NO THOROUGHFARE
It would be difficult to tell in words the exaltation of spirit which
possessed Kenneth Blair at the brave show the new order of things was
making in these Dark Islands of his choice. It was a beginning after
his own heart, and he rejoiced in it greatly.
I can imagine what he must have looked like as he went about his
Master's business--clad always in white from head to foot, and carrying
always that high look of his, blazing with enthusiasm and the mighty
joy of life, which caught the eye and held it. Kekera--White Fire--the
brown men often called him, and he looked it to the life.
He felt things growing under his hand, and his heart was full. A
beginning of beginnings and visible growth--what more could the soul of
man desire?
Domestic concerns were prospering also. Mary Stuart had the
satisfaction of her heart in a little son, and Kenni-Kenni and Alivani
crawled neck and neck races on the white beach together. The schools
were full, for the teaching was so sheer a delight that the wriggling
brown bodies and glancing black eyes felt a day missed a day lost. If
ever learning came without tears it did to these. They were actually
beginning to use English words now and again in their talk and play--by
way of showing off at first, indeed, but presently as a matter of
course. And the larger children, their fathers and mothers, were
imbibing new ideas of all kinds at a revolutionary rate. They were
even beginning to put theirs into "Kown im!" and to show some knowledge
of what the words meant.
And so far there had been no further disturbance from the outside; but
they were always on the look-out for it, and it came, and in the
expected shape.
The Dark Islands lie far out of the ordinary track of commerce. For
that very reason, when once discovered, they offered unusual
inducements to such as found the usual fields too small, and too hot,
for their peculiar forms of immorality. The outposts of civilisation,
such as it is, have not infrequently been pushed forward by individuals
whom civilisation could no longer tolerate in its midst. It was such a
one who came out of his way--and incidentally out of the way of some
who ardently desired to lay hands on him--to bring the amenities of
commerce and civilisation to the Dark Islands.
Old Maru, and his son Kahili, and the other hostages to law and order,
had returned to their homes full to the brim of new ideas and great
intentions, and Blair reposed great hopes in them.
He and Cathie, on one of their usual rounds of the islands in the
_Torch_, came sailing round Kanele Head one day and were surprised to
find a ship at anchor in the bay.
"Ah!" broke from them both at the sight.
"So that's come," said Cathie. "Bound to sooner or later. Nip it
tight, sir, is my advice."
He gave some orders to the mate, and they went ashore.
A burly individual in sailorly garb came down the beach from Maru's
house to meet them. He was stout and evil-faced, with small blue eyes
and tangled hay-coloured beard and moustache, and the roll in his walk
seemed too pronounced to come entirely from much walking of slippery
decks.
[Illustration: A burly individual in sailorly garb came down the beach.]
"Morning," he said curtly. "Traders?"
"No, sir. Missionaries in charge."
"Gee-whilikins!"
"Yes, very much so," and Blair pulled out his watch. The man needed no
investigation. His character was written all over him. "It is now
nine o'clock. I will give you till half-past ten to clear out of here.
If your anchor is not up by that time you will take the consequences.
Understand?"
"Say, have you bought this island, mister?" gaped the other.
"Yes, from the devil and all his works, so you clear out. It is now
two minutes past nine, and you've got eighty-eight minutes left."
"Well, I'm----"
"You will be if you don't stir your stumps."
"And suppos'n I say I'll be hanged if I go."
"I should consider it not unlikely. You certainly will if you stay."
"Well, I _am_----! Was it _missionaries_ you said?"
"That's what I said."
"Very well, then," said the invader, pulling himself together, "I'll
see you eternally annihilated first." That was not his exact
expression, but it is printable and will suffice.
"Eighty-six minutes left," said Blair quietly.
Captain Cathie waved his hat three times to the _Torch_, and Long Tom's
angry bellow rolled up into the hills and lined the side of the trader
with curious faces.
"_Missionaries_! Well, I _am_----" and he looked at them, and then at
the _Torch_ with the cloud of blue-white smoke drifting slowly away
from her deck, and then turned and humped his shoulders and went back
the way he had come, and Blair and Cathie followed him.
They were all fast asleep at Maru's house, and not likely to waken in a
hurry, if the empty rum bottles scattered about were anything to go by.
There were some opened cases of trade lying about, and the scraps and
remnants of a feast--in addition to the inert forms of old Maru and his
wife, and Kahili and his wife, and some of their people.
"Eighty minutes!" said Blair grimly, as he looked round on this undoing
of his work.
"Say, mister, couldn't we come to some arrangement?" began the trader.
"Certainly! The arrangement is that you up anchor and away
inside--seventy-nine minutes," with a glance at his watch.
"I guess you'll pay for this 'fore you're done, mister. I'm an
American citizen."
"Sorry to hear it."
"And an American citizen don't stand bein' fired out like this and no
reasons given--not by a long sight!"
"There are our reasons," said Blair, pointing to the heavy sleepers,
"and there are yours," and he pointed to the half-emptied case of rum.
"Seventy-eight minutes more!"
The American citizen looked him over for a moment but found no hope of
amelioration in his face.
"Well, I'm----" and he turned to the door and whistled shrilly to his
ship, and presently a boat came slouchily across to the shore.
"Carry them things aboard," he ordered, and saw it done, and then
followed his men into the boat.
Then he stood up in the stern and delivered himself luridly on
missionaries in general, and on this new kind, as represented by Blair
and Cathie, in particular.
"You'll hear of me again, my sons, sure as my name's Hartford Crawley.
Yes, by thunder, you will, and don't you forget it!" was his
valediction with threatening fist, and they could hear him cursing all
the way to the ship.
Blair and Cathie returned to the _Torch_. At half-past ten Long Tom
thundered a reminder to Mr. Crawley that his time was up, and before
the echoes died away, the trader's anchor was apeak and his sails were
dropping sulkily to the breeze.
He headed slowly out to sea, and was surprised to find the _Torch_ do
the same.
He took a notion towards the south. Long Tom barked angrily at him.
He tried a move towards the north. Long Tom barked again. Due west
was his course, and they would permit him no other.
All day long the _Torch_ followed him like a sheep dog, and at night
drew in so close that they could hear Mr. Crawley still swearing at
large. Fortunately, the moon was almost at the full, and he had no
chance of slipping away in the dark. For three days they dogged him
and kept him to his course. Then they ranged up within speaking
distance and delivered their final word, "These islands are not open to
traders. If you ever return you do so at your peril." Then they
turned and laid their course for Kanele.
Arbitrary action, undoubtedly, but Kenneth Blair was the last man in
the world to shirk what he deemed his duty from any fear of possible
after consequences.
Maru and the rest were in their right minds when they got back to the
island. They were full of excuses and explanations, but Blair said
little to them beyond emphasising the fact that these were the men he
had warned them against, and that their coming would make for evil
times among them. And old Maru, in the keen recollection of the very
bad head he had had the day after the trader's supper party was
disposed to think he was right.