whenever there was cargo to be got, he wandered with his crazy old
schooner. The Kanakas have little love for work, and the laborious
Chinese, the cunning Japs, have taken the trade out of their hands. Her
father had a strip of land on which he grew taro and bananas and he had
a boat in which he went fishing. He was vaguely related to the mate of
the schooner, and it was he who took Captain Butler up to the shabby
little frame house to spend an idle evening. They took a bottle of
whisky with them and the ukalele. The captain was not a shy man and when
he saw a pretty girl he made love to her. He could speak the native
language fluently and it was not long before he had overcome the girl's
timidity. They spent the evening singing and dancing, and by the end of
it she was sitting by his side and he had his arm round her waist. It
happened that they were delayed on the island for several days and the
captain, at no time a man to hurry, made no effort to shorten his stay.
He was very comfortable in the snug little harbour and life was long. He
had a swim round his ship in the morning and another in the evening.
There was a chandler's shop on the water front where sailormen could get
a drink of whisky, and he spent the best part of the day there, playing
cribbage with the half-caste who owned it. At night the mate and he went
up to the house where the pretty girl lived and they sang a song or two
and told stories. It was the girl's father who suggested that he should
take her away with him. They discussed the matter in a friendly fashion,
while the girl, nestling against the captain, urged him by the pressure
of her hands and her soft, smiling glances. He had taken a fancy to her
and he was a domestic man. He was a little dull sometimes at sea and it
would be very pleasant to have a pretty little creature like that about
the old ship. He was of a practical turn too, and he recognised that it
would be useful to have someone around to darn his socks and look after
his linen. He was tired of having his things washed by a Chink who tore
everything to pieces; the natives washed much better, and now and then
when the captain went ashore at Honolulu he liked to cut a dash in a
smart duck suit. It was only a matter of arranging a price. The father
wanted two hundred and fifty dollars, and the captain, never a thrifty
man, could not put his hand on such a sum. But he was a generous one,
and with the girl's soft face against his, he was not inclined to
haggle. He offered to give a hundred and fifty dollars there and then
and another hundred in three months. There was a good deal of argument
and the parties could not come to any agreement that night, but the idea
had fired the captain, and he could not sleep as well as usual. He kept
dreaming of the lovely girl and each time he awoke it was with the
pressure of her soft, sensual lips on his. He cursed himself in the
morning because a bad night at poker the last time he was at Honolulu
had left him so short of ready money. And if the night before he had
been in love with the girl, this morning he was crazy about her.
"See here, Bananas," he said to the mate, "I've got to have that girl.
You go and tell the old man I'll bring the dough up to-night and she can
get fixed up. I figure we'll be ready to sail at dawn."
I have no idea why the mate was known by that eccentric name. He was
called Wheeler, but though he had that English surname there was not a
drop of white blood in him. He was a tall man, and well-made though
inclined to stoutness, but much darker than is usual in Hawaii. He was
no longer young, and his crisply curling, thick hair was grey. His upper
front teeth were cased in gold. He was very proud of them. He had a
marked squint and this gave him a saturnine expression. The captain, who
was fond of a joke, found in it a constant source of humour and
hesitated the less to rally him on the defect because he realised that
the mate was sensitive about it. Bananas, unlike most of the natives,
was a taciturn fellow and Captain Butler would have disliked him if it
had been possible for a man of his good nature to dislike anyone. He
liked to be at sea with someone he could talk to, he was a chatty,
sociable creature, and it was enough to drive a missionary to drink to
live there day after day with a chap who never opened his mouth. He did
his best to wake the mate up, that is to say, he chaffed him without
mercy, but it was poor fun to laugh by oneself, and he came to the
conclusion that, drunk or sober, Bananas was no fit companion for a
white man. But he was a good seaman and the captain was shrewd enough to
know the value of a mate he could trust. It was not rare for him to come
aboard, when they were sailing, fit for nothing but to fall into his
bunk, and it was worth something to know that he could stay there till
he had slept his liquor off, since Bananas could be relied on. But he
was an unsociable devil, and it would be a treat to have someone he
could talk to. That girl would be fine. Besides, he wouldn't be so
likely to get drunk when he went ashore if he knew there was a little
girl waiting for him when he came on board again.
He went to his friend the chandler and over a peg of gin asked him for a
loan. There were one or two useful things a ship's captain could do for
a ship's chandler, and after a quarter of an hour's conversation in low
tones (there is no object in letting all and sundry know your business),
the captain crammed a wad of notes in his hip-pocket, and that night,
when he went back to his ship, the girl went with him.
