern badly damaged. there was no one visible on deck, but presently, in answer to the captain's hail, the face of an old, white-haired man, appeared above the companion. "come on board," he called out in clear, vigorous tones, and we saw him take up a broom, which was lying on the skylight, and begin to sweep the after-deck vigorously with one hand, the other being in a sling. "guess he's a lunatic," said captain guest, turning to me with a laugh. but we had no time to indulge in surmises, for in a few minutes we were drawing up alongside; the stranger was standing at the stern, broom in hand, watching us. "step on board here, over the stern, please," he said, and then he added quickly, "but are you all wearing boots?" "no," answered the captain, now quite sure the old man was wrong in his head, "some of my men have no boots." "then they had better not come aboard," he said with a quiet, amused smile, as he saw our puzzled faces. the moment captain guest and myself stepped over the rail and shook hands with the stranger, we saw the reason for the broom--the entire deck, except the small space aft which had just been swept, was covered with broken glass! "glad to see you, gentlemen. my name is yorke, and this cutter is the _francesco_." "and my name is guest. i am master of the brigantine _fray sentos_, of sydney, lying just round the point, and this is mr. drake, my supercargo." "sit down here on the skylight, gentlemen, out of the way of the glass--my cabin is very small." "guess it would have to be a pretty big one if you had another two men like yourself to share it," said guest with a laugh, as he surveyed our new friend's proportions. and indeed he was right, for yorke was over six feet in height, rather stout, and with a chest like a working bullock. his face and neck were deeply bronzed to a dark tan, and presented a striking and startling yet pleasing contrast to his snowy-white hair, moustache, and eyebrows; his clear, steely blue eyes were in consonance with the broad, square jaw, and the man's character revealed itself in his features--strong, courageous, dominant, and self-reliant. the moment captain guest mentioned that our men were thirsty and would like a drink of water, yorke became the soul of hospitality, and told them to come on board and help themselves, while for guest and myself he produced a couple of bottles of excellent tennant, and took a glass of it himself. "now, do you know, gentlemen," he said as he sat down on the cutter's rail, facing us, "this morning i had a dream? i thought i heard some one call out, 'all ready there, for'ard?' and i heard the rattle of a cable through the hawse-pipes. then i woke and looked at the clock--it was just half-past seven." "and at half-past seven we let go anchor, a good four miles from here. surely you could not have heard us at such a distance." "no, that's a fact. so, when i did hear you hail just now i knew my dream was verified. as a rule, dreams aren't worth a bag of shakings." "where are your crew, captain?" i asked. "ah, now i've a yarn to tell you. i'm the only man on board--my mate and every man of my crew were massacred about six weeks ago off the north end of new ireland, and i only escaped by the skin of my teeth. and now you can guess the meaning of all this glass on the deck. there's plenty of niggers all around us here, and that broken glass is a splendid protection for me at night time. since i lost my men they have made two attempts to cut me off at night time, once at a place just the other side of cape st. george and once near here. but," and he laughed softly, "they didn't stay on deck more than five seconds, i can assure you. i'll tell you the whole yarn presently. but say, captain--can you help me to a new rudder? i lost mine a week ago, and having a bad hand have not been able to do anything towards making one myself." "certainly i will. i'll send my carpenter to you as soon as we get back to the ship; or, better still, we'll tow you down to the fray bentos. but we are in want of water and firewood, and i should like to take some of both back with me." he thanked guest warmly, and added that, although the cutter had no rudder, she would steer very well with a sweep; and then he informed us there was good running water within a couple of cables' length of the cutter, also plenty of wood, and offered to take us to the place. we need not, he said, apprehend any attack by the natives, as our party was too large, and the spot where we could fill the casks was in fairly open country, and by stationing a sentry or two on each side of the creek, we could both wood and water with safety. "there is a village about six miles along the coast from here, and no doubt it was the people from there who boarded me the other night, for i saw a lot of canoes on a little beach there. i think it must be the largest village for many miles hereabout. now, do you see all those columns of smoke? some, you will notice, are very thin and bluish, while others are almost black; the thin ones are only from native ovens, the others are signals to the various smaller villages to the eastward--by this time every nigger within fifty miles of us knows that your ship is at anchor. i hope you left plenty of men on board?" "plenty, and ours is a well-armed crew." just as he was stepping into the captain's boat, i asked him what was the matter with his hand. he replied carelessly that he had "managed to get a bit of a knock," and would be glad if i would look at it when we returned to the cutter, as it was rather painful at times. the boats were soon under way for the shore, and in a quarter of an hour we entered a narrow but deep creek, not wide enough to permit us using our oars; but this was of no consequence, for each boat carried half a dozen canoe paddles. within a hundred yards up from the entrance we found the water to be quite fresh, and while some of the men started to fill the casks, the rest, except the sentries, made for a clump of about a dozen coconut-trees growing close beside a magnificent grove of areca-palms. every nut that was young enough to drink was quickly thrown down, and carried to the boats. then we set to work to collect firewood, and two or three dry, solid logs were dragged down into the creek, lashed together, and then, with them and the filled water casks in tow, we returned merrily to the _franceses_ hoisted up our water casks, swept up all the glass, shovelled it into a hogshead standing on the deck, hoisted her mainsail, and hove up her anchor, glad of having accomplished our task so easily and so quickly. a light air had sprung up, and the vessel, aided by the boats, made good progress towards our brigantine, despite the logs towing astern. our new friend asked me if i would mind coming below with him, as it was past three o'clock, and quite time we had something to eat and drink. the cabin certainly was small, but was spotlessly clean, and exceedingly well furnished. it contained three bunks, two of which were hidden from view by neat cretonne curtains. "that was my poor young mate's bunk," he said sadly, "and the other was the boatswain's. now, will you please pass these up on deck?" from a locker he took out a dozen or more of ale, two bottles of spirits, and a number of tins of beef, sardines, etc., together with an ample supply of biscuit. these i passed up to guest, who, at yorke's request, ordered the boats alongside, so that the crews could get some dinner, and a stiff glass of grog all round. then we ourselves ate a most hearty meal, rendered the more enjoyable by the deliciously cool beer--a liquor which, until that day, we had not tasted for quite four or five months. as soon as we had finished, i asked him to let me examine his hand. "can you do a bit of cutting?" he asked, as i began to remove the bandages. "rather," answered guest for me, "drake loves to dig out a bullet, especially--doesn't he, napoleon?" napoleon was one of our native crew--a short, nuggety little tongan, who, in an attack made on our boats nearly a year before, had received a bullet in the calf of the leg. i had succeeded in extracting it without unduly mutilating the patient, for i had once acted as amateur assistant to a medical missionary in samoa, and had seen a good many bullets extracted during a very lively six months' native war. when i saw the condition of yorke's hand, i was startled. it was enormously swollen from the tips of the fingers to the wrist, and badly lacerated and bruised all over the back, and presented a very dangerous appearance. the pain he had endured, and was enduring at the moment, must have been something atrocious, and i felt a sudden respect and admiration for a man who could attend to _our_ wants before thinking of himself. "good heavens!" said guest sympathisingly, "how did it happen?" he told us that ten days previously the cutter had struck on a reef in the night. she bumped heavily three or four times, but would have worked across the reef without serious damage, as there was a good breeze, had not a sea taken her on the bows, thrown her aback, and driven her stern first against the one exposed portion of the reef, tearing away her rudder, and smashing all the upper part of her stern. yorke, who was half-stunned by the boom swinging over, and striking him on the head as he was rising to his feet after being hurled along the deck, felt that he had received an injury to his hand, which was bleeding profusely. but just then he gave no thought to it, for the next two or three seas fortunately carried the cutter over the reef into deep water and safety. when he came to examine his hand, he found it had been crushed, probably by a piece of the heavy hardwood rail, and several splinters were protruding from the back and wrist. these he had succeeded in extracting, but the pain continued to increase day by day, and the palm of the hand began to swell and gather. "perhaps there's a bit of timber in there yet," he remarked to us. i thought so also, and so did guest, and after torturing the poor fellow a few minutes, i located the exact spot--just below the ball of the thumb. "captain yorke," i said, "i can cut it out, i am sure. but, frankly, the thumb is a dangerous thing for an amateur surgeon to meddle with, and----" "i know," he interrupted quietly, "but i'd rather run the risk of lockjaw than the certainty of blood poisoning, and i know that that is what it will turn to. last night i made up my mind to cut into the damned thing this morning if that last poultice i put on had no effect. now go ahead. there's a bottle of carbolic acid below, which will be useful, and my pocket-knife has a razor-edge." in less than five minutes i set to work, and in a few more, to my intense satisfaction--for i felt nervous--the thing was done, and i had extracted a piece of wood half an inch long, and as thick as a small quill. then guest and i carefully washed the wound over and over again in a solution of carbolic acid, and in half an hour the hand was bound up _pro tem_. poor yorke bore the pain without the twitching of an eyelid, and i felt a sincere thankfulness when, two hours later, we saw the change that relief from intense physical suffering had effected in his features. when we reached the brigantine, i was able to bandage the injured hand in a more shipshape and proper manner, as we had an ample supply of lint and other requirements; and within ten days he could use his hand freely, though it took a much longer time for a thorough recovery. that he was deeply grateful to us he showed us in many quiet ways; and before he had been with us a week, both the captain and myself, and, indeed, every one else on board the _fray bentos_ had grown to like the man immensely, though at times he would become unaccountably moody and silent, and keep to himself, only speaking in answer to a direct question. but, even then, he never attempted to directly avoid us, and was always civil, even to any of our native crew who might speak to him. "guess he thinks a lot about those poor men of his," said guest to me one day. that first evening we had a very pleasant supper. yorke was with us, and during the meal he gave us a detailed account of his voyage, and of the massacre of his little vessel's company. chapter ii he had, he told us, bought the _francesco_ at sourabaya about three years before, and after making several trading voyages between manila and the ladrone islands--voyages which did not pay as well as he had anticipated--he fell in with the master of a hobart town whaler, who strongly advised him to go farther eastwards and southwards, particularly about the admiralty group and their vicinity, where a few colonial vessels were doing very well, trading for coconut oil, beche-de-mer, sandalwood, tortoise-shell and pearl-shell. yorke took his advice and made a very successful voyage to the admiralties, taking a cargo of pearl-shell to singapore. this he sold very profitably, and was soon at sea again. on reaching the admiralty group, however, he was prevented from trading by the hostility of the natives, though on his previous visit they had been very friendly; and so, fearing that they might cut off the vessel, he decided to leave. he had with him a native of yap, one of the caroline islands--a man who had wandered about the north and south pacific from his boyhood. his name was rul, and he was not only a good seaman and an expert diver, but spoke fluently nearly a score of melanesian and micronesian dialects. on the evening of the day that the cutter left callie harbour, on admiralty island, yorke called his six men together, and told them that he was very undecided what to do. (i found out afterwards that he had a way of taking his crew into his confidence--"it pleases them," he said, "and has proved very useful on a number of occasions when their goodwill meant much to me "). after telling them that he did not like to risk their lives by trying to return to callie harbour, he asked if they were willing to sail with him to the southwestern coast of new guinea, where, he had heard, there was a great deal of pearl-shell to be bought from the natives. at the same time he pointed out to them that it would be a risky undertaking; he had no chart of that part of the western pacific, and, if they lost the ship, they would stand but little chance of escaping from the cannibal natives. "then," he went on, "this fellow rul said that although he and the other natives on board were quite willing to go anywhere with me, _he_ knew of a place only two days' sail away to the eastward where there was not only plenty of black-edge pearl-shell, but hawkbill turtle-shell as well. he had, he said, been cast away there in a whaleship, and remained on the island three months, could speak a little of the language, and gave me the names of several villages and harbours, but did not know the name of the island as a whole. "i brought up my chart, and in a few seconds i discovered the names he had mentioned. the island was new hanover, and, with the northerly breeze then blowing, i knew we should be there in twenty-four hours. so i made up my mind to try the place; for rul was a thoroughly trustworthy fellow, and i knew i could depend on him. "my mate was a young american named ted merriman, a native of new london, connecticut, a fine sailorman, and a good navigator. my boatswain, too, was one of the right sort; and, as for the rest, although they were all natives, they were good seamen, and i had never had a sulky look from any one of them since they first shipped with me. "we anchored just off a village which rul knew, and in a few minutes the people came off to us in crowds and filled the deck. many of them recognised rul, and they all showed great friendliness and eagerness to trade; and i, like a cocksure fool, was thrown off my guard." he ceased speaking, sighed, then lit his pipe and smoked in silence for awhile, and it was evident to us all that, although he was not an emotional man, he was strongly affected by the memory of the tragedy, and reproached himself keenly. "everything went well for the two following days," he resumed; "the natives had over ten tons of good black-edge shell, all of which i bought from them, paying for it principally in tobacco. it was worth to me in singapore about â£65 a ton, and only cost me about â£3 a ton, so you may imagine that i felt very well satisfied. then, besides the pearl-shell i bought nearly five hundredweight of splendid hawkbill turtle-shell, giving but two or three sticks of tobacco for an entire carapace of thirteen plates weighing between two and three pounds, and, as you know, hawkbill shell is worth eight dollars a pound in hongkong, and much more in london or hamburg." "captain yorke," said guest, with a laugh, "you should not have told us this. drake here is a very good fellow, but in business matters--as a supercargo--he'd cut the throat of his best friend." "don't believe that, captain yorke," i said, "but at the same time i wish you had not told us of this place. you certainly have the prior right of discovery, and ought to have the benefit, so i promise you i will not repeat to our owners anything you now tell us." yorke's face changed, and his bright blue eyes looked into ours with such a kindly expression that the fascination he already possessed over me deepened quickly. "you and captain guest are welcome to my knowledge, but i trust you will use it for your own benefit, and not consider your owners. tell me now, gentlemen, would they consider _you_? would they give you a handsome bonus for putting, say, five, or six thousand pounds into their pockets?" "i daresay they would give us each a cheque for fifty pounds," said guest meditatively. "then keep the thing dark," said the big man energetically, "keep it dark. why should you, captain guest, and you, mr. drake, enrich your owners by imparting to them this information? i tell you, gentlemen, that all shipowners are alike, at least i never ran across any that showed much consideration for any one else's welfare. nine out of every ten will work the soul out of their ship-masters and officers, who, when they grow too old to go to sea, are chucked out into the gutter to die of poverty, unless they have laid by a nest-egg for their old age." "that is true enough," assented guest, "and our esteemed employers are no better than the general run. so we will look on what you have just told us as private; by and by we will all talk over the matter, and see if we cannot go into the thing together." yorke nodded. "i'm with you. i've always played a lone hand hitherto, but i think that i can pull very well with men like you." then he resumed his story. "on the morning of the third day i went ashore with my gun to have a few hours' shooting on a large swamp, situated about three miles inland from the village. one of the natives had told rul that there were great numbers of wild duck and plover there, and offered to guide me to the place; so, telling merriman that i would be back in time for dinner, i started with the guide. the gun i had with me was a double-barrelled pin-fire lefaucheux breech-loader, and just before i left the cutter, i put in a couple of cartridges, intending to have a shot at some cranes which i saw walking about on the beach. most fortunately for me, they flew away before i could get near enough. besides the gun, i brought with me a sharp's rifle, as the guide said that we should most likely see a wild pig or two about the swamp. the rifle i gave to him to carry, but the ten cartridges for it i put in my coat pocket, together with about twenty cartridges for the gun. "on landing at the village, i was met by the head man, who wanted to know if i would buy a couple of pigs from him. i told him to take them on board to the mate, who would pay him; then, the guide leading, we struck out into the forest. after going about a mile or so, the nigger was joined by half a dozen young bucks, all armed with spears and clubs. i asked the guide, who spoke a little english, what they wanted; he replied that they wished to see me shoot. "'very well,' i said, 'go ahead then, all of you.' "the bucks grinned, but instead of going ahead stepped back to let me pass, and fell in, in single file at the rear, the guide still leading. now, i didn't like that at all, and i turned round to tell them to go in front of me; i was just in time to save myself from getting a spear through my back--as it was, it whizzed through the side of my coat, and in another second the nigger who threw it had a charge of shot through his brains. then, slewing round, i was just able to drop the guide, who was running off with the rifle. i hit him in the back, and saw him fall, then took cover behind a big tree to load again; but every other nigger had vanished, and then i heard a sound that filled me with dread for those on board the cutter--the loud, hoarse bellowing of conch shells. "i ran over to the guide, who was lying where he had fallen. i don't think he was mortally wounded, for he was quite thirty yards off when i fired. however, i made certain of him by cracking his skull with a long-handled club he carried. then i loaded the sharp's rifle, slung it over my shoulder by its sling; and started back for the village at a run, holding my shot gun ready cocked. "when i reached the village, i could not see a soul--every house was deserted, but from the sea front i could hear diabolical yells and cries. i had to run another hundred yards or more before i came in sight of the cutter, and the moment i did so, i saw that it was all over with poor merriman and the others--the vessel was simply swarming with niggers, and surrounded by canoes, into which they were already throwing the plunder! "i rested a minute or so to get my breath and steady my hand, and then opened fire. the cutter was not two hundred yards away from where i stood, and the very first shot plumped right into the black, surging crowd on deck, and one nigger gave his last jump. i fired three more shots into them before they had time to get into their canoes, or spring overboard to swim ashore. most of the canoes made off to the south, around a point, but three or four of them came right in towards me, heading for the village. i don't think any of them saw me, for i was lying down among the roots and _dã©bris_ of a fallen tree, just above high water mark. they came in, paddling like mad, but not uttering a sound. i waited till the first canoe was within ten yards of me, and then fired both barrels of my gun in quick succession right into them, nearly blowing the chest out of the old chief, who was seated amidships, and wounding all the others. then i got to work with my rifle again on the other canoes; and, although the moment they saw me, the niggers jumped overboard and dived, i got one for every shot of the last six cartridges--whenever one got into shallow water and stood up to run, down he went. "then, taking both shot gun and rifle by the barrels, i smashed them on a rock, tore off my clothes and boots, and started to swim off to the vessel, looking behind me every now and then to see if the niggers were following. but they had had enough of me, and their empty canoes were drifting about the bay. "i got alongside, clambered up over the waist, and saw a sight i shall never forget--every one of my poor shipmates had been ruthlessly slaughtered, and their mutilated bodies, stripped of every bit of clothing, were lying about the deck. a very brief examination showed me that every one of them was dead--in fact their heads had been beaten to pulp, and each body was pierced through and through with spear wounds and hacked and chopped about with tomahawks; while the deck was just a puddle of blood, mixed with sticks of tobacco, pieces of print, knives, and all sorts of trade goods. "the first thing i did was to try and hoist the mainsail so as to get under way, but the black devils had cut away a lot of the running gear, and the halliards had been severed and lay on the deck, ready to be taken on shore with the other loot littered about, though the sail itself had not been damaged. the jib and staysail, also, i could not hoist: they were lying in a heap on the windlass with a dead nigger on top, and, further aft, were another two of the gentry, one dead and one with a smashed thigh bone. i slung the wounded man overboard to the sharks, and then began to consider what was best to do. the niggers, i felt certain, would not tackle the cutter again, when they knew i was safe on board, but i determined to make certain. "you noticed those two brass three-pounders i carry? well, the first thing i did was to load them with heavy charges of round bullets, and some nuts and bolts. then i got up a dozen or so of rifles, and plenty of ammunition, and laid them in readiness on the skylight; for, although the niggers had turned my cabin upside down when looting the ship, there were any amount of small arms and various stores in the little hatch under the cabin table; besides these, i had some more in my own berth in a locker. "just as i was taking a long drink at the scuttle butt, i saw some of the niggers creeping back to the village through the trees, and watching what i was doing. i soon let them know. "the cutter had swung round, and was broadside on to the houses, so taking the gun on the port side over to the starboard, i secured it well, and then trained it with the other on the biggest house in the village--a sort of meeting-house or temple, or some such darned thing. i can tell you, gentlemen, i felt as if i could laugh when i saw quite a score of the black swine go into this house, one after another. i had friction tubes in both guns, and waited for another five minutes; then i fired them one after another. whether many or any niggers were killed, i do not know; but there was a fearful howling, which did me good to hear, and the front of the house went into splinters under the heavy charges of the guns, and in five seconds the village was deserted again. "before i did anything more for my own safety, i got some sailcloth and rugs, and covered the bodies of my shipmates--the dreadful appearance they presented just unnerved me, and i felt like sitting down and crying. but i had to hustle. i wanted to get under way as quickly as possible before darkness came on, and it was now noon. "first of all i rove the mainsail halliards, and then bent on the jib, stopping only now and then to fire a rifle at the village, just to let the natives know i was keeping my eyes skinned. then i hoisted the mainsail and hove up my anchor without any trouble, for the wind was very light, and got a good cant off shore as soon as i ran up the jib. "as soon as i was well away from the land, i stood north--about so as so clear cape queen charlotte, the westerly point of new hanover, and ran on for three or four hours, the vessel steering herself while i sewed up poor merriman's and the boatswain's bodies as well as i could under the circumstances. i should have done the same for the natives had i had the time, especially for rul, but i had not. about dusk i brought to, just off the cape, and dropped them over the side one after another--only just realising, ten minutes previously, that i was still stark naked! ***** "after rounding the north point of new hanover, i stood away down the coast of new ireland till i made gerrit denys island, where i anchored for a couple of days, the natives being very friendly, and giving me all the fresh provisions i wanted for a little tobacco and some hoop-iron. there was an old white beachcomber named billy living with them; he seemed to do pretty well as he liked, and had a deal of influence with them, not allowing any one of them to hang about the vessel after sunset, and each night he slept on board with me. i gave him a case of hollands for lending me a hand to set up my rigging, which so pleased him that he turned to and got drunk in ten minutes. "after leaving gerrit denys i had a hard struggle to make cape st. george, on the south end of new ireland. for eight or ten days i had rainy weather, with heavy squalls from the eastward, and did not feel very well into the bargain, for i had a touch of fever and ague." i asked him how he managed at night-time as regarded sleep. he laughed quietly, and assured us that he never lost a night's rest during the whole of the time he was at sea. he would simply "scandalise" his mainsail without reefing it, haul the staysail sheet to windward, and let the cutter head reach till daylight. the _francesco_ he said--and i afterwards found out that he was not over-rating her qualities--was a marvellous little vessel for taking care of herself. "well, i jogged along till one sunday morning, when i made the land between cape bougainville and cape st. george. it had been raining in torrents for two days, and i was feeling a bit done up; so, picking out a quiet little bay with thick forest growing right down to the water's edge, and not a sign of a native or native house, i ran in and let go in fifteen fathoms, but within a stone throw of the shore. and i'll be hanged, gentlemen, if i did not see, ten minutes afterwards, the smoke of half a dozen signal fires rising over the trees from as many different places, and all within three miles of the cutter. however, i was too weak to heave up again, even had i felt inclined. i wanted to cosset myself up, and get a good sweating between thick blankets to drive some of the fever out of me; and, niggers or no niggers, i meant to do so that day. then i thought of a dodge--i mean the broken-glass trick. "in the hold were half a dozen barrels of empty gin, beer, and whisky bottles. we had put them aside to give to the admiralty island people--especially the women and children--who attached some value to them as water holders. i brought up sixty or seventy dozen, and smashed them up in a clean hogshead. then i turned the whole lot out in a heap on the main hatch, got a shovel, and covered the entire deck fore and aft, first getting all loose ropes, &c, out of the way, as i did not want to get any glass in my own hands when i next handled the running gear. after that i went below, lit a spirit lamp, and made myself a big bowl of hot soup--real hot soup--a small tin of soup and bouilli, and a half bottle of worcester sauce with a spoonful of cayenne pepper and a stiff glass of brandy thrown in. "it touched me up, i can tell you, but i knew it would do me good as i lay down in my bunk, rolled myself in a heavy blanket, and piled over me every other rug and blanket i could find. in half an hour i was sweating profusely, for not only was the soup remedy working, but the little cabin, having every opening closed, was stiflingly hot. however, i stuck it out for a good two hours, till i felt i could stand it no longer; so i got up, unfastened my cabin door to get some air, and began rubbing myself down with a coarse towel. heavens! it felt delightful; for although my bones still ached, and i was very shaky on my legs, my head was better, and my spirits began to rise. i put on my pyjamas, went on deck, and had a look round. it was nearly dark, the rain had cleared off, a young moon was just lifting over the trees, and the little bay was as quiet as the grave--except for the cries of a colony of flying foxes which lived in a big _vi_ tree just a cable's length away from the cutter. "i knew that the new britain and new ireland natives don't like going out after dark, and that if these people meant mischief to me, they would wait till just before daylight, when they would expect to find everyone on board asleep; so, feeling much better and stronger, i turned in at eight o'clock, and slept till past midnight. i made some coffee, drank it, and laid down again, dozing off every now and then till just before dawn. then i heard a sudden rush on deck, followed by the most diabolical howls and yells as twenty or thirty niggers jumped overboard with bleeding feet, many of them leaving their clubs lying on the deck. i put my head out of the cabin, and gave them half a dozen revolver shots, but i'm afraid i didn't hit any of the beggars. "i got away on the same morning, and made a fine run right across st. george's channel, and along the new britain coast till i made cape roebuck. once the cutter did a steady nine knots for thirty hours. after running on that reef, i did not drop anchor again till i brought up off a rocky beach a few miles from here; and there the niggers made another try to get me, but the broken glass again proved effectual." "it's a mighty smart dodge, captain yorke," said guest, as we rose and shook hands with him, for he was going to sleep on board his own vessel. chapter iii we lay under the lee of the south cape or new britain for nearly a fortnight, during which time we effected all the necessary repairs to our own vessel, and fitted yorke's cutter with a new rudder. so far he had not told us anything further of his intentions as regarded either the further prosecution of his trading voyage, or its abandonment. at breakfast one morning, guest told him that he (yorke) could have a couple of our native hands to help him work the cutter to manila, or any other port in the china seas, if he so desired. he stroked his big, square jaw meditatively. "that is very kind of you, captain guest," he said; "but to tell you the exact truth, i don't know my own mind at this moment. i've a hazy sort of an idea that i'd like to keep the fray bentos company for a bit longer. i can outsail you in light winds--and i really don't care what i do now. and if you can spare me a couple of hands, i could jog along in company with you indefinitely. but, please understand me--i don't want to thrust myself and the _francesco_ into your company if _you_ don't want_ me_. as a matter of fact, i don't care a straw where i go--but i certainly would like to keep in company with you, if you don't object. perhaps you would not mind telling me where you are bound?" guest looked at me interrogatively. "well, captain yorke," i said, "one confidence begets another; your confidence in us is worth a heap of money to guest and myself, and, to be perfectly frank and straightforward with you, the captain and myself intended to lay a proposition before you whereby we three might possibly go into this new hanover venture on our own hook. but guest and myself are bound to our present employers for another seven months." yorke nodded. "that will be all right. i'm ready to go in with you, either at the end of seven months or at any other time which may suit you. you can count on me. i'm not a rich man, nor yet am i a poor man; in fact, there's a thousand pounds' worth of stuff under the _francesco's_ hatches now." "well then, captain yorke," i said, "as guest here leaves me to do all the talking, i'll tell you _why_ we are so far up to the northward, out of our usual beat. we heard in samoa that a big ship, named the _sarawak_ had run ashore and been abandoned at rook island, in dampier straits, between the west end of new britain and the east coast of new guinea, and both guest and myself know her to be one of the largest ships out of liverpool; she left sydney for hongkong about six months ago with a general cargo. and 'there be pickings,' for she is almost a new vessel, and her gear and fittings alone, independent of her cargo, ought to be worth a thousand pounds. all we could learn at samoa was that she had run up on a ledge of reef on rook island, and that the skipper, with three boats' crews, had started off for thursday island, in torres straits. now, it is quite likely that, if she has not broken up, there may be a lot of money hanging to it." "for your owners!" said yorke, with his slow, amused smile. "just so, captain yorke. 