TOM AND MAORI BILL GO ON A BOAT VOYAGE
In the tenth day after sighting and dropping Vanikoro, and when the
beautiful islands of Fotuna and Alofi, two of the gems of the Pacific,
were plainly visible from the deck, Hayes came up from below in
unusually good temper.
'Mr. Kelly, I'm going to run into Singavi Harbour on Fotuna to buy
yams--a hundred tons, if I can get them. They will bring a thumping
price in Samoa, and we can get them for almost nothing here, and clear
over five thousand dollars.'
'Reckon thet will help you pull up some over them dead niggers.'
Hayes smiled pleasantly. 'Yes, it will about bring things even. Keep
her head for that high peak on Fotuna. We'll be there early enough to
start the natives digging this afternoon. Tom, you'll see some rare old
trading now. Come and lend me a hand in the trade-room.'
The trade-room of the Leonie was on the port side of the main cabin;
three of the state-rooms had been made into one, and shelves fitted all
round. On the upper of these such articles as prints and calicoes were
stored; the lower ones being filled with old-fashioned muskets, axes,
tomahawks, 16-inch butcher-knives, pistols, and vast numbers of
discarded short Enfield rifles with bayonets attached. On the deck were
eight or ten huge tierces of negrohead tobacco, cases of gin, and kegs
and boxes of powder.
Hayes, with Tom and a couple of the hands, were soon hard at work on a
couple of tierces of tobacco, digging out the compact layers of the
black, fragrant weed, pulling each stick apart, tying them up in bundles
of ten, and passing them on deck, where they were placed in trade boxes.
Then followed powder and bullets, caps, knives, bales of Turkey red
twill and navy blue calico.
Hayes was in such an excellent humour that the work proceeded very
pleasantly, and he talked with almost boyish exuberancy to Tom about the
island of Fotuna and the natives. They were, he said, rather a saucy
lot, and as he did not want to have his decks filled with three or four
hundred of them, and run the risk of a fight occurring between them and
his cargo of 'blackbirds,' he would do all the trading on shore, weigh
the yams on the beach, and send them off in the boats to the ship.
'They are not a bad lot of people,' he added, 'although they are all
good Catholics--that is, every man, woman, and child of them have
crucifixes hanging round their necks--and all are born thieves.
However, they know their mark, and won't try to rob _me_.'
Soon after dinner the Leonie sailed into a tiny little harbour under the
shadow of Mount Schouten, and anchored within a few yards of the beach,
and directly in front of the largest village on the island. Taking Tom
with him, the captain at once went on shore, and interviewed the leading
chief and the one white trader--an old white-headed Englishman, whom Tom
learnt afterwards was an escaped convict. A bargain was soon made, as
yams were very plentiful, no trading ship had touched at the island for
many months, and the natives were eager to sell. The chief showed Hayes
some specimens of the yam crop--three enormous vegetables, each of which
weighed sixty or seventy pounds. Then a conch-shell was sounded, and
the chief and his head men summoned the people together, and ordered
them to begin digging the yams at once.
Promising to bring the trade ashore at daylight, and begin weighing the
yams, Hayes, accompanied by the chief and the old trader--who seemed a
respectable, quiet-mannered man--returned to the ship, leaving Tom to
enjoy a few hours' pigeon-shooting along the sides of the forest-clad
mountain.
The birds were uttering their deep crooing notes everywhere around him,
as they fed upon the scarlet berries of the lofty _maso'i_ trees, and
the native lad who came with Tom as guide soon had eight or nine brace
of the fat, heavy birds to carry. Returning by the banks of a noisy
mountain stream, Tom threw himself down beside a deep crystal pool to
rest, whilst the lithe, bronze-skinned native, whose only garment was a
girdle of grass, ascended a coco-nut tree for some young drinking nuts.