What Captain Butler, seeking for reasons to do what he had already made
up his mind to, had anticipated, actually came to pass. He did not give
up drinking, but he ceased to drink to excess. An evening with the
boys, when he had been away from town two or three weeks, was pleasant
enough, but it was pleasant too to get back to his little girl; he
thought of her, sleeping so softly, and how, when he got into his cabin
and leaned over her, she would open her eyes lazily and stretch out her
arms for him: it was as good as a full hand. He found he was saving
money, and since he was a generous man he did the right thing by the
little girl: he gave her some silver-backed brushes for her long hair,
and a gold chain, and a reconstructed ruby for her finger. Gee, but it
was good to be alive.
A year went by, a whole year, and he was not tired of her yet. He was
not a man who analysed his feelings, but this was so surprising that it
forced itself upon his attention. There must be something very wonderful
about that girl. He couldn't help seeing that he was more wrapped up in
her than ever, and sometimes the thought entered his mind that it might
not be a bad thing if he married her.
Then, one day the mate did not come in to dinner or to tea. Butler did
not bother himself about his absence at the first meal, but at the
second he asked the Chinese cook:
"Where's the mate? He no come tea?"
"No wantchee," said the Chink.
"He ain't sick?"
"No savvy."
Next day Bananas turned up again, but he was more sullen than ever, and
after dinner the captain asked the girl what was the matter with him.
She smiled and shrugged her pretty shoulders. She told the captain that
Bananas had taken a fancy to her and he was sore because she had told
him off. The captain was a good-humoured man and he was not of a jealous
nature; it struck him as exceeding funny that Bananas should be in love.
A man who had a squint like that had a precious poor chance. When tea
came round he chaffed him gaily. He pretended to speak in the air, so
that the mate should not be certain that he knew anything, but he dealt
him some pretty shrewd blows. The girl did not think him as funny as he
thought himself, and afterwards she begged him to say nothing more. He
was surprised at her seriousness. She told him he did not know her
people. When their passion was aroused they were capable of anything.
She was a little frightened. This was so absurd to him that he laughed
heartily.
"If he comes bothering round you, you just threaten to tell me. That'll
fix him."
"Better fire him, I think."
"Not on your sweet life. I know a good sailor when I see one. But if he
don't leave you alone I'll give him the worst licking he's ever had."
Perhaps the girl had a wisdom unusual in her sex. She knew that it was
useless to argue with a man when his mind was made up, for it only
increased his stubbornness, and she held her peace. And now on the
shabby schooner, threading her way across the silent sea, among those
lovely islands, was enacted a dark, tense drama of which the fat little
captain remained entirely ignorant. The girl's resistance fired Bananas
so that he ceased to be a man, but was simply blind desire. He did not
make love to her gently or gaily, but with a black and savage ferocity.
Her contempt now was changed to hatred and when he besought her she
answered him with bitter, angry taunts. But the struggle went on
silently, and when the captain asked her after a little while whether
Bananas was bothering her, she lied.
But one night, when they were in Honolulu, he came on board only just in
time. They were sailing at dawn. Bananas had been ashore, drinking some
native spirit, and he was drunk. The captain, rowing up, heard sounds
that surprised him. He scrambled up the ladder. He saw Bananas, beside
himself, trying to wrench open the cabin door. He was shouting at the
girl. He swore he would kill her if she did not let him in.
"What in hell are you up to?" cried Butler.
The mate let go the handle, gave the captain a look of savage hate, and
without a word turned away.
"Stop here. What are you doing with that door?"
The mate still did not answer. He looked at him with sullen, bootless
rage.
"I'll teach you not to pull any of your queer stuff with me, you dirty,
cross-eyed nigger," said the captain.
He was a good foot shorter than the mate and no match for him, but he
was used to dealing with native crews, and he had his knuckle-duster
handy. Perhaps it was not an instrument that a gentleman would use, but
then Captain Butler was not a gentleman. Nor was he in the habit of
dealing with gentlemen. Before Bananas knew what the captain was at, his
right arm had shot out and his fist, with its ring of steel, caught him
fair and square on the jaw. He fell like a bull under the pole-axe.
"That'll learn him," said the captain.
Bananas did not stir. The girl unlocked the cabin door and came out.
"Is he dead?"
"He ain't."
He called a couple of men and told them to carry the mate to his bunk.
He rubbed his hands with satisfaction and his round blue eyes gleamed
behind his spectacles. But the girl was strangely silent. She put her
arms round him as though to protect him from invisible harm.
