XII

"BOARDERS!"

The sun went down that night behind banks of crimson clouds, which grew

black as twilight gave place to darkness and blotted out the young moon

sinking in the west. The evening was calm, but the night promised to

be a stormy one. The Tara still lay broadside to the beach and a close

watch informed us that Tua had not left the islet. My time had come.

Our chief concern was to make no sound which might give the alarm to

the sharp ears of the savage on watch. Pulling together the curtains

of the lower berth and muffling the operation in blankets to avoid the

slightest noise, we tore a sheet into strips and braided a length of

clumsy cord. Then in the upper berth my uncle knotted our rope to one

of my ankles, and very gently and cautiously I began to squirm my way

out through the porthole. It was a tighter fit than I had supposed;

after a twist or two it seemed to me that I could neither move forward

nor go back. I was naked save for a pair of swimming trunks, and

several square inches of my skin remained on the porthole's sharp brass

rim, but at last I was through, hanging by one leg with my head and

arms in the water. Knowing that the least splash would bring Kwala

instantly to the side, my uncle lowered me little by little into the

lagoon, until I lay motionless in the black water and the end of the

cord fell into my outstretched hand. I undid the knot, heard Uncle

Harry's faintly breathed "Good luck!" and dove without a sound. It was

not yet fully dark and I feared that the black man's eyes might discern

my head in the reflections of the sunset. Thirty yards nearer the

shore I rose to the surface and expelled the breath gently from my

lungs. All was quiet aboard the Tara. I had neither been seen nor

heard.

I landed under an overhanging thicket of hibiscus, in a little cove

where Marama and I kept our canoe hauled up. There were no lights in

the doorways that I passed, but when I came to Maruia's house I found

the population of the islet assembled there, women and children outside

and the divers in the house, surrounding Maruia and Schmidt's mate who

sat in earnest conversation on the floor. The light of a lamp shone on

the pair and I saw that Tua's face wore an expression of dejection and

perplexity. A murmur of astonishment went up as I arrived, and indeed

I must have presented a strange appearance--wet, nearly naked, bleeding

in a dozen places. Maruia rose and put an arm about me, patting my

bare shoulder softly.

"Ah, Tehare," she said, "you have escaped from that wicked man--that is

good. And Seroni, your uncle?" I told her how we had been imprisoned

in the stateroom, and how I had escaped through the porthole, too small

for the broader shoulders of a man. Then I asked for news of Marama.

"He is here," she answered, leading me to her bed, screened off with

mats in a corner of the spacious room; "see, he sleeps, and we must not

wake him. He followed the western shore on foot, hastening to warn

Seroni, but when he came here it was too late. His feet are cut to

ribbons by the coral and the sun has given him a fever; I have bandaged

his wounds and brewed a tea of herbs. But come--there are other things

of which we must speak." She led me back through the crowd and pointed

to Tua.

"This man is my foster son," she said, "a good man, but he serves an

evil master. He brings us a message from that German that we must go

to the far end of the islet while our shell and Seroni's is carried

away. Tua is greatly troubled in his mind. He has signed papers and

the white man's laws are strict. Furthermore those men are fierce and

wary; they are armed with rifles, while we have none. What are we to

do?"

I turned to the mate. "Saving Schmidt and the black and Rairi," I

asked him, "are the others of the Cholita's crew good men?"

"I know them all," he replied, "and they are like others of their kind,

neither good nor bad. But like me, they are in fear of Schmidt and of

the white man's prison."