'for our owners,' as you say. but even our owners, who are rather 'sharp' people, are not a bad lot--they'll give guest and myself a bonus of some sort if we do them good over this wrecked ship." "and if you don't 'do them good'?" he asked, with the same half-humorous, half-sarcastic smile. "if we don't, the senior partner in our highly-esteemed, sailor-sweating firm, will tell guest and myself that we 'made a most reprehensible mistake,' and have put the firm to a considerable loss by doing too much on our own responsibility." he nodded as i went on--"we heard of this wreck from the officers of a french cruiser which called at samoa while we were there. they sighted her lying high and dry on the reef, sent a boat ashore, and found her abandoned. she was bilged, but not badly, as far as they could see. on the cabin table was nailed a letter, written by the captain, saying that being unable to float the ship again, and fearing that he and his unarmed crew would be attacked by the savages, he was starting off in his boats for thursday island, the nearest port. now, that is a big undertaking, and the chances are that the poor fellows never reached there. however, guest and i thought so much of the matter that we hustled through our business in samoa, and sailed the next day direct for rook island, instead of doing our usual cruise to the eastward. but we met with fearful weather coming up through the solomon group, lost our foretopmast, and strained badly. and here we are now, tied up by the nose off the south cape of new britain instead of being at rook island at work on that wreck." yorke thought a moment. "well, gentlemen, let me come in with you--just for the fun of the thing. i don't want to get any money out of it, i assure you, and i'll lend you a hand with the wrecking work." "agreed," said guest, extending his hand, "but only on this condition--whatever our owners give drake and myself, we three divide equally." "as you please, as you please," he said. "now come aboard my little hooker, and have a look at what is in the hold." we went on board the francesco with him, and made an examination of her small but valuable cargo, and guest and i agreed that he had underestimated its worth by quite four hundred or five hundred pounds--in fact, the whole cargo would sell in sydney or san francisco for about sixteen hundred pounds. we sailed together that afternoon, the cutter getting under weigh first. we had given yorke three of our men--napoleon the tongan, and two other natives--and before ten minutes had passed, guest and everyone else on board the _fray bentos_ could see that the _francesco_ could sail rings round our old brigantine, even in a stiff breeze, for the cutter drew as much water as we did, and had a big spread of canvas. by nightfall we were running before a lusty south-east breeze, the cutter keeping about half a mile to windward of us, and taking in her gaff topsail, when it became dark, otherwise she would have run ahead of, and lost us before morning. at daylight, when i went on deck, she was within a cable's length, yorke was steering--smoking as usual--and no one else was visible on deck. i hailed him: "good morning, captain; where are your men?" "taking it out in 'bunk, oh,'" he answered with a laugh. "i came on deck about two hours ago, and told them to turn in until four bells." "you'll ruin them for the _fray bentos_, sir," cried our mate with grumbling good-humour. "why don't you start one of 'em at the galley fire for your coffee!" "because i'm coming aboard you for it," was the reply. he hauled in the main-sheet, lashed the tiller, went quietly forward without awakening his native seamen, and put the staysail to windward. then he came amidships again to the main hatch, picked up the little dingy which was lying there, and, despite his bad hand, slid her over the cutter's rail into the water as if she were a toy, got in, and sculled over to the brigantine, leaving the cutter to take care of herself! charley king, the mate of the _fray bentos_ turned to me in astonishment. he was himself one of the finest built and most powerful men i had ever met, not thirty years of age, and had achieved a great reputation as a long-distance swimmer and good all-round athlete. "why, mr. drake, that dingy must weigh three hundred pounds, if she weighs an ounce, for she's heavy oak built! and yet with one gammy hand he can put her over the side as if she was made of brown paper." yorke sculled alongside, made fast to the main chains, clambered over the bulwarks, and stepped aboard in his usual quiet way, as if nothing out of the common had occurred, and asked the mate what he thought of the _francesca_ as a sailer. king looked at him admiringly for a moment. "she's a daisy, captain yorke.... but you oughtn't to have put your boat over the side by yourself, sir, with that bad hand of yours." the big man laughed so genuinely, and with such an infectious ring in his voice, that even our kanaka steward, who was bringing us our coffee, laughed too. the dingy, he said, was very light, and there was no need for him to call one of the men to help him. as we drank our coffee he chatted very freely with us, and drew our attention to the lovely effect caused by the rising sun upon a cluster of three or four small thickly-wooded islets, which lay between the two vessels and the mainland of new britain, whereupon king, who had no romance in his composition, remarked that for his part he could not see much difference between one sunrise or sunset and another. "one means a lot of wind, and another none at all; one means decent weather and another means rotten weather, or middlin' weather." "ah, mr. king, you look at everything from a sailor's point of view," he said good-naturedly. "now, there's nothing gives me more pleasure than to watch a sunset and sunrise anywhere in the tropics--particularly if there's land in the foreground or background--i never miss a sunrise in the south seas if i can help it." presently we began to talk of the voyage, and i asked him a question--which only at that moment occurred to me--concerning himself before we met. "i wonder, captain yorke, when your crew were cut off, that it did not occur to you to run down the west coast of new ireland, between it and new britain, to blanche bay, where there is a german station, and where you could have obtained assistance. it would have been much easier for you instead of that long buffeting about on the east coast." he made no answer at first, and i saw that his face had changed colour. then he answered slowly: "just so. i knew all about the germans at blanche bay, but i did not want to go there--for very good reasons. will you come aboard and have some breakfast with me? i'll send you back again any time you like; the sea is so smooth, as far as that goes, that i could run the cutter alongside, and let you step off on to your own deck." just as we were pushing off from the brigantine, guest came on deck, glass in hand, to have a look at the cluster of islands, at the same time calling out to yorke and myself to wait a little. after scanning the islands from the deck, he went aloft for a better view, then descended and came aft again to the rail. "good morning, captain yorke. i've just been taking a look at those islands over there, and an idea has just come to me. but, first of all, are they marked on your chart? they are on mine, but not even named--just dots." "neither are they on my big sheet chart--and i have no other of this part of the western pacific." "well then, here's my idea. i see from aloft that there is a good-sized blue water lagoon there, and as likely as not there may be pearl-shell in it. anyway, it's worth seeing into, and so if drake and yourself like to take our boat and half a dozen men, you might have a look in there. i can't see any houses, but at the same time, be careful. you can run in with the cutter pretty close, and then go ashore in the boat. you are bound to find a passage into the lagoon somewhere or other. i'll send tim rotumah and george" (two of our native crew who were good divers) "with you in the boat; they'll soon let you know if there is any shell in the lagoon. if there is, light a fire, and make a smoke, and i'll anchor the brigantine and come after you." i was delighted with this, and at once returned on board, while yorke went off to the cutter to give his crew their instructions. in ten or fifteen minutes the whaleboat was over the side awaiting me, manned by six of our native crew, all of whom were armed with snider carbines and revolvers. pushing off from the _fray bentos_, we went alongside the _francesco_ to pick up yorke, who was waiting for the boat. as the wind had now fallen very light, he suggested to me to make a start at once, leaving the cutter in charge of napoleon, with orders to anchor if it fell calm, and he was on easy soundings. the morning was deliciously bright, clear, and, for those latitudes at that season of the year, very cool. as the boat skimmed over the placid surface of the ocean, "schools" of bright silvery gar-fish and countless thousands of small flying squid sprang into the air and fell with a simultaneous splash into the water on each side and ahead of us. then "george," a merry-faced, broad-chested native of anaa, in the paumotu islands, after an inquiring glance at me, broke out into a bastard samoan-tokelauan canoe song, with a swinging chorus, altering and improvising as he sang, showing his white teeth, as every now and then he smiled at yorke and myself when making some humorous play upon the words of the original song, praising the former for his skill and bravery, and his killing of the man-eating savages of new hanover, his great strength and stature, and his kindly heart--"a heart which groweth from his loins upwards to his throat." long, long years have passed since that day, but i shall always remember how yorke turned to me with a smile when at something george had sung, the rest of our crew burst into approving laughter. "what is he saying about me?--of course i can recognise that 'ioka' means 'yorke,'" he said. "it's extremely personal, but highly complimentary to you. now, wait a bit, till they come to the chorus, and i'll try and translate it. there, he's starting:" "miti ioka, malie toa, toa malohi kapeni iota, arii vaka! tule ioka, fana tonu! mate puaka uri, kai tino. maumau lava, nofo noa! maumau lava, nofo noa t halo! tama, halo foe!!! "e aue l le tiga ina ma kalã¢ga, ma kalã¢ga o fafine lalolagi e kau iloay i nofa noa kapeni ioka halo! tama, halo foe!!!" "which goes," i said, "as far as i can understand, something like this--'mr. yorke, warrior brave and fighter strong, captain yorke, the sailor captain, leader yorke who fired so truly, slew the black, man-eating pigs of savages! oh, the pity he is single, oh, the pity he is single! _pull, men, pull!_ the next verse says that did the world of women know that such a fine man as yourself was a bachelor, they would consume themselves with grief." "i wonder why they should take it for granted that i am a single man," he laughed, as he began to fill his pipe; then he added quietly--"i may be a widower for all i know. i was married in copenhagen thirty years ago, and have never seen my wife since, and trust i never may." then in a moment he changed the subject, and i took good care not to mention the matter again. an hour after leaving the brigantine, we found a passage--narrow but safe--leading into the lagoon, which was a mile or mile and a half in width, and but for the one opening in the reef, completely land locked by four small islands, all low and densely wooded with banyan and other trees, and connected with each other at low tide. here and there, at intervals, were groves of coco-palms, and a few _vi_ trees--the wild mango of the western pacific, growing close down to the beach, which on the inner side of the lagoon was of bright yellow sand, and presented a very pleasing appearance. chapter iv a very brief trial of the lagoon, at various depths, soon convinced us that it contained no pearl-shell, both george and the rotumah man coming up empty-handed after each dive, and pronouncing the bottom to be _ogã©_, _i.e._, poverty-stricken as regarded shell. but we made one rather pleasing discovery, which was that the lagoon contained a vast number of green turtle. we could see the creatures, some of them being of great size, swimming about beneath the boat in all directions. it at once occurred to me that i should let guest know, for we were getting short of provisions on board the _fray bentos_, and had been using native food--pork, yams, and taro, to eke out our scanty store. here, now, was an opportunity of getting a supply of fresh meat which would last us for a couple of months or more; as we could easily stow eighty or a hundred turtle on board, and kill one or two every day as required. we always carried with us a heavy turtle-net, made of coir fibre, which i had bought two years before in the tokelau group. but, first of all, i consulted with our native crew as to whether we could dispense with the net by remaining on the island all night and watching for the turtle to come ashore. they all assured me that we should get none, or at best but few, as it was not the laying season. "very well," i said, "go off to the ship, and tell the captain that there is no pearl-shell here, but plenty of turtle. ask him if he will let you have the turtle-net, so that we can set it across the mouth of the passage as soon as it becomes dark; and tell him we shall come off again by midnight if he does not care about our staying till the morning; but that as we are pretty sure to get a lot of turtle, he had better send the longboat as well." yorke, at first, intended to go off again to the _francesca_, but i told him i was so sure that guest would come to an anchor when he heard about the turtle, that he (guest) would be sure to tell napoleon and the other men on board the cutter to do the same. "in fact," i added, "a supply of turtle will be a god-send to us, and the skipper will not mind, i am sure, if we stay here for a couple of days, under the circumstances." we pulled ashore to a little sandy beach, and yorke and myself, taking our rifles, ammunition, and a few biscuits each, got out, the native crew at once starting off again for the ship, pulling as hard as they could, for they were eager to return with the turtle-net and enjoy themselves as only south sea islanders and other of nature's children do when fishing. about an hour after the boat had gone, we set to work to get some coconuts to drink, both for ourselves and the boat's crew when they returned. yorke ascended a very tall palm--about sixty feet in height--like a native, and began throwing down the young nuts. i took a shorter tree near by, and was leisurely twisting off the heavy nuts, when he, who had a good view of the sea, called out to me that it had fallen calm. "and what i don't like, drake, is this," he added--"there's a dull, greasy look on the water over to the eastward there, and i'd like to be on board the francesca instead of being here. i don't like it, i can tell you, and i'm sorry we did not go off in the boat." i, in my fatuous, youthful conceit, laughed at his forebodings. "it's only a new britain squall--a lot of wind for ten minutes, then a power of rain for another twenty, and then it'll be over." yorke, however, was too old and experienced a seaman to disregard the signs of coming danger. he quickly descended from his tree, and i followed suit. "there's something more than a squall coming, my lad. let us cut through the bush across to the weather side of the island, and try and stop the boat. we can do it if we are quick." the island was less than a mile in width, even at its broadest portion, which was where we had landed; so, after a hurried drink, we picked up our rifles and started off to try to intercept the boat as she was pulling down the outer and eastern shore. but before we had made two hundred yards, we came to a dead stop, our progress being barred by a dense thicket of thorny and stunted undergrowth. we turned aside and skirted the thicket for a quarter of a mile, then tried again, with the same result--it was absolutely impossible to force our way through the obstacle. by this time the air had become stiflingly hot and oppressive, and the rapidly darkening sky presaged the coming storm. from every pore in our bodies the perspiration was streaming profusely, and our hands and faces were scratched and bleeding. "we must go back," said yorke, "we cannot possibly get to the other side of the island through this damnable scrub. the only thing we can do is to run along the inner beach of the island till we come to its end, wade across the reef, and try to stop the boat before she has gone too far. this is no common squall, i'm afraid--it's going to be a hurricane. come on." we started off at a run, along the hard sand, but before we had done the first quarter of a mile, i felt that i could go no further, for i was pumped out, could scarcely breathe, and felt a strange, unnatural faintness overcoming me--a not uncommon sensation experienced by many people just before a hurricane or an earthquake. "you must go on alone," i said, pantingly, to yorke; "leave me here. i'll be all right, even if i have to stop here a month of sundays. i can't starve in such a place as this." pitching his own and my rifle up on the bank above high water mark, he seized me and lifted me up on his back, telling me to hold on, as he meant to make a big try for the boat. it was no use my protesting--he set off again at a steady run, my weight apparently impeding his progress no more than if he had been carrying a doll instead of ten stone. at last we gained the end of the island, where there was a break in the verdure, and from which we had a brief view of the sea before it was blotted out by the black wall of the coming hurricane. "we're done as far as getting on board is concerned," he said, as i slid down his back on to the sand; "but, thank god, the boat is safe. in another ten minutes she would have been too late to have reached either the cutter or brigantine, and have been smothered. look, captain guest is all ready, and so is the cutter!" i got up on my feet, just in time to see the boat go alongside the brigantine, which was under a close reefed lower topsail and a bit of her mainsail only--for guest knew what was coming, and had prepared to meet it; the cutter, too, was reefed down, and had taken her dingy on deck. at that moment, however, both vessels were becalmed; but scarcely had the whale boat been hoisted up to the starboard davits of the _fray bentos_ and secured, when the hurricane struck both vessels. i thought at first that our poor old brigantine was going to turn turtle, for she was all but thrown on her beam ends; but righting herself gallantly, she plunged away into the growing darkness, followed by the cutter, and in five minutes both were hidden from view, and yorke and myself had to throw ourselves flat on our faces to avoid being blown down the beach into the lagoon. i had once, years before when a boy in fiji, seen a bad hurricane, and was rather proud of my experience, but i never saw, and never wish to see again, such a truly terrifying and appalling sight as my companion and i now witnessed--for within an hour all nature seemed to have gone stark, raving mad, and i never expected to see the next morning's sun. i do not think it was the fearful force of the wind which so terrified me into a state of helplessness as the diabolical clamour--the clashing and tearing and rending asunder of the trees, accompanied by a prolonged howling mingled with a deep droning hum like one sometimes hears when a volcano is in eruption--and, in a minor key, the dulled roaring of the surf as the mighty seas swept over the outer reef, and broke over the weather shore with such tremendous force that the island seemed to tremble to its very foundations. unable to make himself heard in the pandemonium roaring around us, yorke turned to me, and gripping me by one hand, and shielding his eyes with the other from the hurtling showers of sand and pebbles which threatened to cut our faces to pieces, he managed to drag me along the beach to a low ledge of coral rocks, under the shelter of which we were protected from the fury of the wind, and, in a measure, safe from flying branches, though all along the beach coco-palms were being torn up by the roots, or their lofty crowns cut off as if they were no stronger than a dahlia or some such weakly plant. as we crouched on the sand under the ledge of rock, a terrific but welcome downpour of rain fell, and we were able to satisfy our thirst by pressing our mouths to crevices in the rock overhead. but we were not long allowed to remain undisturbed in our shelter, for, although the tide was on the ebb, the enormous influx of water, driven over the reef by the violence of the wind, so swelled the lagoon that we had to abandon our refuge and crawl on our hands and knees up over the bank, and thence into the thorny scrub, where we were at least safe from falling trees, there being none near us. "i must try and get our rifles before it is too late," shouted yorke in my ear. "i know the place, but if i don't get there pretty quick, i shall never be able to recognise it. stay where you are until i get back, then we'll try and find a better camping place before night comes on--if this little tin-pot island isn't blown out of the water over on to new guinea in the meantime." by this time i was beginning to get some courage, and to feel ashamed of myself; so, as soon as yorke had crept out of the scrub, i braced myself up, and taking out my sheath knife, began to cut away the thorny branches, and pull up by the roots some of the scrub around me, so as to make more room. the soil consisted of decomposed shell and vegetable matter, very soft and porous, underneath which were loose coral slabs, and i soon had a space cleared large enough for us both to lie down upon. then i started to enclose it on three sides by a low wall of the flat coral stones, across which i laid a thick and nearly rain-proof covering of branches and leaves, and when yorke returned an hour later, i was almost finished, and had begun to make a fire of dead roots and branches. "that's grand," he said, as he laid down the rifles. "i was wondering if your matches were dry. mine are spoilt, as i had them loose in my pocket. how is your tobacco?" "quite dry, too. here you are, fill your pipe." the man's thoughtfulness showed at once. "no, thank you--not just yet. i'll improve this newly-erected mansion of ours by getting coconut branches up from the beach. we might as well make our roof as watertight as we can before dark. then i want something to eat, and there are plenty of coconuts lying about everywhere." "we won't starve," i said; "there are any amount of robber crabs in this scrub, and to-night we can get as many as we want, if we can make a bright fire." by dark we had succeeded in carrying up thirty or forty coconut branches, and covering our sleeping place over in a more satisfactory manner, though we were every now and then chilled to the bone by the stinging rain. our rifles, matches, tobacco, and a few biscuits, we placed in a dry spot, and then built up a small but hot fire of roots under the shelter, and, after eating a meal of coconut and biscuit, we filled our pipes, piled on more roots, and sat by the fire drying our clothes, and listening to the wild uproar of wind and sea, congratulating ourselves upon being in a spot where we were at least safe from the wind, for our camp was at least eight or ten feet below the general level of the island, both on its windward and leeward sides. all that night the wind blew with terrific violence, and the noise of the surf thrashing upon the coral barriers of the island was something indescribable. at about midnight, just after a lull succeeded by a heavy fall of rain, the wind hauled round two or three points to the southward, and, if possible, blew with still greater violence. the crashing of trees mingling with the demoniacal shriek of the hurricane, was enough to disturb the mind of the bravest; but my companion lay quietly beside the fire, smoking his pipe and talking to me as he would had we been seated at the supper table on board the _fray bentos_. yet that he was deeply anxious about our ship-mates i well knew, when, bidding me good-night, he laid his great frame upon the sand and went to sleep. chapter v by dawn on the following morning, the hurricane had lost its strength and settled down into a hard gale from the north-east. when we crawled out from our shelter, a fearful scene of desolation met our eyes; not more than a hundred coco-palms were left standing on the weather side of the island, and enormous boulders of coral rock, torn off the reef by the violence of the sea, were piled up in wild confusion along the shore, while, at the north end, the surf had made a clean breach over the land, with devastating effect. on the inner beach of the lagoon, the destructive results of the wind and sea had not been so great, although vast numbers of fish were lying dead on the sand, or among the soaked and flattened undergrowth above high water mark. we at once collected a few, lit a fire, roasted them over the coals, and made a good breakfast, finishing up with some young drinking coconuts, hundreds of which were lying about us. we knew that, until the weather moderated, there was little likelihood of our seeing the brigantine and cutter--if we ever saw either again. the ocean for many hundreds of miles around us was full of dangers, for it was unsurveyed, and risky even to a ship in good weather. many of the islands, shoals and reefs marked on the charts had no existence, but still more were placed in wrong positions, and we both felt that it would be something marvellous if the two vessels escaped disaster. all we could do was to hope for the best, and wait patiently. as the rain had ceased, and the sun was shining brightly, although the gale was still blowing fiercely, we decided to cross to one of the other islands and make an examination of our surroundings. first of all, however, we examined our stock of ammunition, and found we had thirty-five cartridges between us; the rest of our effects consisted of about a quarter of a pound of plug tobacco, a sheath knife and a pocket knife, a small box of vestas, and the clothes we had on. with some difficulty we managed to wade through the shallow passage dividing the island on which we had slept from the next, and found the latter to be much better wooded, wider, and three or four feet higher; and i had just observed to yorke that it would suit us better to live on than the other, when i came to a dead stop--right in front of us was a banyan tree, from a low branch of which was suspended a huge cane-work fishing basket! in a moment we hid ourselves, and remained quiet for a few minutes, scanning the surrounding bush carefully to see if there were any further signs of human occupancy, or the humans themselves. from the appearance of the basket, however, i judged that it had not been used for many weeks at least, and had been hung up to prevent its becoming rotten from lying on the moist, steamy soil. after satisfying ourselves that there were no natives--in our immediate vicinity at least--we set out again, proceeding very cautiously, and a short distance further on struck a dearly-defined native path; this we followed, and presently came in sight of half a dozen small thatched huts, under the shelter of two very large trees, from the branches of which were hanging fish baskets similar to that we had just seen. most of the huts, though damaged by the storm, were substantially built, and evidently had not long been vacated, for in a sort of cleared plot in front were a number of gaily-coloured crotons, which showed signs of having been recently tended--the grass had been pulled up around their roots, &c. in one of the huts we found some smaller fish traps, a number of fish spears, and two large wooden bowls. "it's a fishing village, belonging to the niggers on the mainland, i think," i said to yorke. "it is quite a common thing for them, both in new ireland and new britain, to have plantations or fishing stations on many of these small islands off the coast, and they come over three or four times a year to plant or fish. let us go on further." my surmise was correct, for, quite near the huts, was a large taro plantation, on which great labour and care had been expended. a brief examination of some of the tubers showed us that they were full grown. this was not a pleasant discovery, for we knew that the owners might be expected to put in an appearance at any moment after the gale ceased, in order to dig them up. "well, let us get on, and see what else we can discover," said yorke, shouldering his rifle. "the beggars can't get across from the mainland in such weather as this, so we need not be under any immediate alarm." by two in the afternoon we had thoroughly examined the whole of the four islands, but found no more houses, though on all of them we came across the inevitable fish-traps, and also a good-sized bamboo fishing raft, lying far up on the beach. this we at once carried off, and were about to hide in a thicket--little thinking it would prove such a dangerous acquisition--when yorke suggested a better course. it would be a mistake, he said, to leave the raft so far from our sleeping place, instead of taking it away, when not only should we have it near us in case of a sudden attack by the natives, but we could utilise it for fishing, and that by removing it to the southernmost islet, which was farthest away from the fishing village on the largest island, we could easily conceal it from view. the natives, he argued, would be bound to search for it on the islet where they had left the thing, and would conclude that it had been washed away in the hurricane, and therefore were hardly likely to come down to the southern islet, the inner beach of which could be seen from nearly every point on the lagoon. "so," he went on, "you see that if the black gentry do think that their raft might have been carried down to the inner beach of the south islet, they will only need to use their eyes to show them it isn't there. but it will be snug enough on the outer side of the island, where they won't dream of looking for it, and where we can use it whenever we like--for we'll shift our camp down there to-day.... god knows how long we may have to live here if anything has happened to the _fray bentos_ and the _francesca_ and so we must run no needless risks." "right," i assented, "and see, the wind is falling steadily, and there's not much of a swell inside the lagoon now. why not let us try and take the raft away with us at once, instead of coming for her in the morning?" we cut down a couple of young saplings for poles, carried the raft to the water, and launched it. it was big enough to support five or six people, but floated like a feather, and, to our delight, we found that we could pole it along in shallow water with the greatest of ease. by four o'clock we reached the island, and carried our craft up from the inner beach into a clump of trees. this spot, we thought, would make a good camp, as from it we commanded not only a good view of the lagoon, but of the sea to the south and west, and we felt certain that if guest turned up all right, he would look for us at this end of the atoll--even if he made it from the northward, and had to run the coast down. by supper time we had fixed ourselves up comfortably for the night. the rain now only fell at long intervals, the wind had fallen to a strong, steady breeze, and we made up a fire, and cooked some more fish, of which there were still numbers to be had on the beach merely for the trouble of picking them up. then we ate our supper, smoked a pipeful of our precious tobacco between us, and discussed our plans for the morrow, yorke listening to my suggestions as if they were put forward by a man of his own age and experience, instead of by one who was as yet but a young seaman, and a poor navigator. "i am quite sure," he said in his slow, quiet way, as he passed me the pipe, "that you and i will get along here all right for weeks, months--years even, if it has pleased the almighty to take our shipmates, and we have to live here till we are taken off by some ship, or can build a boat. your knowledge of ways and means of getting food, and living in such a place as this, is of more value than my seamanship and knowledge of navigation. come, let us get out to the beach and take a look at the weather." he placed his hand on my shoulder in such a kindly manner, as his bright blue eyes looked into mine, that, with the impulsiveness of youth, together with my intense admiration for the character of the man himself, i could not help saying: "captain yorke! please don't think i was boasting of what i could do in the way of getting food for us--and all that. you see, i have been in the south seas ever since i was a kid--and by nature i'm half a kanaka. i've lived among natives so long, and----" he held up his hand, smiling the while: "i'm glad to have such a good comrade as you, drake. you have the makings of a good sailorman in you, but you're too quick and excitable, and want an old wooden-headed, stolid buffer like me to steady you. now let us start." we walked across the narrow strip of land to the weather side, and sat down upon a creeper-covered boulder of coral rock. before us the ocean still heaved tumultuously, and the long, white-crested breakers thundered heavily on the short, fringing reef; but overhead was a wondrous sky of myriad stars, set in a vault of cloudless blue. "the gale is blowing itself out," said my companion. "we shall see a fine day in the morning. and, drake, we shall see the brigantine back in three days." "i hope so," i said, laughingly, "but i'm afraid we won't. both the brigantine and cutter must have had to heave to, or else run, and if they have run, they may be two hundred miles away from here by now. and i think that guest _would_ run to the westward for open water, instead of heaving-to among such an infernal lot of reefs and shoals." "whatever he may have done, he, and my cutter, too, are safe, and we shall see them back in three days," he reiterated, with such quiet emphasis, and with such a strangely confident, contented look in his eyes, that i also felt convinced the vessels would, as he said, turn up safely. we sat silent for some minutes, watching the sea, and noting how quickly the wind was falling, when presently my comrade turned to me. "you asked me why i did not try to make the german head station in blanche bay, after my crew were killed," he said. "well, i'll tell you. i am frightened of no man living, but i happened to hear the name of the manager there--a-captain sternberg, an ex-captain of the german navy. he and i served together in the same ship--and i am a deserter from the german service." i was astonished. "you!" i exclaimed; "surely you are not a german?" "indeed, i am," he replied, "and if i fell into the hands or the german naval authorities, or any german consul, or other official anywhere, i should have but a short time in this world." "why, what could they do?" "send me home to be tried--and shot." "surely they cannot shoot a man for desertion in the german navy." "there is something beyond desertion in my case-i killed an officer. sternberg knows the whole story, and though as a man and a gentleman he would feel for me, he would have no hesitation in arresting me and sending me home in irons, if he could get me. and he could not fail to recognise me, although eight and twenty years have passed since he last saw me." "but he is not an imperial officer now," i remarked. "yes, he is. he is vice-consul for germany in the western pacific, and, as such, would have authority to apprehend me, and apprehend me he certainly would, though, as i have said, he knows my story, and when we served together, was always a kind and good friend to me, despite the fact that he was an officer and i was not; for i came from as good a family as his own--and that goes a long way in both the german army and navy." i made some sympathetic remark, and then yorke resumed: "what i am telling you now--and i'll tell you the whole story--is no secret, for thousands of people have read of the brandt extradition case in the united states. twenty years ago i was arrested in san francisco at the instance of the german consul there, but managed to escape after being in custody for six weeks. "my real name is brandt. my father was a german, my mother a danish lady--a native of klampenborg, a small sea-coast town not far from copenhagen. my father was an officer in the army, and was well-known as an asiatic traveller and linguist, and i was the only child. at fifteen years ot age, much to my delight, i went into the navy, served one commission in the baltic, and two on the west coast of south america. then when i was about twenty-one years of age, i was given, through my father's influence, a minor position on the staff of a scientific expedition sent out by the german geographical society to arabia. i came home at the end of a year, and was given three months' leave, at the end of which i was to join a new ship. "being pretty liberally supplied with money by my father--who was a man of means--i determined to spend my leave in london, and there i met the woman who was to prove the ruin of my future. she was the daughter of the woman in whose house i lodged in chelsea, and was a very handsome, fascinating girl about nineteen. i fell madly in love with her, and she professed to return my feelings, and i, poor young fool, believed in her. her mother, who was a cunning old harridan, and greedy and avaricious to a degree, gave us every opportunity of being together. as i spent my money most lavishly on the girl, and they both knew my father was well-off, and i was the only son, they had merely to spread their net for me to fall into it. "well, i married the girl, both she and her mother promising to keep the matter secret from my parents until after i returned from my next voyage and got a commission. i knew well that i should get into very serious trouble with my superiors if the fact of my marriage became known, but was so infatuated with the girl that i allowed no considerations to influence me. "a month before my leave expired, i sent my wife over to bremerhaven, where i had some friends on whose secrecy i could rely. my ship--a small gunboat--was being fitted out at that port, and my wife seemed delighted that she would see me pretty frequently before i sailed. i was cautious enough not to travel with her from london, for that would have meant almost certain detection, and, as an additional precaution, she went to my friends in bremerhaven under her maiden name. i was to follow her in a week, by the next steamer. "that evening, as i was being driven home to my wife's mother's house in chelsea, the horse bolted. i was thrown out of the cab, and half-an-hour later, i was in a hospital with a broken arm and severe internal injuries. it was six weeks before i was able to leave england to join my ship; but my father had written to the navy office, telling of my accident, and my leave had been extended. during all this time my wife wrote to me weekly, telling me she was very miserable at my not allowing her to return to england to nurse me, but would obey me; for i had written to her and told her not to return, as i did