beautiful city that was to rise on the coast of Opeki was not built in
a day. Nor was it ever built. For before the Bradleys could mark out
the foul-lines for the base-ball field on the plaza, or teach their
standing army the goose step, or lay bamboo pipes for the water-mains,
or clear away the cactus for the extension of the King's palace, the
Hillmen paid Opeki their quarterly visit.
Albert had called on the King the next morning, with Stedman as his
interpreter, as he had said he would, and, with maps and sketches, had
shown his Majesty what he proposed to do toward improving Opeki and
ennobling her king, and when the King saw Albert's free-hand sketches
of wharves with tall ships lying at anchor, and rows of Opekian
warriors with the Bradleys at their head, and the design for his new
palace, and a royal sedan chair, he believed that these things were
already his, and not still only on paper, and he appointed Albert his
Minister of War, Stedman his Minister of Home Affairs, and selected
two of his wisest and oldest subjects to serve them as joint advisers.
His enthusiasm was even greater than Gordon's, because he did not
appreciate the difficulties. He thought Gordon a semi-god, a worker of
miracles, and urged the putting up of a monument to him at once in the
public plaza, to which Albert objected, on the ground that it would be
too suggestive of an idol; and to which Stedman also objected, but for
the less unselfish reason that it would "be in the way of the
pitcher's box."
They were feverishly discussing all these great changes, and Stedman
was translating as rapidly as he could translate, the speeches of four
different men--for the two counsellors had been called in--all of whom
wanted to speak at once when there came from outside a great shout,
and the screams of women, and the clashing of iron, and the pattering
footsteps of men running.
As they looked at one another in startled surprise, a native ran into
the room, followed by Bradley, Jr., and threw himself down before the
King. While he talked, beating his hands and bowing before Ollypybus,
Bradley, Jr., pulled his forelock to the consul, and told how this man
lived on the far outskirts of the village; how he had been captured
while out hunting, by a number of the Hillmen; and how he had escaped
to tell the people that their old enemies were on the war-path again,
and rapidly approaching the village.
Outside, the women were gathering in the plaza, with the children
about them, and the men were running from hut to hut, warning their
fellows, and arming themselves with spears and swords, and the native
bows and arrows.
"They might have waited until we had that army trained," said Gordon,
in a tone of the keenest displeasure. "Tell me, quick, what do they
generally do when they come?"
"Steal all the cattle and goats, and a woman or two, and set fire to
the huts in the outskirts," replied Stedman.
"Well, we must stop them," said Gordon, jumping up. "We must take out
a flag of truce and treat with them. They must be kept off until I
have my army in working order. It is most inconvenient. If they had
only waited two months, now, or six weeks even, we could have done
something; but now we must make peace. Tell the King we are going out
to fix things with them, and tell him to keep off his warriors until
he learns whether we succeed or fail."
"But, Gordon!" gasped Stedman. "Albert! You don't understand. Why,
man, this isn't a street-fight or a cane-rush. They'll stick you full
of spears, dance on your body, and eat you, maybe. A flag of
truce!--you're talking nonsense. What do they know of a flag of
truce?"
"You're talking nonsense, too," said Albert, "and you're talking to
your superior officer. If you are not with me in this, go back to your
cable, and tell the man in Octavia that it's a warm day, and that the
sun is shining; but if you've any spirit in you--and I think you
have--run to the office and get my Winchester rifles, and the two
shot-guns, and my revolvers, and my uniform, and a lot of brass things
for presents, and run all the way there and back. And make time. Play
you're riding a bicycle at the Agricultural Fair."
Stedman did not hear this last, for he was already off and away,
pushing through the crowd, and calling on Bradley, Sr., to follow him.
Bradley, Jr., looked at Gordon with eyes that snapped, like a dog that
is waiting for his master to throw a stone.
"I can fire a Winchester, sir," he said. "Old Tom can't. He's no good
at long range 'cept with a big gun, sir. Don't give him the
Winchester. Give it to me, please, sir."
Albert met Stedman in the plaza, and pulled off his blazer, and put on
Captain Travis's--now his--uniform coat, and his white pith helmet.
"Now, Jack," he said, "get up there and tell these people that we are
going out to make peace with these Hillmen, or bring them back
prisoners of war. Tell them we are the preservers of their homes and
wives and children; and you, Bradley, take these presents, and young
Bradley, keep close to me, and carry this rifle."
