On the evening of the day that followed Hillary's stand-up fight at the
shanty he went off with Samuel Bilbao to visit Gabrielle's father.
"Must see the old man first, you know," said Ulysses, as he chuckled
over the immense possibilities that loomed before his all-embracing
vision. He saw money as well as wild adventure ahead: "A coastal native
town in New Guinea! A beautiful maiden stolen, hidden away, abducted by
a damned Macka Koo Rajah--and Samuel Bilbao hired to find her and pound
old Macka to dust--splendid!" he chuckled, as he walked on under the
palms, pulling his large viking-like moustachios.
Hillary glanced at the big man's flushed, happy face and thanked God
that such hearts still existed, that men with Herculean frames longed to
do unheard-of things quite outside the ordinary business of life.
Then, as Bilbao tugged his vandyke beard, chuckled and continued to roar
over his own thoughts, Hillary said: "Do be quiet; don't for heaven's
sake mention anything about your discarded queens and melancholy kings.
You know Everard has been an old sailor and he consequently knows what
men are." Then the apprentice added, in soft tones: "He might draw wrong
conclusions as to your character and not be willing to trust you, you
know."
The big face expressed massive disgust that such an ignoramus of a youth
should dare advise such a one as he.
Hillary only smiled at seeing that look. He had read Ulysses like a
book, and knew exactly how far to go.
"So here's where the old man's put up," suddenly said Bilbao, as they
stopped. They had arrived outside Everard's bungalow and Hillary softly
opened the door.
Old Everard struggled from his chair and immediately lit the oil lamp,
for it was nearly dark.
"Well, boy, 'eard anything about my Gabby?" he mumbled, as he struck
matches, never looking behind him, since he thought that Hillary had
returned alone. Then, getting no reply, he turned round and looked
straight into Samuel Bilbao's eyes. He stared at the giant sailorman for
quite ten seconds, as though a vision had suddenly come before him. Then
he said: "You!"
Bilbao stared also for ten seconds, then roared out: "By thunder, it's
you!"
"Who?" echoed Hillary's lips, as he surveyed the two men and wondered
what next was going to happen. The two men, Bilbao and old Everard, had
gripped hands!
It appeared that Samuel Bilbao had sailed as boatswain under Everard
when he had been chief mate of a full-rigged ship in the Australian
clipper line, about eleven years before.
Hillary almost cursed that sudden recognition as the two men rambled on,
and Bilbao shook his fist, bent himself double with glee and took
monstrous nips of rum and whisky as he discussed everything, of the past
and future, but the vital matter in hand.
But it turned out a good thing, for before the night grew old the big
sailor had lifted his hand to the roof and in a thunderous voice had
called all the tropic stars to witness that he would find Gabrielle and
scatter Rajah Koo Macka's dust to the four winds of heaven. He swore to
Everard and Hillary that he knew Macka (whether he really did know him
at that time was something that was never known for a certainty).
"I know him, the old heathen kidnapper!" he roared, as Hillary and old
Everard stared at the massive face with its vikingesque moustache stuck
out like spears from the corner of his grim mouth. "Seen 'im off
Tai-o-hae five years ago, when he abducted two princesses--twins--from O
le Mopiu's royal seraglio!"
It was marvellous the change of atmosphere Bilbao made in Gabrielle's
old home, as he thought over his plans, consulted his chart, ran his
finger down the degrees and murmured: "Easy as winking!" Indeed, he made
everything look so rosy that instead of Gabrielle's abduction being a
tragedy it appeared a blessing in disguise.
And it can be truthfully recorded that though Samuel Bilbao held the
advance of two hundred pounds in gold and notes in his mighty palm, and
said that he didn't like taking money from an old pal, he really _meant_
what he said. All the same, he gave a huge sigh of relief when he felt a
mass of gold coins and notes safe in his capacious pocket. But it must
again be admitted, in all fairness to Bilbao, that he could not go off
and hire a schooner for a voyage to the coast of New Guinea to search
for Gabrielle without some cash in hand.
After that little business matter was settled to the satisfaction of
both parties, Bilbao looked at the old man and said: "Ah, pal Everard,
she was a beautiful maid, well worth the money, this Gabrielle of
yours." Then he continued: "I had great pleasure in meeting the girl,
and introduced myself to her as she sat swinging on a bough in the
forest not far from here: and didn't she sing to me! Lord! I think the
girl fell madly in love with my handsome face. I little dreamed that I
was being passionately wooed by my old shipmate's daughter."
Everard at hearing this large contortion of the truth only looked
absently at the big man and said nothing. Then Ulysses said in a soft,
sympathetic voice: "Ah, pal Everard, I can easily imagine how ye loved
the gal, soothed her pretty face and made her love ye--eh, pal?"
"I did! I did!" wailed the distracted old man, his wretched heart
quaking as he looked for a moment into Bilbao's keen blue eyes and
dropped his own in shame.
Hillary, who had told Ulysses a good deal about Gabrielle's home life
while he was under the influence of about four whiskies that Ulysses
pressed upon him, gave his comrade a hasty pinch in the leg as he
wondered what Bilbao might say next.
Ulysses only replied by a ponderous wink, right in front of Everard's
eyes too! But the ex-sailor was too far gone to notice that. It took a
good deal of persuasion to stop him from going on the voyage to New
Guinea himself, if they were successful in hiring a schooner. "You'd
better stay at home; the poor girl may return while we're away at sea,
and what would she say at missing her dear old father," said Bilbao
sympathetically.
The big man looked at the apprentice and gave another wink, and said:
"We don't want no old pa with us, eh?"
