Tears Of The Moon Part 10

'We'll go see what's going on after we've checked the boat,' said Tyndall.

While the men worked the deck, checked the hold and then the rigging, Olivia straightened the little galley, marvelling at how Ahmed turned out meals on a small kerosene spirit stove in such a cramped s.p.a.ce. She washed herself in a bucket of water and put on her second pyjama outfit and bound her hair up on her head where it felt cooler. She took a small jar of rosescented face cream from her small bag and rubbed it into her face to protect her skin, which was growing darker by the day.

At midmorning Tyndall and Ahmed lowered the dinghy, waited for Olivia to expertly clamber into it and they rowed ash.o.r.e. They followed a sandy path through the scrubby bush when suddenly they heard voices, laughter and shouts. Tyndall and Ahmed arrived first at the break in the trees and they stopped in shock at the sight that met their eyes.

Before Olivia could see what was going on in the clearing ahead, Tyndall pulled off his battered skipper's hat and handed it to her. 'Put this on, pull it down low. Don't talk to anyone and stay well back,' he commanded urgently.

At the tone of his voice she didn't argue and peered past the two men standing in the shadows of the trees, their presence as yet unnoticed.

Olivia's hand flew to her mouth at the scene before her.

In the centre of the clearing, a small wooden platform had been erected and standing along it were six miserable naked women, roped together. Varying in age, four were Aborigines, one was of mixed Chinese and Aboriginal blood, while the other, the youngest of them, was an exotic mix of races and stunningly beautiful. Her wide, frightened dark eyes, and lithe tall body made Olivia think of a forest deer.

'What is going on?' she whispered in shock.

'It's a barrac.o.o.n barrac.o.o.n ... slave market. Didn't think it was still going on.' ... slave market. Didn't think it was still going on.'

Olivia was too stunned to answer.

Ahmed nodded his head, 'There's the boss, tuan. Same fella make trouble everywhere.'

He indicated a man walking up and down amongst the motley group of white men gathered around the platform, eyeing the women like horse traders. Short and heavily built, he had a dark complexion with a bushy black beard and a gold earring in one ear. Atop this, he wore a large woven straw hat made from panda.n.u.s fronds. A long whip curled over one shoulder and a gun tucked in a wide leather belt gave him a menacing look.

'Karl Gunther,' hissed Tyndall.

'He looks positively vile,' Olivia murmured.

The man began prodding the women with the long bamboo whip handle, poking it into b.u.t.tocks, between their legs and flicking at a breast. His voice boomed out, 'Righto men, step forward, you've had a chance to eye the goods, let's see who'll be taking home these lovely ladies tonight!' He gave a coa.r.s.e laugh and leapt up on to the platform as the men gathered around him to start bidding.

Ahmed spoke urgently to Tyndall in Malay, and they seemed to reach agreement over something.

'Am I too late, or is new blood welcome?' Tyndall strode forward, leaving Ahmed and Olivia hanging back in the shadows of the trees.

Gunther watched the tall man stride towards him, noting the figures of his Malay offsider and young boy in the black and white tunic in the background. 'Captain Tyndall, no less. New blood, new money, is always welcome.'

Gunther's eyes were cold and hard and there was no welcome in his voice. Olivia realised these men had crossed paths before and there was no love lost between them.

The bidding started, the strongest women going first, payment being handed to Gunther who slashed the rope from the wrist of each woman and handed her over to her new owner.

Olivia cringed. 'This is barbaric. Why can't they at least cover their bodies? It's shameful.'

'Be quiet, mem, if they find out you here, could be big trouble,' warned Ahmed.

Tyndall stood quietly and calmly to one side, his arms folded, watching the proceedings. There were two women left, the beautiful girl of mixed race and a defiant Aboriginal woman who glared at the men, her fists clenched by her sides.

'She looks like trouble. A tough one,' commented one of the men loudly.

'Have a bit of fun breaking her in then,' shot back Gunther.