The largest of these he quickly husked with his sharp white teeth, and
handed it to Tom to drink. As he drank he heard a footstep near, and
looking up he saw standing beside him a man dressed in the habit of a
priest. He saluted Tom politely, told him that he was Pere Serge, one
of the two priests living on the island, made a few inquiries about the
Leonie, frowned expressively when he heard the name of Captain Hayes,
but then said, cordially enough, that he would be pleased if Tom would
visit him.
[Illustration: LOOKING UP, HE SAW A MAN DRESSED IN THE HABIT OF A
PRIEST.]
'Thank you,' said Tom, 'I shall be very pleased to come to-morrow, if
the captain does not want me on board.'
'But you surely are not a sailor, and an officer; no, you cannot be, you
are too young?' inquired the priest in his clear English.
'I am a passenger, sir.'
The pere held up his hands. 'A passenger with such a captain, and on
such a ship! Ah! my poor sir, you have fallen into bad hands, I fear;'
and then noticing the sudden flush on Tom's cheeks, he added hurriedly,
'But never mind Captain Hayes. I shall be glad if you will come to me.
And at my mission, two miles from here, there are many more pigeons than
there are at Singavi, and the waters of this little river here are full
of very nice fish. You shall fish and shoot, and tell me of your
travels;' and he smiled as he held out his hand. 'You will not forget
to come?'
As soon as Tom returned on board he found the captain, the old trader,
and Mr. Kelly all seated together on the quarter deck, drinking,
smoking, and chatting. He was pleased to see that nearly every one of
the 'blackbirds' were also on deck, devouring with great gusto baked
pork, fish, taro, and yams, which Hayes had bought for them from the
Singavi natives. Great piles of young coco-nuts were everywhere lying
about the deck, mingled with bunches of bananas, pineapples, and baskets
of sun-dried oranges--the latter being left untouched, as the
'blackbirds,' never having seen an orange before, would not eat them.
They were all talking, and shouting, and eating at such a rate that Tom
was astonished; and his astonishment was increased when he noticed that
none of the brig's crew were armed, and that the usual guard were up
for'ard, smoking and playing cards.
As he was washing his hands in the cabin, Mr. Harvey, a young,
hard-faced, silent man of about thirty, with whom Tom seldom exchanged a
word, came below and sat down and began filling his pipe.
'What do you think of the happy-family party on deck, Mr. Wallis? I
mean the woolly-haired, black-toothed crowd.'
'Don't they seem jolly, Mr. Harvey? And they have the run of the deck,
too.'
Harvey laughed in his quiet way. 'They're all right. Did you notice
those two big iron pots with fires lit under them, on shore, just
outside the trader's house?'
'Yes, I did. Whaler's try-pots, aren't they? What is boiling in them?'
Harvey nodded. 'Only water. They belonged to the Comboy, a New Bedford
whaleship, which went ashore here a good many years ago--before you were
born. Well, about an hour ago the skipper called our "blackbirds"
together, and solemnly told them that the pots are used by the Fotuna
natives to cook strangers in, and that fires had been lighted under them
in the hope that Hayes would sell a few of his passengers every day to
make a feast. It just scared the life out of them, especially as an old
French priest happened to pass along the beach at that time, followed by
a lot of converts dressed in white sulus; Hayes pointed him out to them,
and said he was the principal "devil doctor" who, with his gang of meat
carvers, had come down to the beach to see if there was any meat ready.'
Tom laughed. 'It's funny; but do the "blackbirds" believe it?'
'Rather. And as long as we are at this island we shall have no trouble
with our cargo of niggers. They think that they would be killed, cut up,
put into those pots, and eaten by the Fotuna natives in a brace of
shakes, if Hayes gets mad with them. Oh, it's a mighty smart trick, and
saves the hands a lot of trouble.'
'But don't you think, Mr. Harvey, that it is rather a mean sort of
trick? The Catholic priests here have done a lot of good to the
natives, and redeemed them from their savage customs, have they not?
Mr. Collier said that of them.'