"Listen, then," I went on, "and I will show you how to act the part of

honest men. Schmidt is indeed an evil captain and to stand by him

means prison in the end. My own ears have heard him say that after he

has stolen our pearls and our shell he plans to sell the schooner and

leave you deserted and friendless in a foreign land. Take warning,

therefore, while there is time. You have heard of Seroni--Maruia will

tell you whether he or Schmidt is the more to be trusted. Give heed to

my words, then. Schmidt and that dog Rairi await your coming on the

Cholita. Go to them now and tell them that you have delivered their

message; that the people will obey, being unarmed and in fear of the

rifles. In a little while those two men will go to the Tara, where

they will sleep this night. Once they are gone, arouse the crew softly

without showing lights, and talk to them in the forecastle, telling

them what I have said. Remember that you on the Cholita need run no

risks: only lie quietly if there are noises from the other schooner.

In the morning the Tara will be ours and those three men our prisoners.

Seroni will see to it that no man of you is wrongly accused. The truth

is that the Government will praise you for having refused to aid a

captain who is no better than a robber. Think of old Pahuri, whose

blood is on your decks--is that the work of honest men?"

"Aye, and this!" A deep voice rang out as Fatu rose from the dark

corner where he had been lying, and pointed downward with a gigantic

outstretched arm. Then for the first time I saw Ivi, grinning at me

over a shoulder done up in blood-soaked rags. "It is well said that

Rairi is a dog," Fatu went on. "If I had my hands on his throat once

more, I would not let go so soon!" An angry murmur went up from the

divers; I perceived that the moment was ripe for my proposal.

"Who will come with me this night," I asked--"who will follow Fatu to

capture the Tara and to set Seroni free?" Ofai sprang from his seat at

Ivi's side. The divers crowded about me eagerly to hear my plan.

"We shall need only six or seven of the strongest," I told them. "Let

us give Tua time to return and deliver his message, and then, when

Rairi and the bearded captain have gone back to the Tara to sleep we

will swim out without noise, climb softly on deck, and take them by

surprise. Only one man will be on watch; Seroni waits our coming to

break down the door with an axe that will be given him."

While I lay on a mat, discussing our plan with Maruia and the others,

Tua took leave of us. I felt a reasonable confidence that he would

play his part and keep his men from interfering on behalf of Schmidt.

Maruia's blood was up; she was keen to go with us and it was not easy

to persuade her to stay behind. An hour dragged

by--another--another--it was nearly midnight when I gave the word to

set out. Each man was naked save for a breechclout; our bodies were

well rubbed with coconut oil, and we carried the long keen knives used

for clearing bush.

The moon had set long since, and black clouds blotted out the stars. A

stir of air from the south caused the palms to rustle and sigh

uneasily. We were in for a squall. I saw that unless the wind grew

strong enough to rouse the sleepers on the Tara, the weather was in our

favor: the squall would put the watcher off his guard and drown the

slight noises of our approach. Presently the wind was sweeping in

gusts across the lagoon, driving a fine rain into our faces. The

schooner must be facing the south, with her stern toward shore.

"I think there will be a line astern," I told the men crouching beside

me under the dripping hibiscus trees, "and Fatu and I will go aboard

that way. You others must swim to the bow without a sound and climb up

by the chain or by the jib-boom stay. We will allow you time to get

aboard. Wait by the forecastle till you hear the alarm given and then

come aft to take them by surprise. As I told you, there will be only

one man on watch, and Fatu alone can handle him. We must not use our

knives unless they drive us to it. Come--it is time we set out--this

squall will drown the noise of our approach."

"Yes," put in Fatu, whose closest friend was Pahuri, the old engineer,

"let us go quickly! My hands yearn for the feel of Rairi's throat!"

I led the way into the water, deeper and deeper, till we were swimming

in the black lagoon. We seemed an hour in reaching the Tara, anchored

no more than four hundred yards offshore. The little waves slapped

against my face and the rain stung my eyes. At last, when I was

wondering if we had taken the wrong direction, the clouds broke and the

stars shone out, disclosing the dim outlines of the Tara close ahead

and Schmidt's schooner, riding at anchor a hundred yards away. At that

moment a man appeared on deck,--whether Schmidt or Rairi I could not

make out,--carrying a lantern in his hand. He made the lantern fast to

the main boom and left it hanging there. Then he drew a deck-chair

into the circle of faint light, and sat down, facing the schooner's bow.