It was two or three days before Bananas was on his feet again, and when
he came out of his cabin his face was torn and swollen. Through the
darkness of his skin you saw the livid bruise. Butler saw him slinking
along the deck and called him. The mate went to him without a word.
"See here, Bananas," he said to him, fixing his spectacles on his
slippery nose, for it was very hot. "I ain't going to fire you for this,
but you know now that when I hit, I hit hard. Don't forget it and don't
let me have any more funny business."
Then he held out his hand and gave the mate that good-humoured, flashing
smile of his which was his greatest charm. The mate took the
outstretched hand and twitched his swollen lips into a devilish grin.
The incident in the captain's mind was so completely finished that when
the three of them sat at dinner he chaffed Bananas on his appearance. He
was eating with difficulty and, his swollen face still more distorted by
pain, he looked truly a repulsive object.
That evening, when he was sitting on the upper deck, smoking his pipe, a
shiver passed through the captain.
"I don't know what I should be shiverin' for on a night like this," he
grumbled. "Maybe I've gotten a dose of fever. I've been feelin' a bit
queer all day."
When he went to bed he took some quinine, and next morning he felt
better, but a little washed out, as though he were recovering from a
debauch.
"I guess my liver's out of order," he said, and he took a pill.
He had not much appetite that day and towards evening he began to feel
very unwell. He tried the next remedy he knew, which was to drink two or
three hot whiskies, but that did not seem to help him much, and when in
the morning he surveyed himself in the glass he thought he was not
looking quite the thing.
"If I ain't right by the time we get back to Honolulu I'll just give Dr
Denby a call. He'll sure fix me up."
He could not eat. He felt a great lassitude in all his limbs. He slept
soundly enough, but he awoke with no sense of refreshment; on the
contrary he felt a peculiar exhaustion. And the energetic little man,
who could not bear the thought of lying in bed, had to make an effort to
force himself out of his bunk. After a few days he found it impossible
to resist the languor that oppressed him, and he made up his mind not to
get up.
"Bananas can look after the ship," he said. "He has before now."
He laughed a little to himself as he thought how often he had lain
speechless in his bunk after a night with the boys. That was before he
had his girl. He smiled at her and pressed her hand. She was puzzled and
anxious. He saw that she was concerned about him and tried to reassure
her. He had never had a day's illness in his life and in a week at the
outside he would be as right as rain.
"I wish you'd fired Bananas," she said. "I've got a feeling that he's at
the bottom of this."
"Damned good thing I didn't, or there'd be no one to sail the ship. I
know a good sailor when I see one." His blue eyes, rather pale now, with
the whites all yellow, twinkled. "You don't think he's trying to poison
me, little girl?"
She did not answer, but she had one or two talks with the Chinese cook,
and she took great care with the captain's food. But he ate little
enough now, and it was only with the greatest difficulty that she
persuaded him to drink a cup of soup two or three times a day. It was
clear that he was very ill, he was losing weight quickly, and his chubby
face was pale and drawn. He suffered no pain, but merely grew every day
weaker and more languid. He was wasting away. The round trip on this
occasion lasted about four weeks and by the time they came to Honolulu
the captain was a little anxious about himself. He had not been out of
his bed for more than a fortnight and really he felt too weak to get up
and go to the doctor. He sent a message asking him to come on board. The
doctor examined him, but could find nothing to account for his
condition. His temperature was normal.
"See here, Captain," he said, "I'll be perfectly frank with you. I don't
know what's the matter with you, and just seeing you like this don't
give me a chance. You come into the hospital so that we can keep you
under observation. There's nothing organically wrong with you, I know
that, and my impression is that a few weeks in hospital ought to put you
to rights."
"I ain't going to leave my ship."
Chinese owners were queer customers, he said; if he left his ship
because he was sick, his owner might fire him, and he couldn't afford to
lose his job. So long as he stayed where he was his contract
safe-guarded him, and he had a first-rate mate. Besides, he couldn't
leave his girl. No man could want a better nurse; if anyone could pull
him through she would. Every man had to die once and he only wished to
be left in peace. He would not listen to the doctor's expostulations,
and finally the doctor gave in.
"I'll write you a prescription," he said doubtfully, "and see if it does
you any good. You'd better stay in bed for a while."
"There ain't much fear of my getting up, doc," answered the captain. "I
feel as weak as a cat."