Harvey laughed scornfully. 'I'm a "holy Roman," lad--born and bred--but
I've sailed the South Seas for twenty years, and I know as much about
missionaries as any man, and I tell you this--these French priests here
have done a lot of good, in many ways; and yet these Fotuna natives are
taught to believe that all white men who are not Roman Catholics will be
damned.'
'Are you sure, Mr. Harvey?'
'Sure!'--and the stern-faced young officer dashed his clenched hand down
upon the cabin table--'sure! My boy, you will learn a lot before you get
back to your home again in Australia. Wait till we get to Samoa, and
there you will see what the Protestant missionaries have done, and what
the French priests have done, and you can size up the work of both
alongside, and draw your own conclusions. I am, as I said just now, a
Roman Catholic, but I know a lot about the way in which the French
priests "Christianize" the natives of these islands, and I despise many
of their ways. They have come to the South Seas under the protection of
the British flag, in British ships, following in the wake of English
missionaries who have done all the hard graft, and then they teach their
converts to hate and despise everything that is English and
Protestant--from the pennant of an admiral to the jibsheet-block of a
British trading schooner.'
'Poor Mr. Collier told me that the French missionaries, although they
cause a great deal of trouble, are very good men, Mr. Harvey.'
'Good men! Ay. Guess they're good enough in some ways. They build
their own churches and live like the Kanakas themselves, and I allow
they don't go in for making dollars. But they poison the native mind
against everything that is British or American. Why, three years ago,
when I was in Wallis Island, I went ashore to church, and the priest
there gave me a bundle of school primers printed in Samoan, and asked me
to spread 'em around amongst the natives in the Tokelau Group, on
account of the pictures.'
'Pictures?'
'Ay, pictures--pictures that would just grip the fancy of nine out of
every ten Kanakas; pictures showing how the cruel and wicked _lotu
Peretania_ (Protestant faith) was sending people to hell; pictures
showing an English missionary chasing a native woman--with thundering
lies printed at the foot; pictures showing Jesus Christ and the Virgin
Mary dressed in store clothes.'[#]
[#] _Note by the author_.--This school primer of which Harvey speaks was
actually circulated in the South Seas by the Roman Catholic
missionaries. It was printed in Marseilles, but other editions were
issued from Sydney in 1866 or 1867.
'Oh, stop, Mr. Harvey, stop! Don't speak like that! Don't laugh so
mockingly when you name our Saviour!'
'Mockingly, Tom? No! I'm a rough sailor, and a fit man to be an
officer for such a hell afloat as the brig Leonie. I'm as bad as any
man can be morally, but I am no mocker of sacred things.'
'I did not mean to hurt or offend you, Mr. Harvey. And I know that you
are neither a brute nor a bully.'
The second mate placed his hand on Tom's shoulder.
'I'm glad to hear you say that, Tom, and I wish it was true. But I was
brought up in a rough school--in the fo'c'sle of a New Bedford
whaler--and I guess I've been getting more and more of a brute and a
basher every day of my life. My father was an Irishman and a Roman
Catholic, but didn't care a cuss for the priest; my mother was not only
an Irishwoman and a holy Roman, but a bigoted one as well, and taught me
from the very first to hate and despise the Protestants; and I hated and
despised them profusely until I went to sea in the whaler, and found out
that a Protestant was just as good a sailor-man as any holy Roman. But
I was going to tell you about those pictures.'
He laughed again, and his usually gloomy face was so lit up, that Tom
could not help smiling in anticipation.
'These good, gentle priests,' continued Harvey, 'hate Englishmen and
Americans like poison; they cause more bloodshed and misery by their
lies---- There, that's all. I'm off on deck for a smoke before
supper.'
Just after supper was over Maori Bill suggested to Tom that they should
ask the captain to let them have one of the whaleboats, and go fishing
out in the deep water of the harbour. Tom at once went to Hayes, who
was pacing the main deck, talking to the old trader.
'Certainly,' he answered. 'I'd come with you myself, but Ned and I are
talking about business. Take a couple of hands with you, and bring back
a load of fish. You'll get some hundred-pounder groper, and red
rock-cod here. Oh, Bill is going with you, is he? Tell him I want to
see him for a minute or two first.'