With Fatu close behind, I swam under the overhang of the stern, and

next moment my hand touched a heavy rope, trailing overboard from the

rail. The half-caste girl had kept her word. The others were

clustering about us, and as the wind was still strong I ventured to

whisper fresh instructions there in the schooner's lee. "The rope is

here," I told them softly; "do not hurry about getting aboard. Give

that man time to settle down quietly in his chair. Be ready to come

running aft in five minutes."

I had not reckoned on Fatu's impatience, nor on the native vagueness

about time. My companion was roused as I had never seen him before.

For a little while, with the greatest difficulty, I restrained his

eagerness, but finally he shook my hand off his shoulder and began to

pull his huge body up the rope, hand over hand. I followed: there was

nothing else to do. The wind was still blowing strongly from the south.

Fatu reached the rail in an instant, heaved himself aboard with uncanny

agility, and dropped to the deck without a sound. I was desperately

slow in following, for I was tired and chilled, and my arms were not

trained to sailors' work. When at last my head rose above the rail, I

saw that the giant was stealing toward the unconscious man in the

deck-chair, creeping forward with a stealthy swiftness in the shadow of

the binnacle. The lantern, flickering in gusts of wind, cast a dim

yellow light on the scene. Then my hand slipped on the wet rail, and I

fell thumping to the deck.

I was on my feet in an instant, but the man in the chair was quicker

still. It was Schmidt, and his senses must have been keen as those of

a savage, for his eye was on me before I had taken a step, and the

rifle came to his shoulder with a snap. In the same instant Fatu

leaped at him from behind the binnacle, springing like a monstrous

cat--but the spring was a breath too late. I saw a bright tongue of

flame, heard a crashing report, and felt a great blow on my leg--a

shock that spun my body about and sent me sprawling to the deck. I lay

there sick and numb, yet keenly alive to every detail of the scene that

followed: a swift drama stamped indelibly on my memory.

Fatu seized the rifle with a single mighty wrench, tore it from

Schmidt's hands and sent it flying overboard, then his arms closed

about the German's body. Schmidt was a very strong and active man.

His foot went out behind the leg of his antagonist; he twisted his body

with the movement of a skilled wrestler, and the pair came crashing to

the deck. But Fatu's grip never relaxed and I knew that in the hug of

those mighty arms Schmidt's moments of consciousness were numbered. He

seemed to realize it too, and his right hand, free from the elbow down,

began to move painfully toward the holster at his belt, where I saw the

gleam of an ivory pistol-butt. Then I heard my uncle's axe thundering

at the stateroom door, and the shouts of the divers, climbing over the

bows.

I raised my eyes, hoping to see the natives running aft. I glanced

back at the wrestlers and saw Raita there beside them--a slender,

crouching figure in white, her face framed in waves of dusky hair. She

had drawn Schmidt's revolver in the nick of time, and held it cocked in

her hand.

But Kwala, the black savage, who must have been sleeping on the forward

hatch, still had a part to play. In the second while Raita crouched

there, fiercely seeking her chance to kill, there was another streak of

flame, and the report of another rifle-shot. The girl sank down on the

deck. I saw the shock-headed savage blinking in the lamplight while a

wisp of smoke eddied from the muzzle of his Winchester. Then, with

fierce shouts and a rush of bare feet on deck, the divers were on him,

and he went down in a smother of brown arms and legs.

For an instant, Raita lay where she had fallen, but though she was

dying, hatred of the German gave strength for the last act of her life.

"Guk!" I heard her exclaim with a weak fierceness, as her hand went out

to take up the pistol a second time. By chance it had not gone off

when she had dropped it. With a wavering hand she aimed it at

Schmidt's temple and pulled the trigger. A third shot rang out above

the tumult--Schmidt's body quivered and relaxed--Fatu rose slowly to

his feet.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a man standing at the companionway.