Hillary responded by a vacant look; then, seeing Ulysses's broad,
friendly smile, lifted his hand and smacked the giant on the back
uproariously. Alas! even the apprentice was under the influence of
drink.
Gabrielle's father sat huddled in his arm-chair; his wooden leg shivered
pathetically as he mumbled: "So she's on the _Bird of Paradise_, my
daughter, my Gabby."
As for Ulysses, when he heard the name of the ship he smacked his mighty
knees and roared out: "Ho! ho! for a bottle of rum! The _Bird of
Paradise_!" The adventurous sailorman had made all possible inquiries
about the aforesaid vessel when it sailed from the straits, etc., and
had calculated to a nicety when it would arrive in New Guinea. "There's
no time to lose, by heaven!" he thundered, as he swallowed his ninth
whisky and looked at the parlour clock. Then he shook Hillary, woke him
up with a start and said: "Come on, lad, let's put the old man to bed;
he's tired; it's the least we can do for him."
Before Everard fell to the floor they both lifted him and placed him
comfortably on his settee. Drunk as the prematurely aged ex-sailor was,
he looked like some bedraggled apostle as he lay there on his couch, his
hands crossed, a smile on his lips, as though he still laughed to
himself over Ulysses' wild jokes.
Then they both left the bungalow. If Hillary staggered slightly as he
gripped Bilbao's arm, and thought that the coco-palms were doing a
hushed step-dance on the moon-lit slopes of Bougainville, it must be
taken into account that he had to be sociable. He could not very well
stand like a mute as those reunited shipmates drank to the sprees of
other days and finished up in wild farewells and sanguine toasts to the
success of the venture they were engaged upon. As the apprentice softly
closed the front door of the bungalow Bilboa said, "Wait a tick," and
hurriedly returning into the parlour he picked up the whisky bottle and
swallowed the remaining contents. He excused himself before Hillary by
saying: "Ah! youngster, I had to drink once again to the success of our
venture and to the pretty eyes of that girl; we'll find her, don't you
fear."
"I know we will," replied the apprentice, as he clutched the big man's
arm.
As they stole along under the palms Bilbao's heart fairly bubbled with
mirth as he realised the possibilities of this new adventure. It would
take him out on the seas again! It was evident that his present quiet
life was palling upon him. No one knew why he was hiding from the arm of
the law in Bougainville, and no one cared. All that can positively be
stated here is that his heart was bursting to escape from the rough
settlement where Germans drank lager and beach combers slept between
their drinks. Such happiness was too much for him.
"Splendid!" he reiterated, as he brought his open hand down on Hillary's
back. But Hillary cared not; his heart sang within him like a bird:
whisky and his comrade's mighty belief in the success of all that they
might undertake had made him entirely careless of the moment. "Go it,
boy!" said Ulysses to the young apprentice, rattling the money in his
capacious pocket, and Hillary joined lustily in the rollicking chorus of
some Spanish chantey.
When they eventually arrived outside Hillary's lodgings Samuel Bilbao
swore that _he_ lived there. And Hillary? Well, he was so confused that
he obsequiously followed Ulysses in at that worthy's kind invitation.
And Mango Pango lay on her little bed-mat in the outhouse and could not
believe her ears that night, as she mumbled to herself: "Surely not
nicer Hill-eary shouting wilder song in ze middle night, up dere in his
bedrooms?" And then the astounded Mango Pango heard no more, for Ulysses
was comfortably fast asleep in Hillary's bed--while the apprentice slept
on the floor.
In the morning Hillary's landlady fairly gasped to see so big and so
handsome a man in her quiet young lodger's company. And as for pretty
Mango Pango, she opened her eyes and stared at Ulysses as though God sat
there in front of her. And when Ulysses swallowed a quart of boiling tea
and then sat her on his massive lap, her eyes shone like diamonds.
Though Hillary's head felt a bit heavy after the preceding night's
libations he could not help smiling as Samuel Bilbao kissed the
Polynesian maid's dusky ear and whispered pretty things to her. And was
Mango Pango abashed? Not in the least. It was very evident that Samuel
Bilbao was smitten with that dusky maid's charms.
But all these recorded things are small enough compared with the great
venture that they were entering upon. Even Ulysses realised that time
was valuable and that many difficulties might beset their path before
they could hire a schooner and keep their promise to Everard. And more,
the young apprentice quickly gave Bilbao a hint that they'd better be
off, and that Mango Pango's charms could wait till a later date.
That same day Ulysses went down to the beach and tried to get round all
the schooners' skippers off Bougainville. But it turned out that none
was willing to accept the fee Bilbao offered for the hire of a schooner,
or to take him as passenger to the coast of New Guinea.
Just as Hillary and his comrade were getting dubious about their chances
they heard that a schooner, the _Sea Foam_, was about to sail for New
Britain and then on to Dutch New Guinea. In a moment Bilbao had hired a
boat and was rowed out to the _Sea Foam_, which lay a quarter of a mile
off, by the barrier reefs. Bilbao at once went aboard and interviewed
the skipper, and found that he was a mean man and wanted more money than
Ulysses possessed to alter his course or take Ulysses for a passage at
all.
When Bilbao returned to Parsons's grog bar, where he had arranged to
meet Hillary, he looked worried. It was evident to the young apprentice
that he had entered heart and soul into the whole business. The fact was
that he was anxious to clear out of Bougainville, and so the scheme in
hand offered him all that he wanted: money, a change, and the forlorn
hope and excitement that were meat and drink to his volcanic
temperament.