In a few minutes Tom had his fishing-gear ready; the boat with two hands
was brought alongside, and Maori Bill, carrying a basket of young
coco-nuts in his hand, came up to the captain.
'Mr. Wallis told me you wanted to speak to me, sir.'
'Yes, Bill, I do. It is only'--and here Hayes spoke in his sauvest
tones--'it is only to say that you have done your duty as second mate to
my satisfaction. But as Mr. Kelly is now well again, and I have no need
for you on board, I am going to leave you here as a trader in place of
old Ned, who wants to make a trip to Samoa.'
The big half-caste placed his basket on the deck, and looked at Hayes
steadily.
'I don't want a trader's berth, Captain Hayes. I came aboard here to
look after young Mr. Wallis, and do second mate's duty, until Mr. Kelly
was better. That was the agreement you made with Captain Hawkins.'
Hayes's face flushed deeply. 'Man! do you know who you are talking to?'
'Yes, sir, to you. And I'm willing to go for'ard and do my duty as a
seaman if you ask me, but I'm not going to take a trader's berth ashore
to please you or anybody else. My father was a white man--as good as
you. I mean no disrespect to you, sir. But I'm not a Chileno or a
Dutchman, and won't be hazed by any man on God's earth!'
For a moment or so Hayes regarded the half-caste steadily, then he said
quietly--
'You're a bit of a fighting man, aren't you?'
'Yes, sir. But that has nothing to do with my going ashore here.'
'Put up your hands, you half-bred nigger!' and Hayes strode up to Maori
Bill with blazing eyes. 'I'll pound the life out of you in two minutes!'
[Illustration: 'PUT UP YOUR HANDS, YOU HALF-BRED NIGGER!']
'No, you won't, captain!' and Kelly, the chief mate, sprang in front of
him, and put the muzzle of a Colt's revolver against Maori Bill's chest.
'We can't afford to hev no trouble.'
In an instant the Maori seized the weapon by the barrel, wrenched it
from Kelly's hand, and threw it overboard, then lifting the mate up in
his arms, he dashed him down upon the deck, where he lay stunned.
The second mate and carpenter both made a rush at the half-caste, but
Hayes was before them.
'Keep back, Harvey! keep back, carpenter! Let me deal with him. Now,
Mr. Maori Bill, I'll teach you a lesson that will last you for a month
of Sundays!' and launching out his left hand with lightning-like
rapidity, he seized the Maori by the throat, and in a moment the two men
were struggling madly on the deck.
But the half-caste, whose herculean stature and prodigious strength made
him a match for Hayes, quickly freed himself from the captain's grip,
and then dealt him such a smashing blow over the temple with his right
hand, that Hayes staggered, and would have fallen but for Mr. Harvey.
The Maori stepped back and waited, his dark face pale with fury, and his
teeth set hard.
'That's a bit of a staggerer,' said Hayes, quietly, as he put his
handkerchief to his face. 'You're a good man, Mr. Maori Bill; but wait
a minute.'
The half-caste folded his arms across his chest. 'I do not want to fight
you, Captain Hayes, although you have called me a half-bred nigger. But
the white blood in me is as good as yours, and the mate put a pistol to
my chest. Let me alone--this sort of work don't suit me.'
'But it _shall_ suit you! I'll pound you first, Bill, then I'll make
you useful. You've as good as killed Mr. Kelly, and maybe I'll want you
as second mate again. Stand back there, Mr. Harvey.'
'Stand back yourself, sir!' cried the Maori, passionately. 'I am a
dangerous man. If I hit you again I will kill you!'