It was Rairi, an expression of angry astonishment on his handsome,

sullen face.

He glanced swiftly about him, seemed to arrive at a decision, and

bounded across the deck. Before I could cry out, he was over the rail

and into the lagoon.

The appearance of my uncle, dressed in a scarlet waistcloth and

brandishing an axe, smothered the shout on my lips.

"Eh, Fatu!" he cried, as his eye fell on the gigantic figure of the

mate. "Have you got them safe? Where's Charlie?"

"Here!" I said in a weak voice, and next moment he was bending over me.

"Schmidt shot me in the leg. He's dead, I think, and so is that poor

girl. Ofai and the divers have the black man--look--they're tying him

now! And Rairi--he dove over the side a second before you came on

deck! Quick! Send someone after him!"

At my words Fatu sprang away to lower a boat. When my uncle had made

sure that Schmidt and the woman were dead and that the black was safely

bound, he took me in his arms and carried me below to dress my wound.

He laid me on the lounge in the saloon, turned up the lamp and bent

over my wounded leg, his face wearing an expression I had never seen.

Then he straightened his back with a great sigh of relief.

"Well, old fellow," he said, patting my bare shoulder, "you've given me

a scare! But you're not badly hurt: the bullet has passed through the

muscle of your thigh without touching the bone. Hurts like the deuce,

eh? That won't last long--we'll have you on foot within a month!"

He made me drink a glass of brandy, the first I had tasted: burning

stuff that made me cough and ran through my veins like fire. I was

weak from loss of blood, and when he had staunched the bleeding and

bandaged the wound with wet compresses, I fell into an uneasy sleep.

It was later that I was told of the happenings of that night: how one

of the divers swam ashore to tell the people that Seroni was free; how

a great fire was built on the beach and a fleet of canoes put off to

swarm about the Tara; and how her decks were crowded with brown men and

their women and children, all eager to shake my uncle's hand. It was a

night of rejoicing. A fire was built in the galley to brew huge pots

of tea, and cases of bully beef and ship biscuit were opened on deck.

The morning found me feverish and in pain with the stiffening of my

wound. Old Maruia had installed herself in my stateroom. The season

was over, she declared; she had earned enough for one year, and now she

was going to nurse me till I was well. I was eating the gruel she had

prepared, when I looked up and saw my uncle standing in the splintered

doorway, a long cigar in his mouth.

"It's tough luck to be laid up this way!" he remarked, "Hurts, eh? It

will for a few days. But you've a first-class nurse; I reckon she'll

have you in a steamer-chair inside of a fortnight! I didn't know how

many friends you had ashore--the whole lot of them were asking after

you last night--Eh, Maruia, don't let him move that leg!

"About Rairi," he went on--"he got clean away. A Paumotu boy in the

water on a dark night is a hard proposition to catch! We don't know

which way he swam, of course; we'll search the two islands on the east

side of the lagoon to-day. I'm leaving now; the boats will follow

along the beach to the pass and meet us there to-night. With fifteen

men we'll be able to comb the bush so that a dog couldn't pass us! If

we don't get him to-day, we'll try the west side to-morrow--You've

guessed why I'm going to so much trouble? Yes, he's gotten away with

your pearls!

"This morning, when the excitement was over, I made an inventory of the

things in the safe. The door was open; Schmidt had left everything in

place, only taking the precaution to lock the inner door. I found the

key in his pocket. He never knew about the Twins--I told you how I saw

Rairi steal them under his eyes. I was losing hope of coming out of

this affair so well. I owe you a lot, old man; I'll try to repay part

of it by getting your pearls for you. We'll catch Rairi, never fear!

Schmidt and the girl were buried this morning. He was a man, that

German, though he had the morals of a wolf! It's odd--but there was

something I almost liked about him--It takes courage to play a game

like his, and he might have succeeded if he'd been a little less

contemptuous of the natives he's abused so long. I wonder who he

really was! I'm sorry the girl was killed--I would have sent her home.