"Don't despair, boy," said he to Hillary, "Bilbao never caved in yet
while the world went round the sun." Then they both went back to
Hillary's lodgings. Ulysses seemed deep in thought as they passed under
the palms. Then he said to Hillary: "The chief mate of that _Sea Foam_
is an old pal of mine."
"Is he?" said the apprentice, wondering what Ulysses was driving at.
"Yes, he is," responded Bilbao. Then he added: "I'm going out to see
that mate, and I wouldn't wonder if the _Sea Foam_ doesn't sail
to-morrow night with you and me on board."
"Really?" said Hillary.
"Yes, really!" responded Bilbao, as he told his surprised comrade to get
his traps packed ready to sail the next night.
"But didn't you say the skipper wanted eight hundred pounds?" said
Hillary after a pause.
"We don't get all we want in this world," replied Ulysses, as he gave a
massive wink.
When they eventually got back to Hillary's lodgings, the apprentice was
so sanguine over Bilbao's hopeful outlook that he too felt quite
cheerful. He opened his sea-chest and showed his big comrade Gabrielle's
photograph. Ulysses stared at the face, smacked Hillary on the back,
then kissed the photograph gallantly.
After that Hillary sat down in his room and fell into deep reflections
over the mysterious disappearance of Gabrielle. Then he played his
violin so as to soothe his own feelings. He was quite undisturbed by
Bilbao. For that worthy had sneaked off outside beneath the palms so
that he could woo pretty Mango Pango. Hillary heard shrieks of laughter
coming from the dusky maiden's lips as Ulysses whispered heaven only
knows what pretty things into her ears. Anyhow, Mango Pango fell
desperately in love with Samuel Bilbao. And when he and Hillary left
Mango Pango's kitchen that evening the young apprentice noticed that his
comrade was full of glee over some new scheme that had originated in his
versatile brain.
Mango Pango's eyes shone like fire as she waved her hand to Bilbao and
behaved as though she'd known the giant sailorman since her earliest
childhood.
"She's mine!--mine for ever!" chuckled Bilbao.
Hillary took little notice of Bilbao's wild utterances, but it was not
long before he discovered that there was a good deal of meaning in all
that Ulysses said, and also in the humour of his chuckles.
It would be a mass of wearying detail to tell all that occurred before
Ulysses secured the _Sea Foam_ so that they might sail straight for the
coast of New Guinea without the charge for her hire unduly diminishing
his private exchequer. It is sufficient to say that Ulysses made the
very best of his old friendship with the chief mate of the _Sea Foam_.
And perhaps it will enlighten the reader a good deal to know that the
chief mate came ashore that night and had a long private conversation
and multitudinous mixed drinks with Bilbao in Parsons's grog bar.
Hillary stood aside as the two men spoke in very low undertones and
Ulysses poked the mate in the ribs and showed him a handful of gold.
Then the mate began to get jovial and gave Ulysses a receipt for several
of the golden coins. Of course it was none of Hillary's business as to
_how_ the _Sea Foam_ was to be hired. Ulysses had taken that part of the
job on, and as an innocent girl's very life was at stake, what might
appear to be a shady transaction in getting hold of the schooner was
only a necessary part of the day's work, so far as Ulysses was
concerned. He chuckled inwardly to see the mate's delight over the bribe
he'd given him. But his success with the mate of the _Sea Foam_ was as
nothing when he discovered that the _Sea Foam's_ skipper was a terrible
drunkard; and to make things easier still the skipper himself came into
that very bar and, seeing Ulysses flush of cash, swallowed several good
strong nips of rum at his expense.
"No, never!" said Skipper Long John (for such was the _Sea Foam_
captain's name), as good old Samuel Bilbao spun his mighty yarns,
telling of the wondrous deeds in his seafaring career. Still the skipper
continued to drink, so that when at last he fell down on the floor of
Parsons's saloon bar after drinking his nineteenth rum no one was
surprised. What may have been the surprising matter of the whole
business was this: That _same_ skipper was arrested that _same_ night
for using bad language and insulting two Polynesian girls on the beach!
No one _saw_ the girls who had been so grossly insulted; all that was
known about the matter was that the skipper was seen staggering about
the beach that night, trying to hire some natives to paddle him out to
his schooner, when he was suddenly seized from behind by two
Herculean-framed members of the native police and taken off to the
Bougainville _calaboose_ (jail). It was rumoured long after that he was
fined fifty dollars or two weeks' solitary confinement. How the poor old
skipper took his hard luck is not known. Anyway, one can rest assured
that he never dreamed that Samuel Bilbao knew the head of the native
police force in Rokeville, and that whilst he languished in jail that
worthy chuckled with delight over the success of his scheme; and the
head of the native police was mightily pleased with the bribe he had
received from Samuel Bilbao! So was the schooner secured.
It may seem wonderful how the thing was done. But the civil authorities
in those parts and the owners in Sydney can vouch for it that the _Sea
Foam_, with Samuel Bilbao on board as captain, sailed out of
Bougainville harbour at midnight on 10th February, and no one knew for
what port she had sailed.