Hayes laughed contemptuously, and in another instant the two were at it
again, fighting with such silent ferocity that even the savage natives
surrounding them drew back in terror. But Hayes was at a disadvantage,
for he could scarcely see; and presently the Maori struck him a terrific
blow on the chin, which sent him reeling across the deck, and ended the
fight. And then two or three Chilenos and the carpenter sprang upon the
half-caste and bore him down, some of them striking him repeatedly in
the face. But once again he freed himself, rose to his feet, and sent
one of his Chileno assailants down with a broken jaw; then Harvey dealt
him a fearful blow on the top of his head with an iron belaying-pin, and
stunned him.
'Ah! you coward!' and Tom sprang at the second mate with clenched hands.
'You coward, Mr. Harvey! You have killed him!' and then he knelt down
and looked into Bill's face.
Harvey laughed sullenly. 'He had to be settled one way or another.'
Ten minutes later, when the half-caste regained consciousness, he found
himself in irons in the for'ard deckhouse, and Tom seated beside him,
bathing his head with cold water.
'Bill,' said Tom, taking his hand, 'we must leave this ship.'
The Maori turned his bloodshot eyes on Tom for a moment or two.
'I am quite ready to leave her, sir; but I doubt if I can get away now,'
and he held up his manacled hands.
'I won't go without you, Bill. And as for the handcuffs, I can set you
free at any moment. I know where I can put my hand on half a dozen keys
in the cabin. But first I shall tell the captain I am leaving the
ship.'
Bill protested vigorously at this suggestion. Hayes, he said, was so
unreliable and changeful, that it would be folly to tempt him to another
burst of temper. 'I know more of him than you do,' he added; 'he will
never forgive me, and will make my life a hell to me unless I bend to
him.'
Tom thought a moment. He did not like the idea of leaving the Leonie in
a surreptitious manner, but leave her he would, for Hayes's treatment of
Maori Bill he regarded as wrong and cruel.
'Very well, Bill,' he said, 'I shall say nothing; but I don't like
sneaking away.'
'He won't let you go over the side if you tell him--you'll only rouse
all the devil in him again,--and we'll be all right here, Mr. Wallis, on
this island, once we get ashore. I speak Samoan well, and these people
understand it. We can live here very comfortably until a whaleship or
trading schooner comes along.'
The two conversed for a few minutes longer, and agreed to get ashore
that night, either swimming or in a chance canoe. Then Tom rose to go
aft again, get some supper, and make such preparations as he could, and
then return with a key to unlock the handcuffs.
It was now becoming dark, and just as Tom stepped out on to the deck
Hayes met him. His head was bound up, and the moment he spoke Tom knew
that he was in a white heat of passion.
'What are you doing here?' he demanded hoarsely.
'I was speaking to Mr. Chester, sir.'
Hayes laughed cynically. 'I'll "mister" him, the yellow-hided soldier!
Here, boatswain, bring a light, and tell Jules to come here with his
green bag.'
A light was produced, and Hayes, attended by the boatswain and the negro
Jules, went inside the house. Tom followed, burning with indignation,
and determined to prevent the unfortunate Maori from being flogged.
'Take his irons off,' said the captain, speaking in the same low but
savage tone he had used when addressing Tom.
The handcuffs were unlocked, the leg-shackles removed, and the prisoner
stood up.
'Now, Bill,' said Hayes, 'I'm not going to round on you for hitting me
in fair fight, but you've nearly murdered the mate.'
'You can stow all that, sir. I don't believe you.'
The captain apparently did not heed the interruption.
'And now I've come to talk to you a bit. Will you go ashore here and
trade for me?'
'No, I won't. I am willing to go to Samoa and do second mate's duty as
I did before, but I am not going to be separated from Mr. Wallis. I
have my orders from Captain Hawkins.'
'Very well'--and then he gave vent to his suppressed fury--'if you won't
do as I want you, I'll give you a flogging, and chuck you over the side
to drown, you mutinous Maori dog! Either that, or turn-to again.'
'For my sake, Captain Hayes, think of what you are doing! Surely you
won't flog a man because he beat you, as you say yourself, in fair
fight? No _man_ would do such a thing.'
The Maori's right hand gripped Tom by the wrist, and he uttered a low
warning, 'Sh! Not a word more. I'll fool him.'