not think it advisable--the doctors and nurses at the hospital knew i was in the german navy, and i was then becoming somewhat fearful of the news of my marriage getting to the knowledge of the naval authorities. "when i reached bremerhaven, i had still three days of my extended leave to expire, so had no need to report myself; but at once went to my friends' house, where i met my wife, who was overjoyed to see me again. my friends, too, welcomed me warmly, though i somehow fancied there seemed to be some underlying restraint upon them. they were quite a young couple: the husband was a clerk in the customhouse, and he and i had been friends from boyhood. "in the morning i went to look at my new ship, and was greatly pleased to find that my old officer, lieutenant sternberg, had been appointed to her. he saw me at once, came along the deck, and spoke very kindly to me. whilst he was talking to me, an officer from the port guardship came on board. he was a very handsome man, about thirty, with a deep scar across his forehead, and i noticed that he looked at me very keenly--almost rudely--and i fancied i saw something like a sneer on his face as he turned away to speak to sternberg. "my young friend, the custom house clerk, whose name was muller, returned every day from his office at six o'clock, when we had supper, and on this occasion i began to tell him of my new ship, and then said casually: "by the way, who is that conceited-looking fellow from the guardship--a man with an ugly scar across his forehead?" "no one answered, and then to my surprise i saw that muller was looking inquiringly at my wife, whose face suddenly became scarlet, while mrs. muller bent her face over her plate. then muller looked at me and said quietly: "'that was captain decker. i believe that he has the honour of the friendship of frau brandt.' "there was something so stern in his tones that i could not understand; but another look at my wife's face filled me with the blackest misgivings. she had turned a deathly pale, and, faltering something inaudible, rose from the table and went to her room. then i asked muller what it meant. "'ask your wife,' he said sadly; 'you are my dear friend, and she is my guest--but her conduct has not been satisfactory.' "i now insisted upon him telling me more, and soon learnt the whole miserable story. my wife had been in the habit of meeting captain decker clandestinely ever since she had been in bremerhaven, although she had denied it when mrs. muller had indignantly threatened to write and tell me if she did not at once cease the intimacy. this she had sworn to do, but, muller said, she had, he feared, violated her promise frequently, though he could not absolutely prove it. "i went direct to my wife. instead of a shrinking, trembling woman, i found a defiant devil--a shameless creature who coolly admitted her guilt, told me that she had never cared for me, and that she had only married me to escape from the monotony of her london life with her mother--if she was her mother, she added with a mocking laugh. "thank god, i didn't hurt her! the revelation was a heavy one, but i braced myself up, and the rage and contempt that filled me were mingled with some sort of pity. i did not even reproach her. i had in my pockets about thirty pounds in english gold. i put down twenty on the table. "'there are twenty pounds,' i said--'take it and go. i will send you another two hundred pounds as soon as i can communicate with my father--on one condition.' "'what is it?' she said sullenly. "'that you'll never try to see me, or harass me again. if you do, by god! i'll kill you.' "i promise you that much," she replied. in half an hour she had left the house, and i never saw or heard of her again. "that evening i made special preparations. first of all i wrote to my poor father, and told him everything, and bade muller and his wife goodbye, telling them i was going on board my ship. they, pitying me deeply, bade me farewell with tears. "but i had no such intention. i wanted to settle scores with the man who had wronged me. at a marine store dealer's that night i bought two common cutlasses, and waited for my chance. i had learnt that decker went to the service club on certain evenings, and stayed very late. "my time came the following night. i saw my man come out of the club, and followed him closely till he entered a quiet street. then i called him by name. he turned and faced me and asked me angrily what i wanted. "'i am theodor brandt,' i said, and handed him one of the two cutlasses i was carrying under my overcoat. "the man was no coward, and fought well, but in less than a minute i ran him clean through the body. he fell in the muddy street, and by the time i had dragged him away into the shadow of a high wooden fence enclosing a timber yard, was dead. half an hour later i was on board a fishing-smack, bound for wangeroog, one of the frisian islands, off the coast. at that place i remained in safety for a month, then got away to amsterdam, and from there to java. then for the next eight-and-twenty years, down to this very moment, i have been a wanderer on the face of the earth. six years after i escaped i joined an american man-of-war--the _iroquois_--at canton, and when we were paid off in the states i took out my naturalisation papers. this served me well, when, two years afterwards, i was recognised at san francisco by some german bluejackets as 'brandt, the murderer of captain decker,' and arrested. fortunately, i had money, and while the german consul was trying hard to get me handed over to the german naval authorities on the pacific coast, my lawyers managed to get me out on bail. i got away down to the hawaiian islands in a lumber ship, and--well, since then i've been knocking around anywhere and everywhere.... come, let us turn in." chapter vi at dawn the wind had died away to a light breeze, and the sun rose to shine upon an ocean of unspecked blue. to the eastward, the slopes of new britain were hidden from our view by a thick mist, only the tops of some high mountain peaks far inland showing above, and there seemed to be every appearance of the fine weather lasting. this gave us much satisfaction, and after a bathe in a rocky pool on the reef, we ate our breakfast of fish and coconut with good spirits, then filling our pipes, went down to the inner beach to bask in the glorious sunshine. "if this sort ot weather keeps up," i remarked to yorke, "i'm afraid your prediction about our seeing guest and the cutter in another two days won't be verified--it'll fall calm before noon to-day, and may keep so for a week. i've known a calm to last for a solid ten days on the north side of new britain." "perhaps so," he replied; "but then the current about here sets strongly to the eastward, and somehow i feel certain that, wind or no wind, we'll see the ships." "well, if we do, you ought to give up sailoring, captain yorke, and go into business as a prophet. i for one would always come to you for a tip. but, joking apart, let us imagine that guest or the cutter did not run far to the eastward, but hove-to, and as soon as the hurricane had blown itself out, headed back for us; in such a case, both vessels may be within half a day's sail of us at this very moment." "that is quite possible--it is also possible they may be within twenty miles of us, becalmed. it would not surprise me if guest actually drifts in sight of these islands, and comes to look for us in his boat." "now that brings me to the kernel of my imagination. i think it very likely he may have no boat to send, and----" he gave me a mighty thump on the back. "good boy! i know what you're thinking of--the raft?" "exactly, captain. so don't you think it would be as well for us to turn to at once, and make a couple of good paddles? though in an emergency the butt ends of dry coconut branches do very well for paddles." then i went on to say that it was quite likely that guest had lost both his boats, and the cutter her dingy, before there was time to have them properly secured; and that the brigantine had lost the whaler, which had brought us ashore, i was sure of, for she had, as i have mentioned, been nearly thrown over on her beam ends when struck by the first blast, and the boat must certainly either have been hopelessly stove when she was forced below, or torn away from the davits by the weight of water in her when the ship righted herself. we set to at once with a good will--yorke overhauling the cane fastenings with which the great bamboos were lashed together, whilst i went along the beach in search of some young _futu_ trees, the wood of which is soft when green, but dries hard, and could be easily worked, even by such a tool as a sheath knife. a quarter of a mile from our camp i found just what i wanted--three or four young _futu_ saplings lying on the ground, torn up by the roots. taking two ot the best, i stripped off the branches, and returned to my companion, who was still at work on the raft, relashing its timbers wherever needed. in a couple of hours i had made quite a decent pair of paddles, each about four feet in length, and with four inches of blade in the widest part. then yorke, having finished with the raft, went with me along the beach, and collected some old coconuts for food, and some young ones to drink, for, as my comrade observed, one never knew what might happen, and it would be as well to have some provisions all ready to hand in case of emergency. there were still thousands of dead fish to be seen everywhere lying on the sand, cast up among the _dã©bris_ above high-water mark, but these were now turning putrid, and of no use. we had noticed a huge banyan tree not far distant from our sleeping place, which was the roosting and breeding place of a vast number of whale birds, so yorke proposed that we should go there and see if we could kill some by hurling sticks at them. we had often seen this done by the natives ot the western caroline islands, for the birds are very stupid, and allow themselves, when not on the wing, to be approached quite closely. we cut ourselves each a half-dozen of short, heavy throwing-sticks of green wood, and set out for the rookery, and within an hour had killed thirty or forty of the poor birds, some of which we at once picked, cleaned, and roasted. we had no lack of salt, for every rock and shrub above high-water mark on the weather side of the island was covered with a thin incrustation of it, caused by the rapid evaporation of the spray under a torrid sun. the remainder of the birds we cooked later in the day, intending them as a stand-by. in the afternoon we again bathed, this time in the lagoon, and yorke, who was one of the strongest and swiftest swimmers, for an european, that i had ever seen, succeeded in capturing a turtle which was lying asleep on the surface of the water, and brought it ashore; but it proved to be so old and poor that we let it go again in disgust. towards the close of the day we again crossed the islet to have a better look at the new britain shore, the heavy mist which had hung over it most of the day having now vanished. that the native owners of the plantations would put in an appearance before many days had passed i was certain, for they would be anxious to see what damage had been done by the hurricane, and no doubt dig up some of the taro, which, as i have said, was fully grown. the moment we emerged from the scrub out upon the eastern shore, we obtained a splendid view of the opposite coast of the great island, though the actual shore was not visible on account of the extreme lowness of the belt of littoral, which was many miles in width; but by climbing a tree we could just discern the long, dark line of palms, and here and there a narrow strip of white, denoting either surf or a sandy beach. "why," i said to yorke, "that land cannot be more than five miles distant to its nearest point, and if there are niggers living there we should see their fires to-night, and----" the next moment i uttered a loud hurrah! and nearly fell off the tree in my excitement, for away on the northern horizon was a sail, shining snowy-white in the rays of the sinking sun! yorke echoed my cheer. "a day sooner than i prophesied, drake! wish we had a glass, so that we could make out which it is. i am rather inclined to think it is the _fray bentos_ it looks too big for the cutter. anyway, whichever it is, she's becalmed; but even if there is not a breath of wind during the night, she'll be closer in in the morning, as the current is bound to set her along this way." we descended from the tree jubilantly, and i suggested that we should make a big blaze on the eastern shore, so as to let the ship know we saw her, but the more cautious yorke said it would be rather risky. natives, he said, might be quite near at that moment, a party of canoes could have easily crossed over during the day, and we should be none the wiser unless we happened to see the reflections of their fires, after they had arrived, on the lagoon waters. so, after waiting another ten minutes, when the sun set, we returned to camp. "let us kill the fatted calf and divide it between us," said my companion, taking our plug of tobacco and cutting it in halves; "i'm going to smoke all night, or at any rate until i fall asleep. did you see how the sun set? well, that thick, yellow haze means a calm to-morrow, to a dead certainty, and i shouldn't be a bit surprised if we see guest pulling into the lagoon at daylight, that is, if he has a boat left." i do not think either of us slept for more than a quarter of an hour that night. that yorke could have done so, i do not doubt, but i would persist in talking, getting up, walking about, and smoking, and he, good-naturedly, kept awake on my account. the night was wondrously calm and beautiful, so calm and quiet that there was not the slightest surf on the outer reef, and the only sound that broke the silence would be the croak of some night-fishing bird, as it rose, prey in bill, from the slumbering lagoon. as soon as ever we could see our way through to the other side of the island, we were afoot, unheeding the drenching we got from the dew-soaked trees whenever we touched a branch. within five minutes after we had emerged out into the open the sun rose, and a cheer broke from us when we saw both the cutter and the brigantine lying becalmed about four miles away, between the islet and the mainland of new britain, and almost abreast of where we stood. "they have both lost all the boats, i am almost sure," said yorke, "or we should see one coming ashore; unless, indeed, a boat is already pulling down the lagoon on the other side. let us wait an hour. that will decide us what to do; if we see no boat between now and then, we can be assured that guest has none to send, and that he is waiting for a breeze, so that he can run in close to the reef, and try to get within hail of us. i daresay that he has a raft of some sort already made, and is trying to get closer to the land to send it ashore for us. so we'll give him a pleasant surprise." we waited impatiently till the hour had passed, but could see no sign of a boat putting off from, or on the way from the brigantine, and were then certain that she had none to send, as if it had left the vessel, even at daylight, it would have entered the lagoon and been with us by that time. whilst we were waiting we had piled together on the shore a great heap of dried coconut branches, on top of which we threw masses of a thick, green, saline creeper. this heap we lit as a signal, and a pillar of dense smoke rose high in the windless atmosphere. it was answered by guest in a few minutes--not by a gun, as we expected, but by a similar signal of smoke, caused by a mass of cotton waste being soaked in coal tar and ignited. "he's answering us," exclaimed yorke. "now, let's get the raft launched and make a start." we tore back through the scrub to our camp, i panting with excitement, yorke as cool as ever. carrying the raft down to the water we quickly put on board the bundles of young coconuts, not deeming it worth while to bother with the old ones and the cooked birds, as we quite expected to be alongside the _fray bentos_ within three hours at least, the sea being as calm as a mill-pond, and the raft very light. "go easy, my lad, go easy," said yorke with a smile, as he saw the state of flurry i was in. "we've got two or three hours paddling to do, so don't knock yourself up needlessly. now, what about our rifles?" i had actually forgotten them, but at once ran back for them (the cartridges we always kept in our pockets), and picking one up in each hand, tore down the bank again, caught my left foot in a vine, and pitched upon my nose on the top of the broken coral and pebbles covering the beach with such violence that had it not been for the muzzle of the rifle i was carrying in my right hand plunging into the loose stones, and bringing me up sharply, i might have broken my jaw against a big boulder, which just caught me on the chin. pretending i was not hurt, though my chin was skinned, and my shoulder was strained, i picked myself up, handed the rifles to yorke, and said i was ready. "take a drink first," he said in his authoritative, yet sympathetic way, as he opened a young coconut. "then fill your pipe and rest awhile. we're in no hurry for ten minutes. poor chap, you did do a flyer. talk about the gadarene swine! why you could give them points in running down steep places!" i certainly had given myself a tremendous shaking, for i felt quite dizzy, but after a few draws at my pipe, said i was fit to paddle the raft to cape horn. we pushed off, then poled along shore till we came to the passage, which was as smooth as glass. here, on account of the deep water, we had to take to our paddles, and were soon out in the open sea, heading for the vessels. the sun was intensely hot, but we took no heed of it, and congratulated ourselves upon having such a calm sea, instead of having to paddle against a swell, which would have greatly impeded our progress. for the first mile or so we went along in great style--then, to our consternation, we suddenly ran right into a heavy tide rip, and away we went at the rate of three or four knots an hour to the south-east, and towards the new britain shore. the belt or tide-rip seemed to be about a mile in width, and although we paddled furiously in the endeavour to get out of the whirling, seething stream, it was in vain--the raft spun round and round with such rapidity that we lost control over, and had to let her go; for not only were we unable to make any headway, but the manner in which we were spinning round would not allow us to keep our feet, and began to make us sea-sick. after half an hour or more of this, we at last saw a chance of getting out of the rip into a side eddy; and, putting forth all our strength, we just succeeded in doing so, only to be menaced by a fresh and more alarming danger. yorke, dashing the pouring perspiration from his brow with his hand, had just stood up to get a look at the brigantine and cutter, when he uttered an oath. "by god, we're in for it now! look, here's four canoes, filled with niggers, heading dead on for us. the beggars see us, too!" i stood up beside him, and saw, about a quarter of a mile away, four canoes, each of which was carrying six or eight natives, coming towards us at a furious rate. they were, like all new britain canoes, very low down in the water, which, together with our own troubles when we were in the tide rip, had prevented our seeing them long before. "lucky we have not wasted any of our cartridges" said yorke grimly; "we'll give them all the fight they want. but let them get closer, while we head back for the ships. we _must_ get out of this current--we can lick the niggers easy enough; but if we get into that tide-rip again, we'll be carried out of sight of the brigantine by midday." plunging our paddles into the water, we sent our bamboo craft along till we were in absolute safety as far as the tide-rip was concerned. then yorke laid down his paddle. "we're all right now, drake; and now we'll give these man-chawing beggars a bit of a surprise. they mean to knock us on the head in another ten minutes, and take our carcasses ashore for to-night's dinner. you are the younger man, and can shoot better than i, so i'll be polite and give you first show. sight for five hundred yards for a trial shot, at the leading canoe. but wait a minute--don't stand up." he quickly piled up the young coconuts in a firm heap, and then stood over me, his own rifle in hand, whilst i knelt on the bamboos and placed my rifle on the top of the heap of coconuts. i am now, at this time of life, ashamed of the savage instinct that in those days filled me with a certain joy in destroying human life, unthinkingly, and without compunction. but i had been brought up in a rough school, among men who thought it not only justifiable, but correct and proper to shoot a man--black, or white, or brown, or yellow--who had done them any wrong. it had been my lot, in the solomon islands, to witness one of the most hideous and appalling massacres of a ship's crew that was ever perpetrated by natives--a massacre that had filled my youthful mind with the most intense and unreasoning hatred of all "niggers," as we called the natives of melanesia. the memory of that awful scene had burned itself upon my brain, for the captain and mate of the vessel were dear friends of mine, and they and their men had been cruelly slaughtered, not for any wrong they had done--for they were good, straight men--but simply because their blind confidence in the savage natives invited their destruction. ***** i steadied my rifle upon the top of the heap of coconuts, and waited a second or two till every man in the first canoe was in line. then i pulled the trigger, and was thrown back bleeding and unconscious, for the rifle burst just in front of the breech block, which blew out and struck me on the top of my head, nearly fracturing my skull. when i came to again yorke's face was bending over me. "we're all right, drake. the brigantine is within a mile of us, coming up with a light air, and we'll be aboard in half an hour. how do you feel, my son?" "rockotty. did the rifle burst?" "burst? it burst like a cannon, all but killed you, and a splinter hurt me in the eye. drake, my boy, the next time you do the gadarene swine trick with a cheap german snider in your hand, see that the barrel is clear before you fire it. when you fell that time, your rifle barrel must have been pretty badly choked with sand and coral pebbles... now lie still, and don't worry like an old maid who has lost her cat. you can do nothing, and will only be a damned nuisance if you _do_ try to do anything. the brigantine will be here presently, and you'll get your head attended to, and have 'pretty-pretty' plasters stuck on your nose and other parts of your facial beauties." "where are the niggers?" i asked. "gone, gone, my dear boy. vanished, but not vanished in time enough for five or six of them. i have used every one of our cartridges on the four canoes, and have had the supreme satisfaction of knowing that i have not used them in vain. now stop talking, and let me attend to the ship--the bamboo ship... there, put your head on my coat; and don't talk." ***** when the _fray bentos_ sailed up alongside the raft i was lifted on board, and placed in my berth, and long days passed ere i saw yorke again. when i did see him the brigantine was lying at anchor at rook island, and guest was in my cabin telling me the story of the hurricane--of how he had lost the two boats within an hour--one being carried away when the brigantine was all but thrown over on her beam ends, and the other--the longboat--swept away with everything else on deck--guns, deck-houses, bulwarks and all. "how we escaped smashing into some reef or another i don't know," said guest; "but the strangest thing about it all is that yorke's cutter, manned by native seamen, managed to stick so close to the _fray bentos_; for when i, running before the hurricane, with my decks swept with tremendous seas, suddenly ran into smooth water, brought to in fifteen fathoms, and dropped anchor, there was the _francesca_ cheek by jowl, alongside of me." "kanaka sailors' eyesight," i said. "napoleon never lost sight of the brigantine for a moment! and, talking about eyesight, how is yorke's eye?" "bad, bad, my boy. it is destroyed entirely, and he is now on board here, in my cabin. he has been asking for you. do you feel strong enough to get up and see him?" i rose at once, and went into guest's cabin. yorke was lying in the skipper's bunk, and as i entered he extended both hands to me, and smiled cheerfully, though his left eye was covered with a bandage, and his brave, square-set face was white and drawn. "how are you, drake, my boy? we had a narrow squeak, didn't we, from the niggers? and here is captain guest worrying and tormenting himself that he could not fire a gun to scare them off." i held his big, right hand between my own, and pressed it gently, for there was something in his one remaining eye that told me the end of all was near. "goodbye, dear lad.... goodbye, captain guest. _i_ know what is the matter with me--erysipelas--and erysipelas to a big, fat man like me means death... and if you would put a bullet through my head now you would do me a good turn... but here, guest, and you, drake... your hands. i'll be dead by to-morrow morning, and want to say goodbye, and wish good luck to you both, before i begin babbling silly twaddle about things that are of no account now... of no account now... not worth speaking about now. but the south seas are a rotten sort of a place, anyway." by reef and palm by louis becke contents introduction challis the doubter "'tis in the blood" the revenge of macy o'shea the rangers of tia kau pallou's taloi a basket of bread-fruit enderby's courtship long charley's good little wife the methodical mr burr of majuru a truly great man the doctor's wife the fate of the alida the chilian bluejacket brantley of vahitahi introduction when in october, 1870, i sailed into the harbour of apia, samoa, in the ill-fated albatross, mr louis becke was gaining his first experiences of island life as a trader on his own account by running a cutter between apia and savai'i. it was rather a notable moment in apia, for two reasons. in the first place, the german traders were shaking in their shoes for fear of what the french squadron might do to them, and we were the bearers of the good news from tahiti that the chivalrous admiral clouet, with a very proper magnanimity, had decided not to molest them; and, secondly, the beach was still seething with excitement over the departure on the previous day of the pirate pease, carrying with him the yet more illustrious "bully" hayes. it happened in this wise. a month or two before our arrival, hayes had dropped anchor in apia, and some ugly stories of recent irregularities in the labour trade had come to the ears of mr williams, the english consul. mr williams, with the assistance of the natives, very cleverly seized his vessel in the night, and ran her ashore, and detained mr hayes pending the arrival of an english man-of-war to which he could be given in charge. but in those happy days there were no prisons in samoa, so that his confinement was not irksome, and his only hard labour was picnics, of which he was the life and soul. all went pleasantly until mr pease--a degenerate sort of pirate who made his living by half bullying, half swindling lonely white men on small islands out of their coconut oil, and unarmed merchantmen out of their stores--came to apia in an armed ship with a malay crew. from that moment hayes' life became less idyllic. hayes and pease conceived a most violent hatred of each other, and poor old mr williams was really worried into an attack of elephantiasis (which answers to the gout in those latitudes) by his continual efforts to prevent the two desperadoes from flying at each other's throat. heartily glad was he when pease--who was the sort of man that always observed les convenances when possible, and who fired a salute of twenty-one guns on the queen's birthday--came one afternoon to get his papers "all regular," and clear for sea. but lo! the next morning, when his vessel had disappeared, it was found that his enemy captain hayes had disappeared also, and the ladies of samoa were left disconsolate at the departure of the most agreeable man they had ever known. however, all this is another story, as mr kipling says, and one which i hope mr becke will tell us more fully some day, for he knew hayes well, having acted as supercargo on board his ship, and shared a shipwreck and other adventures with him. but even before this date mr becke had had as much experience as falls to most men of adventures in the pacific ocean. born at port macquarrie in australia, where his father was clerk of petty sessions, he was seized at the age of fourteen with an intense longing to go to sea. it is possible that he inherited this passion through his mother, for her father, charles beilby, who was private secretary to the duke of cumberland, invested a legacy that fell to him in a small vessel, and sailed with his family to the then very new world of australia. however this may be, it was impossible to keep louis becke at home; and, as an alternative, a uncle undertook to send him, and a brother two years older, to a mercantile house in california. his first voyage was a terrible one. there were no steamers, of course, in those days, and they sailed for san francisco in a wretched old barque. for over a month they were drifting about the stormy sea between australia and new zealand, a partially dismasted and leaking wreck. the crew mutinied--they had bitter cause to--and only after calling at rurutu, in the tubuai group, and obtaining fresh food, did they permit the captain to resume command of the half-sunken old craft. they were ninety days in reaching honolulu, and another forty in making the californian coast. the two lads did not find the routine of a merchant's office at all to their taste; and while the elder obtained employment on a sheep ranche at san juan, louis, still faithful to the sea, got a berth as a clerk in a steamship company, and traded to the southern ports. in a year's time he had money enough to take passage in a schooner bound on a shark-catching cruise to the equatorial islands of the north pacific. the life was a very rough one, and full of incident and adventure--which i hope he will relate some day. returning to honolulu, he fell in with an old captain who had bought a schooner for a trading venture amongst the western carolines. becke put in $1000, and sailed with him as supercargo, he and the skipper being the only white men on board. he soon discovered that, though a good seaman, the old man knew nothing of navigation. in a few weeks they were among the marshall islands, and the captain went mad from delirium tremens. becke and the three native sailors ran the vessel into a little uninhabited atoll, and for a week had to keep the captain tied up to prevent his killing himself. they got him right at last, and stood to the westward. on their voyage they were witnesses of a tragedy (in this instance fortunately not complete), on which the pitiless sun of the pacific has looked down very often. they fell in with a big marshall island sailing canoe that had been blown out of sight of land, and had drifted six hundred miles to the westward. out of her complement of fifty people, thirty were dead. they gave them provisions and water, and left them to make strong's island (kusaie), which was in sight. becke and the chief swore marshall island bruderschaft with each other. years afterwards, when he came to live in the marshall group, the chief proved his friendship in a signal manner. the cruise proved a profitable one, and from that time mr becke determined to become a trader, and to learn to know the people of the north-west pacific; and returning to california, he made for samoa, and from thence to sydney. but at this time the palmer river gold rush had just broken out in north queensland, and a brother, who was a bank manager on the celebrated charters towers goldfields, invited him to come up, as every one seemed to be making his fortune. he wandered between the rushes for two years, not making a fortune, but acquiring much useful experience, learning, amongst other things, the art of a blacksmith, and becoming a crack shot with a rifle. returning to sydney, he sailed for the friendly islands (tonga) in company with the king of tonga's yacht--the taufaahau. the friendly islanders disappointed him (at which no one that knows them will wonder), and he went on to samoa, and set up as a trader on his own account for the first time. he and a manhiki half-caste--the "allan" who so frequently figures in his stories--bought a cutter, and went trading throughout the group. this was the time of colonel steinberger's brief tenure of power. the natives were fighting, and the cutter was seized on two occasions. when the war was over he made a voyage to the north-west, and became a great favourite with the natives, as indeed seems to have been the case in most of the places he went to in polynesia and micronesia. later on he was sent away from samoa in charge of a vessel under sealed orders to the marshall islands. these orders were to hand the vessel over to the notorious captain "bully" hayes. (some day he promises that he will give us the details of this very curious adventure). he found hayes awaiting him in his famous brig leonora in milli lagoon. he handed over his charge and took service with him as supercargo. after some months' cruising in the carolines they were wrecked on strong's island (kusaie). hayes made himself the ruler of the island, and mr becke and he had a bitter quarrel. the natives treated the latter with great kindness, and gave him land on the lee side of the island, where he lived happily enough for five months. hayes was captured by an english man-of-war, but escaped and went to guam. mr becke went back in the cruiser to the colonies, and then again sailed for eastern polynesia, trading in the gambiers, paumotus, and easter and pitcairn islands. in this part of the ocean he picked up an abandoned french barque on a reef, floated her, and loaded her with coconuts, intending to sail her to new zealand with a native crew, but they went ashore in a hurricane and lost everything. meeting with mr tom de wolf, the managing partner of a liverpool firm, he took service with him as a trader in the ellice and tokelau groups, finally settling down as a residential trader. then he took passage once more for the carolines, and was wrecked on peru, one of the gilbert islands (lately annexed), losing every dollar that he possessed. he returned to samoa and engaged as a "recruiter" in the labour trade. he got badly hurt in an encounter with some natives, and went to new zealand to recover. then he sailed to new britain on a trading venture, and fell in with, and had much to do with, the ill-fated colonising expedition of the marquis de ray in new ireland. a bad attack of malarial fever, and a wound in the neck (labour recruiting or even trading among the blacks of melanesia seems to have been a much less pleasant business than residence among the gentle brown folk of the eastern pacific) made him leave and return to the marshall islands, where lailik, the chief whom he had succoured at sea years before, made him welcome. he left on a fruitless quest after an imaginary guano island, and from then until two years ago he has been living on various islands in both the north and south pacific, leading what he calls "a wandering and lonely but not unhappy existence," "lui," as they call him, being a man both liked and trusted by the natives from lonely easter island to the faraway pelews. he is still in the prime of life, and whether he will now remain within the bounds of civilisation, or whether some day he will return to his wanderings, as odysseus is fabled to have done in his old age, i fancy that he hardly knows himself. but when once the charm of a wild roving life has got into a man's blood, the trammels of civilisation are irksome and its atmosphere is hard to breathe. it will be seen from this all-too-condensed sketch of mr becke's career that he knows the pacific as few men alive or dead have ever known it. he is one of the rare men who have led a very wild life, and have the culture and talent necessary to give some account of it. as a rule, the men who know don't write, and the men who write don't know. every one who has a taste for good stories will feel, i believe, the force of these. every one who knows the south seas, and, i believe, many who do not, will feel that they have the unmistakable stamp of truth. and truth to nature is a great merit in a story, not only because of that thrill of pleasure hard to analyse, but largely made up of associations, memories, and suggestions that faithfulness of representation in picture or book gives to the natural man; but because of the fact that nature is almost infinitely rich, and the unassisted imagination of man but a poor and sterile thing, tending constantly towards some ossified convention. "treasure island" is a much better story than "the wreckers," yet i, for one, shall never cease to regret that mr stevenson did not possess, when he wrote "treasure island," that knowledge of what men and schooners do in wild seas that was his when he gave us "the wreckers." the detail would have been so much richer and more convincing. it is open to any one