One day Ned Burr, a fellow trader, walked slowly up the path to my
station, and with a friendly nod sat down and watched intently as, with
native assistance, I set about salting some pork. Ned lived thirty
miles from my place, on a little island at the entrance to the lagoon.
He was a prosperous man, and only drank under the pressure of the
monotony caused by the non-arrival of a ship to buy his produce. He
would then close his store, and, aided by a number of friendly male
natives, start on a case of gin. But never a woman went into Ned's
house, though many visited the store, where Ned bought their produce,
paid for it in trade or cash, and sent them off, after treating them on
a strictly business basis.
Now, the Marshall Island women much resented this. Since Ned's wife had
died, ten years previously, the women, backed by the chiefs, had made
most decided, but withal diplomatic, assaults upon his celibacy. The
old men of his village had respectfully and repeatedly reminded him
that his state of singleness was not a direct slight to themselves as
leading men alone. If he refused to marry again he surely would not
cast such a reflection upon the personal characters of some two or
three hundred young girls as to refuse a few of them the position of
honorary wives PRO TEM., or until he found one whom he might think
worthy of higher honours. But the slow-thinking, methodical trader only
opened a bottle of gin, gave them fair words and a drink all round, and
absolutely declined to open any sort of matrimonial negotiations.
* * * * *
"I'm come to hev some talk with you when you've finished saltin'," he
said, as he rose and meditatively prodded a junk of meat with his
forefinger.
"Right, old man," I said. "I'll come now," and we went into the big
room and sat down.
"Air ye game ter come and see me get married?" he asked, looking away
past me, through the open door, to where the surf thundered and tumbled
on the outer reef.
"Ned," I said solemnly, "I know you don't joke, so you must mean it. Of
course I will. I'm sure all of us fellows will be delighted to hear
you're going to get some nice little CARAJZ [an unmarried girl] to lighten
up that big house of yours over there. Who's the girl, Ned?"
"Le-jennabon."
"Whew!" I said, "why, she's the daughter of the biggest chief on Arhnu.
I didn't think any white man could get her, even if he gave her people
a boat-load of dollars as a wedding-gift."
"Well, no," said Ned, stroking his beard meditatively, "I suppose I
SHOULD feel a bit set up; but two years ago her people said that,
because I stood to them in the matter of some rifles when they had
trouble with King Jibberick, I could take her. She was rather young
then, any way; but I've been over to Arhnu several times, and I've had
spies out, and damn me if I ever could hear a whisper agin' her. I'm
told for sure that her father and uncles would ha' killed any one that
came after her. So I'm a-goin' to take her and chance it."
"Ned," I said, "you know your own affairs and these people better than
I do. Yet are you really going to pin your faith on a Marshall Island
girl? You are not like any of us traders. You see, we know what to
expect sometimes, and our morals are a lot worse than those of the
natives. And it doesn't harrow our feelings much if any one of us has
to divorce a wife and get another; it only means a lot of new dresses
and some guzzling, drinking, and speechifying, and some bother in
teaching the new wife how to make bread. But your wife that died was a
Manhikian--another kind. They don't breed that sort here in the
Marshalls. Think of it twice, Ned, before you marry her."
* * * * *
The girl was a beauty. There are many like her in that far-away cluster
of coral atolls. That she was a chief's child it was easy to see; the
abject manner in which the commoner natives always behaved themselves
in her presence showed their respect for Le-jennabon. Of course we all
got very jolly. There were half a dozen of us traders there, and we
were, for a wonder, all on friendly terms. Le-jennabon sat on a fine
mat in the big room, and in a sweetly dignified manner received the
wedding-gifts. One of our number, Charlie de Buis, though in a state of
chronic poverty, induced by steadfast adherence to square gin at five
dollars a case, made his offerings--a gold locket covering a woman's
miniature, a heavy gold ring, and a pair of fat, cross-bred Muscovy
ducks. The bride accepted them with a smile.
"Who is this?" she asked, looking at the portrait--"your white wife?"
"No," replied the bashful Charles, "another man's. That's why I give it
away, curse her! But the ducks I bred myself on Madurocaron."
* * * * *
A month or two passed. Then, on one Sunday afternoon, about dusk, I saw
Ned's whale-boat coming over across the lagoon. I met him on the beach.
Trouble was in his face, yet his hard, impassive features were such
that only those who knew him well could discover it. Instead of
entering the house, he silently motioned me to come further along the
sand, where we reached an open spot clear of coco palms. Ned sat down
and filled his pipe. I waited patiently. The wind had died away, and
the soft swish and swirl of the tide as the ripples lapped the beach
was the only sound that broke upon the silence of the night.
