Soon after they had left Harvey the Manhikian and Huka parted, each
preferring to take his own way, Roka laughingly telling his comrade that
although he, Roka, had no spear, he would bring back a turtle.
“In my land of Manihiki we trouble not about spears. We dive after the
turtle and drag them ashore.”
“Thou boaster,” replied the Savage Islander good-naturedly, as he
stepped briskly down the hard, white sand towards the water, his sturdy,
reddish-brown body naked to the waist, and his brawny right arm twirling
the heavy turtle-spear about his head as if it were a bamboo wand. “I go
into the lagoon, whither goest thou?”
Roka pointed ahead. “Along the beach towards the islet with the high
trees. May we both be lucky in our fishing.”
In a few minutes he was out of sight and hearing of his shipmate, for
the beach took a sudden curve round a low, densely-verdured point, on
the other side of which it ran in an almost straight line for a mile.
Suddenly he paused and shaded his eyes with his hand as he caught sight
of a dark object lying on the sand.
“'Tis a boat,” he muttered, and in another moment he was speeding
towards it. When within a few hundred yards he stopped and then crouched
upon his hands and knees, his dark eyes gleaming with excitement.
“It is the captain's boat,” he said to himself, as lying flat upon his
stomach he dragged himself over the sand into the shelter of the low
thicket scrub which fringed the bank at high-water mark. Once there,
he stood up, and watched carefully. Then stripping off his clothes and
throwing them aside, he sped swiftly along an old native path, which ran
parallel to the beach, till he was abreast of the boat. Then he crouched
down again and listened. No sound broke the silence except the call of
the sea-birds and the drone of the surf upon the reef.
He waited patiently, his keen eyes searching and his quick ear
listening; then creeping softly along on his hands and knees again, he
examined the sandy soil. In a few minutes his search was rewarded, for
he came across the footmarks of Chard and the captain, leading to the
vine-covered boulders under the shelter of which they had made their
camp. Following these up, he was soon at the place itself, and examining
the various articles lying upon the ground--provisions, clothing, the
roll of charts, sextant. Leaning against the rocky wall was a Snider
carbine. He seized it quickly, opened the breach, and saw that it was
loaded; then he made a hurried search for more cartridges, and found
nearly a dozen tied up in a handkerchief with about fifty Winchesters.
These latter he quickly buried in the sand, and then with his eyes
alight with the joy of savage expectancy of revenge, he again sought and
found the tracks of the two men, which led in the very direction from
which he had come.
To a man like Roka there was no difficulty in following the line which
Hendry and the supercargo had taken; their footsteps showed deep in the
soft, sandy soil, rendered the more impressionable by the heavy downfall
of rain a few hours before. And even had they left no traces underfoot
of their progress, the countless broken branches and vines which they
had pushed or torn aside on their way through the forest were a sure
guide to one of Nature's children, whose pursuit was quickened by
his desire for vengeance upon the murderers of his brother and his
shipmates.
Pushing his way through a dense strip of the tough, thorny scrub called
_ngiia_, he suddenly emerged into the open once more--on the weather
side of the island. First his eye ran along the sand to discover which
way the footsteps trended; they led southwards towards a low, rugged
boulder whose sides and summit were thickly clothed with a thick,
fleshy-leaved creeper. Beyond that lay the bare expanse of reef, along
which he saw Harvey Carr was walking towards the shore, unconscious of
danger. And right in his line of vision he saw Chard, who, kneeling
amid the foliage of the boulder, was covering Harvey with his rifle; in
another instant the supercargo had fired, Roka dropped on one knee and
raised his Snider carbine, just as Sam Chard turned to Hendry with a
smile upon his handsome, evil face, and waved his hand mockingly towards
the prone figure of Harvey.
“That's one more to the good, Louis----” he began, when Roka's carbine
rang out, and the supercargo spun round, staggering, and then fell upon
his hands and knees, with the blood gushing in torrents from his mouth.
Hendry, taking no heed of anything but his own safety, dashed into the
undergrowth and disappeared.
Running past Chard, rifle in hand, the Manhikian launched a curse at the
groaning man, who heard him not in his agony. Leaping from pool to pool
over the rough, jagged coral, which cut and tore his feet and legs, the
seaman sprang to Harvey's aid, and a hoarse sob of joy burst from him
when he saw that he was not dead.
“My thigh is broken, Roka. Carry me to the shore quickly, and then
haste, haste, good Roka, and warn the others. These men of Pikirami are
traitors. Haste thee, dear friend, if ye be a good man and true, and
help to save the woman who is dear to me.”
Tearing off the sleeves of Harvey's shirt, Roka, as he answered, bound
them tightly over the wound to stay the flow of blood. “Nay, master,
'tis not the men of Pikirami. 'Tis the captain and the _tuhi tuhi_{*}
who have done this to thee. Nay, question me no more... so, gently, let
me lift thee.”
He raised Harvey up in his mighty arms as if he were a child, his right
hand still grasping the Snider carbine, and carried him carefully to the
beach. There he laid him down for a while.
“Stay not here with me, Roka of Manhiki,” said Harvey, trying hard
to speak calmly, though he was suffering the greatest agony from his
wound--“stay not here, but run, run quickly, so that there may be no
more murder done. Leave me here.... Tell the _sua alii_{**} to get the
people together and hunt and slay those two men. Give them no mercy.”