The young girl stood meekly, her head hanging down, her long straight black hair falling over her justdeveloped round b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

'Here she is. The cream of the crop, a little black virgin, ripe for the plucking,' shouted Gunther. He knew this one would fetch a high price and had even considered keeping her for himself. But he no longer ran a lugger or had use for an untrained woman, in his bed or his business. There were plenty more out there. Even though the practice was out-lawed, he kept this as a lucrative sideline. Once the men had finished with the women as divers and s.e.xual chattels, they could be sold as servants or to brothels. Few of the women had the heart or health to run away by then, but for the moment these poor wretches had little knowledge of just how bleak their future would be.

The bidding for the virgin was brisk but Tyndall remained pa.s.sive. Then as the bidding settled down between two men, Tyndall called out a price-double that of the last bid. He spoke firmly and clearly and even Gunther paused and repeated the price.

'He's not not going to buy that girl!' Olivia could barely contain herself. going to buy that girl!' Olivia could barely contain herself.

Ahmed put a restraining hand on Olivia's arm. 'I ask him to save her, mem. She Maca.s.sar girl. She belong to my people.'

One of the men made a halfhearted bid to better Tyndall but knew it was a lost cause. Tyndall would not be outbid. Gunther waited, hoping the price might double again, but the other men shook their heads.

'She's yours then, Captain Tyndall,' said Gunther ungraciously. 'Enjoy her.'

While Tyndall paid Gunther, Ahmed pulled Olivia back into the trees, out of sight. Tyndall then led the girl away, loosening the rope on her wrists and throwing it away. Pulling off his shirt he put it over her shoulders. She clutched it to her body, never lifting her eyes from the ground as she followed him. Scowling, Gunther watched them go. He didn't trust Tyndall not to turn him in, despite his being party to the proceedings. Gunther instantly planned a voyage that would keep him away from the northwest for a long time.

Tyndall stayed ash.o.r.e while Ahmed rowed Olivia and the girl to the lugger. Olivia went aboard first and the girl nimbly followed. Standing on the deck, she lifted her head and stared curiously at Olivia who took off Tyndall's hat and gave her a gentle smile. The girl was still fearful but curiosity at the sight of a white woman got the better of her and she studied Olivia carefully before giving her a half smile.

While Ahmed rowed back for Tyndall, Olivia took the girl's hand to lead her below deck, but at the sight of the small hatch leading into what appeared to be a dark hole, the girl wrenched her arm away, ran across the deck and jumped over the side.

Olivia shrieked as she hit the water, rushed to the gunwale and peered over the side. The girl's head bobbed to the surface. Tyndall immediately plunged into the lagoon and struck out for the girl who was smoothly kicking her way to the other side. When he grabbed her she beat him with her fists, her flailing arms and legs sending them both below the surface. Finally with an arm locked across her chest and pinning her from behind, he slowly sidestroked back towards Ahmed, who rowed quickly to help. Together they dragged the spluttering naked girl into the boat. Tyndall swam to retrieve his shirt from the water and Ahmed shouted at the girl in Malay, 'We're helping you! We are your friends.'

'Kawan?' She echoed the word and looked confused.

Back on board the lugger, Olivia looked at the bedraggled girl. 'Ahmed, ask her what her name is.'

He spoke to her quickly. 'Her name is Niah.'

'Niah,' repeated Tyndall reflectively. 'Well, Niah, at least we know you can swim! Might make a diver of you yet!'

'What!' Olivia exploded. 'I thought you were going to let her go.'

'Well, not here anyways. Gunther would s.n.a.t.c.h her back in a minute. Besides, I paid a high price for her.' He grinned at Olivia's furious face. Turning to the girl, he said, 'So Niah, what are we going to do with you?'

He spoke to her in Malay and she answered, giving him a smile that made Olivia look from the girl to Tyndall then to Ahmed. 'What did he say, Ahmed?'

Ahmed was grinning and turned away. 'Nothing, mem.'

Tyndall lifted an eyebrow and explained. 'She made me an offer some men might find hard to refuse. Would you be so kind as to give her something to wear?'

Olivia glared at the three of them and stomped below to pull a long white shift from her bag.

With the island now behind them, Olivia sat on the deck and hugged her knees watching Niah, who was sitting comfortably crosslegged in the simple cotton shift, calmly braiding her long dark hair. Olivia noticed she wore a striking flat, carved sh.e.l.l pendant around her neck. Looking close, she reacted with surprise-it had the same pattern on it as the gift the women had given her. Ahmed and the Koepangers busied themselves opening sh.e.l.l and Tyndall stood at the wheel whistling, steering the Bulan Bulan towards Broome. towards Broome.