Hillary half wondered if he was in the throes of some marvellous dream
as he stood on the _Sea Foam's_ deck just before she sailed. Ulysses was
walking about the deck shouting orders to his willing crew. And the crew
were singing their chanteys cheerfully as they thought over the
conviviality of their new skipper, who had so generously primed them up
with the best Jamaica rum. Not one tear was shed when they heard that
their late skipper, Long John, had broken his leg and was lying helpless
in the tin-roofed hospital at Silbar, in Bougainville. For such was the
sad news Ulysses imparted when he had mustered them on deck and told
them that he and the chief mate had orders to sail at once. There was
not the slightest need to tell them verbally that he was henceforth
their captain. The old boatswain saw the imperative command of those
eyes and saluted the new skipper, and every man on board instinctively
straightened his backbone. In a moment Ulysses had cast off his faded
coat and pants and old boots. None wondered when he appeared on deck in
the late captain's best sea-going clothes, and on his head the
brass-bound, badged peak-cap that he had found in the skipper's large
sea-chest. Everything went well. The south-west trades were blowing
steadily; no night could be more favourable for setting sail and
clearing the harbour. "Set to! Haul the anchor up!" he roared.
When Hillary heard the rattling of the chain and saw the men aloft
fisting the sail he rubbed his eyes. "It's another hopeless dream," he
said.
Ulysses all this time was leaning over the gangway, peering down into
the gloom, as he tugged at a rope. And as Hillary watched he saw that he
was pulling something up that dangled in space; he had distinctly heard
a musical voice that he was astonished to recognise. "Hold hard! Gently
there, you son of a gun!" yelled Ulysses, as the deck-hands and the
boatswain stood by grinning from ear to ear. And still three of the crew
and Ulysses hauled carefully at the taut tackle, as they repeatedly
looked over the vessel's side. "God damn it, slew her up! Mind her
starboard leg! Over! Over there! Right-o! Up she comes! Gently, lads;
gently does the trick! Let go!"
"God in heaven!" gasped Hillary, for out of the basket hauled up from
the outrigger canoe that had just arrived alongside, plomp! down on the
deck jumped pretty Mango Pango!
Hillary did not dream. There she stood, her pearly teeth visible by the
light of the oil lamp in the gangway, her eyes sparkling as she laughed
with glee, like some happy child. Ulysses had persuaded her to bolt from
her mistress's kitchen and accompany him on that voyage out to New
Guinea.
"Well, I'm blest! He can do anything he undertakes," said Hillary to
himself, as he realised why Bilbao had chuckled so much when the two of
them had last said good-bye to Mango Pango.
Before the moon was well up the _Sea Foam_ had sailed, disappearing
silently out of Bougainville harbour, bound for the great unknown, so
far as the crew were concerned. Not a soul aboard the _Sea Foam_ slept
that night. When everything was snug aloft, and they were tacking before
a steady breeze for the coral seas, Ulysses called all hands aft and
served out rum. Several of the crew were Britishers, three were Kanakas,
one a Jap and the other a nondescript nigger. The crew wondered what was
going to happen next when they saw Ulysses at the cuddy table and Mango
Pango installed at the head. And they too joined in the songs and
laughter, as the glasses clinked and the late skipper's champagne
disappeared. It was only the mate who did not seem to appreciate the
wild hilarity on board. He was a bilious-looking fellow and looked
terribly nervous as Ulysses roared at the top of his voice. The mate had
already regretted his share in the scheme that had cast his late skipper
into jail and installed Ulysses in his stead. He was unable to persuade
himself that he would be acquitted by any jury when they learnt that he
had sailed under the jovial orders of Captain Samuel Bilbao. Bilbao had
smacked him on the back and sworn that everything would be all right.
"You've nothing to worry about; all you've got to do is to say that I
came aboard this ship and proved my legitimate right to install myself
as the new skipper." Saying this, Ulysses tried to ease the mate's mind
by pulling from his pocket the late skipper's pocket-book and papers,
also a note-of-hand that was presumably written in the late skipper's
handwriting. This note stated that the care of the _Sea Foam_ was to be
given over to Captain Samuel Bilbao, who had instructions to sail at
once. Such was the whole scheme, so far as Hillary could make it out.
Anyway, though the mate became gloomy and sallow-looking as the days
went by, Ulysses got redder in the face and even perceptibly fatter. It
would have pleased the devoutest hearts could they have seen the modest
decorum of Mango Pango's private cabin on the cuddy's port side. Ulysses
had made the cabin-boy fix it up in quite artistic style. A little
German bronze mirror swung to and fro by the small port-hole, pictures
of Biblical subjects decorated the low roof and walls, and all the
niceties that a maid might require were to be found in the quickly
extemporised apartment.
It must be admitted that the first few days were monotonous and quite
unromantic. For a bit of a wind came up and made the _Sea Foam_ heave
and lurch. This instability caused poor Mango Pango suddenly to rush
from her chamber and groan with anguish as she knelt by the port-side
scuppers. She was terribly seasick. Ulysses would give a ponderous,
sympathetic wink as she rushed back to her bunk and closed the door of
her cabin. Then the little Papuan cabin-boy, Tombo Nuvolo, would stand
sentinel just by the saloon port-hole to see that no one quizzed or came
near the modest maiden's abode. But Mango Pango soon recovered from her
illness, and attired in her pretty blue robe, scarlet and yellow ribbon
in her mass of coral-dyed hair, came out on deck to bask in the hot
sunshine.
When Hillary sat down by her side and told her that the _Sea Foam_ was
bound for New Guinea, and that Ulysses and he were going in search of
Gabrielle Everard, she opened her pretty eyes and mouth in unbounded
astonishment and said: "Awaie!--Wearly! Going in searcher of poor
Gabberlel who ams in New Ginner! Never!" And then, while she lifted her
hands and uttered her quaint Samoan exclamations (she was born in Apia,
Samoa) Hillary told her as much about the reason of the voyage and of
all they had heard about Rajah Macka as he thought advisable.