to say that these tales are barbarous, and what mrs meynell, in a very clever and amusing essay, has called "decivilised." certainly there is a wide gulf separating life on a pacific island from the accumulated culture of centuries of civilisation in the midst of which such as mrs meynell move and have their being. and if there can be nothing good in literature that does not spring from that culture, these stories must stand condemned. but such a view is surely too narrow. much as i admire that lady's writings, i never can think of a world from which everything was eliminated that did not commend itself to the dainty taste of herself and her friends, without a feeling of impatience and suffocation. it takes a huge variety of men and things to make a good world. and ranches and canons, veldts and prairies, tropical forests and coral islands, and all that goes to make up the wild life in the face of nature or among primitive races, far and free from the artificial conditions of an elaborate civilisation, form an element in the world, the loss of which would be bitterly felt by many a man who has never set foot outside his native land. there is a certain monotony, perhaps, about these stories. to some extent this is inevitable. the interest and passions of south sea island life are neither numerous nor complex, and action is apt to be rapid and direct. a novelist of that modern school that fills its volumes, often fascinatingly enough, by refining upon the shadowy refinements of civilised thought and feeling, would find it hard to ply his trade in south sea island society. his models would always be cutting short in five minutes the hesitations and subtleties that ought to have lasted them through a quarter of a life-time. but i think it is possible that the english reader might gather from this little book an unduly strong impression of the uniformity of island life. the loves of white men and brown women, often cynical and brutal, sometimes exquisitely tender and pathetic, necessarily fill a large space in any true picture of the south sea islands, and mr becke, no doubt of set artistic purpose, has confined himself in the collection of tales now offered almost entirely to this facet of the life. i do not question that he is right in deciding to detract nothing from the striking effect of these powerful stories, taken as a whole, by interspersing amongst them others of a different character. but i hope it may be remembered that the present selection is only an instalment, and that, if it finds favour with the british public, we may expect from him some of those tales of adventure, and of purely native life and custom, which no one could tell so well as he. pembroke. challis the doubter the white lady and the brown woman four years had come and gone since the day that challis, with a dull and savage misery in his heart, had, cursing the love-madness which once possessed him, walked out from his house in an australian city with an undefined and vague purpose of going "somewhere" to drown his sense of wrong and erase from his memory the face of the woman who, his wife of not yet a year, had played with her honour and his. so he thought, anyhow. * * * * * you see, challis was "a fool"--at least so his pretty, violet-eyed wife had told him that afternoon with a bitter and contemptuous ring in her voice when he had brought another man's letter--written to her--and with impulsive and jealous haste had asked her to explain. he was a fool, she had said, with an angry gleam in the violet eyes, to think she could not "take care" of herself. admit receiving that letter? of course! did he think she could help other men writing silly letters to her? did he not think she could keep out of a mess? and she smiled the self-satisfied smile of a woman conscious of many admirers and of her own powers of intrigue. then challis, with a big effort, gulping down the rage that stirred him, made his great mistake. he spoke of his love for her. fatuity! she laughed at him, said that as she detested women, his love was too exacting for her, if it meant that she should never be commonly friendly with any other man. * * * * * challis looked at her steadily for a few moments, trying to smother the wild flood of black suspicion aroused in him by the discovery of the letter, and confirmed by her sneering words, and then said quietly, but with a dangerous inflection in his voice-"remember--you are my wife. if you have no regard for your own reputation, you shall have some for mine. i don't want to entertain my friends by thrashing r----, but i'm not such a fool as you think. and if you go further in this direction you'll find me a bit of a brute." again the sneering laugh--"indeed! something very tragic will occur, i suppose?" "no," said challis grimly, "something damned prosaic--common enough among men with pretty wives--i'll clear out." "i wish you would do that now," said his wife, "i hate you quite enough." of course she didn't quite mean it. she really liked challis in her own small-souled way--principally because his money had given her the social pleasures denied her during her girlhood. with an unmoved face and without farewell he left her and went to his lawyer's. a quarter of an hour later he arose to go, and the lawyer asked him when he intended returning. "that all depends upon her. if she wants me back again, she can write, through you, and i'll come--if she has conducted herself with a reasonable amount of propriety for such a pretty woman." then, with an ugly look on his face, challis went out; next day he embarked in the lady alicia for a six months' cruise among the islands of the north-west pacific. * * * * * that was four years ago, and to-day challis, who stands working at a little table set in against an open window, hammering out a ring from a silver coin on a marline-spike and vyce, whistles softly and contentedly to himself as he raises his head and glances through the vista of coconuts that surround his dwelling on this lonely and almost forgotten island. "the devil!" he thinks to himself, "i must be turning into a native. four years! what an ass i was! and i've never written yet--that is, never sent a letter away. well, neither has she. perhaps, after all, there was little in that affair of r----'s.... by god! though, if there was, i've been very good to them in leaving them a clear field. anyhow, she's all right as regards money. i'm glad i've done that. it's a big prop to a man's conscience to feel he hasn't done anything mean; and she likes money--most women do. of course i'll go back--if she writes. if not--well, then, these sinful islands can claim me for their own; that is, nalia can." * * * * * a native boy with shaven head, save for a long tuft on the left side, came down from the village, and, seating himself on the gravelled space inside the fence, gazed at the white man with full, lustrous eyes. "hallo, tama!" said challis, "whither goest now?" "pardon, tialli. i came to look at thee making the ring. is it of soft silver--and for nalia, thy wife?" "ay, o shaven-head, it is. here, take this masi and go pluck me a young nut to drink," and challis threw him a ship-biscuit. then he went on tapping the little band of silver. he had already forgotten the violet eyes, and was thinking with almost childish eagerness of the soft glow in the black orbs of nalia when she should see his finished handiwork. the boy returned with a young coconut, unhusked. "behold, tialli. this nut is a uto ga'au (sweet husk). when thou hast drunk the juice give it me back, that i may chew the husk which is sweet as the sugar-cane of samoa," and he squatted down again on the gravel. * * * * * challis drank, then threw him the husk and resumed his work. presently the boy, tearing off a strip of the husk with his white teeth, said, "tialli, how is it that there be no drinking-nuts in thy house?" "because, o turtle-head, my wife is away; and there are no men in the village to-day; and because the women of this motu [island or country.] i have no thought that the papalagi [foreigner] may be parched with thirst, and so come not near me with a coconut." this latter in jest. "nay, tialli. not so. true it is that to-day all the men are in the bush binding fala leaves around the coconut trees, else do the rats steal up and eat the buds and clusters of little nuts. and because nalia, thy wife, is away at the other white man's house no woman cometh inside the door." challis laughed. "o evil-minded people of nukunono! and must i, thy papalagi, be parched with thirst because of this?" "faiaga oe, tialli, thou but playest with me. raise thy hand and call out 'i thirst!' and every woman in the village will run to thee, each with a drinking-nut, and those that desire thee, but are afraid, will give two. but to come inside when nalia is away would be to put shame on her." * * * * * the white man mused. the boy's solemn chatter entertained him. he knew well the native customs; but, to torment the boy, he commenced again. "o foolish custom! see how i trust my wife nalia. is she not even now in the house of another white man?" "true. but, then, he is old and feeble, and thou young and strong. none but a fool desires to eat a dried flying-fish when a fresh one may be had." "o wise man with the shaven crown," said challis, with mocking good nature, "thou art full of wisdom of the ways of women. and if i were old and withered, would nalia then be false to me in a house of another and younger white man?" "how could she? would not he, too, have a wife who would watch her? and if he had not, and were nofo noa (single), would he be such a fool to steal that the like of which he can buy--for there are many girls without husbands as good to look on as that nalia of thine. and all women are alike," and then, hearing a woman's voice calling his name, he stood up. "farewell, o ulu tula poto (wise baldhead)," said challis, as the boy, still chewing his sweet husk, walked back to the native houses clustered under the grove of pua trees. * * * * * ere dusk, nalia came home, a slenderly-built girl with big dreamy eyes, and a heavy mantle of wavy hair. a white muslin gown, fastened at the throat with a small silver brooch, was her only garment, save the folds of the navy-blue-and-white lava lava round her waist, which the european-fashioned garment covered. challis was lying down when she came in. two girls who came with her carried baskets of cooked food, presents from old jack kelly, challis's fellow-trader. at a sign from nalia the girls took one of the baskets of food and went away. then, taking off her wide-brimmed hat of fala leaf, she sat down beside challis and pinched his cheek. "o lazy one! to let me walk from the house of tiaki all alone!" "alone! there were two others with thee." "tapa could i talk to them! i, a white man's wife, must not be too familiar with every girl, else they would seek to get presents from me with sweet words. besides, could i carry home the fish and cooked fowl sent thee by old tiaki? that would be unbecoming to me, even as it would be if thou climbed a tree for a coconut,"--and the daughter of the tropics laughed merrily as she patted challis on his sunburnt cheek. challis rose, and going to a little table, took from it the ring. "see, nalia, i am not lazy as thou sayest. this is thine." the girl with an eager "aue!" took the bauble and placed it on her finger. she made a pretty picture, standing there in the last glow of the sun as it sank into the ocean, her languorous eyes filled with a tender light. challis, sitting on the end of the table regarding her with half-amused interest as does a man watching a child with a toy, suddenly flushed hotly. "by god! i can't be such a fool as to begin to love her in reality, but yet ... come here, nalia," and he drew her to him, and, turning her face up so that he might look into her eyes, he asked: "nalia, hast thou ever told me any lies?" the steady depths of those dark eyes looked back into his, and she answered: "nay, i fear thee too much to lie. thou mightst kill me." "i do but ask thee some little things. it matters not to me what the answer is. yet see that thou keepest nothing hidden from me." the girl, with parted lips and one hand on his, waited. "before thou became my wife, nalia, hadst thou any lovers?" "yes, two--kapua and tafu-le-afi." "and since?" "may i choke and perish here before thee if i lie! none." challis, still holding her soft brown chin in his hand, asked her one more question--a question that only one of his temperament would have dared to ask a girl of the tokelaus. "nalia, dost thou love me?" "aye, alofa tumau (everlasting love). am i a fool? are there not letia, and miriami, and eline, the daughter of old tiaki, ready to come to this house if i love any but thee? therefore my love is like the suckers of the fa'e (octopus) in its strength. my mother has taught me much wisdom." a curious feeling of satisfaction possessed the man, and next day letia, the "show" girl of the village, visiting challis's store to buy a tin of salmon, saw nalia, the lucky one, seated on a mat beneath the seaward side of the trader's house, surrounded by a billowy pile of yellow silk, diligently sewing. "ho, dear friend of my heart! is that silken dress for thee? for the love of god, let me but touch it. four dollars a fathom it be priced at. thy husband is indeed the king of generosity. art thou to become a mother?" "away, silly fool, and do thy buying and pester me not." * * * * * challis, coming to the corner of the house, leant against a post, and something white showed in his hand. it was a letter. his letter to the woman of violet eyes, written a week ago, in the half-formed idea of sending it some day. he read it through, and then paused and looked at nalia. she raised her head and smiled. slowly, piece by piece, he tore it into tiny little squares, and, with a dreamy hand-wave, threw them away. the wind held them in mid-air for a moment, and then carried the little white flecks to the beach. "what is it?" said the bubbling voice of letia, the disappointed. "only a piece of paper that weighed as a piece of iron on my bosom. but it is gone now." "even so," said letia, smelling the gaudy label on the tin of salmon in the anticipative ecstasy of a true polynesian, "pe se mea fa'agotoimoana (like a thing buried deep in ocean). may god send me a white man as generous as thee--a whole tin of samani for nothing! now do i know that nalia will bear thee a son." * * * * * and that is why challis the doubter has never turned up again. "'tis in the blood" we were in manton's hotel at levuka-levuka in her palmy days. there were robertson, of the barque rolumah; a fat german planter from the yasawa group; harry the canadian, a trader from the tokelaus, and myself. presently a knock came to the door, and allan, the boatswain of our brig, stood hat in hand before us. he was a stalwart half-caste of manhiki, and, perhaps, the greatest manaia (lothario) from ponape to fiji. "captain say to come aboard, please. he at the consul's for papers--he meet you at boat," and allan left. "by shingo, dot's a big fellow," said planter oppermann. "ay," said robertson, the trading skipper, "and a good man with his mauleys, too. he's the champion knocker-out in samoa, and is a match for any englishman in polynesia, let alone foreigners"--with a sour glance at the german. "well, good-bye all," i said. "i'm sorry, oppermann, i can't stay for another day for your wedding, but our skipper isn't to be got at anyhow." the trading captain and harry walked with me part of the way, and then began the usual fiji gup. "just fancy that fat-headed dutchman going all the way to samoa and picking on a young girl and sending her to the sisters to get educated properly! as if any old beach-girl isn't good enough for a blessed dutchman. have you seen her?" "no," i said; "oppermann showed me her photo. pretty girl. says she's been three years with the sisters in samoa, and has got all the virtues of her white father, and none of the vices of her samoan mammy. told me he's spent over two thousand dollars on her already." robertson smiled grimly. "ay, i don't doubt it. he's been all round levuka cracking her up. i brought her here last week, and the dutchman's been in a chronic state of silly ever since. she's an almighty fine girl. she's staying with the sisters here till the marriage. by the lord, here she is now coming along the street! bet a dollar she's been round vagadace way, where there are some fast samoan women living. 'tis in the blood, i tell you." the future possessor of the oppermann body and estate was a pretty girl. only those who have seen fair young polynesian half-castes--before they get married, and grow coarse, and drink beer, and smoke like a factory chimney--know how pretty. our boat was at the wharf, and just as we stood talking allan sauntered up and asked me for a dollar to get a bottle of gin. just then the german's fiancee reached us. robertson introduced harry and myself to her, and then said good-bye. she stood there in the broiling fijian sun with a dainty sunshade over her face, looking so lovely and cool in her spotless muslin dress, and withal so innocent, that i no longer wondered at the dutchman's "chronic state of silly." allan the stalwart stood by waiting for his dollar. the girl laughed joyously when harry the canadian said he would be at the wedding and have a high time, and held out her soft little hand as he bade her adieu and strolled off for another drink. the moment harry had gone allan was a new man. pulling off his straw hat, he saluted her in samoan, and then opened fire. "there are many teine lalelei (beautiful girls) in the world, but there is none so beautiful as thou. only truth do i speak, for i have been to all countries of the world. ask him who is here--our supercargo--if i lie. o maid with the teeth of pearl and face like fetuao (the morning star), my stomach is drying up with the fire of love." the sunshade came a little lower, and the fingers played nervously with the ivory handle. i leant against a coconut tree and listened. "thy name is vaega. see that! how do i know? aha, how do i? because, for two years or more, whenever i passed by the stone wall of the sisters' dwelling in matafele, i climbed up and watched thee, o star of the morning, and i heard the other girls call thee vaega. oho! and some night i meant to steal thee away." (the rascal! he told me two days afterwards that the only time he ever climbed the mission wall was to steal mangoes.) the sunshade was tilted back, and displayed two big, black eyes, luminous with admiring wonder. "and so thou hast left samoa to come here to be devoured by this fat hog of a dutchman! dost thou not know, o foolish, lovely one, that she who mates with a siamani (german) grows old in quite a little time, and thy face, which is now smooth and fair, will be coarse as the rind of a half-ripe bread-fruit, because of the foul food these swine of germans eat?" "allan," i called, "here's the captain!" there was a quick clasp of hands as the stalwart one and the maid hurriedly spoke again, this time in a whisper, and then the white muslin floated away out of sight. the captain was what he called "no' so dry"--viz. half-seas over, and very jolly. he told allan he could have an hour to himself to buy what he wanted, and then told me that the captain of a steam collier had promised to give us a tug out at daylight. "i'm right for the wedding-feast after all," i thought. * * * * * but the wedding never came off. that night oppermann, in a frantic state, was tearing round levuka hunting for his love, who had disappeared. at daylight, as the collier steamed ahead and tautened our tow-line, we could see the parties of searchers with torches scouring the beach. our native sailors said they had heard a scream about ten at night and seen the sharks splashing, and the white liars of levuka shook their heads and looked solemn as they told tales of monster sharks with eight-foot jaws always cruising close in to the shore at night. * * * * * three days afterwards allan came to me with stolid face and asked for a bottle of wine, as vaega was very sea-sick. i gave him the wine, and threatened to tell the captain. he laughed, and said he would fight any man, captain or no captain, who meddled with him. and, as a matter of fact, he felt safe--the skipper valued him too much to bully him over the mere stealing of a woman. so the limp and sea-sick vaega was carried up out of the sweating foc'sle and given a cabin berth, and allan planked down two twenty-dollar pieces for her passage to the union group. when she got better she sang rowdy songs, and laughed all day, and made fun of the holy sisters. and one day allan beat her with a deal board because she sat down on a band-box in the trade-room and ruined a hat belonging to a swell official's wife in apia. and she liked him all the better for it. * * * * * the fair vaega was mrs allan for just six months, when his erratic fancy was captivated by the daughter of mauga, the chief of tutuila, and an elopement resulted to the mountains. the subsequent and inevitable parting made samoa an undesirable place of residence for allan, who shipped as boatsteerer in the niger of new bedford. as for vaega, she drifted back to apia, and there, right under the shadow of the mission church, she flaunted her beauty. the last time i saw her was in charley the russian's saloon, when she showed me a letter. it was from the bereaved oppermann, asking her to come back and marry him. "are you going?" i said. "e pule le atua (if god so wills), but he only sent me twenty dollars, and that isn't half enough. however, there's an american man-of-war coming next week, and these other girls will see then. i'll make the papalagi [foreign] officers shell out. to fa, alii [good-bye]." the revenge of macy o'shea a story of the marquesas i. tikena the clubfooted guided me to an open spot in the jungle-growth, and, sitting down on the butt of a twisted toa, indicated by a sweep of his tattooed arm the lower course of what had once been the white man's dwelling. "like unto himself was this, his house," he said, puffing a dirty clay pipe, "square-built and strong. and the walls were of great blocks made of panisina--of coral and lime and sand mixed together; and around each centre-post--posts that to lift one took the strength of fifty men--was wound two thousand fathoms of thin plaited cinnet, stained red and black. apa! he was a great man here in these motu (islands), although he fled from prison in your land; and when he stepped on the beach the marks of the iron bands that had once been round his ankles were yet red to the sight. there be none such as he in these days. but he is now in hell." this was the long-deferred funeral oration of macy o'shea, sometime member of the chain-gang of port arthur, in van dieman's land, and subsequently runaway convict, beachcomber, cutter-off of whaleships, and gentleman of leisure in eastern polynesia. and of his many known crimes the deed done in this isolated spot was the darkest of all. judge of it yourself. * * * * * the arrowy shafts of sunrise had scarce pierced the deep gloom of the silent forest ere the village woke to life. right beside the thatch-covered dwelling of macy o'shea, now a man of might, there towers a stately tamanu tree; and, as the first faint murmur of women's voices arises from the native huts, there is a responsive twittering and cooing in the thickly-leaved branches, and further back in the forest the heavy, booming note of the red-crested pigeon sounds forth like the beat of a muffled drum. * * * * * with slow, languid step, sera, the wife of macy o'shea, comes to the open door and looks out upon the placid lagoon, now just rippling beneath the first breath of the trade-wind, and longs for courage to go out there--there to the point of the reef--and spring over among the sharks. the girl--she is hardly yet a woman--shudders a moment and passes her white hand before her eyes, and then, with a sudden gust of passion, the hand clenches. "i would kill him--kill him, if there was but a ship here in which i could get away! i would sell myself over and over again to the worst whaler's crew that ever sailed the pacific if it would bring me freedom from this cruel, cold-blooded devil!" * * * * * a heavy tread on the matted floor of the inner room and her face pales to the hue of death. but macy o'shea is somewhat shy of his two years' wife this morning, and she hears the heavy steps recede as he walks over to his oil-shed. a flock of gogo cast their shadow over the lagoon as they fly westward, and the woman's eyes follow them--"kill him, yes. i am afraid to die, but not to kill. and i am a stranger here, and if i ran a knife into his fat throat, these natives would make me work in the taro-fields, unless one wanted me for himself." then the heavy step returns, and she slowly faces round to the blood-shot eyes and drink-distorted face of the man she hates, and raises one hand to her lips to hide a blue and swollen bruise. the man throws his short, square-set figure on a rough native sofa, and, passing one brawny hand meditatively over his stubbly chin, says, in a voice like the snarl of a hungry wolf: "here, i say, sera, slew round; i want to talk to you, my beauty." the pale, set face flushed and paled again. "what is it, macy o'shea?" "ho, ho, 'macy o'shea,' is it? well, just this. don't be a fool. i was a bit put about last night, else i wouldn't have been so quick with my fist. cut your lip, i see. well, you must forget it; any way, it's the first time i ever touched you. but you ought to know by now that i am not a man to be trifled with; no man, let alone a woman, is going to set a course for macy o'shea to steer by. and, to come to the point at once, i want you to understand that carl ristow's daughter is coming here. i want her, and that's all about it." * * * * * the woman laughed scornfully. "yes, i know. that was why"--she pointed to her lips. "have you no shame? i know you have no pity. but listen. i swear to you by the mother of christ that i will kill her--kill you, if you do this." o'shea's cruel mouth twitched and his jaws set, then he uttered a hoarse laugh. "by god! has it taken you two years to get jealous?" a deadly hate gleamed in the dark, passionate eyes. "jealous, mother of god! jealous of a drunken, licentious wretch such as you! i hate you--hate you! if i had courage enough i would poison myself to be free from you." o'shea's eyes emitted a dull sparkle. "i wish you would, damn you! yet you are game enough, you say, to kill me--and malia?" "yes. but not for love of you, but because of the white blood in me. i can't--i won't be degraded by you bringing another woman here." "'por dios,' as your dad used to say before the devil took his soul, we'll see about that, my beauty. i suppose because your father was a d----d garlic-eating, ear-ringed dago, and your mother a come-by-chance tahiti half-caste, you think he was as good as me." "as good as you, o bloody-handed dog of an english convict. he was a man, and the only wrong he ever did was to let me become wife to a devil like you." the cruel eyes were close to hers now, and the rough, brawny hands gripped her wrists. "you spiteful portuguese quarter-bred ----! call me a convict again, and i'll twist your neck like a fowl's. you she-devil! i'd have made things easy for you--but i won't now. do you hear?" and the grip tightened. "ristow's girl will be here to-morrow, and if you don't knuckle down to her it'll be a case of 'vamos' for you--you can go and get a husband among the natives," and he flung her aside and went to the god that ran him closest for his soul, next to women--his rum-bottle. * * * * * o'shea kept his word, for two days later malia, the half-caste daughter of ristow, the trader at ahunui, stepped from out her father's whaleboat in front of o'shea's house. the transaction was a perfectly legitimate one, and malia did not allow any inconvenient feeling of modesty to interfere with such a lucrative arrangement as this, whereby her father became possessed of a tun of oil and a bag of chilian dollars, and she of much finery. in those days missionaries had not made much head-way, and gentlemen like messrs ristow and o'shea took all the wind out of the gospel drum. and so malia, dressed as a native girl, with painted cheeks and bare bosom, walked demurely up from the boat to the purchaser of her sixteen-years'-old beauty, who, with arms folded across his broad chest, stood in the middle of the path that led from the beach to his door. and within, with set teeth and a knife in the bosom of her blouse bodice, sera panted with the lust of hate and revenge. * * * * * the bulky form of o'shea darkened the door-way. "sera," he called in english, with a mocking, insulting inflection in his voice, "come here and welcome my new wife!" sera came, walking slowly, with a smile on her lips, and, holding out her left hand to malia, said in the native language, "welcome!" "why," said o'shea, with mocking jocularity, "that's a left-handed welcome, sera." "aye," said the girl with the white man's blood, "my right hand is for this"--and the knife sank home into malia's yellow bosom. "a cold bosom for you to-night, macy o'shea," she laughed, as the value of a tun of oil and a bag of chilian dollars gasped out its life upon the matted floor. ii the native drum was beating. as the blood-quickening boom reverberated through the village, the natives came out from their huts and gathered around the house of the old men, where, with bound hands and feet, sera, the white man's wife, sat, with her back to one of the centre-posts. and opposite her, sitting like a native on a mat of kapau, was the burly figure of o'shea, with the demon of disappointed passion eating away his reason, and a mist of blood swimming before his eyes. the people all detested her, especially the soft-voiced, slender-framed women. in that one thing savages resemble christians--the deadly hatred with which some women hate those of their sex whom they know to be better and more pure than themselves. so the matter was decided quickly. mesi--so they called o'shea--should have justice. if he thought death, let it be death for this woman who had let out the blood of his new wife. only one man, loloku the boar hunter, raised his voice for her, because sera had cured him of a bad wound when his leg had been torn open by the tusk of a wild boar. but the dull glare from the eyes of o'shea fell on him, and he said no more. then at a sign from the old men the people rose from the mats, and two unbound the cords of afa from the girl, and led her out into the square, and looked at o'shea. "take her to the boat," he said. * * * * * ristow's boat had been hauled up, turned over, and covered with the rough mats called kapau to keep off the heat of the sun. with staggering feet, but undaunted heart, the girl sera was led down. only once she turned her head and looked back. perhaps loloku would try again. then, as they came to the boat, a young girl, at a sign from o'shea, took off the loose blouse, and they placed her, face downwards, across the bilge of the boat, and two pair of small, eager, brown hands each seized one of hers and dragged the white, rounded arms well over the keel of the boat. o'shea walked round to that side, drawing through his hands the long, heavy, and serrated tail of the fai--the gigantic stinging-ray of oceana. he would have liked to wield it himself, but then he would have missed part of his revenge--he could not have seen her face. so he gave it to a native, and watched, with the smile of a fiend, the white back turn black and then into bloody red as it was cut to pieces with the tail of the fai. * * * * * the sight of the inanimate thing that had given no sign of its agony beyond the shudderings and twitchings of torn and mutilated flesh was, perhaps, disappointing to the tiger who stood and watched the dark stream that flowed down on both sides of the boat. loloku touched his arm--"mesi, stay thy hand. she is dead else." "ah," said o'shea, "that would be a pity; for with one hand shall she live to plant taro." and, hatchet in hand, he walked in between the two brown women who held her hands. they moved aside and let go. then o'shea swung his arm; the blade of the hatchet struck into the planking, and the right hand of sera fell on the sand. a man put his arms around her, and lifted her off the boat. he placed his hand on the blood-stained bosom and looked at macy o'shea. "e mate! [dead!]" he said. the rangers of the tia kau between nanomea and nanomaga--two of the ellice group--but within a few miles of the latter, is an extensive submerged shoal, on the charts called the grand cocal reef, but by the people of the two islands known as tia kau (the reef). on the shallowest part there are from four to ten fathoms of water, and here in heavy weather the sea breaks. the british cruiser basilisk, about 1870, sought for the reef, but reported it as non-existent. yet the tia kati is well known to many a yankee whaler and trading schooner, and is a favourite fishing-ground of the people of nanomaga--when the sharks give them a chance. * * * * * one night atupa, chief of nanomaga, caused a huge fire to be lit on the beach as a signal to the people of nanomea that a malaga, or party of voyagers, was coming over. both islands are low--not more than fifteen feet above sea-level--and are distant from one another about thirty-eight miles. the following night the reflection of the answering fire on nanomea was seen, and atupa prepared to send away his people in seven canoes. they would start at sundown, so as to avoid paddling in the heat (the nanomagans have no sailing canoes), and be guided to nanomea, which they expected to reach early in the morning, by the far distant glare of the great fires of coconut and pandanus leaves kindled at intervals of a few hours. about seventy people were to go, and all that day the little village busied itself in preparing for the nanomeans gifts of foods--cooked puraka, fowls, pigs, and flying-fish. * * * * * atupa, the heathen chief, was troubled in his mind in those days of august 1872. the john williams had touched at the island and landed a samoan missionary, who had pressed him to accept christianity. atupa, dreading a disturbing element in his little community, had, at first, declined; but the ship had come again, and the chief having consented to try the new religion, a teacher landed. but since then he and his sub-chiefs had consulted the oracle, and had been told that the shades of maumau tahori and foilagi, their deified ancestors, had answered that the new religion was unacceptable to them, and that the samoan teacher must be killed or sent away. and for this was atupa sending off some of his people to nanomea with gifts of goodwill to the chiefs to beseech them to consult their oracles also, so that the two islands might take concerted action against this new foreign god, whose priests said that all men were equal, that all were bad, and he and his son alone good. * * * * * the night was calm when the seven canoes set out. forty men and thirty women and children were in the party, and the craft were too deeply laden for any but the smoothest sea. on the ama (outrigger) of each canoe were the baskets of food and bundles of mats for their hosts, and seated on these were the children, while the women sat with the men and helped them to paddle. two hours' quick paddling brought them to the shoal-water of tia kau, and at the same moment they saw to the n.w. the sky-glare of the first guiding fire. * * * * * it was then that the people in the first canoe, wherein was palu, the daughter of atupa, called out to those behind to prepare their asu (balers), as a heavy squall was coming down from the eastward. then laheu, an old warrior in another canoe, cried out that they should return on their track a little and get into deep water; "for," said he, "if we swamp, away from tia kau, it is but a little thing, but here--" and he clasped his hands rapidly together and then tore them apart. they knew what he meant--the sharks that, at night-time forsaking the deep waters, patrolled in droves of thousands the shallow waters of the reef to devour the turtle and the schools of tafau uli and other fish. in quick, alarmed silence the people headed back, but even then the first fierce squall struck them, and some of the frail canoes began to fill at once. "i matagi! i matagi! (head to the wind)" a man called out; "head to the wind, or we perish! 