John Frewen, South Sea Whaler Part 7

The instructions given to the half-caste by the chief and Frewen were to tow the ship to the south-east, with the land on the port hand. This would not only take her out of danger, but would prevent suspicion being engendered in the minds of the mutineers by their seeing that she was actually being taken away from, instead of towards the land. Both Frewen and Malie had decided that she was not to be re-captured till she was well into soundings, for events might arise which would necessitate her being brought to an anchor, especially if continuous heavy rain should fall during the night.

As soon as Raymond and the stalwart chief ascended to the p.o.o.p, the pseudo-captain received them most affably, complimented them on the smart manner in which the boats had gone ahead with the line, and then asked them to take some refreshment The offer was accepted, for neither had had the inclination to eat anything on sh.o.r.e--they, like their men, were too eager to get possession of the ship to trouble about food.

Ryan sat at the table with them as they ate, and repeated his fiction regarding the accident to his chief officer, at which the planter politely expressed his concern. Then the mutineer, in a casual sort of a way, asked Raymond if there had been any English or American war-ships cruising about Samoa lately.

"No, not for a long time, but I did hear that the American corvette _Adams_ was expected here last year, but she must have pa.s.sed by here, and gone on to Fiji There is always work for a man-of-war there at any time--the Fijians are a rough lot, and hardly a month pa.s.ses without some European trader or sailor being killed and eaten, or else badly hurt. Even at the present time all the people living in the eastward islands of the Fiji Group are rank cannibals. It is a place to be avoided."

"Ah, well, I won't go near there," said the mutineer, somewhat meditatively.

"No, of course not," said the planter; "I suppose that your course for Batavia will take you to the northwest after you leave here--Fiji is six hundred miles to the south-west."

"I did think of putting in there when my mate met with his accident--thought I would find a doctor there; but now, thanks to your friend, I shall not need one for him--he is much better already."

"That is fortunate," said Raymond: "he might have died before you could reach the port of Levuka in Fiji. And besides that, I doubt if you would find a doctor living there. I have never heard of any medical man being settled in Fiji. On the other hand you could have left him on sh.o.r.e, where he would at least have met with good nursing from some of the English ladies there; and you could easily have obtained another mate; there are dozens of ex-skippers and mates idling about in Fiji."

Ryan had learnt all he wanted to know, and he changed the subject. He was still anxious about Almanza not living--for no one could tell what might occur to the _Esmeralda_ if he died and the ship was left without a navigator. He (Ryan) and Foster would have had no objection to ridding themselves of him, were either one of them able to navigate the ship as far as the Philippine Islands. They had all three previously agreed with the rest of the crew as to their future plans, after they had disposed of Marston and those who were faithful to him. When within sight of Luzon--and abreast of Manila--the ship was to be scuttled, and the mutineers with their plunder in two boats were to make for a part of the coast where there was a village, well-known to Rivas and Garcia.

Here the money was to be divided, and every man was to shift for himself--some to go to Manila, others taking pa.s.sage to that den of thieves, the Portuguese settlement of Maoao, where they meant to enjoy themselves after their manner.

When Raymond and the chief returned on deck, they found the ship was making good progress through the smooth sea, the natives in the boats singing a melodious chorus as, all in perfect unison, they plunged their broad-bladed paddles in the water, and the tow line surged and shook off thousands of phosph.o.r.escent drops at every united stroke. The night was dark, but not quite starless, and presently Frewen, who was talking to Foster, remarked that some heavy rain would fall in a short time.

"Our natives won't like that," said Raymond to "Captain Ryan"; "like all Kanakas, they hate being wetted with rain, though they will spend half a day in the rivers bathing and playing games in the water."

"A few bottles of grog will keep up their courage," said Frewen, "especially some rum. Have you any to spare, captain?"

"Any amount."

"Then I'll tell Cheyne to let the boats come alongside in turn, and we'll give all the natives a good rousing nip before the rain comes."

He walked for'ard and stood on the topgallant foc'sle and gave a loud hail.

"Boat ahoy!"

The singing ceased in an instant, and then Randall's voice answered--

"Hallo! what is it?"

"Come aboard and get a gla.s.s of grog. Tell the men in the other boats they can follow in turn."

"Ay, ay, sir," replied the half-caste in such loud tones that he was heard distinctly on the after-deck, "they'll be glad enough of it; we'll get plenty of cold fresh water presently outside, and some rum to put inside will be just the thing."

Both Raymond and the two Greeks laughed, and then a minute or two later Cheyne and his boat's crew were alongside, and were given a pint of rum between them. They drank it off "neat," and after lighting their pipes, went back to their boat, and let another come alongside. She was manned by a dozen natives, who were all given a stiff gla.s.s of grog. They remained but a few minutes, and then went off to give place to the third boat, in which were twenty men. They scrambled over the side, laughing and talking, and then, just as the first five or six of them had been served, the rain poured suddenly down and made such a terrific noise that the shouts of the men in the other boats could not be heard, and the ship was at once enveloped in a thick steamy mist, which rendered even objects on deck invisible.