She couldn't have been more than twenty, poor child--a forlorn way to

die. The black is in irons aboard the other schooner, where he's not

popular with the crew!"

When my uncle had gone I sent a man ashore for Marama, and presently he

was installed in the upper berth, a mass of bandages about his swollen

feet. It was good to see my friend once more.

"I do not know where Rairi is now," he said, when Maruia had left us to

smoke her cigarette on deck, "but if he was barefoot when he went

overboard, he will be in no shape to run away! Aué! That dry coral is

sharp underfoot! When I escaped from the Cholita, I had one thought in

mind; to get to Seroni quickly, to warn him and bring help to you. I

landed close to the village of the copra-makers and there was an old

canoe on the beach, but when I took thought, I saw that the day would

break before I reached the Tara, and that I would run a risk of being

picked up again by that bearded captain who is now dead, so I traveled

the length of the western island afoot. The sun was high when the time

came to swim, and I was faint with pain and loss of blood--the coral

cuts deep! If I had been stronger I would have gone directly to the

Tara, for I had no suspicion that Rairi's boat had come to her in the

night. Fatu was the first man I saw on shore; he told me of the

shooting, of Ivi's wound, and how Seroni was a prisoner on his own

schooner. All that day I lay in great pain, and my head was light with

the sun."

At midday Maruia dressed our wounds and brought up food, and we dozed

through the long warm afternoon. It was evening when my uncle returned

with his weary men. They had scoured the eastern islands from end to

end without finding so much as a footprint.

Next day, when they searched the long island on the western side of the

lagoon, the story was the same, though one of the divers claimed to

have found the half obliterated tracks of a man on a stretch of muddy

beach. That night my uncle went to bed with scarcely a word; I could

see that he was discouraged, mystified, and very tired. Marama and I

were silent for a long time after the others had gone to bed. Finally

the native boy spoke.

"Are you asleep?" he asked in his own tongue.

"No," I whispered back; "I lie here thinking."

"And I too. Listen, for there is something in my mind. First of all,

know that Rairi is not a stranger on this land of Iriatai. His mother

was a woman of the island--one of the wild people the French soldiers

came to take away. And when he was a boy he came here to labor at the

copra-making, with the woman who lived here before Seroni's coming.

There are true words! Knowing all this, I have tried to put myself in

his place. He has our pearls--pearls of great value, for which a man

would endure hardships and long months of waiting. The question in his

mind must be: 'Where shall I hide myself till the schooners are gone

and I can steal a canoe to chance a passage to the nearest land?'

Where, indeed? The three islands about the lagoon are long, but they

are flat and narrow. The bush is thick in places, but not too thick to

be searched as one searches for a dropped fishhook in a canoe. Where,

then? Listen, and I will tell you--in the Cave of the Shark! Is it

not possible that in his boyhood Rairi found the cavern even as we

found it, or that the woman Turia showed it to him as an ancient sacred

place? He would believe that no other man on the island knew of it;

that he might lie hidden there for months, stealing out by night to

catch fish and to gather coconuts for food and drink. I tell you that

the thought of losing our pearls has weighed like a lump of lead on my

stomach, but now I feel hope!"

When my uncle had returned that evening, discouraged and empty-handed,

I had felt the full bitterness of disappointment--the hopeless collapse

of all my dreams. After all, our hopes had been absurd; a three or

four mile swim at night was a risky business, even for a native.

Perhaps Rairi had been seized with cramps; perhaps a roving shark had

picked him up. In reality, the chances were against his being alive.

But now, as the possibility of the cave grew large in my mind, I could

scarcely wait for the morning, to tell my uncle of Marama's idea.