'tis but a puff and it is gone." * * * * * but it was more than a puff. the seven canoes, all abreast, were still in shallow water, and the paddlers kept them dead in the teeth of the whistling wind and stinging rain, and called out words of encouragement to one another and to the women and children, as another black squall burst upon them and the curling seas began to break. the canoe in which was atupa's daughter was the largest and best of all the seven, but was much overladen, and on the outrigger grating were four children. these the chief's daughter was endeavouring to shield from the rain by covering them with a mat, when one of them, a little girl, endeavoured to steady herself by holding to one of the thin pieces of grating; it broke, and her arm fell through and struck the water, and in an instant she gave a dull, smothered wail. palu, the woman, seized her by her hair and pulled the child up to a sitting posture, and then shrieked with terror--the girl's arm was gone. * * * * * and then in the blackness of night, lightened now by the white, seething, boiling surge, the people saw in the phosphorescent water countless hundreds of the savage terrors of the tia kau darting hither and thither amongst the canoes--for the smell of blood had brought them together instantly. presently a great grey monster tore the paddle from out the hands of the steersman of the canoe wherein were the terrified palu and the four children, and then, before the man for'ard could bring her head to the wind, she broached to and filled. like ravening wolves the sharks dashed upon their prey, and ere the people had time to give more than a despairing cry, those hideous jaws and gleaming cruel teeth had sealed their fate. maddened with fear, the rest of the people threw everything out of the six other canoes to lighten them, and as the bundles of mats and baskets of food touched the water the sharks seized and bit, tore and swallowed. then, one by one, every paddle was grabbed from the hands of the paddlers, and the canoes broached to and filled in that sea of death--all save one, which was carried by the force of the wind away from the rest. in this were the only survivors--two men. * * * * * the agony could not have lasted long. "were i to live as long as he whom the faifeau (missionary) tells us lived to be nine hundred and sixty and nine, i shall hear the groans and cries and shrieks of that po malaia, that night of evil luck," said one of the two who lived, to denison, the white trader at nanomea. "once did i have my paddle fast in the mouth of a little devil, and it drew me backwards, backwards, over the stern till my head touched the water. tah! but i was strong with fear, and held on, for to lose it meant death by the teeth. and tulua--he who came out alive with me, seized my feet and held on, else had i gone. but look thou at this"--and he pointed to his scarred neck and back and shoulders "ere i could free my foe (paddle) and raise my head, i was bitten thus by others. ah, papalagi, some men are born to wisdom, but most are fools. had not atupa been filled with vain fears, he had killed the man who caused him to lose so many of our people." "so," said the white man, "and wouldst thou have killed the man who brought thee the new faith? fie!" "aye, that would i--in those days when i was po uli uli [heathen, lit. "in the blackest night"]. but not now, for i am christian. yet had atupa killed and buried the stranger, we could have lied and said he died of a sickness when they of his people came to seek him. and then had i now my son tagipo with me, he who went into the bellies of the sharks at tia kau." pallou's taloi a memory of the paumotus i stayed once at rotoava--in the low archipelago, eastern polynesia--while suffering from injuries received in a boat accident one wild night. my host, the rotoava trader, was a sociable old pirate, whose convivial soul would never let him drink alone. he was by trade a boat-builder, having had, in his early days, a shed at miller's point, in sydney, where he made money and married a wife. but this latter event was poor tom oscott's undoing, and in the end he took his chest of tools on board the thyra trading brig, and sailed away to polynesia. finally, after many years' wandering, he settled down at rotoava as a trader and boat-builder, and became a noted drinker of bottled beer. the only method by which i could avoid his incessant invitations to "have another" was to get his wife and children to carry me down to his work-shed, built in a lovely spot surrounded by giant puka trees. here, under the shade, i had my mats spread, and with one of his children sitting at my head to fan away the flies, i lay and watched, through the belt of coconuts that lined the beach, the blue rollers breaking on the reef and the snow-white boatswain-birds floating high overhead. * * * * * tom was in the bush one morning when his family carried me to the boat-shed. he had gone for a log of seasoned toa wood [a hard wood much used in boat building] to another village. at noon he returned, and i heard him bawling for me. his little daughter, the fly-brusher, gave an answering yell, and then tom walked down the path, carrying two bottles of beer; behind him lucia, his eldest daughter, a monstrous creature of giggles, adipose tissue, and warm heart, with glasses and a plate of crackers; lastly, old marie, the wife, with a little table. "by ----, you've a lot more sense'n me. it's better lyin' here in the cool, than foolin' around in the sun; so i've brought yer suthin' to drink." "oh, tom," i groaned, "i'm sure that beer's bad for me." the maker of boats sat on his bench, and said that he knew of a brewer's carter in sydney who, at merriman's "pub," on miller's point, had had a cask of beer roll over him. smashed seven ribs, one arm, and one thigh. doctors gave him up; undertaker's man called on his wife for coffin order but a sailor chap said he'd pull him through. got an indiarubber tube and made him suck up as much beer as he could hold; kept it up till all his bones "setted" again, and he recovered. why shouldn't i--if i only drank enough? "hurry up, old dark-skin!"--this to the faded marie. uttering merely the word "hog!" she drew the cork. i had to drink some, and every hour or so tom would say it was very hot, and open yet another bottle. at last i escaped the beer by nearly dying, and then the kind old fellow hurried away in his boat to apatiki--another island of the group--and came back with some bottles of claret, bought from the french trader there. with him came two visitors--a big half-caste of middle age, and his wife, a girl of twenty or there-about. this was edward pallou and his wife taloi. * * * * * i was in the house when tom returned, enjoying a long-denied smoke. pallou and his wife entered and greeted me. the man was a fine, well-set-up fellow, wiry and muscular, with deep-set eyes, and bearing across his right cheek a heavy scar. his wife was a sweet, dainty little creature with red lips, dazzling teeth, hazel eyes, and long wavy hair. the first thing i noticed about her was, that instead of squatting on a mat in native fashion, she sank into a wide chair, and lying back enquired, with a pleasant smile and in perfect english, whether i was feeling any better. she was very fair, even for a paumotuan half-caste, as i thought she must be, and i said to pallou, "why, any one would take your wife to be an englishwoman!" "not i," said taloi, with a rippling laugh, as she commenced to make a banana-leaf cigarette; "i am a full-blooded south sea islander. i belong to apatiki, and was born there. perhaps i have white blood in me. who knows?--only my wise mother. but when i was twelve years old i was adopted by a gentleman in papeite, and he sent me to sydney to school. do you know sydney? well, i was three years with the misses f----, in ---street. my goodness! i was glad to leave--and so were the misses f---to see me go. they said i was downright wicked, because one day i tore the dress off a girl who said my skin was tallowy, like my name. when i came back to tahiti my guardian took me to raiatea, where he had a business, and said i must marry him, the beast!" "oh, shut up, taoi!" growled the deep-voiced pallou, who sat beside me. "what the deuce does this man care about your doings?" "shut up yourself, you brute! can't i talk to any one i like, you turtle-headed fool? am i not a good wife to you, you great, over-grown savage? won't you let a poor devil of a woman talk a little? look here, tom, do you see that flash jacket he's wearing? well, i sat up two nights making that--for him to come over here with, and show off before the rotoava girls. go and die, you ----!" the big half-caste looked at tom and then at me. his lips twitched with suppressed passion, and a dangerous gleam shone a moment in his dark eyes. "here, i say, taloi," broke in tom, good-humouredly, "just go easy a bit with ted. as for him a-looking at any of the girls here, i knows better--and so do you." taloi's laugh, clear as the note of a bird, answered him, and then she said she was sorry, and the lines around pallou's rigid mouth softened down. it was easy to see that this grim half-white loved, for all her bitter tongue, the bright creature who sat in the big chair. presently taloi and lucia went out to bathe, and pallou remained with me. tom joined us, and for a while no one spoke. then the trader, laying down his pipe on the table, drew his seat closer, and commenced, in low tones, a conversation in tahitian with pallou. from the earnest manner of old tom and the sullen gloom that overspread pallou's face, i could discern that some anxiety possessed them. at last tom addressed me. "look here, ----, ted here is in a mess, and we've just been a-talkin' of it over, and he says perhaps you'll do what you can for him." the half-caste turned his dark eyes on me and looked intently into mine. "what is it, tom?" "well, you see, it come about this way. you heard this chap's missus--taloi--a-talkin' about the frenchman that wanted to marry her. he had chartered a little schooner in papeite to go to raiatea. pallou here was mate, and, o' course, he being from the same part of the group as taloi, she ups and tells him that the frenchman wanted to marry her straightaway; and then i s'pose, the two gets a bit chummy, and pallou tells her that if she didn't want the man he'd see as how she wasn't forced agin' her will. so when the vessel gets to raiatea it fell calm, just about sunset. the frenchman was in a hurry to get ashore, and tells his skipper to put two men in the boat and some grub, as he meant to pull ashore to his station. so they put the boat over the side, and frenchy and taoi and pallou and two native chaps gets in and pulls for the land. "they gets inside uturoa about midnight. 'jump out,' says the frenchman to taloi as soon as the boat touches the beach; but the girl wouldn't, but ties herself up around pallou and squeals. 'sakker!' says the frenchy, and he grabs her by the hair and tries to tear her away. ''ere, stop that,' says pallou; 'the girl ain't willin',' an' he pushes frenchy away. 'sakker!' again, and frenchy whips out his pistol and nearly blows pallou's face off'n him; and then, afore he knows how it was done, ted sends his knife chunk home into the other fellow's throat. the two native sailors runned away ashore, and pallou and taloi takes the oars and pulls out again until they drops. then a breeze comes along, and they up stick and sails away and gets clear o' the group, and brings up, after a lot of sufferin', at rurutu. and ever since then there's been a french gunboat a-lookin' for pallou, and he's been hidin' at apatiki for nigh on a twelvemonth, and has come over here now to see if, when your ship comes back, you can't give him and his missus a passage away somewhere to the westward, out o' the run of that there gunboat, the vaudreuil." * * * * * i promised i would "work it" with the captain, and pallou put out his brawny hand--the hand that "drove it home into frenchy's throat"--and grasped mine in silence. then he lifted his jacket and showed me his money-belt, filled. "i don't want money," i said. "if you have told me the whole story, i would help any man in such a fix as you." and then taloi, fresh from her bath, came in and sat down on the mat, whilst fat lucia combed and dressed her glossy hair and placed therein scarlet hisbiscus flowers; and to show her returned good temper, she took from her lips the cigarette she was smoking, and offered it to the grim pallou. a month later we all three left rotoava, and pallou and taloi went ashore at one of the hervey group, where i gave him charge of a station with a small stock of trade, and we sailed away east-ward to pitcairn and easter islands. * * * * * pallou did a good business, and was well liked; and some seven months afterwards, when we were at maga reva, in the gambier group, i got a letter from him. "business goes well," he wrote, "but taloi is ill; i think she will die. you will find everything square, though, when you come." but i was never to see that particular island again, as the firm sent another vessel in place of ours to get pallou's produce. when the captain and the supercargo went ashore, a white trader met them, with a roll of papers in his hand. "pallou's stock-list," he said. "why, where is he? gone away?" "no, he's here still; planted alongside his missus." "dead!" "yes. a few months after he arrived here, that pretty little wife of his died. he came to me, and asked if i would come and take stock with him. i said he seemed in a bit of a hurry to start stocktaking before the poor thing was buried; but anyhow, i went, and we took stock, and he counted his cash, and asked me to lock the place up if anything happened to him. then we had a drink, and he bade me good-day, and said he was going to sit with taloi awhile, before they took her away. he sent the native women out of the bedroom, and the next minute i heard a shot. he'd done it, right enough. right through his brain, poor chap. i can tell you he thought a lot of that girl of his. there's the two graves, over there by that fetau tree. here's his stock-list and bag of cash and keys. would you mind giving me that pair of rubber sea-boots he left?" a basket of bread-fruit it was in steinberger's time [colonel steinberger, who in 1874 succeeded in forming a government in samoa]. a trader had come up to apia in his boat from the end of savaii, the largest of the samoan group, and was on his way home again, when the falling tide caused him to stop awhile at mulinu'u point, about two miles from apia. here he designed to smoke and talk, and drink kava at the great camp with some hospitable native acquaintances, during the rising of the water. soon he was taking his ease on a soft mat, watching the bevy of aua luma [the local girls] making a bowl of kava. now this trader lived at falealupo, at the extreme westerly end of savaii; but the samoans, by reason of its isolation and extremity, have for ages called it by another name--an unprintable one--and so some of the people present began to jest with the trader for living in such a place. he fell in with their humour, and said that if those present would find for him a wife, a girl unseared by the breath of scandal, he would leave falealupo for safune, where he had bought land. "malie!" said an old dame, with one eye and white hair, "the papalagi [foreigner] is inspired to speak wisdom to-night; for at safune grow the sweetest nuts and the biggest taro and bread-fruit; and lo! here among the kava-chewers is a young maid from safune--mine own grand-daughter salome. and against her name can no one in samoa laugh in the hollow of his hand," and the old creature, amid laughter and cries of isa! e le ma le lo matua (the old woman is without shame), crept over to the trader, and, with one skinny hand on his knee, gazed steadily into his face with her one eye. * * * * * the trader looked at the girl--at salome. she had, at her grandmother's speech, turned her head aside, and taking the "chaw" of kava-root from her pretty mouth, dissolved into shame-faced tears. the trader was a man of quick perceptions, and he made up his mind to do in earnest what he had said in jest--this because of the tears of salome. he quickly whispered to the old woman, "come to the boat before the full of the tide, and we will talk." when the kava was ready for drinking the others present had forgotten all about the old woman and salome, who had both crept away unobserved, and an hour or two was passed in merriment, for the trader was a man well liked. then, when he rose and said to fa, [good-bye] they begged him not to attempt to pass down in his boat inside the reef, as he was sure to be fired upon, for how were their people to tell a friend from an enemy in the black night? but the white man smiled, and said his boat was too heavily laden to face the ocean swell. so they bade him to fa, and called out manuia oe! [bless you!] as he lifted the door of thatch and went. * * * * * the old woman awaited him, holding the girl by the hand. on the ground lay a basket strongly tied up. salome still wept, but the old woman angrily bade her cease and enter the boat, which the crew had now pushed bow-on to the beach. the old woman lifted the basket and carefully put it on board. "be sure," she said to the crew, "not to sit on it for it is very ripe bread-fruit that i am taking to my people in manono." "give them here to me," said the trader, and he put the basket in the stern out of the way. the old woman came aft, too, and crouched at his feet and smoked a sului [a cigarette rolled in dried banana leaf]. the cool land-breeze freshened as the sail was hoisted, and then the crew besought the trader not to run down inside the reef. bullets, they said, if fired in plenty, always hit something, and the sea was fairly smooth outside the reef. and old lupetea grasped his hand and muttered in his ear, "for the sake of this my little daughter go outside. see, now, i am old, and to lie when so near death as i am is foolish. be warned by me and be wise; sail out into the ocean, and at daylight we shall be at salua in manono. then thou canst set my feet on the shore--i and the basket. but the girl shall go with thee. thou canst marry her, if that be to thy mind, in the fashion of the papalagi, or take her fa'a samoa [samoan fashion]. thus will i keep faith with thee. if the girl be false, her neck is but little and thy fingers strong." now the trader thought in this wise: "this is well for me, for if i get the girl away thus quietly from all her relations i shall save much in presents," and his heart rejoiced, for although not mean he was a careful man. so he steered his boat seaward, between the seething surf that boiled and hissed on both sides of the boat passage. * * * * * as the boat sailed past the misty line of cloud-capped upolu, the trader lifted the girl up beside him and spoke to her. she was not afraid of him, she said, for many had told her he was a good man, and not an ula vale (scamp), but she wept because now, save her old grandmother, all her kinsfolk were dead. even but a day and a half ago her one brother was killed with her cousin. they were strong men, but the bullets were swift, and so they died. and their heads had been shown at matautu. for that she had grieved and wept and eaten nothing, and the world was cold and dark to her. "poor little devil!" said the trader to himself--"hungry." then he opened a locker and found a tin of sardines. not a scrap of biscuit. there was plenty of biscuit, though, in the boat, in fifty-pound tins, but on these mats were spread, where-on his crew were sleeping. he was about to rouse them when he remembered the old dame's basket of ripe bread-fruit. he laughed and looked at her. she, too, slept, coiled up at his feet. but first he opened the sardines and placed them beside the girl, and motioned her to steer. her eyes gleamed like diamonds in the darkness as she answered his glance, and her soft fingers grasped the tiller. very quickly, then, he felt among the packages aft till he came to the basket. a quick stroke of his knife cut the cinnet that lashed the sides together. he felt inside. "only two, after all, but big ones, and no mistake. wrapped in cloth, too! i wonder--hell and furies! what's this?"--as his fingers came in contact with something that felt like a human eye. drawing his hand quickly back, he fumbled in his pockets for a match, and struck it. bread-fruit! no. two heads with closed eyes and livid lips blue with the pallor of death, showing their white teeth. and salome covered her face and slid down in the bottom of the boat again, and wept afresh for her cousin and brother, and the boat came up in the wind, but no one awoke. * * * * * the trader was angry. but after he had tied up the basket again he put the boat on her course once more and called to the girl. she crept close to him and nestled under his overcoat, for the morning air came across the sea from the dew-laden forests, and she was chilled. then she told the story of how her granddam had begged the heads from those of malietoa's troops who had taken them at matautu, and then gone to the camp at mulinu'u in the hope of getting a passage in some boat to manono, her country, where she would fain bury them. and that night he had come, and old lupetea had rejoiced, and sworn her to secrecy about the heads in the basket. and that also was why lupetea was afraid of the boat going down inside the passage, for there were many enemies to be met with, and they would have shot old lupetea because she was of manono. that was all. then she ate the sardines, and, leaning her head against the trader's bosom, fell asleep. * * * * * as the first note of the great grey pigeon sounded the dawn, the trader's boat sailed softly up to the salua beach, and old lupetea rose, and, bidding the crew good-bye, and calling down blessings on the head of the good and clever white man, as she rubbed his and the girl's noses against her own, she grasped her basket of bread-fruit and went ashore. then the trader, with salome nestling to his side, sailed out again into the ocean towards his home. enderby's courtship the two ghastly creatures sat facing each other in their wordless misery as the wind died away and the tattered remnants of the sail hung motionless after a last faint flutter. the thing that sat aft--for surely so grotesquely horrible a vision could not be a man--pointed with hands like the talons of a bird of prey to the purple outline of the island in the west, and his black, blood-baked lips moved, opened, and essayed to speak. the other being that, with bare and skinny arms clasped around its bony knees, sat crouched in the bottom of the boat, leaned forward to listen. "ducie island, enderby," said the first in a hoarse, rattling whisper; "no one on it; but water is there ... and plenty of birds and turtle, and a few coconuts." at the word "water" the listener gave a curious gibbering chuckle, unclasped his hands from his knees, and crept further towards the speaker. "and the current is setting us down to it, wind or no wind. i believe we'll see this pleasure-trip through, after all"--and the black lips parted in a hideous grimace. the man whom he called enderby sank his head again upon his knees, and his dulled and bloodshot eyes rested on something that lay at the captain's feet--the figure of a woman enveloped from her shoulders down in a ragged native mat. for some hours past she had lain thus, with the grey shadows of coming dissolution hovering about her pallid face, and only the faintest movement of lips and eyelids to show that she still lived. * * * * * the black-whiskered man who steered looked down for a second upon the face beneath him with the unconcern for others born of the agony of thirst and despair, and again his gaunt face turned to the land. yet she was his wife, and not six weeks back he had experienced a cold sort of satisfaction in the possession of so much beauty. he remembered that day now. enderby, the passenger from sydney, and he were walking the poop; his wife was asleep in a deck-chair on the other side. an open book lay in her lap. as the two men passed and re-passed her, the one noted that the other would glance in undisguised and honest admiration at the figure in the chair. and enderby, who was as open as the day, had said to him, langton, that the sleeping mrs langton made as beautiful a picture as he had ever seen. * * * * * the sail stirred, filled out, and then drooped again, and the two spectres, with the sleeping woman between, still sat with their hungry eyes gazing over toward the land. as the sun sank, the outlines of the verdure-clad summits and beetling cliffs stood forth clearly for a short minute or two, as if to mock them with hope, and then became enshrouded in the tenebrous night. * * * * * another hour, and a faint sigh came from the ragged mat. enderby, for ever on the watch, had first seen a white hand silhouetted against the blackness of the covering, and knew that she was still alive. and as he was about to call langton, who lay in the stern-sheets muttering in hideous dreams, he heard the woman's voice calling him. with panting breath and trembling limbs he crawled over beside her and gently touched her hand. "thank god, you are alive, mrs langton. shall i wake captain langton? we must be nearing the land." "no, don't. let him sleep. but i called you, mr enderby, to lift me up. i want to see where the rain is coming from." enderby groaned in anguish of spirit. "rain? god has forgotten us, i----," and then he stopped in shame at betraying his weakness before a woman. the soft, tender tones again--"ah, do help me up, please, i can feel the rain is near." then the man, with hot tears of mingled weakness and pity coursing down his cheeks, raised her up. "why, there it is, mr enderby--and the land as well! and it's a heavy squall, too," and she pointed to a moving, inky mass that half concealed the black shadow of the island. "quick, take my mat; one end of it is tight and will hold water." "langton, la-a-ngton! here's a rain squall coming!" and enderby pressed the woman's hand to his lips and kissed it again and again. then with eager hands he took the mat from her, and staggering forward to the bows stretched the sound end across and bellied it down. and then the moving mass that was once black, and was now white, swept down upon them, and brought them life and joy. langton, with an empty beef-tin in his hand, stumbled over his wife's figure, plunged the vessel into the water and drank again and again. "curse you, you brute!" shouted enderby through the wild noise of the hissing rain, "where is your wife? are you going to let her lie there without a drink?" langton answered not, but drank once more. then enderby, with an oath, tore the tin from his hand, filled it and took it to her, holding her up while she drank. and as her eyes looked gratefully into his while he placed her tenderly back in the stern-sheets, the madness of a moment overpowered him, and he kissed her on the lips. concerned only with the nectar in the mat, langton took no regard of enderby as he opened the little locker, pulled out a coarse dungaree jumper, and wrapped it round the thinly-clad and drenched figure of the woman. she was weeping now, partly from the joy of knowing that she was not to die of the agonies of thirst in an open boat in mid-pacific, and partly because the water had given her strength to remember that langton had cursed her when he had stumbled over her to get at the water in the mat. * * * * * she had married him because of his handsome face and dashing manner for one reason, and because her pious scotch father, also a sydney-tahitian trading captain, had pointed out to her that langton had made and was still making money in the island trade. her ideal of a happy life was to have her husband leave the sea and buy an estate either in tahiti or chili. she knew both countries well: the first was her birthplace, and between there and valparaiso and sydney her money-grubbing old father had traded for years, always carrying with him his one daughter, whose beauty the old man regarded as a "vara vain thing," but likely to procure him a "weel-to-do mon" for a son-in-law. mrs langton cared for her husband in a prosaic sort of way, but she knew no more of his inner nature and latent utter selfishness a year after her marriage than she had known a year before. yet, because of the strain of dark blood in her veins--her mother was a tahitian half-caste--she felt the mastery of his savage resolution in the face of danger in the thirteen days of horror that had elapsed since the brigantine crashed on an uncharted reef between pitcairn and ducie islands, and the other boat had parted company with them, taking most of the provisions and water. and to hard, callous natures such as langton's women yield easily and admire--which is better, perhaps, than loving, for both. but that savage curse still sounded in her ears, and unconsciously made her think of enderby, who had always, ever since the eighth day in the boat, given her half his share of water. little did she know the agony it cost him the day before when the water had given out, to bring her the whole of his allowance. and as she drank, the man's heart had beaten with a dull sense of pity, the while his baser nature called out, "fool! it is his place, not yours, to suffer for her." * * * * * at daylight the boat was close in to the land, and langton, in his cool, cynical fashion, told his wife and enderby to finish up the last of the meat and biscuit--for if they capsized getting through into the lagoon, he said, they would never want any more. he had eaten all he wanted unknown to the others, and looked with an unmoved face at enderby soaking some biscuit in the tin for his wife. then, with the ragged sail fluttering to the wind, langton headed the boat through the passage into the glassy waters of the lagoon, and the two tottering men, leading the woman between them, sought the shelter of a thicket scrub, impenetrable to the rays of the sun, and slept. and then for a week enderby went and scoured the reefs for food for her. * * * * * one day at noon enderby awoke. the woman still slept heavily, the first sign of returning strength showing as a faint tinge in the pallor of her cheek. langton was gone. a sudden chill passed over him--had langton taken the boat and left them to die on lonely ducie? with hasty step enderby hurried to the beach. the boat was there, safe. and at the farther end of the beach he saw langton, sitting on the sand, eating. "selfish brute!" muttered enderby. "i wonder what he's got?" just then he saw, close overhead, a huge ripe pandanus, and, picking up a heavy, flat piece of coral, he tried to ascend the triplicated bole of the tree and hammer off some of the fruit. langton looked up at him, and showed his white teeth in a mocking smile at the futile effort. enderby walked over to him, stone in hand. he was not a vindictive man, but he had grown to hate langton fiercely during the past week for his selfish neglect of his wife. and here was the fellow, gorging himself on turtle-eggs, and his tender, delicate wife living on shell-fish and pandanus. * * * * * "langton," he said, speaking thickly and pretending not to notice the remainder of the eggs, "the tide is out, and we may get a turtle in one of the pools if you come with me. mrs langton needs something better than that infernal pandanus fruit. her lips are quite sore and bleeding from eating it." the inner nature came out. "are they? my wife's lips seem to give you a very great deal of concern. she has not said anything to me. and i have an idea----" the look in enderby's face shamed into silence the slander he was about to utter. then he added coolly--"but as for going with you after a turtle, thanks, i won't. i've found a nest here, and have had a good square feed. if the cursed man-o'-war hawks and boobies hadn't been here before me i'd have got the whole lot." then he tore the skin off another egg with his teeth. with a curious guttural voice enderby asked--"how many eggs were left?" "thirty or so--perhaps forty." "and you have eaten all but those?"--pointing with savage contempt to five of the round, white balls; "give me those for your wife." "my dear man, louise has too much island blood in her not to be able to do better than i--or you--in a case like ours. and as you have kindly constituted yourself her providore, you had better go and look for a nest yourself." "you dog!"--and the sharp-edged coral stone crashed into his brain. * * * * * when enderby returned, he found mrs langton sitting up on the creeper-covered mound that over-looked the beach where he had left langton. "come away from here," he said, "into the shade. i have found a few turtle-eggs." they walked back a little and sat down. but for the wild riot in his brain, enderby would have noted that every vestige of colour had left her face. "you must be hungry," he thought he was saying to her, and he placed the white objects in her lap. she turned them slowly over and over in her hands, and then dropped them with a shudder. some were flecked with red. "for god's sake," the man cried, "tell me what you know!" "i saw it all," she answered. "i swear to you, mrs lan----" (the name stuck in his throat) "i never meant it. as god is my witness, i swear it. if we ever escape from here i will give myself up to justice as a murderer." the woman, with hands spread over her face, shook her head from side to side and sobbed. then she spoke. "i thought i loved him, once.... yet it was for me ... and you saved my life over and over again in the boat. all sinners are forgiven we are told.... why should not you be? ... and it was for me you did it. and i won't let you give yourself up to justice or any one. i'll say he died in the boat." and then the laughter of hysterics. * * * * * when, some months later, the josephine, whaler, of new london, picked them up on her way to japan, via the carolines and pelews, the captain satisfactorily answered the query made by enderby if he could marry them. he "rayther thought he could. a man who was used ter ketchin' and killin'whales, the powerfullest creature of almighty gawd's creation, was ekal to marryin' a pair of unfortunit human beans in sich a pre-carus situation as theirs." * * * * * and, by the irony of fate, the enderbys (that isn't their name) are now living in a group of islands where there's quite a trade done in turtle, and whenever a ship's captain comes to dine with them they never have the local dish--turtle eggs--for dinner. "we see them so often," enderby explains, "and my wife is quite tired of them." long charley's good little wife there was the island, only ten miles away, and there it had been for a whole week. sometimes we had got near enough to see long charley's house and the figures of natives walking on the yellow beach; and then the westerly current would set us away to leeward again. but that night a squall came up, and in half an hour we were running down to the land. when the lights on the beach showed up we hove-to until daylight, and then found the surf too heavy to let us land. * * * * * we got in close to the reef, and could see that the trader's copra-house was full, for there were also hundreds of bags outside, awaiting our boats. it was clearly worth staying for. the trader, a tall, thin, pyjama-clad man, came down to the water's edge, waved his long arm, and then turned back and sat down on a bag of copra. we went about and passed the village again, and once more the long man came to the water's edge, waved his arm, and retired to his seat. in the afternoon we saw a native and charley together among the bags; then the native left him, and, as it was now low tide, the kanaka was able to walk to the edge of the reef, where he signalled to us. seeing that he meant to swim off, the skipper went in as close as possible, and backed his foreyard. watching his chance for a lull in the yet fierce breakers, the native slid over the reef and swam out to us as only a line islander or a tokelau man can swim. "how's charley?" we asked, when the dark man reached the deck. "who? charley? oh, he fine, plenty copra. tapa my bowels are filled with the sea--for one dollar! here ariki vaka (captain) and you tuhi tuhi (supercargo)," said the native, removing from his perforated and pendulous ear-lobe a little roll of leaf, "take this letter from the mean man that giveth but a dollar for facing such a galu (surf). hast plenty tobacco on board, friends of my heart? apa, the surf! not a canoe crew could the white man get to face it. is it good twist tobacco, friends, or the flat cakes? know that i am a man of nanomea, not one of these dog-eating people here, and a strong swimmer, else the letter had not come." the supercargo took the note. it was rolled up in many thicknesses of banana-leaf, which had kept it dry-"dear friends,--i have been waiting for you for near 5 months. i am chock full of cobberah and shark fins one ton. i am near starved out, no biscit, no beef, no flour, not enything to eat. for god's saik send me a case of gin ashore if you don't mean to hang on till the sea goes down or i shall starve. not a woman comes near me because i am run out of traid, so please try also to send a peece of good print, as there are some fine women here from nukunau, and i think i can get one for a wife if i am smart. if you can't take my cobberah, and mean to go away, send the squair face [square face--hollands gin], for god's saik, and something for the woman,--your obliged friend, charles." we parcelled a bottle of gin round with a small coir line, and sent it ashore by the nanomea man. charley and a number of natives came to the edge of the reef to lend a hand in landing the bearer of the treasure. then they all waded back to the beach, headed by the white man in the dirty pyjamas and sodden-looking fala hat. reaching his house, he turned his following away, and shut the door. "i bet a dollar that fellow wouldn't swap billets with the angel gabriel at this partikler moment," said our profane mate thoughtfully. * * * * * we started weighing and shipping the copra next day. after finishing up, the solemn charley invited the skipper and supercargo to remain ashore till morning. his great trouble, he told us, was that he had not yet secured a wife, "a reg'lar wife, y'know." he had, unluckily, "lost the run" of the last mrs charley during his absence at another island of the group, and negotiations with various local young women had been broken off owing to his having run out of trade. in the south seas, as in the civilised world generally, to get the girl of your heart is