Stedman's speech was hot and wild enough to suit a critical and
feverish audience before a barricade in Paris. And when he was
through, Gordon and Bradley punctuated his oration by firing off the
two Winchester rifles in the air, at which the people jumped and fell
on their knees, and prayed to their several gods. The fighting men of
the village followed the four white men to the outskirts, and took up
their stand there as Stedman told them to do, and the four walked on
over the roughly hewn road, to meet the enemy.
Gordon walked with Bradley, Jr., in advance. Stedman and old Tom
Bradley followed close behind with the two shot-guns, and the presents
in a basket.
"Are these Hillmen used to guns?" asked Gordon. Stedman said no, they
were not. "This shot-gun of mine is the only one on the island," he
explained, "and we never came near enough them before to do anything
with it. It only carries a hundred yards. The Opekians never make any
show of resistance. They are quite content if the Hillmen satisfy
themselves with the outlying huts, as long as they leave them and the
town alone; so they seldom come to close quarters."
The four men walked on for half an hour or so in silence, peering
eagerly on every side; but it was not until they had left the woods
and marched out into the level stretch of grassy country that they
came upon the enemy. The Hillmen were about forty in number, and were
as savage and ugly-looking giants as any in a picture-book. They had
captured a dozen cows and goats, and were driving them on before them,
as they advanced farther upon the village. When they saw the four men,
they gave a mixed chorus of cries and yells, and some of them stopped,
and others ran forward, shaking their spears, and shooting their broad
arrows into the ground before them. A tall, gray-bearded, muscular old
man, with a skirt of feathers about him, and necklaces of bones and
animals' claws around his bare chest, ran in front of them, and seemed
to be trying to make them approach more slowly.
"Is that Messenwah?" asked Gordon.
"Yes," said Stedman; "he is trying to keep them back. I don't believe
he ever saw a white man before."
"Stedman," said Albert, speaking quickly, "give your gun to Bradley,
and go forward with your arms in the air, and waving your
handkerchief, and tell them in their language that the King is coming.
If they go at you, Bradley and I will kill a goat or two, to show them
what we can do with the rifles; and if that don't stop them, we will
shoot at their legs; and if that don't stop them--I guess you'd better
come back, and we'll all run."
Stedman looked at Albert, and Albert looked at Stedman, and neither of
them winced or flinched.
"Is this another of my secretary's duties?" asked the younger boy.
"Yes," said the consul; "but a resignation is always in order. You
needn't go if you don't like it. You see, you know the language and I
don't, but I know how to shoot, and you don't."
"That's perfectly satisfactory," said Stedman, handing his gun to old
Bradley. "I only wanted to know why I was to be sacrificed instead of
one of the Bradleys. It's because I know the language. Bradley, Sr.,
you see the evil results of a higher education. Wish me luck, please,"
he said, "and for goodness' sake," he added impressively, "don't waste
much time shooting goats."
The Hillmen had stopped about two hundred yards off, and were drawn up
in two lines, shouting, and dancing, and hurling taunting remarks at
their few adversaries. The stolen cattle were bunched together back of
the King. As Stedman walked steadily forward with his handkerchief
fluttering, and howling out something in their own tongue, they
stopped and listened. As he advanced, his three companions followed
him at about fifty yards in the rear. He was one hundred and fifty
yards from the Hillmen before they made out what he said, and then one
of the young braves, resenting it as an insult to his chief, shot an
arrow at him. Stedman dodged the arrow and stood his ground without
even taking a step backward, only turning slightly to put his hands to
his mouth, and to shout something which sounded to his companions
like, "About time to begin on the goats." But the instant the young
man had fired, King Messenwah swung his club and knocked him down, and
none of the others moved. Then Messenwah advanced before his men to
meet Stedman, and on Stedman's opening and shutting his hands to show
that he was unarmed, the King threw down his club and spears, and came
forward as empty-handed as himself.
"Ah," gasped Bradley, Jr., with his finger trembling on his lever,
"let me take a shot at him now." Gordon struck the man's gun up, and
walked forward in all the glory of his gold and blue uniform; for both
he and Stedman saw now that Messenwah was more impressed by their
appearance, and in the fact that they were white men, than with any
threats of immediate war. So when he saluted Gordon haughtily, that
young man gave him a haughty nod in return, and bade Stedman tell the
King that he would permit him to sit down. The King did not quite
appear to like this, but he sat down, nevertheless, and nodded his
head gravely.