Mango Pango was a real blessing to the apprentice; she was so full of
childish vivacity, song and laughter that she dispelled his gloomy
thoughts and made him quite cheerful at times. "Thank heaven that she
was fool enough to be persuaded to come on this extraordinary venture,"
thought Hillary, as the girl performed a native step-dance while he
fiddled, and didn't appear to trouble about her position in the least.
Samuel Bilbao would stand by, his mighty viking moustachios rippling to
the sea-breeze as he sang some romantic strain and gazed admiringly on
the dancing Mango Pango, who revelled in his praise. Heaven knows what
Bilbao's alleged harem of island Penelopes would have thought could they
have seen their absent Ulyssess' massive gallantry and the glance of his
eyes as Mango danced by the galley amidships. It is true that several of
the sailors made eyes at Mango Pango when Ulysses was having his
afternoon nap in the late captain's cosy bunk. And it must be confessed
that she didn't seem to take the sailors' advances as though she thought
them amiss. But still, she behaved with considerable propriety, and only
very slyly blew surreptitious kisses back to the aged bottle-nosed
boatswain, Jonathan Snooks, who looked at the dusky maid and said more
with his eyes than he should have done, considering that he had a wife
in Shanghai and two more in 'Frisco!
What a voyage it was! Hillary thought of England, of his home. "What
would the mater, the governor, my sisters and Uncle William think could
they see me sailing across the coral seas to rescue a white girl from
the heathen temple of a Papuan Rajah?" He would incline his eyes from
the sky-line and look back on the deck of the _Sea Foam_ to convince
himself of the reality of it all.
"Don't stand there mooching about with that mournful look on yer ugly
mug!" yelled Samuel Bilbao, as he stood there, nearly seven feet high,
watching Mango Pango's five feet five inches dancing exquisitely beneath
the shaded awning that he'd ordered to be rigged up by the cuddy's
private deck. Then he yelled for the cook, demanding that worthy's
presence aft to play the accordion and make up the _Sea Foam's_ scratch
orchestra for a song and dance. Ulysses began to play his bone clappers
(he was a crack hand at the clappers). And it was a sight worth seeing
as the crew stood obediently in a semi-circle, opened their bearded
mouths and exercised their big, hoarse-throated voices to the full
extent as they all roared the chorus of old Malayan sea-chanteys till
far into the night. And if the pretty Samoan maid, Mango Pango, couldn't
dance like a sea-faery, or mermaid, on the _Sea Foam's_ deck, under the
full brilliance of the tropic moon, then no one on the seas ever will be
able to do so.
Even the remorseful, bilious chief mate opened his mouth, mumbling a
belated melody when Ulysses put forth his long arm and conducted the
chorus of--
"For I went down South for to see my Sal,
Singing Polly-wolly-doodle all the way."
Then he inclined his massive, curly head and, gazing sideways into Mango
Pango's delighted eyes, he continued bellowing forth in such tones that
the startled sea-birds far out of the night gave a frightened wail:
"Fare thee well, fare thee well,
Fare thee well, my Faery Fay;
For I'm off to Lousianna for to see my Susiannah,
Singing Polly-wolly-doodle all the way!"
So did Samuel Bilbao pass his spare time on board the _Sea Foam_. There
were only one or two cases of insubordination amongst the crew. Ulysses
discovered that they'd had several stand-up fights on grog nights. And
he was in a fearful rage when he heard of it. For if he had one
weakness, it was his mad love of being umpire at a stand-up fight.
Excitement did not always prevail on the _Sea Foam_; sometimes the
atmosphere became quite subdued. Hillary would sit for hours dreaming of
Gabrielle, Mango Pango dreaming of her late mistress and Ulysses
presumably thinking about his melancholy heathen kings and forlorn
queens. The weather became terrifically hot. Even the crew became
subdued in the heat of that tropic sea. It was only when the stars came
out and a tiny breath of wind swept across the calm sea that things
began to liven up on board. The sound of a faint, far-off song of
England would come from the forecastle. Then Bully Beef, the boatswain's
pet dog, would look through the scuppers and bark like a fiend at the
mirrored stars that twinkled in the ocean as the _Sea Foam_ plopped and
the rigging wailed. It was on such nights that Hillary, Mango and Bilbao
would sit together and talk or sing.
One night as the sun was sinking and throwing magic colours over the
western sky-line, and the hot winds flapped the sails, making a far-away
musical clamour, Hillary sat by the cuddy door reading poems to Ulysses
and Mango Pango. As the apprentice read out Byron's _Don Juan_, Ulysses
stamped his mighty feet for an encore. Then he read them passages from
_The Corsair_, till Samuel Bilbao, with hand arched over his blue eyes,
fell into a poetic mood, as Hillary's musical voice rippled off:
"She rose, she sprung, she clung to his embrace
Till his heart heaved beneath her hidden face,
He dared not raise to his that deep-blue eye."
And when he read out the description of Medora and Conrad's sad
farewell--
"Her long fair hair lay floating o'er his arms
In all the wildness of dishevell'd charms"--
Ulysses almost wept. Hillary seemed to draw the romance of the sea out
of those sparkling stanzas.
"Wish we had the cove who wrote those things on this venture," said
Bilbao; then he added: "Is it all true? Who wrote 'em?"
"It's all written by Byron; and it's as true as gospel!"
"Byron? Is that the cove's name? I wish we had him here; he and I would
hit it well, I know," muttered Ulysses. Then he leaned forward and sang
a song to Mango Pango's pretty eyes, as the youth read on. It was a
strange sight to see that romantic swashbuckler of the seas so
interested in all that Hillary read, and to hear his critical comments.