usually a mere matter of trade. there were, he told us with a melancholy look, "some fine nukunau girls here on a visit, but the one i want don't seem to care much about stayin', unless all this new trade fetches her." "who is she?" enquired the skipper. "tibakwa's daughter." "let's have a look at her," said the skipper, a man of kind impulses, who felt sorry at the intermittency of the long one's connubial relations. the tall, scraggy trader shambled to the door and bawled out: "tibakwa, tibakwa, tibakwa, o!" three times. the people, singing in the big moniep or town-house, stopped their monotonous droning, and the name of tibakwa, was yelled vociferously through-out the village in true gilbert group style. in the gilberts, if a native in one corner of a house speaks to another in the opposite, he bawls loud enough to be heard a mile off. * * * * * tibakwa (the shark) was a short, squat fellow, with his broad back and chest scored and seamed with an intricate and inartistic network of cicatrices made by sharks' teeth swords. his hair, straight, coarse, and jet-black, was cut away square from just above his eyebrows to the top of his ears, leaving his fierce countenance in a sort of frame. each ear-lobe bore a load--one had two or three sticks of tobacco, twined in and about the distended circle of flesh, and the other a clasp-knife and wooden pipe. stripped to the waist he showed his muscular outlines to perfection, and he sat down unasked in the bold, self-confident, half-defiant manner natural to the line islander. * * * * * "where's tirau?" asked the trader. "here," said the man of wounds, pointing outside, and he called out in a voice like the bellow of a bull--"tirau o, nako mai! (come here!)" tirau came in timidly, clothed only in an airiri or girdle, and slunk into a far corner. the melancholy trader and the father pulled her out, and she dumped herself down in the middle of the room with a muttered "e puak acaron; kacaron; te malan! (bad white man)." "fine girl, charley," said the skipper, digging him in the ribs. "ought to suit you, eh! make a good little wife." negotiations then began anew. father willing to part, girl frightened--commenced to cry. the astute charley brought out some new trade. tirau's eye here displayed a faint interest. charley threw her, with the air of a prince, a whole piece of turkey twill, 12 yards--value three dollars, cost about 2s. 3d. tirau put out a little hand and drew it gingerly toward her. tibakwa gave us an atrocious wink. "she's cottoned!" exclaimed charley. * * * * * and thus, without empty and hollow display, were two loving hearts made to beat as one. as a practical proof of the solemnity of the occasion, the bridegroom then and there gave tirau his bunch of keys, which she carefully tied to a strand of her airiri, and, smoking one of the captain's manillas, she proceeded to bash out the mosquitoes from the nuptial couch with a fan. we assisted her, an hour afterwards, to hoist the sleeping body of long charley therein, and, telling her to bathe his head in the morning with cold water, we rose to go. "good-bye, tirau!" we said. "tiakapo [good-night]", said the good little wife, as she rolled up an empty square gin bottle in one of charley's shirts for a pillow, and disposed her graceful figure on the matted floor beside his bed, to fight mosquitoes until daylight. the methodical mr burr of maduro one day ned burr, a fellow trader, walked slowly up the path to my station, and with a friendly nod sat down and watched intently as, with native assistance, i set about salting some pork. ned lived thirty miles from my place, on a little island at the entrance to the lagoon. he was a prosperous man, and only drank under the pressure of the monotony caused by the non-arrival of a ship to buy his produce. he would then close his store, and, aided by a number of friendly male natives, start on a case of gin. but never a woman went into ned's house, though many visited the store, where ned bought their produce, paid for it in trade or cash, and sent them off, after treating them on a strictly business basis. now, the marshall island women much resented this. since ned's wife had died, ten years previously, the women, backed by the chiefs, had made most decided, but withal diplomatic, assaults upon his celibacy. the old men of his village had respectfully and repeatedly reminded him that his state of singleness was not a direct slight to themselves as leading men alone. if he refused to marry again he surely would not cast such a reflection upon the personal characters of some two or three hundred young girls as to refuse a few of them the position of honorary wives pro tem., or until he found one whom he might think worthy of higher honours. but the slow-thinking, methodical trader only opened a bottle of gin, gave them fair words and a drink all round, and absolutely declined to open any sort of matrimonial negotiations. * * * * * "i'm come to hev some talk with you when you've finished saltin'," he said, as he rose and meditatively prodded a junk of meat with his forefinger. "right, old man," i said. "i'll come now," and we went into the big room and sat down. "air ye game ter come and see me get married?" he asked, looking away past me, through the open door, to where the surf thundered and tumbled on the outer reef. "ned," i said solemnly, "i know you don't joke, so you must mean it. of course i will. i'm sure all of us fellows will be delighted to hear you're going to get some nice little carajz [an unmarried girl] to lighten up that big house of yours over there. who's the girl, ned?" "le-jennabon." "whew!" i said, "why, she's the daughter of the biggest chief on arhnu. i didn't think any white man could get her, even if he gave her people a boat-load of dollars as a wedding-gift." "well, no," said ned, stroking his beard meditatively, "i suppose i should feel a bit set up; but two years ago her people said that, because i stood to them in the matter of some rifles when they had trouble with king jibberick, i could take her. she was rather young then, any way; but i've been over to arhnu several times, and i've had spies out, and damn me if i ever could hear a whisper agin' her. i'm told for sure that her father and uncles would ha' killed any one that came after her. so i'm a-goin' to take her and chance it." "ned," i said, "you know your own affairs and these people better than i do. yet are you really going to pin your faith on a marshall island girl? you are not like any of us traders. you see, we know what to expect sometimes, and our morals are a lot worse than those of the natives. and it doesn't harrow our feelings much if any one of us has to divorce a wife and get another; it only means a lot of new dresses and some guzzling, drinking, and speechifying, and some bother in teaching the new wife how to make bread. but your wife that died was a manhikian--another kind. they don't breed that sort here in the marshalls. think of it twice, ned, before you marry her." * * * * * the girl was a beauty. there are many like her in that far-away cluster of coral atolls. that she was a chief's child it was easy to see; the abject manner in which the commoner natives always behaved themselves in her presence showed their respect for le-jennabon. of course we all got very jolly. there were half a dozen of us traders there, and we were, for a wonder, all on friendly terms. le-jennabon sat on a fine mat in the big room, and in a sweetly dignified manner received the wedding-gifts. one of our number, charlie de buis, though in a state of chronic poverty, induced by steadfast adherence to square gin at five dollars a case, made his offerings--a gold locket covering a woman's miniature, a heavy gold ring, and a pair of fat, cross-bred muscovy ducks. the bride accepted them with a smile. "who is this?" she asked, looking at the portrait--"your white wife?" "no," replied the bashful charles, "another man's. that's why i give it away, curse her! but the ducks i bred myself on madurocaron." * * * * * a month or two passed. then, on one sunday afternoon, about dusk, i saw ned's whale-boat coming over across the lagoon. i met him on the beach. trouble was in his face, yet his hard, impassive features were such that only those who knew him well could discover it. instead of entering the house, he silently motioned me to come further along the sand, where we reached an open spot clear of coco palms. ned sat down and filled his pipe. i waited patiently. the wind had died away, and the soft swish and swirl of the tide as the ripples lapped the beach was the only sound that broke upon the silence of the night. * * * * * "you were right. but it doesn't matter now ..." he laughed softly. "a week ago a canoe-party arrived from ebon. there were two chiefs. of course they came to my house to trade. they had plenty of money. there were about a hundred natives belonging to them. the younger man was chief of likieb--a flash buck. the first day he saw le-jennabon he had a lot too much to say to her. i watched him. next morning my toddy-cutter came and told me that the flash young chief from likieb had stuck him up and drank my toddy, and had said something about my wife--you know how they talk in parables when they mean mischief. i would have shot him for the toddy racket, but i was waitin' for a better reason.... the old hag who bosses my cook-shed said to me as she passed, 'go and listen to a song of cunning over there'--pointing to a clump of bread-fruit trees. i walked over--quietly. le-jennabon and her girls were sitting down on mats. outside the fence was a lad singing this--in a low voice- "'marriage hides the tricks of lovers.' "le-jennabon and the girls bent their heads and said nothing. then the devil's imp commenced again- "'marriage hides the tricks of lovers.' "some of the girls laughed and whispered to le-jennabon. she shook her head, and looked around timorously. plain enough, wasn't it? presently the boy creeps up to the fence, and drops over a wreath of yellow blossoms. the girls laughed. one of them picked it up, and offered it to le-jennabon. she waved it away. then, again, the cub outside sang softly- "'marriage hides the tricks of lovers,' "and they all laughed again, and le-jennabon put the wreath on her head, and i saw the brown hide of the boy disappear among the trees." * * * * * i went back to the house. i wanted to make certain she would follow the boy first. after a few minutes some of le-jennabon's women came to me, and said they were going to the weather side of the island--it's narrer across, as you know--to pick flowers. i said all right, to go, as i was going to do something else, so couldn't come with them. then i went to the trade-room and got what i wanted. the old cook-hag showed me the way they had gone, and grinned when she saw what i had slid down inside my pyjamas. i cut round and got to the place. i had a right good idea where it was. * * * * * "the girls soon came along the path, and then stopped and talked to le-jennabon and pointed to a clump of bread-fruit trees standing in an arrow-root patch. she seemed frightened--but went. half-way through she stopped, and then i saw my beauty raise his head from the ground and march over to her. i jest giv' him time ter enjoy a smile, and then i stepped out and toppled him over. right through his carcase--them sharp's rifle make a hole you could put your fist into. "the girl dropped too--sheer funk. old lebauro, the cook, slid through the trees and stood over him, and said, 'u, guk! he's a fine-made man,' and gave me her knife; and then i collared le-jennabon, and----" "for god's sake, ned, don't tell me you killed her too!" he shook his head slowly. "no, i couldn't hurt her. but i held her with one hand, she feeling dead and cold, like a wet deck-swab; then the old cook-woman undid my flash man's long hair, and, twining her skinny old claws in it, pulled it taut, while i sawed at the chap's neck with my right hand. the knife was heavy and sharp, and i soon got the job through. then i gave the thing to le-jennabon to carry. * * * * * "i made her walk in front of me. every time she dropped the head i slewed her round and made her lift it up again. and the old cook-devil trotted astern o' us. when we came close to the town, i says to le-jennabon: "'do you want to live?' "'yes,' says she, in a voice like a whisper. "'then sing,' says i, 'sing loud- "'marriage hides the tricks of lovers,' and she sang it in a choky kind of quaver. "there was a great rush o' people ter see the procession. they stood in a line on both sides of the path, and stared and said nothin'. "presently we comes to where all the likieb chief's people was quartered. they knew the head and ran back for their rifles, but my crowd in the village was too strong, and, o' course, sided with me, and took away their guns. then the crowd gathers round my place, and i makes le-jennabon hold up the head and sing again--sing that devil's chant. "'listen,' i says to the people, 'listen to my wife singing a love song.' then i takes the thing, wet and bloody, and slings it into the middle of the likieb people, and gave le-jennabon a shove and sent her inside." * * * * * i was thinking what would be the best thing to say, and could only manage "it's a bad business, ned." "bad! that's where you're wrong," and, rising, ned brushed the sand off the legs of his pyjamas. "it's just about the luckiest thing as could ha' happened. ye see, it's given le-jennabon a good idea of what may happen to her if she ain't mighty correct. an' it's riz me a lot in the esteem of the people generally as a man who hez business principles." a truly great man a mid-pacific sketch then the flag of "bobby" towns, of sydney, was still mighty in the south seas. the days had not come in which steamers with brass-bound supercargoes, carrying tin boxes and taking orders like merchants' bagmen, for goods "to arrive," exploited the ellice, kingsmill, and gilbert groups. bluff-bowed old wave-punchers like the spec, the lady alicia and the e. k. bateson plunged their clumsy hulls into the rolling swell of the mid-pacific, carrying their "trade" of knives, axes, guns, bad rum, and good tobacco, instead of, as now, white umbrellas, paper boots and shoes, german sewing-machines and fancy prints--"zephyrs," the smartly-dressed paper-collared supercargo of to-day calls them, as he submits a card of patterns to emilia, the native teacher's wife, who, as the greatest lady in the land, must have first choice. * * * * * in those days the sleek native missionary was an unknown quantity in the tokelaus and kingsmills, and the local white trader answered all requirements. he was generally a rough character--a runaway from some australian or american whaler, or a wandering ishmael, who, for reasons of his own, preferred living among the intractable, bawling, and poverty-stricken people of the equatorial pacific to dreaming away his days in the monotonously happy valleys of the society and marquesas groups. * * * * * such a man was probyn, who dwelt on one of the low atolls of the ellice islands. he had landed there one day from a sydney sperm whaler with a chest of clothes, a musket or two, and a tierce of twist tobacco; with him came a savage-eyed, fierce-looking native wife, over whose bared shoulders and bosom fell long waves of black hair; with her was a child about five years old. the second mate of the whaler, who was in charge of the boat, not liking the looks of the excited natives who swarmed around the newcomer, bade him a hurried farewell, and pushed away to the ship, which lay-to off the passage with her fore-yard aback. then the clamorous people pressed more closely around probyn and his wife, and assailed them with questions. so far neither of them had spoken. probyn, a tall, wiry, scanty-haired man, with quiet, deep-set eyes, was standing with one foot on the tierce of tobacco and his hands in his pockets. his wife glared defiantly at some two or three score of reddish-brown women who crowded eagerly around her to stare into her face; holding to the sleeve of her dress was the child, paralysed into the silence of fright. * * * * * the deafening babble and frantic gesticulations were perfectly explicable to probyn, and he apprehended no danger. the head man of the village had not yet appeared, and until he came this wild license of behaviour would continue. at last the natives became silent and parted to the right and left as tahori, the head man, his fat body shining with coconut oil, and carrying an ebony-wood club in his hand, stood in front of the white man and eyed him up and down. the scrutiny seemed satisfactory. he stretched out his huge, naked arm, and shook probyn's hand, uttering his one word of samoan--"talofa!" [lit., "my love to you", the samoan salutation] and then, in his own dialect, he asked: "what is your name, and what do you want?" "sam," replied probyn. and then, in the tokelau language, which the wild-eyed people around him fairly understood, "i have come here to live with you and trade for oil"--and he pointed to the tierce of tobacco. "where are you from?" "from the land called nukunono, in the tokelau." "why come here?" "because i killed an enemy there." "good!" grunted the fat man; "there are no twists in thy tongue; but why did the boat hasten away so quickly?" "they were frightened because of the noise. he with the face like a fowl's talked too much"--and he pointed to a long, hatchet-visaged native, who had been especially turbulent and vociferous. * * * * * "ha!" and the fat, bearded face of tahori turned from the white man to him of whom the white man had spoken--"is it thee, makoi? and so thou madest the strangers hasten away! that was wrong. only for thee i had gone to the ship and gotten many things. come hither!" then he stooped and picked up one of probyn's muskets, handed it to the white man, and silently indicated the tall native with a nod. the other natives fell back. niabong, probyn's wife, set her boy on his feet, put her hand in her bosom and drew out a key, with which she opened the chest. she threw back the lid, fixed her black eyes on probyn, and waited. probyn, holding the musket in his left hand, mused a moment. then he asked: "whose man is he?" "mine," said tahori; "he is from oaitupu, and my bondman." "hath he a wife?" "nay; he is poor, and works in my puraka [a coarse species of taro (arum esculentum) growing on the low-lying atolls of the mid-pacific.] field!" "good," said probyn, and he motioned to his wife. she dived her hand into the chest and handed him a tin of powder, then a bullet, a cap, and some scraps of paper. slowly he loaded the musket, and tahori, seizing the bondman by his arm, led him out to the open, and stood by, club in hand, on the alert. probyn knew his reputation depended on the shot. he raised his musket and fired. the ball passed through the chest of makoi. then four men picked up the body and carried it into a house. * * * * * probyn laid down the musket and motioned again to niabong. she handed him a hatchet and blunt chisel. tahori smiled pleasantly, and, drawing the little boy to him, patted his head. then, at a sign from him, a woman brought niabong a shell of sweet toddy. the chief sat cross-legged and watched probyn opening the tierce of tobacco. niabong locked the box again and sat upon it. "who are you?" said tahori, still caressing the boy, to the white man's wife. "niabong. but my tongue twists with your talk here. i am of naura (pleasant island). by-and-by i shall understand it." "true. he is a great man, thy man," said the chief, nodding at probyn. "a great man, truly. there is not one thing in the world but he can do it." "e moe [true]," said the fat man, approvingly; "i can see it. look you, he shall be as my brother, and thy child here shall eat of the best in the land." probyn came over with his two hands filled with sticks of tobacco. "bring a basket," he said. a young native girl slid out from the coconut grove at tahori's bidding, and stood behind him holding a basket. probyn counted out into it two hundred sticks of tobacco. "see, tahori. i am a just man to thee because thou art a just man to me. here is the price of him that thou gavest to me." tahori rose and beckoned to the people to return. "look at this man. he is a truly great man. his heart groweth from his loins upwards to his throat. bring food to my house quickly, that he and his wife and child may eat. and to-morrow shall every man cut wood for his house, a house that shall be in length six fathoms, and four in width. such men as he come from the gods." the doctor's wife consanguinity--from a polynesian standpoint "oho!" said lagisiva, the widow, tossing her hair back over her shoulders, as she raised the heavy, fluted tappa mallet in her thick, strong right hand, and dealt the rough cloth a series of quick strokes--"oho!" said the dark-faced lagisiva, looking up at the white man, "because i be a woman dost think me a fool? i tell thee i know some of the customs of the papalagi (the white foreigners). much wisdom have ye in many things; but again i tell thee, o friend of my sons, that in some other things the people of thy nation--ay, of all white nations, they be as the beasts of the forest--the wild goat and pig--without reason and without shame. tah! has not my eldest son, tui fau, whom the white men call bob, lived for seven years in sini (sydney), when he returned from those places by new guinea, where he was diver? and he has filled my ears with the bad and shameless customs of the papalagi. isa! i say again thy women have not the shame of ours. the heat of desire devoureth chastity even in those of one blood!" "in what do they offend, o my mother?" "aue! life is short; and, behold, this piece of siapo [the tappa cloth of the south seas, made from the bark of the paper mulberry.] is for a wedding present, and i must hurry; but yet put down thy gun and bag, and we shall smoke awhile, and thou shalt feel shame while i tell of one of the papalagi customs--the marrying of brother and sister!" "nay, mother," said the white man, "not brother and sister, but only cousins." "isa! [an expression of contempt]" and the big widow spat scornfully on the ground, "those are words--words. it is the same; the same is the blood, the same is the bone. even in our heathen days we pointed the finger at one who looked with the eye of love on the daughter of his father's brother or sister--for such did we let his blood out upon the sand. and i, old lagisiva, have seen a white man brought to shame through this wickedness!" "tell me," said the white man. * * * * * "he was a foma'i (doctor), and rich, and came here because he desired to see strange places, and was weary of his life in the land of the papalagi. so he remained with us, and hunted the wild boar with our young men, and became strong and hardy, and like unto one of our people. and then, because he was for ever restless, he sailed away once and returned in a small ship, and brought back trade and built a store and a fine house to dwell in. the chief of this town gave him, for friendship, a piece of land over there by the vai-ta-milo, and thus did he become a still greater man. his store was full of rich goods, and he kept many servants, and at night-time his house was as a blaze of fire, for the young men and women would go there and sing and dance, and he had many lovers amongst our young girls. "i, old lagisiva, who am now fat and dull, was one. oho, he was a man of plenty! did a girl but look out between her eyelashes at a piece of print in the store, lo! it was hers, even though it measured twenty fathoms in length--and print was a dollar a fathom in those days. so every girl--even those from parts far off--cast herself in his way, that he might notice her. and he was generous to all alike--in that alone was wisdom. * * * * * "once or twice every year the ships brought him letters. and he would count the marks on the paper, and tell us that they came from a woman of the papalagi--his cousin, as you would call her--whose picture was hung over his table. she was for ever smiling down upon us, and her eyes were his eyes, and if he but smiled then were the two alike--alike as are two children of the same birth. when three years had come and gone a ship brought him a letter, and that night there were many of us at his house, men and women, to talk with the people from the ship. when those had gone away to their sleep, he called to the chief, and said:-"'in two days, o my friend, i set out for my land again; but to return, for much do i desire to remain with you always. in six months i shall be here again. and there is one thing i would speak of. i shall bring back a white wife, a woman of my own country, whom i have loved for many years.' "then tamaali'i, the chief, who was my father's father, and very old, said, 'she shall be my daughter, and welcome,' and many of us young girls said also, 'she shall be welcome'--although we felt sorrowful to lose a lover so good and open-handed. and then did the foma'i call to the old chief and two others, and they entered the store and lighted lamps, and presently a man went forth into the village, and cried aloud: 'come hither, all people, and listen!' so, many hundreds came, and we all went in and found the floor covered with some of everything that the white man possessed. and the chief spoke and said: "'behold, my people, this our good friend goeth away to his own country that he may bring back a wife. and because many young unmarried girls will say, "why does he leave us? are not we as good to look upon as this other woman?" does he put these presents here on the ground and these words into my mouth--"out of his love to you, which must be a thing that is past and forgotten, the wife that is coming must not know of some little things--that is papalagi custom.'" "and then every girl that had a wish took whatever she fancied, and the white man charged us to say naught that would arouse the anger of the wife that was to come. and so he departed. * * * * * "one hundred and ten fat hogs killed we and roasted whole for the feast of welcome. i swear it by the holy ones of god's kingdom--one hundred and ten. and yet this white lily of his never smiled--not even on us young girls who danced and sang before her, only she clung to his arm, and, behold, when we drew close to her we saw it was the woman in the picture--his sister! "and then one by one all those that had gathered to do him honour went away in shame--shame that he should do this, wed his own sister, and many women said worse of her. but yet the feast--the hogs, and yams, and taro, and fish, and fowls--was brought and placed by his doorstep, but no one spake, and at night-time he was alone with his wife, till he sent for the old chief, and reproached him with bitter words for the coldness of the people, and asked: 'why is this?' * * * * * "and the old man pointed to the picture over the table, and said: 'is this she--thy wife?' "'ay,' said the white man. "'is she not of the same blood as thyself?' "'even so,' said he. "'then shalt thou live alone in thy shame,' said the old man; and he went away. "so, for many months, these two lived. he found some to work for him, and some young girls to tend his sister, whom he called his wife, whilst she lay ill with her first child. and the day after it was born, some one whispered: 'he is accursed! the child cries not--it is dumb.' for a week it lived, yet never did it cry, for the curse of wickedness was upon it. then the white man nursed her tenderly, and took her away to live in fiji for six months. when they came back it was the same--no one cared to go inside his house, and he cursed us, and said he would bring men from tokelau to work for him. we said naught. then in time another child was born, and it was hideous to look upon, and that also died. * * * * * "now, there was a girl amongst us whose name was suni, to whom the white woman spoke much, for she was learning our tongue, and suni, by reason of the white woman's many presents, spoke openly to her, and told her of the village talk. then the white woman wept, and arose and spoke to the man for a long while. and she came back to suni, and said: 'what thou hast told me was in my own heart three years ago; yet, because it is the custom of my people, i married this man, who is the son of my father's brother. but now i shall go away.' then the white man came out and beat suni with a stick. but yet was his sister, whom he called his wife, eaten up with shame, and when a ship came they went away, and we saw her not again. for about two years we heard no more of our white man, till he returned and said the woman was dead. and he took suni for wife, who bore him three children, and then they went away to some other country--i know not where. * * * * * "i thank thee many, many times, o friend of my sons. four children of mine here live in this village, yet not a one of them ever asketh me when i last smoked. may god walk with thee always for this stick of tobacco." the fate of the alida three years ago, in an australian paper, i read something that set me thinking of taplin--of taplin and his wife, and the fate of the alida. this is what i read:-"news has reached tahiti that a steamer had arrived at toulon with two noted prisoners on board. these men, who are brothers named rorique, long ago left tahiti on an island-trading trip, and when the vessel got to sea they murdered the captain, a passenger, the supercargo (mr gibson, of sydney), and two sailors, and threw their bodies overboard. the movers in the affair were arrested at ponape, in the caroline islands. the vessel belonged to a tahitian prince, and was called the nuroahiti, but its name had been changed after the tragedy. the accused persons were sent to manilla. from manilla they appear now to have been sent on to france." [note by the author.--the brothers rorique were sentenced to imprisonment for life at brest in 1895.] in the year 1872 we were lying inside funafuti lagoon, in the ellice group. the last cask of oil had been towed off to the brig and placed under hatches, and we were to sail in the morning for our usual cruise among the gilbert and kingsmill islands. our captain, a white trader from the shore, and myself, were sitting on deck "yarning" and smoking. we lay about a quarter of a mile from the beach--such a beach, white as the driven snow, and sweeping in a great curve for five long miles to the north and a lesser distance to the south and west. right abreast of the brig, nestling like huge birds' nests in the shade of groves of coconut and bread-fruit trees, were the houses of the principal village in funafuti. presently the skipper picked up his glasses that lay beside him on the skylight, and looked away down to leeward, where the white sails of a schooner beating up to the anchorage were outlined against the line of palms that fringed the beach of funafala--the westernmost island that forms one of the chain enclosing funafuti lagoon. "it's taplin's schooner, right enough," he said. "let us go ashore and give him and his pretty wife a hand to pack up." * * * * * taplin was the name of the only other white trader on funafuti besides old tom humphreys, our own man. he had been two years on the island, and was trading in opposition to our trader, as agent for a foreign house--our owners were sydney people--but his firm's unscrupulous method of doing business had disgusted him. so one day he told the supercargo of their vessel that he would trade for them no longer than the exact time he had agreed upon--two years. he had come to funafuti from the pelews, and was now awaiting the return of his firm's vessel to take him back there again. getting into our boat we were pulled ashore and landed on the beach in front of the trader's house. "well, taplin, here's your schooner at last," said old tom, as we shook hands and seated ourselves in the comfortable, pleasant-looking room. "i see you're getting ready to go." taplin was a man of about thirty or so, with a quiet, impassive face, and dark, deep-set eyes that gave to his features a somewhat gloomy look, except when he smiled, which was not often. men with that curious, far-off look in their eyes are not uncommon among the lonely islands of the wide pacific. sometimes it comes to a man with long, long years of wandering to and fro; and you will see it deepen when, by some idle, chance word, you move the memories of a forgotten past--ere he had even dreamed of the existence of the south sea islands and for ever dissevered himself from all links and associations of the outside world. * * * * * "yes," he answered, "i am nearly ready. i saw the schooner at daylight, and knew it was the alida." "where do you think of going to, taplin?" i asked. "back to the carolines. nerida belongs down that way, you know; and she is fretting to get back again--otherwise i wouldn't leave this island. i've done pretty well here, although the people i trade for are--well, you know what they are." "aye," assented old humphreys, "there isn't one of 'em but what is the two ends and bight of a--scoundrel; and that supercargo with the yaller moustache and womany hands is the worst of the lot. i wonder if he's aboard this trip? i don't let him inside my house; i've got too many daughters, and they all think him a fine man." * * * * * nerida, taplin's wife, came out to us from an inner room. she was a native of one of the pelew islands, a tall, slenderly-built girl, with pale, olive skin and big, soft eyes. a flowing gown of yellow muslin--the favourite colour of the portuguese-blooded natives of the pelews--buttoned high up to her throat, draped her graceful figure. after putting her little hand in ours, and greeting us in the funafuti dialect, she went over to taplin, and touching his arm, pointed out the schooner that was now only a mile or so away, and a smile parted her lips, and the star-like eyes glowed and filled with a tender light. i felt captain warren touch my arm as he rose and went outside. i followed. * * * * * "l----," said warren, "can't we do something for taplin ourselves? isn't there a station anywhere about tonga or wallis island that would suit him?" "would he come, warren? he--or, rather, that pretty wife of his--seems bent upon going away in the schooner to the carolines." "aye," said the skipper, "that's it. if it were any other vessel i wouldn't care." then suddenly: "that fellow motley (the supercargo) is a damned scoundrel--capable of any villainy where a woman is concerned. did you ever hear about old raymond's daughter down at mangareva?" i had heard the story very often. by means of a forged letter purporting to have been written by her father--an old english trader in the gambier group--motley had lured the beautiful young half-blood away from a school in san francisco, and six months afterwards turned her adrift on the streets of honolulu. raymond was a lonely man, and passionately attached to his only child; so no one wondered when, reaching california a year after and finding her gone, he shot himself in his room at an hotel. * * * * * "i will ask him, anyway," i said; and as we went back into the house the alida shot past our line of vision through the coco-palms, and brought up inside the brig. "taplin," i said, "would you care about taking one of our stations to the eastward? name any island you fancy, and we will land you there with the pick of our 'trade' room." "thank you. i would be only too glad, but i cannot. i have promised nerida to go back to babelthouap, or somewhere in the pelews, and motley has promised to land us at ponape, in the carolines. we can get away from there in one of the dutch firm's vessels." "i am very sorry, taplin----" i began, when old captain warren burst in with--"look here, taplin, we haven't got much time to talk. here's the alida's boat coming, with that (blank blank) scoundrel motley in it. take my advice. don't go away in the alida." and then he looked at nerida, and whispered something. a red spark shone in taplin's dark eyes, then he pressed warren's hand. "i know," he answered, "he's a most infernal villain--nerida hates him too. but you see how i am fixed. the alida is our only chance of getting back to the north-west. but he hasn't got old raymond to deal with in me. here they are." * * * * * motley came in first, hat and fan in hand. he was a fine-looking man, with blue eyes and an unusually fair skin for an island supercargo, with a long, drooping, yellow moustache. riedermann, the skipper, who followed, was stout, coarse, red-faced, and brutal. "how are you, gentlemen?" said motley affably, turning from taplin and his wife, and advancing towards us. "captain riedermann and i saw the spars of your brig showing up over the coconuts yesterday, and therefore knew we should have the pleasure of meeting you." warren looked steadily at him for a moment, and then glanced at his outstretched hand. "the pleasure isn't mutual, blarst you, mr motley," he said coldly, and he put his hand in his pocket. the supercargo took a step nearer to him with a savage glare in his blue eyes. "what do you mean by this, captain warren?" "mean?" and the imperturbable warren seated himself on a corner of the table, and gazed stolidly first at the handsome motley and then at the heavy, vicious features of riedermann. "oh, anything you like. perhaps it's because it's not pleasant to see white men landing at a quiet island like this with revolvers slung to their waists under their pyjamas; looks a bit too much like bully hayes' style for me," and then his tone of cool banter suddenly changed to that of studied insolence. "i say, motley, i was talking about you just now to taplin and nerida. do you want to know what i was saying? perhaps i had better tell you. i was talking about tita raymond--and yourself." * * * * * motley put his right hand under his pyjama jacket, but taplin sprang forward, seized his wrist in a grip of iron, and drew him aside. "the man who draws a pistol in my house, mr motley, does a foolish thing," he said, in quiet, contemptuous tones, as he threw the supercargo's revolver into a corner. with set teeth and clenched hands motley flung himself into a chair, unable to speak. warren, still seated on the table, swung his foot nonchalantly to and fro, and then began at riedermann. "why, how's this, captain riedermann? don't you back up your supercargo's little quarrels, or have you left your pistol on board? ah, no, you haven't. i can see it there right enough. modesty forbids you putting a bullet into a man in the presence of a lady, eh?" then slewing round again, he addressed motley: "by god! sir, it is well for you that we are in a white man's house, and that that man is my friend and took away that pistol from your treacherous hand. if you had fired at me i would have booted you from one end of funafuti beach to the other--and i've a damned good mind to do it now, but won't, as taplin has to do some business with you." "that will do, warren," i said. "we don't want to make a scene in taplin's house. let us go away and allow him to finish his business." still glaring angrily at riedermann and motley, warren got down slowly from the table. then we bade taplin and nerida good-bye and went aboard. at daylight we saw taplin and his wife go off in the alida's boat. they waved their hands to us in farewell as the boat pulled past the brig, and then the schooner hove-up anchor, and with all sail set, stood away down to the north-west passage of the lagoon. a year or so afterward we were on a trading voyage to the islands of the tubuai group, and were lying becalmed, in company with a new bedford whaler. her skipper came on board the brig, and we started talking of taplin, whom the whale-ship captain knew. "didn't you hear?" he said. "the alida never showed up again. 