* I.e., one who writes--a supercargo or clerk.
** The mate, chief officer--one next in command to a
captain.
“No mercy shall they have,” said the Manhikian grimly; “so rest thee
content for a little while.... _Aue!_”
He sprang to his feet, carbine in hand, for from out the thickset jungle
there emerged a thing of horror to look upon.
Chard, leaning upon his Winchester, was staggering down to the beach,
with his lower jaw shot away. He came blindly on towards the man he had
sought to murder, gasping and groaning. Then he saw Roka, dropped his
Winchester, threw up his hands, and tried to speak.
Roka walked up to him.
“'Tis better for thee to die quickly,” he said.
The supercargo swayed to and fro, and mutely held out both hands to
Harvey as if imploring help or forgiveness.
Roka drew back, and planted his left foot firmly in the sand, as he
placed the muzzle of his carbine against Chard's breast, and Chard,
grasping the barrel in his left hand to steady himself, bent his
dreadful face upon his chest.
*****
As the loud report reverberated through the leafy forest aisles there
came the sound of rushing feet, and Malua and the rest of the crew of
the Motutapu, together with the six Pikirami natives, burst through the
undergrowth, and gazed in wonder at the scene before them--Harvey lying
on the sand, Roka with his still-smoking rifle in his hand, standing
over the dead body of Chard.
Too weak from loss of blood to answer Malua's weeping inquiries, Harvey
yet managed to smile at him, and indicate Roka by a wave of his hand.
Then the Manhikian spoke.
“No time is there now to tell ye all. Run back, some of ye, to the _sua
alii_ Atkins, and tell him that I have killed the man Chard, but that
the captain hath escaped. Get thee each a rifle and follow him. He hath
fled towards his boat, which lieth on the little island with the high
trees. Follow, follow quickly, lest he drag the boat into the water
and sail away. Slay him. Let his blood run out. And tell the _sua alii_
Atkins and the white girl that Harfi hath been sorely hurt, but is well,
and will not die, for it is but a broken bone.”
Five or six men darted off, while the rest, under Roka's directions,
quickly made a litter for Harvey, and placed him upon it.
“Art thou in pain, master?” asked the giant Manhikian tenderly, as the
bearers lifted the wounded man.
“Ay, but let me smoke so that the pain may go. And one of ye go to where
I fell on the reef and bring me the five pule,{*} lest when the tide
cometh in they be lost.”
* Cowries.
Roka himself ran off, picked up the hat and shells and brought them
back; then he gave the word to march.
Half-way through the forest they were met by Atkins and Tessa, who were
accompanied by the entire population of the village, except those of the
young men who had set off in pursuit of Hendry.
“I'm all right, Tessa,” said Harvey; “it's only a broken bone. Atkins,
old man, don't look so worried. You can set it easily enough. Good man,
you've brought some rum, I see, and 'I willna say no,' as poor Morrison
used to say.”
Atkins, whose hand was shaking with excitement, for he thought that
perhaps Harvey was mortally wounded and was only assuming cheerfulness,
gave him a stiff tot of rum.
“Here's luck to you, Atkins. Tessa dear, don't cry. Atkins will fix me
up in a brace of shakes as soon as we get to the village. And look here,
Tess. See what I found upon the reef.”
*****
Long before sunset Harvey was sleeping quietly in the head-man's house,
with Tessa and Maoni watching beside him. Atkins had carefully set
the broken limb with broad splints of coconut-spathe; and, proud and
satisfied with his work, was pacing to and fro outside the house,
smoking his pipe.
Presently Latour and Malua appeared, and the Frenchman beckoned to the
second mate.
“What is it, steward?”
“Huka has just come back, sir. He wants to see you. The captain is
dead.”
“Thank God for that. Where did they get him?”
“Huka will tell you, sir. Here he is.”
The Savage Islander stepped forward, and raised his hand in salute, with
a smile of pride upon his lips.
“I been kill him,” he said in his broken English; “I was come along back
to meet Mr. Harvey, when I hear the guns. And then I see the captain
come, running quick. He have Winchester in his hand, and when he see
me he stop. He fire two, three times at me. Then I run up to him, and I
drive my turtle spear through him, and he fall down and I put my foot on
his mouth, and he die.”
Atkins slapped him on the shoulder. “Good man you, Huka! Stay here a
moment, and I'll bring you a big drink of rum. Then we must go and bury
both the swine.”
*****
Three weeks later the _Sikiana_ sailed into the lagoon, and the “good
little Dutch skipper,” of whom Harvey had spoken, had him brought on
board and placed in his bunk for the voyage to Ponapé.
“My tear Mees Tessa,” he said, “Mr. Carr haf dold me dat your fader vill
gif me five hundred dollar ven ve get to Ponapé. If der _Sikiana_ vas
mein own ship I vould dake you und Mr. Carr and der second mate und all
your natives to Ponapé for nodings; for your fader vas a good man to me,
und Harvey Carr vas a good man to me ven I sailed mit him in the _Belle
Brandon_. But you must invide old Westphalen to the wedding.”
“Indeed we shall, captain.”
“And me too, miss?” asked Atkins, with a sly twinkle in his eye.
“And you too, of course, dear, dear Atkins, so good, brave, and true.
There, look, Harvey, I am going to kiss Mr. Atkins.”
“God bless you both, miss,” said the mate huskily.