The highly coloured, rebellions poetry, written mostly by anaemic youth,
did not appeal to Samuel Bilbao at all.
To him adventures came as a matter of course. To be on that vessel bound
for New Guinea to rescue a maid in distress did not excite his emotions
unduly; it was all in the day's work. Hillary often noticed this fact
about Bilbao. The apprentice was astonished at the calm way he spoke of
rescuing Gabrielle from the heathen's clutches; of killing Macka and
sending his bleached skull, carefully packed up, to old Everard in
Bougainville, as a substantial proof that he'd killed the man and
rescued the daughter, and so had fulfilled the contract according to
terms.
Hillary, as time went on, was inclined to be nervous and impatient, and
Mango Pango became extremely superstitious and swore that every shadow
was a ghost. As for Ulysses, he roared with laughter about Solomon
Island shadows, and when Mango spoke about such things he told her she
was "potty." It may have been Bilbao's liberality with the cases of
champagne that were found down in the lazaret that upset Hillary's
nervous system. And if he did take a little more than was good for him
he was to be excused, for the weather was terribly muggy and hot at
times. Anyhow, Bilbao often cheered him up when he was down in the
mouth.
"Don't get down in the mug, boy; we're making headway quick enough. The
Rajah and his damned ship are not so far ahead. We'll be in New Guinea
before him yet."
But Hillary knew that Ulysses did not control the winds of heaven. And
yet at times it seemed to him that these same winds were blowing in
perfect sympathy with his wishes as the _Sea Foam_ went racing before
the steady breeze.
On the evening of the eighth day out from Bougainville a typhoon blew
the _Sea Foam_ leagues out of her course to the north-west. Ulysses
roared forth his oaths as only _he_ could roar, while the crew slashed
away at the tackle, endeavouring to relieve the thunderous flappings of
the torn sails. Two boats were washed away. The boatswain nearly wept
when the huge sea came and washed Bully Beef, his pet dog, overboard.
"Lower the only boat we've got left to save your b---- dog," roared
Bilbao, as he stood on deck, his vandyke beard and moustache stiff, and
rippling to port as the wind struck him and mountainous seas rose level
with the bulwark side to windward. The chief mate, gazing aloft with
sunken, socket-like eyes, seemed almost pleased with the idea that the
_Sea Foam_ might any moment turn turtle and so cut short his eternal
fear about the jury's verdict if ever his duplicity got him into the
clutches of the law. He was slowly fading to a shadow through all the
worry that Bilbao had brought on to his trembling shoulders. Even at
that early date a decided looseness in his brass-bound reefer packet was
noticeable, clearly indicating the shrinkage of his once plump form.
Mango Pango, hearing the seas beating against the schooner's side,
looked through the cuddy's port-hole, and seeing the wild confusion, as
the crew slashed at the wreckage aloft while the schooner heeled over,
cried aloud: "Awaie! Awaie! O tellible _matagai_ (storm)! O Bilbalos,
saver poor Mango Pango!"
"Don't cry, Mango, it's all right now," said Hillary, who had just crept
into the cuddy from the deck, for he too had been taking a hand in the
desperate work of that buffeted crew. In half-an-hour every man on board
was thanking his lucky stars that the _Sea Foam_ was still plunging
along on her keel. Her storm-sails had been set and the taut jib-sails
were just keeping her steady with head on to the seas after the first
great onslaught of the elements. Though the wind had blown across the
heavens with inconceivable velocity, not a cloud had smudged the face of
the sky.
An hour before dawn the typhoon had quite blown itself out. Only the
universal heave and tumble of the ocean swell told of the tremendous
buffeting an hour before. The moon was sinking to the south-west.
Ulysses, Hillary and the melancholy mate stood on the poop.
"Glad that blow's over," said Samuel Bilbao, as the mate's obsequious
voice echoed his own thankfulness. Then they all stared seaward, for the
look-out man on the forecastle head roared out: "Land on the starboard
bow!" That cry caused tremendous consternation amongst all on board. It
was evident that the _Sea Foam_ had got many leagues out of her course.
The mate put it down to the typhoon, and swore that it wasn't the fault
of his navigation. Anyway, Ulysses gave him the benefit of the doubt.
Even Mango Pango stood amidships on deck with the crew as they all
huddled together and stared at the foam-flecked reefs of some strange
isle that loomed up about a mile away to the south-south-west.
"What isle's that, for God's sake?" said Bilbao, as he got his chart
out. For he had quite thought that he was far away from any islands.
"Can't make its reckoning; must be some small island off the Admiralty
Group," said the mate in a hollow voice, as he leaned over Bilbao's arm
and stared at the chart. Half-an-hour after that all hands stood by the
anchor, for the _Sea Foam_ was plunging dead on for the mighty burst of
spray that rose high over the barrier reefs. Then they once more stared
in surprise, for quite visible to the naked eye lay the wreck of a ship,
a steamer, on the reefs, over which the thundering seas were still
breaking. It was easy enough to see that she wasn't lying calmly at
anchor, because of the great white-ridged line of curling breakers that
rose and went right over her listed decks.
"It's some tramp steamer run ashore," said the mate in a hollow,
sepulchral voice; "a Dutch or a German boat, I think," he added, as he
looked through the telescope.
An hour after Bilbao shouted: "Stand by! Let go!" and in a few moments
the _Sea Foam_ swung safely at anchor in a few fathoms of water to the
north-west of the strange isle.
