Rodman The Boatsteerer And Other Stories Part 22

Four bells struck, and Proctor was relieved by a white seaman, and another native came to relieve the man who was steering the boat, which was now hauled up under the counter. Just then, as the mate called out, "Ready about," Proctor touched the child on the arm.

"Allan, would you like to come in the boat with me?"

The boy laughed with delight. "Oh, yes, Peter, I would like it."

Proctor turned to the native who was waiting to relieve the man who was steering the boat. "You can go for'ard, Jimmy, I'll take the boat for you."

The native grinned. "All right, Peter, I no like boat," and in another moment Proctor had pa.s.sed the child down into the boat, into the arms of the native sailor whose place he was taking, and quickly followed. As she drifted astern, the _Kate Rennie_ went about, the towline tautened out, and a delighted laugh broke from the boy as he sat beside Proctor and saw the white canvas of the barque looming up before him.

"Hush!" said Proctor, and his hand trembled as he grasped the steer-oar.

Then he drew the child to his bosom and caressed him almost fiercely.

For half an hour the barque slipped along, and Proctor sat and steered and smoked and watched the child, who now slumbered at his feet. Then the stars darkened over, a black cloud arose to the eastward, the wind died away, and the mate's voice hailed him to come alongside, as a heavy squall was coming on. "And you'll have trouble with the captain for taking his boy in that boat," added Williams.

"Ay, ay, sir," answered Proctor, as he looked at the cloud to windward, which was now quickly changing to a dullish grey; and then he sprang forward and cut the tow-line with his sheath-knife.

Five minutes pa.s.sed. Then came a cry of agony from the barque, as Rothesay, who had rushed on deck at Williams's call, placed his hand on the tow-line and began to haul it in.

"Oh, my G.o.d, Williams, the line has parted. Boat ahoy, there, where are you?"

And then with a droning hum the squall smote the _Kate Rennie_ with savage fury, and nearly threw her over on her beam ends; and Proctor the Drunkard slewed the boat round and let her fly before the hissing squall towards the dimmed outline of Bougainville.

For two days the _Kate Rennie_ cruised off the northern end of Bougainville, searching for the missing boat. Then Rothesay beat back to Numa Numa and anch.o.r.ed, and carefully examined the coast with his boats.

But no trace or Proctor nor the child was ever found. Whether the boat was dashed to pieces upon the reef or had been blown past the north end of the island and thence out upon that wide expanse of ocean that lies between the Solomons and New Guinea was never known, and the fete of Proctor the Drunkard and his innocent victim will for ever remain one of the many mysteries of the Western Pacific till the sea gives up its dead.

A PONAPEAN CONVENANCE

"Here also, as at Yap, the youngest wives and sisters of the chiefs visited the frigate.... Somewhat shocking at first to our feelings as Christians.... Yet to have declined what was regarded by these simple and amiable people as the very highest token of their regard for the officers of the expedition, would have been bitterly resented....

And, after all, our duties to our King and Queen were paramount... the foundation of friendly relations with the people of this Archipelago!...

The engaging manners and modest demeanour of these native ladies were most commendable. That this embarra.s.sing custom was practised to do us especial honour we had ample proof."

Chester, the trader, laid down the book and looked curiously at the t.i.tle, "A Journal of the Expedition under Don Felipe Tompson, through the Caroline Islands." It was in Spanish, and had been lent him by one of the Jesuit Fathers in Ponape.

"Ninety years haven't worked much difference in some of the native customs," thought he to himself. "What a sensation Don Felipe would have made lecturing at St. James's Hall on these pleasantly curious customs!

I must ask Tulpe about these queer little functions. She's chock-full of island lore, and perhaps I'll make a book myself some day."

"Huh!" said Tulpe, Chester's native wife, whipping off her muslin gown and tossing it aside, as she lay back and cooled her heated face and bared bosom with a fan, "'tis hot, Kesta, and the sun was balanced in the middle of the sky when we left Jakoits in the boat, and now 'tis all but night; and wind there was none, so we used not the sail."

"Foolish creature," said Chester, again taking up his book, "and merely to see this new white missionary woman thou wilt let the sun bake thy hands and feet black."

Handsome, black-browed Tulpe flashed her white, even teeth as she smiled.

"Nay, but listen, Kesta. Such a woman as this one never have I seen. Her skin is white and gleaming as the inside of the pearl-sh.e.l.l. How comes it, my white man, that such a fair woman as this marrieth so mean-looking a man? Was she a slave? Were she a woman of Ponape, and of good blood, Nanakin the Great would take her to wife."

"Aye," said Chester lazily; "and whence came she and her husband?"

"From Kusaie (Strong's Island), where for two years have they lived, so that now the woman speaketh our tongue as well as thee."

"Ha!" said the trader quickly; "what are their names?"

She told him, and Chester suddenly felt uncomfortable.

Two years before, when spending a few idle months in Honolulu, he had met that white woman. She was waiting to be married to the Rev. Obadiah Yowlman, a hard-faced, earnest-minded, little Yankee missionary, who was coming up from the Carolines in the _Planet_. There had been some rather heavy love-pa.s.sages between her and Chester. He preserved his mental equilibrium--she lost hers. The pa.s.sionate outburst of the "little she missionary," as he called her when he bade her goodbye, he regarded as the natural and consistent corollary of moonlit nights beneath the waving palms on white Hawaiian beaches. When he returned to Ponape he simply forgot all about her--and Tulpe never asked him inconsiderate questions about other women whom he might have met during the six months he was away from her. He had come back--that was all she cared for.

"I wonder how Tulpe would take it if she knew?" he thought. "She might turn out a bit of a tiger."

"What are thy thoughts, Kesta?" And Tulpe came over to him and leant upon his shoulder. "Is it in thy mind to see and talk with the new missionary and his wife?"

"No," said Chester promptly; "sit thou here, wood-pigeon, and tell me of the customs I read of here."

She sat down beside him, and leant her dark head against his knee, fanning herself the while she answered his questions.

"As it was then, Kesta, so is it now. And if it were to advantage thee I should do likewise. For is it not the duty of a woman to let all men see how great is her love for her husband? And if a great chief or king of thy land came here, would I not obey thee?"

Chester laughed. "No great chiefs of my land come here--only ship-captains and missionaries."

She turned and looked up into his face silently for a few moments, then rose.

"I know thy meaning now. But surely this mean-faced missionary is not to be compared to thee! Kesta, 'tis the fair-faced woman that is in thy mind. Be it as you will. Yet I knew not that the customs of thy land were like unto ours."

"What the devil is she driving at!" thought Chester, utterly failing to grasp her meaning.

Early next morning Tulpe was gone.

"Deny it not, white woman. If thou dost not love my husband, how came it that yesterday thou asked his name of me? See now, I deal fairly with thee. For three days will I stay _here_ although thy husband is but as a hog in my eyes, for he is poor and mean-looking, while mine is----, well, thou shalt see him; and for three days shalt thou stay in _my_ house with my husband. So get thee away, then--the boat waits."

Pretty Mrs. Yowlman fled to her room and, wondering whether Chester knew, began to cry, while Tulpe sat down, and, rolling a cigarette, resignedly awaited the appearance of the Rev, Obadiah Yowlman.

An hour afterwards the Rev. gentleman came in with Chester, who had walked across the island on discovering Tulpe's absence.

"No, thank you," he said to the missionary; "I won't stay now.... Some other time I will do myself the pleasure of calling upon Mrs. Yowlman, and yourself... You must excuse my wife having called upon you twice.