CHAPTER NINE.

Captain Tyndall's return to Broome with a nubile young black woman did not go unnoticed in the town. Nor indeed, did the fact that Mrs Hennessy had accompanied him on the voyage.

The two women, followed by Ahmed with the luggage, walked solemnly along the jetty after the Bulan Bulan moored. Niah was a step behind Olivia, who was now demurely dressed in her formal day clothes. But sharp eyes watching the small procession quickly identified Niah's white 'dress' as a woman's petticoat, probably Olivia's. moored. Niah was a step behind Olivia, who was now demurely dressed in her formal day clothes. But sharp eyes watching the small procession quickly identified Niah's white 'dress' as a woman's petticoat, probably Olivia's.

Tyndall brought up the rear, cheerfully whistling and carrying his battered leather Gladstone bag containing doc.u.ments, money, pearls and the inevitable bottle of whisky.

As they reached the end of the jetty Conrad came hurrying to greet them. He embraced Olivia and over her shoulder he glanced at Niah, giving Tyndall a quizzical glance and raised eyebrows. Tyndall responded with a grin and a wink.

'My dear, I saw you sail in. It was such a relief to see you home safe and sound. I heard there was a bad blow down the coast.' Conrad released her and put his hands on her shoulders. 'Did you enjoy yourself?' One glance at her sparkling eyes, flushed cheeks and eager smile answered his question.

'Oh, she has quite a story to tell,' commented Tyndall.

'Was it successful?' asked Conrad.

'Indeed it was-despite a small loss along the way,' answered Tyndall. 'Your wife coped admirably, all things considered. I don't know many women who would have done so well under such trying conditions.'

'She didn't get seasick or get in the way?' Conrad asked teasingly.

'No, Conrad, I didn't. I even took the helm once,' interjected Olivia sharply.

'You'll hear all about it, but pour yourself a rum first,' advised Tyndall. 'Nice having you on board, Mrs Hennessy, you made the trip quite memorable.' He strolled off, whistling again. Tyndall was relieved things had gone so well, for it hadn't been an easy trip by any means. However, now her whim had been satisfied, he doubted he'd see Olivia go to sea again.

Niah had been standing quietly to one side and now Conrad gave her a curious glance.

Olivia waved towards the girl. 'Oh, Conrad, this is Niah. She's coming home with us.' As Conrad's jaw dropped, she took his arm. 'I'll explain it all later.'

'I get sulky, mem.' Ahmed handed her bag to Conrad and hurried away.

Conrad lowered his voice. 'Olivia, what is going on? This is all very awkward. I've had a bit of explaining to do down at the club about you going on this trip. They understood about visiting James and so forth, but some of the old hands did say they thought it "a bit rum, old chap". How am I going to explain this girl?'

'You don't have to whisper, Conrad, she doesn't understand English. We're going to look after her for a bit and we'll just say she is going to be my maid and help in the house.'

'A bit difficult when she doesn't speak English and you don't speak Malay,' commented Conrad, throwing her bag into the sulky and helping her climb up.

'Then I'll have to learn Malay, won't I? Oh Conrad, wait till you hear her story!'

Niah was shown to a small room in a separate part of the servant's quarters, much to the dismay of the Chinese cook. He was immediately concerned he might have to train the girl-whom he considered no better than a savage-in domestic duties.

Olivia called the Malay houseboy away from his dusting to explain the details of the house and her situation. She then rejoined Conrad on the verandah.

'Now Olivia, sit down and have a cool drink and tell me all about this ... adventure, and how come we now have a new, er, resident,' said Conrad.

Olivia dropped into the nearest chair and poured out the story.

'Oh Conrad, it was just awful ... the poor girl ... '

Once over the dismay of hearing of the women's barrac.o.o.n and the possible danger Olivia could have encountered, Conrad was rather bemused by the new addition to the household. He saw it as another example of the swashbuckling exploits of his colourful partner, but he was concerned at his wife's involvement and her complicity in concealing details from the police. He was upset with having to go along with the whole business.

'I have grave reservations about all of this,' he said finally.