Hillary looked mournful enough as he thought of the delay.
"Don't you worry, it's all right; besides, there's sure to be a dead
calm after that blow last night, and we may just as well lie here as
anywhere else, eh?" said Bilbao as he rubbed his hands with delight. For
his all-embracing mind had already conjured up visions of that wreck
being possibly crammed up to the hatches with chests full of gold and a
valuable cargo of pearls. All day long the _Sea Foam_ lay off the
island, as Ulysses stared through his telescope to see if he could
discover signs of life on the derelict, or on the island. He wasn't
taking any risks by going ashore, or going on that wreck before he was
quite certain that no one was about. He knew it was quite possible that
the original skipper of the _Sea Foam_ had been released from the
_calaboose_ by the German consulate, and that he and the missing _Sea
Foam_ were already being followed up by the skipper in another hired
schooner.
The sallow mate clutched Ulysses's arm and nearly dropped with fear as
he too looked through the telescope. Then he wailed: "You know, Captain
Bilbao, they might be after us and would just as likely be there on that
island in wait, knowing what you are."
Ulysses only responded by shouting the irrelevant lines of some
sea-chantey. Then he said, as he stared once more through the glass:
"Must have all gone away in the ship's boats. There's no one aboard that
wreck, I'll swear." His eyes brightened over his prospects.
Then he smacked Hillary on the back and shouted: "Don't be downhearted!
I'm damned if we haven't anchored off a treasure-trove wreck! You and
yer pretty Gabrielle will be able to keep one of the finest seraglios in
the South Seas if all goes well."
Hillary couldn't help smiling at the big man's levity as he too looked
towards the derelict and watched the grandly picturesque sight of the
curling breakers beating against the hulk.
Every now and again, as dawn stole over the seas, they could hear the
long, low swelling roar and thunder as a big swell collided with the
far-off barrier reefs.
"P'r'aps it's the _Bird of Paradise_ run ashore, and cursed Macka's on
that isle with Gabrielle, hidden in those palms," was the thought that
struck Hillary. He was certainly impressionable, and if there was a
peculiar construction to be placed on a commonplace incident, Hillary
was just the person to do it. Even he realised the foolishness of his
thoughts, for the wreck was that of a steamer, not a sailing ship.
Samuel Bilbao got terribly impatient; the long tropic day seemed
endless. He was awaiting the friendly dusk of evening before he lowered
the boat and went forth to overhaul the wreck.
A quarter of an hour after sunset a boat left the _Sea Foam_. In it were
Ulysses, the mate, two sailors and Hillary. After half-an-hour's hard
rowing they softly beached on the silver sand of the isle, just where
the wreck lay.
"_Salier!_ A German steamer!" whispered the mate in subdued, frightened
tone, as he slowly made out the big black letters on the grey-painted
stern. Then the five of them softly walked round the sands on the
shoreward side, where the sprays and seas would no longer drench them.
All was perfectly quiet on the shore; only the noise of the incoming sea
swell and the soughing of the high winds in the belt of mangoes and
coco-palms disturbed the silence.
The derelict lay right over, her deck like a wooden wall on the
shoreward side. In a moment Ulysses, the mate and Hillary had clambered
over the reefs and climbed over the listed bulwarks. There was something
uncanny about the silence of the mouldy-smelling saloon as the three of
them crept into it and climbed along the listed floor. Ulysses went
about his job as though he had done little else all his life than search
wrecks on uncharted isles in the South Seas. Flash! flash! went his
lantern as he went down into the lazaret hold and began to peer into all
the likely places for treasure.
"What's that, O Maker of the Universe?" wailed the mate, as he nearly
fainted and fell forward so abruptly that he almost knocked Hillary off
his feet.
"What's what?" said Samuel Bilbao, as he flashed his lantern in the
direction of the mate's pointing finger. "Why, it's a derned old tom
cat!" said Ulysses as he flashed his bull's-eye lantern on a monster
fluffy black cat. It looked at them all with its green, flashing eyes
that had so frightened the mate and yawned! It was the ship's cat. There
it lay, as plump as might be, and all round it were the bones of mice
and rats that had evidently made the beast decide to stop on its old
ship in preference to going ashore to catch the fierce, sharp-beaked
cockatoos that swarmed on the isle.
As soon as the mate had taken a pull at his brass whisky flask and
recovered his self-possession they continued their search. Bilbao went
down into the main hold. Hillary and the mate held the taut rope as he
swung himself down, down into those inky depths. After a deal of hunting
and swearing Ulysses yelled out: "Haul me up!" In a few moments his
curly head appeared above the rim of the hatchway. Then he uttered a
tremendous oath that harmonised with the look of disgust on his face. He
had discovered that someone had been there before them and had evidently
searched the hulk in a most drastic fashion, for they had emptied the
hold and had cleared off almost every movable article of value. All
Ulysses managed to find was one case of Bass's pale ale, a pair of the
late skipper's sea-boots and a few mouldy articles of clothing under the
bunks in the forecastle.
"By thunder, let's clear out of this!" said Ulysses as he looked into
the eyes of the sallow mate and breathed his disappointment. Samuel
Bilbao had really thought that at last he'd come across a prize. It was
only natural he should think that a ship sailing across the South Seas
should have some kind of valuable cargo on board. So many times had he
sat in grog shanties and listened to wonderful tales told by old sailors
who had found "treasure troves" lying about on the reefs of uncharted
isles of the Southern Seas.