"Now tell him," said Gordon, "that I come from the ruler of the
greatest nation on earth, and that I recognize Ollypybus as the only
King of this island, and that I come to this little three-penny King
with either peace and presents, or bullets and war."
"Have I got to tell him he's a little threepenny King?" said Stedman,
plaintively.
"No; you needn't give a literal translation; it can be as free as you
please."
"Thanks," said the secretary, humbly.
"And tell him," continued Gordon, "that we will give presents to him
and his warriors if he keeps away from Ollypybus, and agrees to keep
away always. If he won't do that, try to get him to agree to stay away
for three months at least, and by that time we can get word to San
Francisco, and have a dozen muskets over here in two months; and when
our time of probation is up, and he and his merry men come dancing
down the hillside, we will blow them up as high as his mountains. But
you needn't tell him that, either. And if he is proud and haughty, and
would rather fight, ask him to restrain himself until we show what we
can do with our weapons at two hundred yards."
Stedman seated himself in the long grass in front of the King, and
with many revolving gestures of his arms, and much pointing to Gordon,
and profound nods and bows, retold what Gordon had dictated. When he
had finished, the King looked at the bundle of presents, and at the
guns, of which Stedman had given a very wonderful account, but
answered nothing.
"I guess," said Stedman, with a sigh, "that we will have to give him a
little practical demonstration to help matters. I am sorry, but I
think one of those goats has got to die. It's like vivisection. The
lower order of animals have to suffer for the good of the higher."
"Oh," said Bradley, Jr., cheerfully, "I'd just as soon shoot one of
those niggers as one of the goats."
So Stedman bade the King tell his men to drive a goat toward them, and
the King did so, and one of the men struck one of the goats with his
spear, and it ran clumsily across the plain.
"Take your time, Bradley," said Gordon.
"Aim low, and if you hit it, you can have it for supper."
"And if you miss it," said Stedman, gloomily, "Messenwah may have us
for supper."
The Hillmen had seated themselves a hundred yards off, while the
leaders were debating, and they now rose curiously and watched
Bradley, as he sank upon one knee, and covered the goat with his
rifle. When it was about one hundred and fifty yards off he fired, and
the goat fell over dead.
And then all the Hillmen, with the King himself, broke away on a run,
toward the dead animal, with much shouting. The King came back alone,
leaving his people standing about and examining the goat. He was much
excited, and talked and gesticulated violently.
"He says--" said Stedman; "he says--"
"What? yes, goon."
"He says--goodness me!--what do you think he says?"
"Well, what does he say?" cried Gordon, in great excitement. "Don't
keep it all to yourself."
"He says," said Stedman, "that we are deceived; that he is no longer
King of the Island of Opeki; that he is in great fear of us, and that
he has got himself into no end of trouble. He says he sees that we are
indeed mighty men, that to us he is as helpless as the wild boar
before the javelin of the hunter."
"Well, he's right," said Gordon. "Go on."
"But that which we ask is no longer his to give. He has sold his
kingship and his right to this island to another king, who came to him
two days ago in a great canoe, and who made noises as we do--with
guns, I suppose he means--and to whom he sold the island for a watch
that he has in a bag around his neck. And that he signed a paper, and
made marks on a piece of bark, to show that he gave up the island
freely and forever."
"What does he mean?" said Gordon. "How can he give up the island?
Ollypybus is the king of half of it, anyway, and he knows it."
"That's just it," said Stedman. "That's what frightens him. He said he
didn't care about Ollypybus, and didn't count him in when he made the
treaty, because he is such a peaceful chap that he knew he could
thrash him into doing anything he wanted him to do. And now that you
have turned up and taken Ollypybus's part, he wishes he hadn't sold
the island, and wishes to know if you are angry."
"Angry? of course I'm angry," said Gordon, glaring as grimly at the
frightened monarch as he thought was safe. "Who wouldn't be angry? Who
do you think these people were who made a fool of him, Stedman? Ask
him to let us see this watch."
Stedman did so, and the King fumbled among his necklaces until he had
brought out a leather bag tied round his neck with a cord, and
containing a plain stem-winding silver watch marked on the inside
"Munich."
