The Nameless Island Part 13

"Not that, you a.s.s!" exclaimed Mr. McKay, laughing.

"Gla.s.s--telescope--see?" and he raised his hands to imitate the operation of using a telescope. "I'll have the drink, anyhow."

Once more Quexo ran to the house, this time bringing back the required instrument.

"There are at least forty natives," said Mr. McKay, after a lengthy examination of the oncoming craft. "They may be armed. If so, their weapons are lying on the bottom of the canoe. But unless I am very much mistaken, there's a white man aboard."

"A prisoner? Let me have a look, pater!"

In his eagerness Andy almost s.n.a.t.c.hed the telescope from his parent's hand.

"A queer set of customers," he exclaimed; "but I don't think the white man is a captive, for he's talking to a fellow with his hair frizzed up a foot above his head."

"We've seen enough for the time being," rejoined Mr. McKay quietly, "so we'll return to the house and serve out the arms. At the rate they are travelling, the canoe will be here in ten minutes."

"They won't injure the boat?" asked Andy anxiously, for the yawl was almost like a child to him.

"Not when they see us with rifles in our hands. Whatever you do, don't let them have reason to think we want to fight, and, above all, don't show any signs of fear."

The party quickly strapped on their ammunition belts and revolver holsters, then, grasping their rifles, they hastened down to the beach.

The canoe had by this time entered the lagoon, and its occupants had perceived the house and the other buildings, for they had ceased paddling, and were gazing in wonder towards the sh.o.r.e. Nor did the appearance of five armed men serve to set their minds at rest.

"Hullo, there!" shouted Mr. McKay.

"Hullo, there!" was the reply. "What's your game?"

"What's yours?" replied Mr. McKay.

"All square, governor. Can we land?"

"Provided you keep your people in order," replied Mr. McKay, then turning to his companions he exclaimed: "By Jove! I know that fellow; he's no good, I'm afraid."

"You know him?"

"Yes, I met him on a pearl-fisher in Torres Strait twenty odd years ago. He hasn't changed much in appearance, and I'm afraid his manners haven't. Still, I'll not claim acquaintanceship with him at present."

The paddles were resumed, and the canoe glided quietly to the sh.o.r.e.

The natives, for the most part stark naked, began to tumble over the side, some grasping enormous clubs studded with sharks' teeth, and others long triple-barbed spears.

"Tell those fellows to throw those weapons back into the canoe,"

shouted Mr. McKay sternly. "Otherwise we'll not permit them to land."

The white man spoke a few words to the turban-haired native, who in turn uttered an order to his men. Instantly the weapons were thrown into the canoe with a loud clatter, and the natives, wading ash.o.r.e, secured their boat and proceeded to squat in a semicircle.

"My name's Blight--Jimmy Blight," exclaimed the stranger.

Mr. McKay merely nodded his head in reply. He could not bring himself to say the words "Pleased to see you," for the simple reason that he was not.

Jimmy Blight had had a chequered career. He was a man of about fifty years of age, some five feet eight inches in height, and of medium build. Years of exposure to a tropical sun had not left any trace upon his face, for his complexion was a chalky white. He had a bristling, dark moustache; cut high over the lips, a scanty crop of dark hair, a thin, straight nose, rather deep-set eyes that were continually shifting in expression, while his hands, the broad nails of which were bitten to the quick, showed little trace of hard work.

When Mr. McKay first met him he was mate of a pearling vessel, and already he bore a bad reputation as a hard drinker and a card-sharper, while it was well known that his tyranny had more than once caused bloodshed amongst the Kanaka crew of the vessel. By his white a.s.sociates he was commonly known as "Chinese Pork"--in other words, something very unpleasant.

"Well, what can I do for you?" asked Mr. McKay bluntly.

"The island's free, I guess?" replied Blight, with a leer that ill-concealed his natural aggressiveness.

"So long as you behave yourself; but should one of those men touch so much as a copper nail, we'll send you to the right about in double quick time. Understand?"

"Yes, boss. But how about a drink? You seem fixed up pretty comfortable here."

"You can have as much water as you want at the stream. Beyond that, I'm afraid we cannot provide you."

"Humph! Must take pot-luck, I suppose. Say, are you traders?"

Mr. McKay did not think it advisable to answer.

"What's your business, might I ask?" he inquired.

"It's a long story, boss. You see my mates here"--indicating the group of squatting natives--"belong to the island of Ahii, which lies seventy miles nor'west of here. In fact, I was very comfortable along of 'em, but might is right in these parts, I'll allow."

"Chinese Pork" paused to allow the weight of this sentence to take effect, but Mr. McKay betrayed no sign.

"So a few days ago a tribe of natives from Teku came and drove us out.

There was a fight, you bet, but our fellows got the worst of it. So we hooked it, and took canoe to Ni Atong, which is less than twenty miles S.E. of Ahii. Ni Atong's all very well, only it ain't big enough, so we're trying to find a larger island to settle upon. There's close on a couple of hundred natives, and ten large canoes at Ni Atong. Strikes me this place 'ud suit, 'specially with white gents like yourselves for company like."

"I'm afraid you must give up all idea of bringing your friends here, Mr. Blight, or yourself either."

"Say, why?"

"Because we cannot permit it."

"Look here, boss," replied Blight with an impudent swagger. "How do you think you'll stop two hundred natives if they set their minds on landing here? Even I couldn't stop 'em."

"Let them try," replied Mr. McKay. "Now, Mr. Blight, I cannot refuse you hospitality. Food will be sent down to you; then, when your men have rested sufficiently, I must ask you to leave this island."

And turning on his heel, Mr. McKay began to make his way back to the house, the lads following him closely.

Before he had taken a dozen steps the ex-pearler ran after him.

"See here, boss; I don't mean to give offence--no offence meant--but you'll allow it's hard on a chap to be done out of his own crib by a pack o' n.i.g.g.e.rs. And then you can't deny you've treated me off-handish, specially as you're the first white man I've seen these two years. So let's come to terms. I see you're well armed. Why not come back to Ahii with us, and make those chaps from Teku clear off back to their own island? Then the Ahii people won't want to trouble you. See?"

"I'll consider the matter," replied Mr. McKay. "By the by, do you ever go to Tahiti?"

"Not often, boss. I was there two years ago. When I've got a cargo of copra ready I send it by a native boat. Why do you ask?"

"I merely wanted to know, Mr. Blight. But now I must be off. I'll send the provisions along shortly, and will give you a definite reply to your proposal in a few hours. It seems to me that the easiest way out of the mess is to accept the fellow's advice," remarked Mr. McKay as they entered their house. "We certainly don't want to try conclusions with a horde of savages on this island. No doubt we could beat them off, but in any case there is a considerable amount of risk.

If I can get Blight to give me a guarantee--though I don't place much reliance on his word--backed by the chief's a.s.surance that his men will not trespa.s.s upon the island, I think we can very well help them."