But he believed in the doctor's prescription as little as did the doctor
himself, and when he was alone amused himself by lighting his cigar with
it. He had to get amusement out of something, for his cigar tasted like
nothing on earth, and he smoked only to persuade himself that he was not
too ill to. That evening a couple of friends of his, masters of tramp
steamers, hearing he was sick came to see him. They discussed his case
over a bottle of whisky and a box of Philippine cigars. One of them
remembered how a mate of his had been taken queer just like that and not
a doctor in the United States had been able to cure him. He had seen in
the paper an advertisement of a patent medicine, and thought there'd be
no harm in trying it. That man was as strong as ever he'd been in his
life after two bottles. But his illness had given Captain Butler a
lucidity which was new and strange, and while they talked he seemed to
read their minds. They thought he was dying. And when they left him he
was afraid.
The girl saw his weakness. This was her opportunity. She had been urging
him to let a native doctor see him, and he had stoutly refused; but now
she entreated him. He listened with harassed eyes. He wavered. It was
very funny that the American doctor could not tell what was the matter
with him. But he did not want her to think that he was scared. If he let
a damned nigger come along and look at him, it was to comfort _her_. He
told her to do what she liked.
The native doctor came the next night. The captain was lying alone,
half awake, and the cabin was dimly lit by an oil lamp. The door was
softly opened and the girl came in on tip-toe. She held the door open
and some one slipped in silently behind her. The captain smiled at this
mystery, but he was so weak now, the smile was no more than a glimmer in
his eyes. The doctor was a little, old man, very thin and very wrinkled,
with a completely bald head, and the face of a monkey. He was bowed and
gnarled like an old tree. He looked hardly human, but his eyes were very
bright, and in the half darkness, they seemed to glow with a reddish
light. He was dressed filthily in a pair of ragged dungarees, and the
upper part of his body was naked. He sat down on his haunches and for
ten minutes looked at the captain. Then he felt the palms of his hands
and the soles of his feet. The girl watched him with frightened eyes. No
word was spoken. Then he asked for something that the captain had worn.
The girl gave him the old felt hat which the captain used constantly and
taking it he sat down again on the floor, clasping it firmly with both
hands; and rocking backwards and forwards slowly he muttered some
gibberish in a very low tone.
At last he gave a little sigh and dropped the hat. He took an old pipe
out of his trouser pocket and lit it. The girl went over to him and sat
by his side. He whispered something to her, and she started violently.
For a few minutes they talked in hurried undertones, and then they stood
up. She gave him money and opened the door for him. He slid out as
silently as he had come in. Then she went over to the captain and leaned
over him so that she could speak into his ear.
"It's an enemy praying you to death."
"Don't talk fool stuff, girlie," he said impatiently.
"It's truth. It's God's truth. That's why the American doctor couldn't
do anything. Our people can do that. I've seen it done. I thought you
were safe because you were a white man."
"I haven't an enemy."
"Bananas."
"What's he want to pray me to death for?"
"You ought to have fired him before he had a chance."
"I guess if I ain't got nothing more the matter with me than Bananas'
hoodoo I shall be sitting up and taking nourishment in a very few days."
She was silent for a while and she looked at him intently.
"Don't you know you're dying?" she said to him at last.
That was what the two skippers had thought, but they hadn't said it. A
shiver passed across the captain's wan face.
"The doctor says there ain't nothing really the matter with me. I've
only to lie quiet for a bit and I shall be all right."
She put her lips to his ear as if she were afraid that the air itself
might hear.
"You're dying, dying, dying. You'll pass out with the old moon."
"That's something to know."
"You'll pass out with the old moon unless Bananas dies before."
He was not a timid man and he had recovered already from the shock her
words, and still more her vehement, silent manner, had given him. Once
more a smile flickered in his eyes.
"I guess I'll take my chance, girlie."
"There's twelve days before the new moon."
There was something in her tone that gave him an idea.
"See here, my girl, this is all bunk. I don't believe a word of it. But
I don't want you to try any of your monkey tricks with Bananas. He ain't
a beauty, but he's a first-rate mate."
He would have said a good deal more, but he was tired out. He suddenly
felt very weak and faint. It was always at that hour that he felt worse.