* * * * *
"You were right. But it doesn't matter now ..." He laughed softly. "A
week ago a canoe-party arrived from Ebon. There were two chiefs. Of
course they came to my house to trade. They had plenty of money. There
were about a hundred natives belonging to them. The younger man was
chief of Likieb--a flash buck. The first day he saw Le-jennabon he had
a lot too much to say to her. I watched him. Next morning my
toddy-cutter came and told me that the flash young chief from Likieb
had stuck him up and drank my toddy, and had said something about my
wife--you know how they talk in parables when they mean mischief. I
would have shot him for the toddy racket, but I was waitin' for a
better reason.... The old hag who bosses my cook-shed said to me as
she passed, 'Go and listen to a song of cunning over there'--pointing
to a clump of bread-fruit trees. I walked over--quietly. Le-jennabon
and her girls were sitting down on mats. Outside the fence was a lad
singing this--in a low voice--
"'Marriage hides the tricks of lovers.'
"Le-jennabon and the girls bent their heads and said nothing. Then the
devil's imp commenced again--
"'Marriage hides the tricks of lovers.'
"Some of the girls laughed and whispered to Le-jennabon. She shook her
head, and looked around timorously. Plain enough, wasn't it? Presently
the boy creeps up to the fence, and drops over a wreath of yellow
blossoms. The girls laughed. One of them picked it up, and offered it
to Le-jennabon. She waved it away. Then, again, the cub outside sang
softly--
"'Marriage hides the tricks of lovers,'
"and they all laughed again, and Le-jennabon put the wreath on her head,
and I saw the brown hide of the boy disappear among the trees."
* * * * *
I went back to the house. I wanted to make certain she would follow the
boy first. After a few minutes some of Le-jennabon's women came to me,
and said they were going to the weather side of the island--it's narrer
across, as you know--to pick flowers. I said all right, to go, as I was
going to do something else, so couldn't come with them. Then I went to
the trade-room and got what I wanted. The old cook-hag showed me the
way they had gone, and grinned when she saw what I had slid down inside
my pyjamas. I cut round and got to the place. I had a right good idea
where it was.
* * * * *
"The girls soon came along the path, and then stopped and talked to
Le-jennabon and pointed to a clump of bread-fruit trees standing in an
arrow-root patch. She seemed frightened--but went. Half-way through she
stopped, and then I saw my beauty raise his head from the ground and
march over to her. I jest giv' him time ter enjoy a smile, and then I
stepped out and toppled him over. Right through his carcase--them
Sharp's rifle make a hole you could put your fist into.
"The girl dropped too--sheer funk. Old Lebauro, the cook, slid through
the trees and stood over him, and said, 'U, GUK! He's a fine-made man,'
and gave me her knife; and then I collared Le-jennabon, and----"
"For God's sake, Ned, don't tell me you killed her too!"
He shook his head slowly.
"No, I couldn't hurt HER. But I held her with one hand, she feeling
dead and cold, like a wet deck-swab; then the old cook-woman undid my
flash man's long hair, and, twining her skinny old claws in it, pulled
it taut, while I sawed at the chap's neck with my right hand. The knife
was heavy and sharp, and I soon got the job through. Then I gave the
thing to Le-jennabon to carry.
* * * * *
"I made her walk in front of me. Every time she dropped the head I
slewed her round and made her lift it up again. And the old cook-devil
trotted astern o' us. When we came close to the town, I says to
Le-jennabon:
"'Do you want to live?'
"'Yes,' says she, in a voice like a whisper.
"'Then sing,' says I, 'sing loud--
"'Marriage hides the tricks of lovers,'
And she sang it in a choky kind of quaver.
"There was a great rush o' people ter see the procession. They stood in
a line on both sides of the path, and stared and said nothin'.
"Presently we comes to where all the Likieb chief's people was
quartered. They knew the head and ran back for their rifles, but my
crowd in the village was too strong, and, o' course, sided with me, and
took away their guns. Then the crowd gathers round my place, and I
makes Le-jennabon hold up the head and sing again--sing that devil's
chant.
"'Listen,' I says to the people, 'listen to my wife singing a love
song.' Then I takes the thing, wet and bloody, and slings it into the
middle of the Likieb people, and gave Le-jennabon a shove and sent her
inside."
* * * * *
I was thinking what would be the best thing to say, and could only
manage "It's a bad business, Ned."
"Bad! That's where you're wrong," and, rising, Ned brushed the sand off
the legs of his pyjamas. "It's just about the luckiest thing as could
ha' happened. Ye see, it's given Le-jennabon a good idea of what may
happen to her if she ain't mighty correct. An' it's riz me a lot in the
esteem of the people generally as a man who hez business principles."