'turned turtle,' i suppose, somewhere in the islands, like all those slashing, over-masted, 'frisco-built schooners do, sooner or later." "poor taplin," said warren, "i thought somehow we would never see him again." * * * * * five years had passed. honest old warren, fiery-tempered and true-hearted, had long since died of fever in the solomons, and i was supercargo with a smart young american skipper in the brigantine palestine, when we one day sailed along the weather-side of a tiny little atoll in the caroline islands. the palestine was leaking, and packenham, tempted by the easy passage into the beautiful lagoon, decided to run inside and discharge our cargo of copra to get at the leak. the island had but very few inhabitants--perhaps ten or twelve men and double that number of women and children. no ship, they told us, had ever entered the lagoon but bully hayes' brig, and that was nine years before. there was nothing on the island to tempt a trading vessel, and even the sperm whalers, as they lumbered lazily past from strong's island to guam, would not bother to lower a boat and "dicker" for pearl-shell or turtle. at the time of hayes' visit the people were in sore straits, and on the brink of actual starvation, for although there were fish and turtle in plenty, they had not the strength to catch them. a few months before, a cyclone had destroyed nearly all the coconut trees, and an epidemic followed it, and carried off half the scanty population. * * * * * the jaunty sea-rover--than whom a kinder-hearted man to natives never sailed the south seas--took pity on the survivors, especially the youngest and prettiest girls, and gave them a passage in the famous leonora to another island where food was plentiful. there they remained for some years, till the inevitable mal du pays that is inborn to every polynesian and micronesian, became too strong to be resisted; and so one day a wandering sperm whaler brought them back again. but in their absence strangers had come to the island. as the people landed from the boats of the whale-ship, two brown men, a woman, and a child, came out of one of the houses, and gazed at them. then they fled to the farthest end of the island and hid. some weeks passed before the returned islanders found out the retreat of the strangers, who were armed with rifles, and called them to "come out and be friends." they did so, and by some subtle treachery the two men were killed during the night. the woman, who was young and handsome, was spared, and, from what we could learn, had been well treated ever since. "where did the strangers come from?" we asked. that they could not tell us. but the woman had since told them that the ship had anchored in the lagoon because she was leaking badly, and that the captain and crew were trying to stop the leak when she began to heel over, and they had barely time to save a few things when she sank. in a few days the captain and crew left the island in the boat, and, rather than face the dangers of a long voyage in such a small boat, the two natives and the woman elected to remain on the island. "that's a mighty fishy yarn," said packenham to me. "i daresay these fellows have been doing a little cutting-off business. but then i don't know of any missing vessel. we'll go ashore to-morrow and have a look round." a little after sunset the skipper and i were leaning over the rail, watching the figures of the natives, as they moved to and fro in the glare of the fires lighted here and there along the beach. "hallo!" said packenham, "here's a canoe coming, with only a woman in it. by thunder! she's travelling, too, and coming straight for the ship." a few minutes more and the canoe was alongside. the woman hastily picked up a little girl that was sitting in the bottom, looked up, and called out in english-"take my little girl, please." a native sailor leant over the bulwarks and lifted up the child, and the woman clambered after her. then, seizing the child from the sailor, she flew along the deck and into the cabin. she was standing facing us as we followed and entered, holding the child tightly to her bosom. the soft light of the cabin lamp fell full upon her features, and we saw that she was very young, and seemed wildly excited. "who are you?" we said, when she advanced, put out a trembling hand to us, and said: "don't you know me, mr supercargo? i am nerida, taplin's wife." then she sank on a seat and sobbed violently. * * * * * we waited till she regained her composure somewhat, and then i said: "nerida, where is taplin?" "dead," she said in a voice scarce above a whisper; "only us two are left--i and little teresa." packenham held out his hands to the child. with wondering, timid eyes, she came, and for a moment or two looked doubtingly upwards into the brown, handsome face of the skipper, and then nestled beside him. for a minute or so the ticking of the cabin clock broke the silence, ere i ventured to ask the one question uppermost in my mind. "nerida, how and where did taplin die?" "my husband was murdered at sea," she said and then she covered her face with her hands. "don't ask her any more now," said packenham pityingly; "let her tell us to-morrow." she raised her face. "yes, i will tell you to-morrow. you will take me away with you, will you not, gentlemen--for my child's sake?" "of course," said the captain promptly. and he stretched out his honest hand to her. * * * * * "she's a wonderfully pretty woman," said packenham, as we walked the poop later on, and he glanced down through the open skylight to where she and the child slept peacefully on the cushioned transoms. "how prettily she speaks english, too. do you think she was fond of her husband, or was it merely excitement that made her cry?--native women are as prone to be as hysterical as our own when under any violent emotion." "i can only tell you, packenham, that when i saw her last, five years ago, she was a graceful girl of eighteen, and as full of happiness as a bird is of song. she looks thirty now, and her face is thin and drawn--but i don't say all for love of taplin." "that will all wear off by and by," said the skipper confidently. "yes," i thought, "and she won't be a widow long." * * * * * next morning nerida had an hour or two among the prints and muslin in the trade-room, and there was something of the old beauty about her when she sat down to breakfast with us. we were to sail at noon. the leak had been stopped, and packenham was in high good-humour. "nerida," i inquired unthinkingly, "do you know what became of the alida? she never turned up again." "yes," she answered; "she is here, at the bottom of the lagoon. will you come and look at her?" after breakfast we lowered the dingy, the captain and i pulling. nerida steered us out to the north end of the lagoon till we reached a spot where the water suddenly deepened. it was, in fact, a deep pool, some three or four hundred feet in diameter, closed in by a continuous wall of coral rock, the top of which, even at low water, would be perhaps two or three fathoms under the surface. she held up her hands for us to back water, then she gazed over the side into the water. "look," she said, "there lies the alida." * * * * * we bent over the side of the boat. the waters of the lagoon were as smooth as glass and as clear. we saw two slender rounded columns that seemed to shoot up in a slanting direction from out the vague, blue depths beneath, to within four or five fathoms of the surface of the water. swarms of gorgeously-hued fish swam and circled in and about the masses of scarlet and golden weed that clothed the columns from their tops downward, and swayed gently to and fro as they glided in and out. a hawk-bill turtle, huge, black, and misshapen, slid out from beneath the dark ledge of the reef, and swam slowly across the pool, and then, between the masts, sank to the bottom. "'twas six years ago," said nerida, as we raised our heads. that night, as the palestine sped noiselessly before the trade wind to the westward she told me, in the old funafuti tongue, the tragedy of the alida. * * * * * "the schooner," she said, "sailed very quickly, for on the fifteenth day out from funafuti we saw the far-off peaks of strong's island. i was glad, for kusaie is not many days' sail from ponape--and i hated to be on the ship. the man with the blue eyes filled me with fear when he looked at me; and he and the captain and mate were for ever talking amongst themselves in whispers. "there were five native sailors on board--two were countrymen of mine, and three were tafitos [natives of the gilbert islands]. "one night we were close to a little island called mokil [duperrey's island], and taplin and i were awakened by a loud cry on deck; my two countrymen were calling on him to help them. he sprang on deck, pistol in hand, and, behold! the schooner was laid to the wind with the land close to, and the boat alongside, and the three white men were binding my country-men with ropes, because they would not get into the boat. "'help us, o friend!' they called to my husband in their own tongue; 'the white men say that if we go not ashore here at mokil they will kill us. help us--for they mean evil to thee and nerida. he with the yellow moustache wants her for his wife.' "there were quick, fierce words, and then my husband struck motley on the head with his pistol and felled him, and then pointed it at the mate and the captain, and made them untie the men, and called to the two tafito sailors who were in the boat to let her tow astern till morning. "his face was white with the rage that burned in him, and all that night he walked to and fro and let me sleep on the deck near him. "'to-morrow,' he said, 'i will make this captain land us on mokil;' it was for that he would not let the sailors come up from the boat. "at dawn i slept soundly. then i awoke with a cry of fear, for i heard a shot, and then a groan, and my husband fell across me, and the blood poured out of his mouth and ran down my arms and neck. i struggled to rise, and he tried to draw his pistol, but the man with yellow hair and blue eyes, who stood over him, stabbed him twice in the back. then the captain and mate seized him by the arms and lifted him up. as his head fell back i saw there was blood streaming from a hole in his chest." she ceased, and leant her cheek against the face of the little girl, who looked in childish wonder at the tears that streamed down her mother's face. * * * * * "they cast him over into the sea with life yet in him, and ere he sank, motley (that devil with the blue eyes) stood with one foot on the rail and fired another shot, and laughed when he saw the bullet strike. then he and the other two talked. "'let us finish these pelew men, ere mischief come of it,' said riedermann, the captain. "but the others dissuaded him. there was time enough, they said, to kill them. and if they killed them now, there would be but three sailors to work the ship. and motley looked at me and laughed, and said he, for one, would do no sailor's work yet awhile. "then they all trooped below, and took me with them--me, with my husband's blood not yet dried on my hands and bosom. they made me get liquor for them to drink, and they drank and laughed, and motley put his bloodied hand around my waist and kissed me, and the others laughed still more. "in a little while riedermann and the mate were so drunken that no words came from them, and they fell on the cabin floor. then motley, who could stand, but staggered as he walked, came and sat beside me and kissed me again, and said he had always loved me; but i pointed to the blood of my husband that stained my skin and clotted my hair together, and besought him to first let me wash it away. "'wash it there,' he said, and pointed to his cabin. "'nay,' said i, 'see my hair. let me then go on deck, and i can pour water over my head.' "but he held my hand tightly as we came up, and my heart died within me; for it was in my mind to spring overboard and follow my husband. "he called to one of the tafito men to bring water, but none came; for they, too, were drunken with liquor they had stolen from the hold, where there was plenty in red cases and white cases--gin and brandy. "but my two countrymen were sober; one of them steered the ship, and the other stood beside him with an axe in his hand, for they feared the tafito men, who are devils when they drink grog. "'get some water,' said motley, to juan--he who held the axe; and as he brought it, he said, 'how is it, tattooed dog, that thou art so slow to move?' and he struck him in the teeth, and as he struck he fell. "ah! that was my time! ere he could rise i sprang at him, and juan raised the axe and struck off his right foot; and then liro, the man who steered, handed me his knife. it was a sharp knife, and i stabbed him, even as he had stabbed my husband, till my arm was tired, and all my hate of him had died away in my heart. * * * * * "there was quick work then. my two countrymen went below into the cabin and took motley's pistol from the table; ... then i heard two shots. "guk! he was a fat, heavy man, that riedermann, the captain; the three of us could scarce drag him up on deck and cast him over the side, with the other two. "then juan and liro talked, and said: 'now for these tafito men; they, too, must die.' they brought up rifles, and went to the forepart of the schooner, where the tafito men lay in a drunken sleep, and shot them dead. "in two more days we saw land--the island we have left but now, and because that there were no people living there--only empty houses could we see--juan and liro sailed the schooner into the lagoon. "we took such things on shore as we needed, and then juan and liro cut away the topmasts and towed the schooner to the deep pool, where they made holes in her, so that she sank, away out of the sight of men. * * * * * "juan and liro were kind to me, and when my child was born, five months after we landed, they cared for me tenderly, so that i soon became strong and well. "only two ships did we ever see, but they passed far-off like clouds upon the sea-rim; and we thought to live and die there by ourselves. then there came a ship, bringing back the people who had once lived there. they killed juan and liro, but let me and the child live. the rest i have told you.... how is this captain named? ... he is a handsome man, and i like him." * * * * * we landed nerida at yap, in the western carolines. a year afterwards, when i left the palestine, i heard that packenham had given up the sea, was trading in the pelew group, and was permanently married, and that his wife was the only survivor of the ill-fated alida. the chilean bluejacket a tale of easter island alone, in the most solitary part of the eastern pacific, midway between the earthquake-shaken littoral of chili and peru, and the thousand palm-clad islets of the low archipelago, lies an island of the days "when the world was young." by the lithe-limbed, soft-eyed descendants of the forgotten and mysterious race that once quickened the land, this lonely outlier of the isles of the southern seas is called in their soft tongue rapanui, or the great rapa. * * * * * a hundred and seventy years ago roggewein, on the dawn of an easter sunday, discerned through the misty, tropic haze the grey outlines of an island under his lee beam, and sailed down upon it. he landed, and even as the grim and hardy old navigator gazed upon and wondered at the mysteries of the strange island, so this day do the cunning men of science, who, perhaps once in thirty years, go thither in the vain effort to read the secret of an all-but-perished race. and they can tell us but vaguely that the stupendous existing evidences of past glories are of immense and untold age, and show their designers to have been coeval with the builders of the buried cities of mexico and peru; beyond that, they can tell us nothing. who can solve the problem? what manner of an island king was he who ruled the builders of the great terraced platforms of stone, the carvers of the huge blocks of lava, the hewers-out with rudest tools of the sphinx-like images of trachyte, whose square, massive, and disdainful faces have for unnumbered centuries gazed upwards and outwards over the rolling, sailless swell of the mid-pacific? * * * * * and the people of rapa-nui of to-day? you may ask. search the whole pacific--from pylstaart, the southern sentinel of the friendlies, to the one-time buccaneer-haunted, far-away pelews; thence eastward through the white-beached coral atolls of the carolines and marshalls, and southwards to the cloud-capped marquesas and the sandy stretches of the paumotu--and you will find no handsomer men or more graceful women than the light-skinned people of rapa-nui. * * * * * yet are they but the survivors of a race doomed--doomed from the day that roggewein in his clumsy, high-pooped frigate first saw their land, and marvelled at the imperishable relics of a dead greatness. with smiling faces they welcomed him--a stranger from an unknown, outside world, with cutlass at waist and pistol in hand--as a god; he left them a legacy of civilisation--a hideous and cruel disease that swept through the amiable and unsuspicious race as an epidemic, and slew its thousands, and scaled with the hand of death and silence the eager life that had then filled the square houses of lava in many a town from the wave-beaten cliffs of terano kau to ounipu in the west. * * * * * ask of the people now, "whence came ye? and whose were the hands that fashioned these mighty images and carved upon these stones?" and in their simple manner they will answer, "from rapa, under the setting sun, came our fathers; and we were then a great people, even as the oneone [sand] of the beach.... our great king was it, he whose name is forgotten by us, that caused these temples and cemeteries and terraces to be built; and it was in his time that the forgotten fathers of our fathers carved from out of the stone of the quarries of terano kau the great silent faces that gaze for ever upward to the sky.... ai-a-ah! ... but it was long ago.... ah! a great people were we then in those days, and the wild people to the west called us te tagata te pito henua (the people who live at the end of the world) .... and we know no more." and here the knowledge and traditions of a broken people begin and end. * * * * * i a soft, cool morning in november, 187-. between ducie and pitcairn islands two american whale-ships cruise lazily along to the gentle breath of the south-east trades, when the look-out from both vessels see a third sail bearing down upon them. in a few hours she is close enough to be recognised as one of the luckiest sperm whalers of the fleet--the brig pocahontas, of martha's vineyard. within a quarter of mile of the two ships--the nassau and the dagget--the newcomer backs her foreyard and hauls up her mainsail. a cheer rises from the ships. she wants to "gam," i.e. to gossip. with eager hands four boats are lowered from the two ships, and the captains and second mates of each are soon racing for the pocahontas. * * * * * the skipper of the brig, after shaking hands with his visitors and making the usual inquiries as to their luck, number of days out from new bedford, etc., led the way to his cabin, and, calling his portuguese steward, had liquor and a box of cigars brought out. the captain of the pocahontas was a little, withered-up old man with sharp, deep-set eyes of brightest blue, and had the reputation of possessing the most fiery and excitable temper of any of the captains of the sixty or seventy american whale-ships that in those days cruised the pacific from the west coast of south america to gaum in the ladrones. after drinking some of his potent new england rum with his visitors, and having answered all their queries, the master of the pocahontas inquired if they had seen anything of a chilian man-of-war further to the eastward. no, they had not. * * * * * "then just settle down, gentlemen, for awhile, and i'll tell you one of the curiousest things that i ever saw or heard of. i've logged partiklars of the whole business, and when i get to oahu (honolulu) i mean to nar-rate just all i do know to father damon of the honolulu friend. thar's nothing like a newspaper fur showin' a man up when he's been up to any onnatural villainy, and thinks no one will ever know anything about it. so just take hold and listen." the two captains nodded, and he told them this. * * * * * ten days previously, when close in to barren and isolated sala-y-gomez, the pocahontas had spoken the chilian corvette o'higgins, bound from easter island to valparaiso. the captain of the corvette entertained the american master courteously, and explained his ship's presence so far to the eastward, by stating that the government had instructed him to call at easter island, and pick up an englishman in the chilian service, who had been sent there to examine and report on the colossal statues and mysterious terraces of that lonely island. the englishman, as commander gallegos said, was a valued servant of the republic, and had for some years served in its navy as a surgeon on board el almirante cochrane, the flag-ship. he had left valparaiso in the whale-ship comboy with the intention of remaining three months on the island. at the end of that time a war vessel was to call and convey him back to chili. but in less than two months the republic was in the throes of a deadly struggle with peru--here the commander of the o'higgins bowed to the american captain, and, pointing to a huge scar that traversed his bronzed face from temple to chin, said, "in which i had the honour to receive this, and promotion"--and nearly two years had elapsed ere the government had time to think again of the english scientist and his mission. peace restored, the o'higgins was ordered to proceed to the island and bring him back; and as the character of the natives was not well known, and it was feared he might have been killed, commander gallegos was instructed to execute summary justice upon the people of the island, if such was the case. but, the chilian officer said, on reaching the island he had found the natives to be very peaceable and inoffensive, and, although much alarmed at the appearance of his armed landing party from the corvette, they had given him a letter from the englishman, and had satisfied him that dr francis ---had remained with them for some twelve months only, and had then left the island in a passing whale-ship, and commander gallegos, making them suitable presents, bade them good-bye, and steamed away to valparaiso. * * * * * this was all the polite little commander had to say, and, after a farewell glass of wine, his visitor rose to go, when the captain of the corvette casually inquired if the pocahontas was likely to call at the island. "i ask you," he said in his perfect english, "because one of my ship's company deserted there. you, senor, may possibly meet with him there. yet he is of no value, and he is no sailor, and but a lad. he was very ill most of the time, and this was his first voyage. i took him ashore with me in my boat, as he besought me eagerly to do so, and the little devil ran away and hid, or was hidden by the natives." "why didn't you get him back?" asked the captain of the pocahontas. "that was easy enough, but"--and the commander raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders--"of what use? he was no use to the corvette. better for him to stay there, and perhaps recover, than to die on board the o'higgins and be thrown to the blue sharks. possibly, senor, you may find him well, and it may suit you to take him to your good ship, and teach him the business of catching the whale. my trade is to show my crew how to fight, and such as he are of no value for that." then the two captains bade each other farewell, and in another hour the redoubtable o'higgins, with a black trail of smoke streaming astern, was ten miles away on her course to valparaiso. a week after the pocahontas lay becalmed close in to the lee side of rapa-nui, and within sight of the houses of the principal village. the captain, always ready to get a "green" hand, was thinking of the chances of his securing the chilian deserter, and decided to lower a boat and try. taking four men with him, he pulled ashore, and landed at the village of hagaroa. * * * * * ii some sixty or seventy natives clustered round the boat as she touched the shore. with smiling faces and outstretched hands they surrounded the captain, and pressed upon him their simple gifts of ripe bananas and fish baked in leaves, begging him to first eat a little and then walk with them to mataveri, their largest village, distant a mile, where preparations were being made to welcome him formally. the skipper, nothing loth, bade his crew not to go too far away in their rambles, and, accompanied by his boatsteerer, was about to set off with the natives, when he remembered the object of his visit, and asked a big, well-made woman, the only native present that could speak english, "where is the man you hid from the man-of-war?" * * * * * there was a dead silence, and for nearly half a minute no one spoke. the keen blue eyes of the american looked from one face to another inquiringly, and then settled on the fat, good-natured features of varua, the big woman. holding her hands, palms upwards, to the captain, she endeavoured to speak, and then, to his astonishment, he saw that her dark eyes were filled with tears. and then, as if moved with some sudden and sorrowful emotion, a number of other women and young girls, murmuring softly in pitying tones, "e mate! e mate!" ["dead! dead!"] came to his side, and held their hands out to him with the same supplicating gesture. the captain was puzzled. for all his island wanderings and cruises he had no knowledge of any polynesian dialect, and the tearful muteness of the fat varua was still unbroken. at last she placed one hand on his sleeve, and, pointing land-ward with the other, said, in her gentle voice, "come," and taking his hand in hers, she led the way, the rest of the people following in silence. for about half a mile they walked behind the captain and his boatsteerer and the woman varua without uttering a word. presently varua stopped, and called out the name of "taku" in a low voice. a fine, handsome native, partly clothed in european sailor's dress, stepped apart from the others and came to her. turning to the captain, she said, "this is taku the sailor. he can speak a little english and much spanish. i tell him now to come with us, for he has a paper." although not understanding the relevancy of her remark, the captain nodded, and then with gentle insistence varua and the other women urged him on, and they again set out. * * * * * a few minutes more, and they were at the foot of one of the massive-stoned and ancient papaku, or cemeteries, on the walls of which were a number of huge images carved from trachyte, and representing the trunk of the human body. some of the figures bore on their heads crowns of red tufa, and the aspect of all was towards the ocean. at the foot of the wall of the papaku were a number of prone figures, with hands and arms sculptured in low relief, the outspread fingers clasping the hips. about a cable length from the wall stood two stone houses--memorials of the olden time--and it was to these that varua and the two white men, attended now by women only, directed their steps. * * * * * the strange, unearthly stillness of the place, the low whispers of the women, the array of colossal figures with sphinx-like faces set to the sea, and the unutterable air of sadness that enwrapped the whole scene, overawed even the unimaginative mind of the rough whaling captain, and he experienced a curious feeling of relief when his gentle-voiced guide entered through the open doorway the largest of the two houses, and, in a whisper, bade him follow. * * * * * a delightful sense of coolness was his first sensation on entering, and then with noiseless step the other women followed and seated themselves on the ground. still clasping his hand, varua led him to the farther end of the house, and pointed to a motionless figure that lay on a couch of mats, covered with a large piece of navy-blue calico. at each side of the couch sat a young native girl, and their dark, luminous eyes, shining star-like from out the wealth of black, glossy hair that fell upon their bronzed shoulders, turned wonderingly upon the stranger who had broken in upon their watch. * * * * * motioning the girls aside, varua released her hold of the white man's hand and drew the cloth from off the figure, and the seaman's pitying glance fell upon the pale, sweet features of a young white girl. but for the unmistakable pallid hue of death he thought at first that she slept. in the thin, delicate hands, crossed upon her bosom, there was placed, after the manner of those of her faith, a small metal crucifix. her hair, silky and jet black, was short like a man's, and the exquisitely-modelled features, which even the coldness of death had not robbed of their beauty, showed the spanish blood that, but a few hours before, had coursed through her veins. slowly the old seaman drew the covering over the still features, and, with an unusual emotion stirring his rude nature, he rose, and, followed by varua, walked outside and sat upon a broken pillar of lava that lay under the wall of the papaku. * * * * * calling his boatsteerer, he ordered him to return to the beach and go off to the ship with instructions to the mate to have a coffin made as quickly as possible and send it ashore; and then, at a glance from varua, who smiled a grave approval as she listened to his orders, he followed her and the man she called taku into the smaller of the two houses. round about the inside walls of this ancient dwelling of a forgotten race were placed a number of seamen's chests made of cedar and camphor wood--the lares and penates of most polynesian houses. the gravelled floor was covered with prettily-ornamented mats of fala (the screw-palm). seating herself, with taku the sailor, on the mats, varua motioned the captain to one of the boxes, and then told him a tale that moved him--rough, fierce, and tyrannical as was his nature--to the deepest pity. * * * * * iii "it is not yet twenty days since the fighting pahi afi (steamer) came here, and we of mataveri saw the boat full of armed men land on the beach at hagaroa. filled with fear were we; but yet as we had done no wrong we stood on the beach to welcome. and, ere the armed men had left the boat, we knew them to be the sipaniola from chili--the same as those that came here ten years ago in three ships, and seized and bound three hundred and six of our men, and carried them away for slaves to the land of the tae manu, and of whom none but four ever returned to rapa-nui. and then we trembled again." (she spoke of the cruel outrage of 1862, when three peruvian slave-ships took away over three hundred islanders to perish on the guano-fields of the chincha islands). "the chief of the ship was a little man, and he called out to us in the tongue of chili, 'have no fear,' and took a little gun from out its case of skin that hung by his side, and giving it to a man in the boat, stepped over to us, and took our hands in his. "'is there none among ye that speak my tongue?' he said quickly. "now, this man here, taku the sailor, speaketh the tongue of chili, but he feared to tell it, lest they might take him away for a sailor; so he held his lips tight. "then i, who for six years dwelt with english people at tahiti, was pushed forward by those behind me and made to talk in english; and lo! the little man spoke in your tongue even as quick as he did in that of chili. and then he told us that he came for farani [frank]. * * * * * "now this farani was a young white man of peretania (england), big and strong. he came to us a year and a half ago. he was rich, and had with him chests filled with presents for us of rapa-nui; and he told us that he came to live a while among us, and look upon the houses of stone and the faces of the silent that gaze out upon the sea. for a year he dwelt with us and became as one of ourselves, and we loved him; and then, because no ship came, he began to weary and be sad. at last a ship--like thine, one that hunts for the whale--came, and farani called us together, and placed a letter in the hands of the chief at mataveri, and said: 'if it so be that a ship cometh from chili, give these my words to the captain, and all will be well.' then he bade us farewell and was gone. * * * * * "all this i said in quick words, and then we gave to the little fighting chief the letter farani had written. when he had counted the words in the letter, he said: 'bueno, it is well,' and called to his men, and they brought out many gifts for us from the boat--cloth, and garments for men and women, and two great bags of canvas filled with tobacco. ai-a-ah! many presents he gave us--this because of the good words farani had set down in the letter. then the little chief said to me, 'let these my men walk where they list, and i will go with thee to mataveri and talk with the chief.' "so the sailors came out of the boats carrying their guns and swords in their hands, but the little chief, whose avagutu (moustache) stuck out on each side of his face like the wings of a flying-fish when it leaps in terror from the mouth of the hungry bonito, spoke angrily, and they laid their guns and swords back in the boats. "so the sailors went hither and thither with our young men and girls; and, although at that time i knew it not, she, who now is not, was one of them, and walked alone. "then i, and taku the sailor, and the little sea-chief came to the houses of mataveri, and he stayed awhile and spoke good words to us. and we, although we fear the men of chili for the wrong they once did us, were yet glad to listen, for we also are of their faith. * * * * * "as we talked, there came inside the house a young girl named temeteri, whom, when farani had been with us for two months, he had taken for wife; and she bore him a son. but from the day that he had sailed away she became sick with grief; and when, after many months, she told me that farani had said he would return to her, my heart was heavy, for i know the ways of white men with us women of brown skins. yet i feared to tell her he lied and would return no more. now, this girl temeteri was sought after by a man named huarani, the son of heremai, who desired to marry her now that farani had gone, and he urged her to question the chief of the fighting ship, and ask him if farani would return. * * * * * "so i spoke of temeteri. he laughed and shook his head, and said: 'nay, farani the englishman will return no more; but yet one so beautiful as she,' and he pointed to temeteri, 'should have many lovers and know no grief. let her marry again and forget him, and this is my marriage gift to her,' and he threw a big golden coin upon the mat on which the girl sat. "she took it in her hand and threw it far out through the doorway with bitter words, and rose and went away to her child. "then the little captain went back to the boat and called his men to him, and lo! one was gone. ah! he was angry, and a great scar that ran down one side of his face grew red with rage. but soon he laughed, and said to us: 'see, there be one of my people hidden away from me. yet he is but a boy, and sick; and i care not to stay and search for him. let him be thy care so that he wanders not away and perishes among the broken lava; he will be in good hands among the people of rapa-nui.' with that he bade us farewell, and in but a little time the great fighting ship had gone away towards the rising sun. * * * * * "all that day and the next we searched, but found not him who had hidden away; but in the night of the second day, when it rained heavily, and taku (who is my brother's son) and i and my two children worked at the making of a kupega (net), he whom we had sought came to the door. and as we looked our hearts were filled with pity, for, as he put out his hands to us, he staggered and fell to the ground. "so taku--who is a man of a good heart--and i lifted him up and carried him to a bed of soft mats, and as i placed my hand on his bosom to see if he was dead, lo! it was soft as a woman's, and i saw that the stranger was a young girl! "i took from her the wet garments and brought warm clothes of mamoe (blankets), and taku made a great fire, and we rubbed her cold body and her hands and feet till her life came back to her again, and she sat up and ate a little beaten-up taro. when the night and the dawn touched she slept again. * * * * * "the sun was high when the white girl awoke, and fear leapt into her eyes when she saw the house filled with people who came to question taku and me about the stranger. with them came the girl temeteri, whose head was still filled with foolish thoughts of farani, her white lover. "i went to the strange girl, put my arm around her, and spoke, but though she smiled and answered in a little voice, i understood her not, for i know none of the tongue of chili. but yet she leaned her head against my bosom, and her eyes that were as big and bright as fetuaho, the star of the morning, looked up into mine and smiled through their tears. * * * * * "there was a creat buzzing of talk among the women. some came to her and touched her hands and forehead, and said: 'let thy trembling cease; we of rapa-nui will be kind to the white girl.' "and as the people thronged about her and talked, she shook her head and her eyes sought mine, and hot tears splashed upon my hand. then the mother of temeteri raised her voice and called to taku the sailor, and said: 'o taku, thou who knowest her tongue, ask her of farani, my white son, the husband of my daughter.' * * * * * "the young girls in the house laughed scornfully at old pohere, for some of them had loved farani, who yet had put them all aside for temeteri, whose beauty exceeded theirs; and so they hated her and laughed at her mother. then taku, being pressed by old pohere, spoke in the tongue of chili, but not of temeteri. "ah! she sprang to her feet and talked then! and the flying words chased one another from her lips; and these things told she to taku:-she had hidden among the broken lava and watched the little captain come back to the boat and bid us farewell. then when night came she had crept out and gone far over to the great papaku, and lay down to hide again, for she feared the fighting ship might return to seek her. and all that day she lay hidden in the lava till night fell upon her again, and hunger drove her to seek the faces of men. in the rain she all but perished, till god brought her feet to this, my house. "then said taku the sailor: 'why didst thou flee from the ship?' "the white girl put her hands to her face and wept, and said: 'bring me my jacket.' "i gave to her the blue sailor's jacket, and from inside of it she took a little flat thing and placed it in her bosom. * * * * * "again said old pohere to taku: 'o man of slow tongue, ask her of farani.' so he asked in this wise: "'see, o white girl, that is pohere, the mother of temeteri, who bore a son to the white man that came here to look upon the silent faces; and because he came from thy land, and because of the heart of temeteri, which is dried up for love of him, does this foolish old woman ask thee if thou hast seen him; for long months ago he left rapa-nui. in our tongue we call him farani.' * * * * * "the girl looked at taku the sailor, and her lips moved, but no words came. then from her bosom she took the little flat thing and held it to him, but sickness was in her hand so that it trembled, and that which she held fell to the ground. so taku stooped and picked it up from where it lay on the mat, and looked, and his eyes blazed, and he shouted out 'aue!' for it was the face of farani that looked into his! and as he held it up in his hand to the people, they, too, shouted in wonder; and then the girl temeteri cast aside those that stood about her, and tore it from his hand and fled. "'who is she?' said the white girl, in a weak voice to taku; 'and why hath she robbed me of that which is dear to me?' and taku was ashamed, and turned his face away from her because of two things--his heart was sore for temeteri, who is a blood relation, and was shamed because her white lover had deserted her; and he was full of pity for the white girl's tears. so he said nought. "the girl raised herself, and her hand caught taku by the arm, and these were her words: 'o man, for the love of jesu christ, tell me what was this woman temeteri to my husband?' "now taku the sailor was sore troubled, and felt it hard to hurt her heart, yet he said: 'was farani, the englishman, thy husband?' "she wept again, 'he was my husband.' "'why left he one as fair as thee?' said taku, in wonder. "she shook her head. 