"Blimey! waiting all day long to search a bloomin' wryck hon an hiland,
and only faund a five-shilling case of Bass's ale--and sour at that--and
a bob's worth of old clothes," groaned the Cockney boatswain, as he
expectorated viciously over the mate's head. They were standing on the
shore again, almost ankle-deep in the shining coral sands. Bilbao and
the two sailors who had watched on the shore while the search was on
were looking up at the rigging, and the huge listed funnel when they
received a shock.
"God in heaven, what's that!" said the mate so suddenly that everyone
instinctively turned to make a bolt from some unspeakable horror.
Even Ulysses looked a bit startled as they all stood stiff, like
chiselled figures, staring inland. There, before their eyes, not three
hundred yards away, on a little hill, a dark figure was jumping about,
whirling and waving its hands.
"Holy Moses!" said one.
"Gawd forgive me sins!" breathed another.
"It's a phantom of the seas--a nigger phantom," wailed the mate.
The figure was certainly a dark man, and perfectly nude; he was quite
visible, for the moon was just coming up over the horizon to the
south-west, sending ghostly fires on the wreck's broken masts and torn
rigging and canvas.
"It's Macka!--gone mad! He's got Gabrielle Everard somewhere back there
in those palms!" gasped Hillary.
"No!" said Samuel Bilbao before he had recovered from his astonishment
and realised the obvious absurdity of the young apprentice's remark.
"Why, it's a maniac Kanaka!" said Bilbao, who had started coolly to walk
up the shore so that he could discern the features of the leaping
figure, that was still waving its hands and behaving generally like a
frenzied lunatic.
"What the 'ell's the matter with ye?" roared Bilbao.
Still the figure danced, and only the echoes of Ulysses' big voice and
the screech of disturbed cockatoos in the banyans responded.
In a moment the dark figure had bolted. In another moment Ulysses,
Hillary, the boatswain and the two sailors had joined in the chase, all
rushing like mad after the flying figure. Only the sorrowful mate stood
still on the sands just by the wreck, his loose clothing flapping over
his shrunken figure as though he was some mysterious scarecrow left
there by the late crew.
Hillary led the way in that chase, Bilbao following just behind, yelling
forth mighty bets as to the winner, his big, sea-booted feet stirring
the silvery sands into clouds of moon-lit sparkle as he thundered behind
the apprentice.
"It's Macka! It's Macka Rajah!" Bilbao roared, as he stopped a second
and held his stomach, that heaved with a mirth which seemed considerably
out of place at such a time. Suddenly the flying figure fell down. The
white men, who were rushing down a steep incline, could not stay
themselves, and in a moment they had all fallen on top of the gasping,
terrified figure.
"O papalagi! Talofa! No kille me! Me nicer Samoan mans. Me shipwreck;
savee mee!" yelled the frightened native, as he felt the full weight of
the white men on his recumbent form. There was something so appealing
and sincere in his voice and broken English that they all realised in a
moment that the poor devil was not to blame for his lonely position on
the island.
When all was safe, and they had led the trembling Samoan castaway back
to the sands, the chief mate breathed a sigh of relief and gave the poor
castaway a drink from his whisky flask.
It turned out that he was a Samoan sailor, one of the crew of the wreck
that lay on the reefs. She had left Apia about six months before, bound
for the Bismarck Archipelago, and had run ashore in a typhoon. The
German crew had taken to the boats whilst the Samoan sailor had lain ill
under the palms (just like Germans). And so he had awakened to find
himself alone on the island.
"Where's all the cargo, and the skipper's property?" said Bilbao, as a
great hope sprang up in his breast, for he thought that perhaps the
native had taken them off the wreck and hidden them on the island. Then
the native told them that about two moons after the wreck had been lying
on the shore a fleet of canoes sighted her and came out of their course
to the islands.
"They came one day, again next days and next days, for a longer times,"
said the castaway.
It appeared that Tampo, the Samoan, for that was his name, was too
frightened to show himself to the Malabar natives, who toiled from
sunrise to sunset in robbing the wreck of her cargo. The poor native
well knew that many of the natives of the isles in the coral seas were
inveterate cannibals. And he didn't feel inclined to take any risk of
being cooked and eaten. He preferred to hide in the tropical growth till
a white man's ship sighted him or the wreck. And certainly he was wise
in taking this course.
The castaway was delighted when Ulysses said: "Come along, old Talofa,
get yer traps together, pack yer fig-leaf up and come aboard."
A few minutes after that the lonely isle was once more uninhabited.
There was no trace of humanity excepting the wreck on the shore. And
long before dawn flushed the east with its silver radiance the _Sea
Foam_ was flying with all possible sail set for the coast of New Guinea.
"It wasn't old Macka Rajah gone mad after all," said Bilbao to Hillary,
as the apprentice stood dreaming on the deck in the morning.
"It wasn't a treasure trove on the reefs, crammed up to the hatchway
with chests of golden doubloons and pieces of eight," Hillary retorted
quietly. Even Mango Pango, that rival of how many sad heathen Penelopes,
revealed her pearly teeth when she understood the meaning of Hillary's
sally.
Samuel Bilbao only laughed, then said: "Boy, we're only about three or
four days' sail from the coastal village where your Rajah Macka has
bolted."
"Only three or four days before I know! Only three or four days before I
see Gabrielle, and find out--what?" were some of the thoughts that
flashed through Hillary's brain as Bilbao made that momentous
announcement. And it was true enough: the _Sea Foam_ was slowly but
surely nearing the god-forsaken barbarian forest coast of the land where
the ex-missionary and kidnapper was supposed to have taken Gabrielle
Everard.