"It will only last about ten minutes," shouted Frewen to Ryan as they, with Raymond and Malie, took shelter in the companion-way.

"Where are all those men of yours?" asked the mutineer somewhat anxiously.

Frewen's answer rea.s.sured him. "All bolted for shelter," he said with a laugh, "without even waiting to get their grog. I hope your men will let them crawl in somewhere." Then turning to Malie, he said in English--

"Call to them, Malie."

Malie stepped out on the deck, and presently Ryan and the others heard him speaking. In a minute or two I he reappeared with three or four stalwart natives, all dripping wet, and said something to Raymond, who translated the remark to Ryan.

"All the others have bolted like rabbits, some into the galley, and others into the foc'sle," he said.

In less than the ten minutes predicted by Frewen the rain ceased as if by magic; the natives gathered together again on the main deck, completed their grog drinking, went into their boat again, and poshed off to resume their labour.

In the course of another half an hour every one of the native boats'

crews had had his small tumblerful of neat rum, and then, as their paddles plunged into the placid water, once more they sang their chorus--

"_Ala, tamaaitii, Alo foe!_" ("Pull, boys, pull!")

CHAPTER XI

Six bells struck, and then once more the stars went out, and the sky changed from blue to dull grey.

"Very heavy rain will fall again presently," said Raymond to the leader of the mutineers, "and as the ship is well now in the counter current and out of danger, the chief would like to call his men alongside for a rest. But we'll tow you for another mile or so after the rain ceases--if you wish it."

Ryan was keenly anxious to put as much distance between the land and the _Esmeralda_ as possible, for he was haunted by the fear that the captain's boat had been picked up by some ship which might be sighted at any time. The further away from the land, the safer he would feel.

"I should like them to tow me along for another hour or two, after the rain is oyer," he said. "I will pay liberally."

Raymond spoke to the chief in Samoan and told him the captain's request, and Malie answered in the same language.

"As you will, Lemonti. But why toil any longer? My men are all ready and anxious. We can take the ship now at any time, once my men are here."

"And I, too, am ready, Alalia. But it was in my mind to wait and see if, when the bell strikes eight, half of the _auva'a_ (ship's crew) would not go below to sleep, so that we shall have less disturbance."

"What matters it?" said Alalia with good-humoured contempt; "there are less than a score of them, and when the word is spoken they will be as easily overpowered and bound as a strong man can overpower and bind a child."

"Then let it be as you say," said Raymond in the same quiet tones; "let us call the men on board, and, when the bell is struck at midnight, we shall seize those evil men together--as the bell is struck the last time."

"Good!" said the chief, as he nonchalantly rolled himself a cigarette in a piece of dried banana leaf which he took from his tappa waist cloth.

"I will tell them how to act."

"What does he say?" asked Ryan.

"He is quite willing, but he says his men are really tired now, and want a good long spell. They are not used to such work, and he does not want to give them cause for grumbling. They are very touchy sometimes.

However, after the next downpour clears off, they will tow you another two or three miles." (And Raymond meant this literally, for he, Frewen, and the chief wanted to see the _Esmeralda_ at anchor off Samatau by daylight.)

At a call from Raymond the boats came alongside, and as the crews clambered on deck Malie told them how to dispose themselves about the ship so that when the signal was given the mutineers could be seised without their being afforded any opportunity of resistance. Five or six of his best men followed him aft, whilst the others mingled with the crew, most of them going down into the foc'sle. The Chilenos, however, although satisfied of the friendly intentions of their visitors, were still a little nervous, for, despite the fact that none of the natives carried even so much as a knife, the wild appearance they presented was somewhat disconcerting to men who had never before come in contact with what they termed "savages." Fully one half of Malie's followers were men of such stature that the undersized though wiry Chilenos looked like dwarfs beside them; then, in addition to this, their immense "mops" of bright golden hair--dyed that colour by the application of lime--and their wonderfully tatooed bodies, with the first intricate lines beginning at the waist and ending at the knees, accentuated the velvety and rich reddish brown of their skins. Each of the Chileno seamen still carried a brace of pistols in his belt and a cutla.s.s hung by his side, but the natives apparently took no notice of such a manifestation of distrust, and they and the mutineers exchanged cigars and cigarettes as if they were the best friends in the world.

Suddenly the rain fell, and all other sounds were deadened by the downpour; it continued for three-quarters of an hour, and then, as Frewen remarked, ceased with a "snap."

In the main cabin Raymond, with Malie, was seated at the table talking to Ryan; on the p.o.o.p and under the shelter of the temporary awning were Cheyne, Frewen, Foster, the ruffianly Rivas, and two other of the Ghileno seamen, with three of the natives who had accompanied Cheyne and his Mend from Lepa.