'i know not, except he loved to look upon strange lands; yet he loved me.' "'he is a bad man,' said taku. 'he loved others as well as thee. the girl that fled but now with his picture was wife to him here. he loved her, and she bore him a son.' "the girl's head fell on my shoulder, and her eyes closed, and she became as dead; and lo! in a little while, as she strove to speak, blood poured from her mouth and ran down over her bosom. "'it is the hand of death,' said taku the sailor. * * * * * "where she now lies, there died she, at about the hour when the people of vaihou saw the sails of thy ship. "we have no priest here, for the good father that was here three years ago is now silent [i.e. dead]; yet did taku and i pray with her. and ere she died she said she would set down some words on paper; so alrema, my little daughter, hastened to mataveri, and the chief sent back some paper and vai tuhi (ink) that had belonged to the good priest. so with weak hand she set down some words, but even as she wrote she rose up and threw out her hands, and called out: 'francisco! francisco!' and fell back, and was dead." * * * * * iv the captain of the pocahontas dashed the now fast-falling tears from his eyes, and with his rough old heart swelling with pity for the poor wanderer, took from taku the sheet of paper on which the heart-broken girl's last words were traced. ere he could read it a low murmur of voices outside told him his crew had returned. they carried a rude wooden shell, and then with bared heads the captain and boatsteerer entered the house where she lay. again the old man raised the piece of navy blue cloth from off the sweet, sad face, and a heavy tear dropped down upon her forehead. then, aided by the gentle, sympathetic women, his task was soon finished, and two of his crew entered and carried their burden to its grave. service there was none--only the prayers and tears of the brown women of rapa-nui. * * * * * ere he said farewell the captain of the whale-ship placed money in the hands of varua and taku. they drew back, hurt and mortified. seeing his mistake, the seaman desired varua to give the money to the girl temeteri. "nay, sir," said varua, "she would but give me bitter words. even when she who is now silent was not yet cold, temeteri came to the door of the house where she lay and spat twice on the ground, and taking up gravel in her hand cast it at her, and cursed her in the name of our old heathen gods. and as for money, we here in rapa-nui need it not. may christ protect thee on the sea. farewell!" * * * * * the captain of the pocahontas rose and came to the cabin table, and motioning to his guests to fill their glasses, said-"'tis a real sad story, gentlemen, and if i should ever run across doctor francis, i should talk some to him. but see here. here is my log; my mate, who is a fancy writist, wrote it at my dictation. i can't show you the letter that the pore creature herself wrote; that i ain't going to show to any one." the two captains rose and stood beside him, and read the entry in the log of the pocahontas. "november 28, 187-. this day i landed at easter island, to try and obtain as a 'green' hand a young chilian seaman who, the captain of the chilian corvette o'higgins informed me, had run away there. on landing i was shown the body of a young girl, whom the natives stated to be the deserter. she had died that morning. buried her as decently as circumstances would permit. from a letter she wrote on the morning of her death i learned her name to be senora teresa t----. her husband, dr francis t----, was an englishman in the service of the chilian republic. he was sent out on a scientific mission to the island, and his wife followed him in the o'higgins disguised as a blue-jacket. i should take her to have been about nineteen years of age. "spence eldridge, master. "manual legaspe, 2nd officer. "brig pocahontas, of martha's vineyard, u.s.a." "well, that's curious now," said the skipper of the nassau; "why, i knew that man. he left the island in the king darius, of new bedford, and landed at ponape in the caroline group, whar those underground ruins are at metalanien harbour. guess he wanted to potter around there a bit. but he got inter some sorter trouble among the natives there, an' he got shot." "aye," said the captain of the dagget, "i remember the affair. i was mate of the josephine, and we were lying at jakoits harbour when he was killed, and now i remember the name too. waal, he wasn't much account, anyhow." * * * * * ten years ago a wandering white man stood, with taku the sailor, at the base of the wall of the great papaku, and the native pointed out the last resting-place of the wanderer. there, under the shadow of the silent faces of stone, the brave and loving heart that dared so much is at peace for ever. brantley of vahitahi one day a trading vessel lay becalmed off tatakoto, in the paumotu archipelago, and the captain and supercargo, taking a couple of native sailors with them, went ashore at dawn to catch some turtle. the turtle were plentiful and easily caught, and after half a dozen had been put in the boat, the two white men strolled along the white hard beach. the captain--old, grizzled, and grim--seemed to know the place well, and led the way. * * * * * the island is very narrow, and as they left the beach and gained the shade of the forest of coconuts that grew to the margin of high-water mark, they could see, between the tall, stately palms, the placid waters of the lagoon, and a mile or so across, the inner beach of the weather side of the island. for a quarter of a mile or so the two men walked on till the widest part of the island was reached. here, under the shadow of some giant puka trees, the old skipper stopped and sat down on a roughly hewn slab of coral, the remains of one of those marae or heathen temples that are to be found almost anywhere in the islands of eastern polynesia. "i knew this place well, once," he said, as he pulled out his pipe. "i used to come here when i was sailing one of brander's vessels out of tahiti. as we have done now we did then--came here for turtle. no natives have lived here for the past forty years. did you ever hear of brantley?" "yes," answered the supercargo, "but he died long ago, did he not?" "aye, he died here, and his wife and sister too. they all lie here in this old marae." and then he told the story of brantley. * * * * * i it was six years since brantley, with his companions in misery, had drifted ashore at lonely vahitahi in the paumotu group, and the kindly-hearted people had gazed with pitying horror upon the dreadful beings that, muttering and gibbering to each other, lay in the bottom of the boat, and pointed with long talon-like fingers to their burnt and bloody thirst-tortured lips. * * * * * and now as he sits in the doorway of his thatched house, and gazes dreamily out upon the long curve of creamy beach and wind-swayed line of palms that fringe the leeward side of his island home, brantley passes a brown hand slowly up and down his sun-bronzed cheek, and thinks of the past. he was so full of life--of the very joy of living--that time six years ago when he sailed from auckland on that fateful voyage in the doris. it was his first voyage as captain, and the ship was his own, and even now he remembers with a curious time-dulled pang the last words of his only sister--the doris after whom he had called his new ship--as she had kissed him farewell--"i am so glad, fred, to hear them call you 'captain brantley.'" and the voyage--the wild feverish desire to make a record passage to 'frisco and back; the earnest words of poor old white-headed lutton, the mate, "not to carry on so at night going through the paumotu group"; that awful midnight crash when the doris ran hopelessly into the wild boil of roaring surf on tuanake reef; the white, despairing faces of five of his men, who, with curses in their eyes upon his folly, were swept out of sight into the awful blackness of the night. and then the days in the boat with the six survivors! ah! the memory of that will chill his blood to his dying day. men have had to do that which he and the two who came through alive with him had done. how long they endured that black agony of suffering he knew not. by common consent none of them ever spoke of it again. three months after they had drifted ashore, a passing sperm whaler, cruising through the group, took away the two seamen, and then brantley, after bidding them a silent farewell, had, with bitter despair gnawing at his heart, turned his face away from the ship, and walked back into the palm-shaded village. * * * * * "i will never go back again," he had said to himself. and perhaps he was right; for when the doris went to pieces on tuanake his hope and fortunes went with her, and, save for that other doris, there was no one in the world who cared for him. he was not the man to face the world again with: "why, he lost his first ship!" whispered among his acquaintances. and this is how brantley--young, handsome, and as smart a seaman (save for that one fatal mistake) as ever trod a deck--became paranili the papalagi, and was living out his life among the people of solitary vahitahi. * * * * * ere a year had passed a trading captain bound to the gambier islands had given him a small stock of trade goods, and the thought of doris had been his salvation. only for her he would have sunk to the life of a mere idle, gin-drinking, and dissolute beach-comber. as it was, his steady, straightforward life among the people of the island was a big factor to his business success. and so every year he sent money to doris by some passing whaler or tahitian trading schooner, but twice only had he got letters from her; and each time she had said: "let me come to you, fred. we are alone in the world, and may never meet again else. sometimes i awake in the night with a sudden fear. let me come; my heart is breaking with the loneliness of my life here, so far away from you." * * * * * but two years ago he had done that which would keep doris from ever coming to him, he thought. he had married a young native girl--that is, taken her to wife in the paumotuan fashion--and surely doris, with her old-fashioned notions of right and wrong, would grieve bitterly if she knew it. presently he rose, talking to himself as is the wont of those who have lived long apart from all white associations, and sauntered up and down the shady path at the side of his dwelling, thinking of doris, and if he would ever see her again. then he entered the house. * * * * * seated on the matted floor with her face turned from him was a young native girl--luita, his wife. she was making a hat from the bleached strands of the pandanus leaf, and as she worked she sang softly to herself in the semi-tahitian tongue of her people. brantley, lazily stretching himself out on a rough mat-covered couch, turned towards her, and watched the slender, supple fingers--covered, in polynesian fashion, with heavy gold rings--as they deftly drew out the snow-white strands of the pandanus. the long, glossy, black waves of hair that fell over her bare back and bosom like a mantle of night hid her face from his view, and the man let his glance rest in contented admiration upon the graceful curves of the youthful figure; then he sighed softly, and again his eyes turned to the wide, sailless expanse of the pacific, that lay shimmering and sparkling before him under a cloudless sky of blue, and he thought again of doris. * * * * * steadily the little hands worked in and out among the snowy strands, and now and then, as she came to the tari, or refrain, of the old paumotuan love-song, her soft liquid tones would blend with the quavering treble of children that played outside. "terunavahori, teeth of pearl, knit the sandals for talaloo's feet, sandals of afa thick and strong, bind them well with thy long black hair." suddenly the song ceased, and with a quick movement of her shoulders she threw back the cloud of hair that fell around her arms and bosom, looked up at brantley and laughed, and, striking the mat on which she sat with her open palm, said-"haere mai, paranili." he rose from the couch and stooped beside her, with his hands resting on his knees, and bending his brow in mock criticism, regarded her handiwork intently. springing to her feet, hat in hand, and placing her two hands on his now erect shoulders, she looked into his face--darker far than her own--and said with a smile-"behold, paranili, thy pulou is finished, save for a band of black pu'ava which thou shalt give me from the store." "mine?" said brantley, in pretended ignorance. "why labour so for me? are there not hats in plenty on vahitahi?" "true, o thankless one! but the women of the village say that thou lookest upon me as a fool because i can neither make mats nor do many other things such as becometh a wife. and for this did merani, my cousin, teach me how to make a wide hat of fala to shield thy face from the sun when thou art out upon the pearling grounds. ai-e-eh! my husband, but thy face and neck and hands are as dark as those of the people of makatea--they who are for ever in their canoes.... see, paranili, bend thy head. ai-e-eh! thou art a tall man, my husband," and she trilled a happy, rippling laugh as she placed the hat on his head. he placed one hand around the pliant waist and under the mantle of hair, and drew her towards him, and then, moved by a sudden emotion, kissed her soft, red lips. "luita," he asked, "would it hurt thee if i were to go away?" the girl drew away from him, and, for the first time in two years brantley saw an angry flush tinge her cheek a dusky red. * * * * * "ah!"--the contemptuous ring in her voice made the man's eyes drop--"thou art like all white men--was there ever one who was faithful? what other woman is it that thou desirest? is it nia of ahunui--she who, when thy boat lay anchored in the lagoon, swam off at night and asked thee for thy love--the shameless nia?" the angry light in the black eyes shone fiercely, and the dull red on her cheeks had changed to the livid paleness of passion. brantley, holding the rim of the hat over his mouth, laughed secretly, pleased at her first outburst of jealousy. then his natural manliness asserted itself. "come here," he said. somewhat sullenly the girl obeyed and edged up beside him with face bent down. he put his hand upon hers, and for a few seconds looked at the delicate tracery of tattooing that, on the back, ran in thin blue lines from the finger tips to the wrists. "what a d----d pity!" he muttered to himself; "this infernal tattooing would give the poor devil away anywhere in civilization. her skin is not as dark as that pretty creole i was so sweet on in galveston ten years ago ... well, she's good enough for a broken man like me--but i can't take her away--that's certain." a heavy tear splashed on his hand, and then he pulled her to him, almost savagely. "see, luita. i did but ask to try thee. have no fear. thy land is mine for ever." the girl looked up, and in an instant her face, wet with tears, was laid against his breast. still caressing the dark head that lay upon his chest, brantley stooped and whispered something. the little tattooed hand released its clasp of his arm and struck him a playful blow. "and would that bind thee more to me, and to the ways of these our people of vahitahi," she asked, with still buried face. "aye," answered the ex-captain slowly, "for i have none but thee in the world to care for." she turned her face up. "is there none--not even one woman in far-off beretania, whose face comes to thee in the darkness." brantley shook his head sadly. of course there was doris, he thought, but he had never spoken of her. sometimes when the longing to see her again would come upon him, he would have talked of her to his native wife, but he was by nature an uncommunicative man, and the thought of how doris must feel her loneliness touched him with remorse and made him silent. * * * * * another year passed, and matters had gone well with brantley. ten months before he had dropped on one of the best patches of shell in the paumotus, and to-day, as he sits writing and smoking in the big room of his house, he looks contentedly out through the open door to a little white painted schooner that lay at anchor on the calm waters of the lagoon. he had just come back from tahiti with her, and the two thousand dollars he had paid for the vessel was an easy matter for a man who was now making a thousand dollars a month. "what a stroke of luck!" he writes to doris. "had i gone back to sydney, where would i be now?--a mate, i suppose, on some deep-sea ship, earning twelve or fourteen pounds a month. another year or two like this, and i can go back a made man. some day, my dear, i may; but i will come back here again. the ways of the people have become my ways." * * * * * he laid down his pen and came to the door, and stood thinking awhile and listening to the gentle rustle of the palms as they swayed their lofty plumes to the breezy trade wind. "yes," he thought, "i would like to go and see doris, but i can't take luita, and so it cannot be. how that girl suspects me even now. when i went to tahiti to buy the schooner, i believe she thought she would never see me again.... what a fool i am! doris is all right, i suppose, although it is a year since i had a letter ... and i--could any man want more. i don't believe there's a soul on the island but thinks as much of me as luita herself does; and, by g-d! she's a pearl--even though she is only a native girl. no, i'll stay here; 'kapeni paranili' will always be a big man in the paumotus, but fred brantley would be nobody in sydney--only a common merchant skipper who had made money in the islands.... and perhaps doris is married." * * * * * so he thought and talked to himself, listening the while to the soft symphony of the swaying palm-tops and the subdued murmur of the surf as the rollers crashed on the distant line of reef away to leeward. of late these fleeting visions of the outside world--that quick, busy world, whose memories, save for those of doris, were all but dead to him--had become more frequent; but the calm, placid happiness of his existence, and that strange, fatal glamour that for ever enwraps the minds of those who wander in the islands of the sunlit sea--as the old spanish navigators called polynesia--had woven its spell too strongly over his nature to be broken. and now, as the murmur of women's voices caused him to turn his head to the shady end of the verandah, the dark, dreamy eyes of luita, who with her women attendants sat there playing with her child, looked out at him from beneath their long lashes, and told him his captivity was complete. * * * * * a week afterwards the people of vahitahi were clustered on the beach putting supplies of native food in the schooner's boat. that night he was to sail again for the pearling grounds at matahiva lagoon, and would be away three months. one by one the people bade him adieu, and then stood apart while he said farewell to luita. "e mahina tolu [only three months], little one," he said, "why such a gloomy face?" the girl shook her head, and her mouth twitched. "but the miti [dream], paranili--the miti of my mother. she is wise in the things that are hidden; for she is one of those who believe in the old gods of vahitahi.... and there are many here of the new lotu [faith, i.e. christianity] who yet believe in the old gods. and, see, she has dreamed of this unknown evil to thee twice; and twice have the voices of those who are silent in the marae called to me in the night, and said: 'he must not go; he must not go.'" knowing well how the old superstitious taint ran riot in the imaginative native mind, brantley did not attempt to reason, but sought to gently disengage her hands from his arm. she dropped on the sand at his feet and clasped his knees, and a long, wailing note of grief rang out-"aue! aue! my husband! if it so be that thou dost not heed the voices that call in the night, then, out of thy love for me and our child, let me come also. then, if evil befall thee, let us perish together." brantley raised his hand and pointed to the bowed and weeping figure. some women came and lifted her up. then taking the tender face between his rough hands, he bent his head to hers, sprang into the boat, and was gone. * * * * * ii with ten tons of shell snugly stowed in her hold, the little tamariki was heading back for vahitahi after barely two months' absence. brantley, as he leant over the rail and watched the swirl and eddy of the creamy phosphorescence that hissed and bubbled under the vessel's stern, felt well satisfied. it was the hour of dawn, and the native at the tiller sang, as the stars began to pale before the red flush that tinged the sky to windward, a low chant of farewell to fetuaho, the star of the morning, and then he called to brantley, who to all his crew was always "paranili," and never "kapeni [captain]," and pointed with his naked, tattooed arm away to leeward, where the low outlines of an island began to show. "look, paranili, that is tatakoto, the place i have told thee of, where the turtle makes the white beach to look black. would it not be well for us to take some home to vahitahi?" "thou glutton!" said brantley, good-humouredly, "dost thou think i am like to lose a day so that thou and thy friends may fill thy stomachs with turtle meat?" rua manu laughed, and showed his white, even teeth. "nay, paranili, not for that alone; but it is a great place, that tatakoto, and thou hast never landed there to look, and luita hath said that some day she would ask thee to take her there; for, though she was born at vahitahi, her blood is that of the people of tatakoto, who have long since lain silent in the maraes." * * * * * brantley had often heard her speak of it, this solitary spot in the wide pacific, and now, as he looked at the pretty, verdure-clad island against the weather shore of which the thundering rollers burst with a muffled roar, he was surprised at its length and extent, and decided to pay it a visit some day. "not now, rua," he said to the steersman, "but it shall be soon. are there many coconuts there?" "many? may i perish, but the trees are as the sand of the sea, and the nuts lie thick upon the ground. ai-e-eh! and the robber crabs are in thousands, and fat; and the sea-birds' eggs!" "glutton again! be content. in a little while we and as many of the people of vahitahi as the schooner will carry will go there and stay for the turtle season." * * * * * three days afterwards the schooner was within fifty miles of his island home, when brantley was aroused at daylight from his watch below by the cry of "te pahi!" (a ship!) and hastening on deck he saw a large vessel bearing down upon them. in half an hour she was close to, and brantley recognised her as a brig from tahiti, that occasionally made a trading voyage to the paumotus, and whose skipper was a personal friend. suddenly she hove-to and lowered a boat, which came alongside the schooner, and the white man that steered jumped on deck and held out his hand. "how are you, brantley?" and then his eye went quickly over the crew of the schooner, then glanced through the open skylight into the little cabin, and a hopeful, expectant look in his face died away. "very well, thank you, latham. but what is wrong?--you look worried." "come on board," said the captain of the brig, quietly, "and i'll tell you." as brantley took his seat beside him, latham said: "i have bad news for you, brantley. your sister is on board the brig, and i fear she will not live long. she came down to tahiti in the marama from auckland, and offered me a good round sum to bring her to you." "has she been ill long, latham?" * * * * * latham looked at him curiously. "didn't you know, brantley? she's in a rapid consumption." for a moment neither men spoke; then latham gave a short cough. "i feel it almost as badly as you, brantley--but i've got a bit more bad news--" "go on, latham--it can't matter much. my poor sister is everything to me." "just so. that's what i told miss brantley. well, it's this--your wife and child are missing----" latham glanced at him and saw that his hand trembled and then grasped the gunwale of the boat. "we got into vahitahi lagoon about ten days ago, and i took miss brantley ashore. what happened i don't exactly know, but the next night one of your whale-boats was gone, and luita and the child were missing. your sister was in a terrible state of mind, and offered me a thousand dollars to put to sea. brantley, old man, i wouldn't take a dollar from her--god bless her--but i did put to sea, and i've searched nigh on twenty islands, and scores of reefs and sandbanks----" "thank you, latham," said brantley quietly; "when we get on board you can give me further particulars of the islands you've searched." "you can have my marked chart; i've got a spare one. brace up, old man! you'll see your sister in a minute. she is terribly cut up over poor luita--more so than i knew you would be. but she was a grand little woman, brantley, although she was only a native." "yes," he answered, in the same slow, dazed manner, "she was a good little girl to me, although she----" the words stuck in his throat. * * * * * latham showed him into the brig's cabin, and then a door opened, and doris threw herself weeping into his arms. "oh, doris," he whispered, "why did you not tell me you were ill? i would have come to you long ago. i feel a brute----" she placed her hand on his lips. "never mind about me, fred. has captain latham told you about----" "yes," he replied; and then suddenly: "doris, i am going to look for her; i think i know the place to which she has gone. it is not far from here. doris, will you go on back to vahitahi with latham and wait for me?" "fred," she whispered, "let me come with you. it will not be long, dear, before i am gone, and it was hard to die away from you--that is why i came; and perhaps we may find her." he kissed her silently, and then in five minutes more they had said farewell to latham, and were on their way to the schooner. the crew soon knew from him what had happened, and rua manu, with his big eyes filled with a wondering pity as he looked at the frail body and white face of doris lying on the skylight, wore the schooner's head round to the south-west at a sign from brantley. "aye, paranili," he said, in his deep, guttural tones, "it is to tatakoto she hath gone--'tis her mother's land." * * * * * that night, as she lay on the skylight with her hand in his, doris told him all she knew:-"they were all kind to me when i went ashore to your house, fred, but luita looked so fiercely at me.... her eyes frightened me--they had a look of death in them. "in the morning your little child was taken ill with what they call tataru, and i wanted to give it medicine. luita pushed my hand away and hugged the child to her bosom; and then the other women came and made signs for me to go away. and that night she and the child were missing, and one of your boats was gone." "poor luita," said brantley, stroking doris's pale cheek, "she did not know you were my sister. i never told her, doris." "she is a very beautiful woman, fred. they told me at tahiti that she was called the pearl of vahitahi; and oh! my dear, if we can but find her, i will make her love me for your sake." * * * * * late in the afternoon of the second day, just as the trade wind began to lose its strength, the schooner was running along the weather-side of tatakoto, and rua manu, from the mast-head, called out that he saw the boat lying on the beach inside the lagoon, with her sail set; and, as landing was not practicable on the weather-side, the schooner ran round to the lee. "we will soon know, doris. it always rains in these islands at this time of the year, so she would not suffer as i once did; but the sail of the boat is still set, and that makes me think she has never left it. wait till i come back again, doris; you cannot help me." and doris, throwing her weak arms round his neck, kissed him with a sob, and lay back again to wait. * * * * * with rua manu and two others of his faithful native crew, brantley walked quickly across the island to the lagoon to where the boat lay. luita was not there, and the dark eyes of his sailors met his in a responsive glow of hope--she had not died in the boat! they turned back into the silent aisles of coconut palms, and then rua manu loudly called her name. "listen," he said. a voice--a weak, trembling voice--was singing the song of talaloo. "terunavahori, bending low, bindeth the sandals on talaloo's feet; 'hasten, o hasten, lover true, o'er the coral, cruel and sharp, over the coral, and sand, and rock, snare thee a turtle for our marriage feast; ia akoe! brave lover mine.'" "in the old marae, paranili," said rua manu, pointing to the remains of a ruined temple. motioning to the seamen to remain outside, brantley entered the crumbling walls of the old heathen marae. at the far end was a little screen of coconut boughs. he stooped down and went in. a few minutes passed, and then his hand was thrust out between the branches as a sign for them to follow. * * * * * one by one they came and sat beside brantley, who held the wasted figure of the wanderer in his arms. the sound of his voice had brought back her wavering reason, and she knew them all now. she knew, too, that her brief young life was ebbing fast; for, as each of the brown men pressed their lips to her hand, tears coursed down their cheeks. "see, men of vahitahi, my englishman hath come to me, a fool that fled from his house ... because i thought that he lied to me. teloma was it who first mocked, and said: ''tis his wife from beretania who hath come to seek him;' and then other girls laughed and mocked also, and said: 'ah-he! luita, this fair-faced girl who sayeth she is thy husband's sister, ah-he!' ... and their words and looks stung me ... so at night i took my child and swam to the boat.... my child, see, it is here," and she touched a little mound in the soil beside her. there was a low murmur of sympathy, and then the brown men went outside and covered their faces with their hands, after the manner of their race when death is near, and waited in silence. * * * * * night had fallen on the lonely island, and the far-off muffled boom of the breakers as they dashed on the black ledges of the weather reef would now and then be borne into the darkness of the little hut. "put thy face to mine, paranili," she whispered; "i grow cold now." as the bearded face of the man bent over her, one thin, weak arm rose waveringly in the air, and then fell softly round his neck, and brantley, with his hand upon her bosom, felt that her heart had ceased to beat. * * * * * the next day he sailed the schooner into the lagoon, and doris pressed her lips on the dead forehead of the native girl ere she was laid to rest. something that doris had said to him as they walked away from her grave filled brantley's heart with a deadly fear, and as he took her in his arms his voice shook. "don't say that, doris. it cannot be so soon as that. i was never a good man; but surely god will spare you to me a little longer." but it came very soon--on the morning of the day that he intended sailing out of the lagoon again, doris died in his arms on board the schooner, and brantley laid her to rest under the shade of a giant puka-tree that overshadowed the stones of the old marae. * * * * * that night he called rua manu into the cabin and asked him if he could beat his way back to vahitahi in the schooner. "'tis an easy matter, paranili. so that the sky be clear and i can see the stars, then shall i find vahitahi in three days." "good. then to-morrow take the schooner there, and tell such of the people as desire to be with me to come here, and bring with them all things that are in my house. it is my mind to live here at tatakoto." as the schooner slipped through the narrow passage, he stood on the low, sandy point, and waved his hand in farewell. * * * * * a week later the little vessel dropped her anchor in the lagoon again, and rua manu and his crew came ashore to seek him. they found him lying under the shade of the puka-tree with his revolver in his hand and a bullet-hole in his temple. 