Eight bells struck. It was midnight, and the soft breathing in the

upper berth told me that Marama was asleep. He had a wholesome lack of

nerves, and to him the loss of the pearls meant no more than a passing

disappointment. In his eyes, money was not a thing that mattered

greatly--if one had none of it, one did without; if one's pockets were

full, it was pleasant to spend. I envied him, for with me it was far

different.

Hour after hour I lay there, wakeful with anxiety and the fever of my

wound, while the round ship's clock in the saloon struck off the bells.

The glimmer of dawn was in the stateroom when at last I fell asleep.

Maruia woke us with a tray of breakfast, steaming hot from the galley.

The sun was high, and glancing through the door, I could see my uncle,

bending over some papers at his table. My head was heavy with lack of

sleep, but the fever seemed gone and the pain in my leg diminished. I

called to Uncle Harry and he rose at the sound of my voice.

"Well, boys," he said, smiling in at us, with a hand on either side of

the doorway, "had a good night? I was for letting you sleep, but the

old lady thought it was time you were eating breakfast." I told him

what Marama had suggested the night before, and his eyes lit up with a

brilliant gleam of interest.

"I believe you've hit it!" he exclaimed. "That's the one place we

haven't searched. I remember now Schmidt's saying that, as a boy,

Rairi had lived on Iriatai. I lay awake half the night puzzling over

this business--I was beginning to believe that the man must have been

taken by a shark. But we must waste no time; I'm off now for a look at

this cave of yours. Wish me good luck!"

The hours of that day dragged past with interminable slowness. I grew

depressed as time went on: perhaps we had been unduly sanguine the

night before; the thread supporting our hopes was a slender one, after

all. Even if Rairi were found, he might have lost the pearls or hidden

them. Marama laughed at my fears, refusing to share in my renewed

depression. At noon the old woman brought us lunch and we ate with

good appetites, for by now we were on the way to recovery. Afterward,

when she had cleared the things away, I fell into a dreamless and

refreshing sleep.

It was late afternoon when I awoke. There was a hail from the deck and

the sound of a boat, bumping against the schooner's side. Next moment

my uncle ran down the companionway and burst into our stateroom, a

smile on his lips and in the dark brilliance of his eyes. Without a

word he placed in my hands a small tin box--a box that I had seen

before. I opened it with a beating heart, and there, side by side in

their nest of damp cotton-wool, were the Marama Twins! The native boy,

gazing down over the side of his berth, gave a shrill whoop of joy.

"It was a tame affair," remarked my uncle, when he had answered our

first rapid questions, but your cave is certainly a curious place. We

had no difficulty in finding the entrance. I led the way in, with

Fatu, Ofai, and a couple of others close behind. Whew! That's a bit

of a swim before you can come up to blow! I had warned the men to make

no noise; it was possible that Rairi might have clung to the

six-shooter I had seen at his belt, and good ammunition is almost

waterproof. Presently, as my eyes grew accustomed to the dim light, I

made out the idol and the heathen altar, and then, on the ledge a

little to one side, the huddled figure of a man. It was Rairi--his

eyes were open and he had been watching us all the time. He's a plucky

scoundrel; when I was standing over him wondering why he had not moved,

he shook his head and grinned at me as he made an effort to hold up his

right arm, blackened and horribly swollen out of shape. 'I glad you

come!' he said in a weak voice. He was burning with fever.

"Then he told me what had happened. Swimming across the lagoon in the

dark, he had run squarely on a patch of the purple coral, the poisonous

kind that cuts like a razor-edge. He managed to get to the cave before

the wounds stiffened, but next morning, when daylight began to appear

through the cranny in the rock, he realized that it was all up with him

unless help came. Both legs and his right arm are frightfully

infected--I'm not sure that we can pull him through. Well, if he dies,

it will save the Government from supporting him in jail! The pearls

were in the pocket of his dungarees--he handed them to me of his own

accord. We had the deuce of a time getting him out to the boat; he'd

have been drowned if Fatu hadn't been along!"