"That doesn't tell anything," said Gordon. "But it's plain enough.
Some foreign ship of war has settled on this place as a
coaling-station, or has annexed it for colonization, and they've sent
a boat ashore, and they've made a treaty with this old chap, and
forced him to sell his birthright for a mess of porridge. Now, that's
just like those monarchical pirates, imposing upon a poor old black."
Old Bradley looked at him impudently.
"Not at all," said Gordon; "it's quite different with us; we don't
want to rob him or Ollypybus, or to annex their land. All we want to
do is to improve it, and have the fun of running it for them and
meddling in their affairs of state. Well, Stedman," he said, "what
shall we do?"
Stedman said that the best and only thing to do was to threaten to
take the watch away from Messenwah, but to give him a revolver
instead, which would make a friend of him for life, and to keep him
supplied with cartridges only as long as he behaved himself, and then
to make him understand that, as Ollypybus had not given his consent to
the loss of the island, Messenwah's agreement, or treaty, or whatever
it was, did not stand, and that he had better come down the next day,
early in the morning, and join in a general consultation. This was
done, and Messenwah agreed willingly to their proposition, and was
given his revolver and shown how to shoot it, while the other presents
were distributed among the other men, who were as happy over them as
girls with a full dance-card.
"And now, to-morrow," said Stedman, "understand, you are all to come
down unarmed, and sign a treaty with great Ollypybus, in which he will
agree to keep to one-half of the island if you keep to yours, and
there must be no more wars or goat-stealing, or this gentleman on my
right and I will come up and put holes in you just as the gentleman on
the left did with the goat."
Messenwah and his warriors promised to come early, and saluted
reverently as Gordon and his three companions walked up together very
proudly and stiffly.
"Do you know how I feel?" said Gordon.
"How?" asked Stedman.
"I feel as I used to do in the city, when the boys in the street were
throwing snowballs, and I had to go by with a high hat on my head and
pretend not to know they were behind me. I always felt a cold chill
down my spinal column, and I could feel that snowball, whether it came
or not, right in the small of my back. And I can feel one of those men
pulling his bow now, and the arrow sticking out of my right shoulder."
"Oh, no, you can't," said Stedman. "They are too much afraid of those
rifles. But I do feel sorry for any of those warriors whom old man
Messenwah doesn't like, now that he has that revolver. He isn't the
sort to practise on goats."
There was great rejoicing when Stedman and Gordon told their story to
the King, and the people learned that they were not to have their huts
burned and their cattle stolen. The armed Opekians formed a guard
around the ambassadors and escorted them to their homes with cheers
and shouts, and the women ran to their side and tried to kiss Gordon's
hand.
"I'm sorry I can't speak the language, Stedman," said Gordon, "or I
would tell them what a brave man you are. You are too modest to do it
yourself, even if I dictated something for you to say. As for me," he
said, pulling off his uniform, "I am thoroughly disgusted and
disappointed. It never occurred to me until it was all over that this
was my chance to be a war correspondent. It wouldn't have been much of
a war, but then I would have been the only one on the spot, and that
counts for a great deal. Still, my time may come."
"We have a great deal on hand for to-morrow," said Gordon that
evening, "and we had better turn in early."
And so the people were still singing and rejoicing down in the village
when the two conspirators for the peace of the country went to sleep
for the night. It seemed to Gordon as though he had hardly turned his
pillow twice to get the coolest side when some one touched him, and he
saw, by the light of the dozen glowworms in the tumbler by his
bedside, a tall figure at its foot.
"It's me--Bradley," said the figure.
"Yes," said Gordon, with the haste of a man to show that sleep has no
hold on him; "exactly; what is it?"
"There is a ship of war in the harbor," Bradley answered in a whisper.
"I heard her anchor chains rattle when she came to, and that woke me.
I could hear that if I were dead. And then I made sure by her lights;
she's a great boat, sir, and I can know she's a ship of war by the
challenging when they change the watch. I thought you'd like to know,
sir."
Gordon sat up and clutched his knees with his hands. "Yes, of course,"
he said; "you are quite right. Still, I don't see what there is to
do."
He did not wish to show too much youthful interest, but though fresh
from civilization, he had learned how far from it he was, and he was
curious to see this sign of it that had come so much more quickly than
he had anticipated.