He closed his eyes. The girl watched him for a minute and then slipped
out of the cabin. The moon, nearly full, made a silver pathway over the
dark sea. It shone from an unclouded sky. She looked at it with terror,
for she knew that with its death the man she loved would die. His life
was in her hands. She could save him, she alone could save him, but the
enemy was cunning, and she must be cunning too. She felt that someone
was looking at her, and without turning, by the sudden fear that seized
her, knew that from the shadow the burning eyes of the mate were fixed
upon her. She did not know what he could do; if he could read her
thoughts she was defeated already, and with a desperate effort she
emptied her mind of all content. His death alone could save her lover,
and she could bring his death about. She knew that if he could be
brought to look into a calabash in which was water so that a reflection
of him was made, and the reflection were broken by hurtling the water,
he would die as though he had been struck by lightning; for the
reflection was his soul. But none knew better than he the danger, and he
could be made to look only by a guile which had lulled his least
suspicion. He must never think that he had an enemy who was on the watch
to cause his destruction. She knew what she had to do. But the time was
short, the time was terribly short. Presently she realised that the mate
had gone. She breathed more freely.
Two days later they sailed, and there were ten now before the new moon.
Captain Butler was terrible to see. He was nothing but skin and bone,
and he could not move without help. He could hardly speak. But she dared
do nothing yet. She knew that she must be patient. The mate was cunning,
cunning. They went to one of the smaller islands of the group and
discharged cargo, and now there were only seven days more. The moment
had come to start. She brought some things out of the cabin she shared
with the captain and made them into a bundle. She put the bundle in the
deck cabin where she and Bananas ate their meals, and at dinner time,
when she went in, he turned quickly and she saw that he had been looking
at it. Neither of them spoke, but she knew what he suspected. She was
making her preparations to leave the ship. He looked at her mockingly.
Gradually, as though to prevent the captain from knowing what she was
about, she brought everything she owned into the cabin, and some of the
captain's clothes, and made them all into bundles. At last Bananas could
keep silence no longer. He pointed to a suit of ducks.
"What are you going to do with that?" he asked.
She shrugged her shoulders.
"I'm going back to my island."
He gave a laugh that distorted his grim face. The captain was dying and
she meant to get away with all she could lay hands on.
"What'll you do if I say you can't take those things? They're the
captain's."
"They're no use to you," she said.
There was a calabash hanging on the wall. It was the very calabash I had
seen when I came into the cabin and which we had talked about. She took
it down. It was all dusty, so she poured water into it from the
water-bottle, and rinsed it with her fingers.
"What are you doing with that?"
"I can sell it for fifty dollars," she said.
"If you want to take it you'll have to pay me."
"What d'you want?"
"You know what I want."
She allowed a fleeting smile to play on her lips. She flashed a quick
look at him and quickly turned away. He gave a gasp of desire. She
raised her shoulders in a little shrug. With a savage bound he sprang
upon her and seized her in his arms. Then she laughed. She put her arms,
her soft, round arms, about his neck, and surrendered herself to him
voluptuously.
When the morning came she roused him out of a deep sleep. The early rays
of the sun slanted into the cabin. He pressed her to his heart. Then he
told her that the captain could not last more than a day or two, and the
owner wouldn't so easily find another white man to command the ship. If
Bananas offered to take less money he would get the job and the girl
could stay with him. He looked at her with love-sick eyes. She nestled
up against him. She kissed his lips, in the foreign way, in the way the
captain had taught her to kiss. And she promised to stay. Bananas was
drunk with happiness.
It was now or never.
She got up and went to the table to arrange her hair. There was no
mirror and she looked into the calabash, seeking for her reflection. She
tidied her beautiful hair. Then she beckoned to Bananas to come to her.
She pointed to the calabash.
"There's something in the bottom of it," she said.
Instinctively, without suspecting anything, Bananas looked full into the
water. His face was reflected in it. In a flash she beat upon it
violently, with both her hands, so that they pounded on the bottom and
the water splashed up. The reflection was broken in pieces. Bananas
started back with a sudden hoarse cry and he looked at the girl. She was
standing there with a look of triumphant hatred on her face. A horror
came into his eyes. His heavy features were twisted in agony, and with
a thud, as though he had taken a violent poison, he crumpled up on to
the ground. A great shudder passed through his body and he was still.
She leaned over him callously. She put her hand on his heart and then
she pulled down his lower eye-lid. He was quite dead.
She went into the cabin in which lay Captain Butler. There was a faint
colour in his cheeks and he looked at her in a startled way.
"What's happened?" he whispered.
They were the first words he had spoken for forty-eight hours.
"Nothing's happened," she said.
"I feel all funny."
Then his eyes closed and he fell asleep. He slept for a day and a night,
and when he awoke he asked for food. In a fortnight he was well.
It was past midnight when Winter and I rowed back to shore and we had
drunk innumerable whiskies and sodas.
"What do you think of it all?" asked Winter.