'Well, we really haven't got much choice,' said Olivia decisively. 'But we say nothing until we talk it over with Captain Tyndall tonight.'

Around sunset Tyndall arrived at the house and he and Conrad settled themselves on the verandah with a bottle of rum and freshly squeezed lime juice set on a silver tray.

Olivia, dressed in a cool, flowered muslin dress, her hair softly combed into a twist at the nape of her neck, joined them. The men rose to their feet as she sat on the small wicker chaise chaise. 'Would you like to join us for supper, Captain Tyndall?' she asked. 'Now that peace has settled on the household.'

'There's been a bit of fracas with the girl. She argues with the houseboy. G.o.d knows what's going on,' said Conrad, looking concerned. 'I hope she isn't going to cause difficulties. Is she actually going to stay on with us, or do you have other plans for her?'

'I'll work out something with Ahmed about her future. In the meantime, Mrs Hennessy has a.s.sured me she will look after her. It will be an ideal opportunity to learn Malay.'

'I'm planning to do so,' said Olivia, taking up his challenge. 'You and Ahmed won't have any secrets from me in the future,' she added.

Tyndall raised his gla.s.s to her. 'Then a toast to you. And thanks for your company on our voyage. May I add, you are looking very fetching this evening.'

Olivia smiled in acknowledgement. She could tell he'd already put several rums under his belt, and that the compliment was a reference to the very different attire she'd been wearing on the Bulan Bulan.

'Oh, thanks for the invitation to dinner, by the way, but I've got to meet some chaps for a drink or two,' said Tyndall.

'Socialising tonight, eh?' interjected Conrad, feeling a little uncomfortable with the bantering conversation.

'I've been doing a bit of that at the Conti already,' he said easily. 'My, we are the talk of the town.'

Conrad looked concerned. 'Oh dear. I hope the RM hasn't heard about Olivia's little adventure.'

'People will always talk. I ignore them and just live my life,' said Tyndall.

'That's all well and good, but when one aspires to a certain standing in the community, one has to consider one's actions to a certain degree. It's not possible to simply do as one wants to, no matter what.' Seeing the expressions of Tyndall and Olivia, Conrad realised he was sounding pompous.

'Is that what you want, Conrad? To aspire to a certain standing in the community?' asked Olivia gently. 'I'm sorry if my actions have embarra.s.sed you.'

Tyndall glanced at the contrite Olivia, but suddenly knew from the light in the depths of her green eyes she wasn't the least bit sorry for taking the trip on the Bulan Bulan.

'Don't worry about it, Conrad. Your wife's reputation is intact. Now, we must discuss business for a moment or two. We have to start deep sea pearling and that will mean further investment.'

'What sort of investment?' asked Conrad cautiously, knowing that funds were low.

'We have to equip the lugger with a new pump and gear and make more room to accommodate a crew. The schooner will act as mother ship. And we have to find a diver and tender.'

'That's all your department,' said Conrad. Enthused by the idea, he added. 'The more I learn about the pearling business, the more I like it.'

'He's got the bug now,' said Olivia, pleased that Conrad's normal reserve and caution were swept aside by the heady business of pearling, with its lure of finding valuable pearls.

Like so many men before him, the mystique of pearls was affecting Conrad. He had begun to read what he could find on the industry and had talked to as many people as possible about all aspects of pearling. The loose rounds, baroque and blister pearls attached to the sh.e.l.l were considered a bonus, but enough were found in the deeper waters off Broome to make it a lucrative sideline to pearl sh.e.l.l. Not all the pearls collected were officially reported to the Customs authorities for duty and record keeping. It was a great temptation, especially when good pearls were found, not to declare them and sell them on the snide market or send them to buyers in Singapore, Hong Kong or Melbourne.

Conrad was glad to be able to report his own small success. 'Actually, while you were away, I made a good friend of the town's best pearl cleaner, so we can hand over the first batch of pearls to him. His name is Tobias Metta.'

Tobias Metta was from Ceylon via Singapore. Conrad had taken to frequently visiting Toby's non-descript office where his work bench was spread with the most basic of tools-a magnifying lens, a goldsmith's file stuck in the end of a champagne cork, a knife with several blades honed to their ultimate sharpness, file board and clamp, emery paper, ruby powder, a soft cloth and a pair of scales.