"Wake Mr. Stedman, will you?" said he, "and we will go and take a look
at her."
"You can see nothing but the lights," said Bradley, as he left the
room; "it's a black night, sir."
Stedman was not new from the sight of men and ships of war, and came
in half dressed and eager.
"Do you suppose it's the big canoe Messenwah spoke of?" he said.
"I thought of that," said Gordon.
The three men fumbled their way down the road to the plaza, and saw,
as soon as they turned into it, the great outlines and the brilliant
lights of an immense vessel, still more immense in the darkness, and
glowing like a strange monster of the sea, with just a suggestion here
and there, where the lights spread, of her cabins and bridges. As they
stood on the shore, shivering in the cool night-wind, they heard the
bells strike over the water.
"It's two o'clock," said Bradley, counting.
"Well, we can do nothing, and they cannot mean to do much to-night,"
Albert said. "We had better get some more sleep, and, Bradley, you
keep watch and tell us as soon as day breaks."
"Ay, ay, sir," said the sailor.
"If that's the man-of-war that made the treaty with Messenwah, and
Messenwah turns up to-morrow, it looks as if our day would be pretty
well filled up," said Albert, as they felt their way back to the
darkness.
"What do you intend to do?" asked his secretary, with a voice of some
concern.
"I don't know," Albert answered gravely, from the blackness of the
night. "It looks as if we were getting ahead just a little too fast,
doesn't it? Well," he added, as they reached the house, "let's try to
keep in step with the procession, even if we can't be drum-majors and
walk in front of it." And with this cheering tone of confidence in
their ears, the two diplomats went soundly asleep again.
The light of the rising sun filled the room, and the parrots were
chattering outside, when Bradley woke him again.
"They are sending a boat ashore, sir," he said, excitedly, and filled
with the importance of the occasion. "She's a German man-of-war, and
one of the new model. A beautiful boat, sir; for her lines were laid
in Glasgow, and I can tell that, no matter what flag she flies. You
had best be moving to meet them: the village isn't awake yet."
Albert took a cold bath and dressed leisurely; then he made Bradley,
Jr., who had slept through it all, get up breakfast, and the two young
men ate it and drank their coffee comfortably and with an air of
confidence that deceived their servants, if it did not deceive
themselves. But when they came down the path, smoking and swinging
their sticks, and turned into the plaza, their composure left them
like a mask, and they stopped where they stood. The plaza was enclosed
by the natives gathered in whispering groups, and depressed by fear
and wonder. On one side were crowded all the Messenwah warriors,
unarmed, and as silent and disturbed as the Opekians. In the middle of
the plaza some twenty sailors were busy rearing and bracing a tall
flag-staff that they had shaped from a royal palm, and they did this
as unconcernedly and as contemptuously, and with as much indifference
to the strange groups on either side of them, as though they were
working on a barren coast, with nothing but the startled sea-gulls
about them. As Albert and Stedman came upon the scene, the flagpole
was in place, and the halyards hung from it with a little bundle of
bunting at the end of one of them.
"We must find the King at once," said Gordon. He was terribly excited
and angry. "It is easy enough to see what this means. They are going
through the form of annexing this island to the other lands of the
German Government. They are robbing old Ollypybus of what is his. They
have not even given him a silver watch for it."
The King was in his bungalow, facing the plaza. Messenwah was with
him, and an equal number of each of their councils. The common danger
had made them lie down together in peace; but they gave a murmur of
relief as Gordon strode into the room with no ceremony, and greeted
them with a curt wave of the hand.
"Now then, Stedman, be quick," he said. "Explain to them what this
means; tell them that I will protect them; that I am anxious to see
that Ollypybus is not cheated; that we will do all we can for them."
Outside, on the shore, a second boat's crew had landed a group of
officers and a file of marines. They walked in all the dignity of full
dress across the plaza to the flag-pole, and formed in line on the
three sides of it, with the marines facing the sea. The officers, from
the captain with a prayer-book in his hand, to the youngest middy,
were as indifferent to the frightened natives about them as the other
men had been. The natives, awed and afraid, crouched back among their
huts, the marines and the sailors kept their eyes front, and the
German captain opened his prayer-book. The debate in the bungalow was
over.
"If you only had your uniform, sir," said Bradley, Sr., miserably.