Hayes turned furiously upon Tom. 'Away out of this, boy, and do not
meddle with matters which do not concern you!'
'But this _does_ concern me, sir?' began Tom, when Bill interrupted him.
'I'll give in, captain. I'll do whatever you want, but I don't like
leaving Mr. Wallis. And I'm willing to turn-to again this minute.
Come, captain, I'm a good sailor-man.'
Hayes's mood changed instantly. 'Very well, Bill, we won't quarrel.
But we'll have another talk in the morning. Perhaps I'll keep you on
board. Jules, clear out. What are you hanging about here for? Go aft
and tell the steward to get Mr. Chester some supper. Tom, I'm going
ashore. Do you care to come?'
'No, thank you,' said Tom, bluntly, 'I'll stay and get some supper too.'
Hayes smiled good-naturedly. 'Oh, well, just as you please. Bill, did
I hurt you at all?'
Bill tried to look pleased. 'Nearly broke one of my ribs, sir.'
Half an hour later Hayes, old Ned the trader, and the carpenter were on
their way ashore, and Tom and the half-caste were having supper and
talking in low, whispered tones.
'He will not be back before midnight,' whispered Bill, 'I heard him say
so. We can easily get away. The whaleboat is astern. Get as many
things as you can, and put them on the transom here. The mate is in his
own bunk, and there is no one to see you. I'll slip overboard at eight
o'clock, and bring the boat up under the port. There is a strong breeze,
and the night is very dark. We can manage it. I have five English
sovereigns. Have you any money?'
Tom nodded. 'Fifteen. Captain Hawkins lent them to me.'
The Maori's hand gripped his shoulder. 'That will do us. Charlie, the
white sailor, is on watch aft. Go up to him and give him ten
sovereigns; don't say anything--just put them in his hand and come away;
he'll most likely come with us. And I'll give the steward another, to
go for'ard and keep out of the way.'
An hour after supper the whaleboat, which was lying astern, seemed to
drift right up under the stern ports. She remained stationary for a
minute or two, then veered away again, and was lost in the darkness,
drifting steadily out to sea before the strong trade wind.
But as the lofty spars of the Leonie became indistinct, and the lights
of the native houses on shore grew dimmer and dimmer, Maori Bill sprang
to his feet with a laugh, and he and Charlie hoisted the sail.
It's all right, Mr. Wallis. We have a rattling good boat, plenty of
food and arms, but only a little water. We'll have to get some at
Alofi. I know where we can land at daylight and get all we want. And I
and Charlie have given Captain Hayes something to do that will keep him
from coming after us.'
'What have you done, Bill?'
The Maori grinned at him through the darkness, as he stood at the long
steer-oar.
'We've made a couple of holes into the brig, one for'ard and one aft,
and it'll take some time to find 'em out. She'll have four feet of
water into her before the skipper comes aboard again. And Charlie here
gave the hands a gallon of rum to keep 'em amused. I'd have set fire to
her only for that.'
'But she may founder, and drown some of the people!' cried Tom.
'Don't be alarmed about that, Mr. Wallis. No one will be drowned. Even
if she fills before the holes are discovered, she can't sink, for
there's only six or eight feet of water between her keel and the
bottom--she'll take the ground nice and easy.'
Then he struck a match and lit his pipe, and as he puffed out the first
whiffs of smoke he turned and shook his fist at the vanishing land.
'Good-bye to you, Mr. Bully Hayes. I feel a bit better now than I did
an hour ago. I'm even with you, anyway. Mr. Wallis, you lie down and
sleep. We shall call you when we are running into the fresh-water river
at Alofi.'
'And after, Bill?'
'For Fiji, I think, sir. We can run down there in two days easily.
Plenty of ships there, sir, an' we'll be in Australia in another month
or two.'
Exhausted and excited with the events of the past few hours, Tom lay
down in the stern sheets, and the whaleboat leapt and spun along in the
darkness towards the scarcely discernible outline of Alofi Island.