There was a wild rush of naked, scurrying feet, and a quick panting
of brown bosoms along the winding path that led to Baldwin's house at
Rikitea. A trading schooner had just dropped anchor inside the reef,
and the runners, young lads and girls--half-naked, lithe-limbed and
handsome--like all the people of the “thousand isles,” wanted to welcome
Baldwin the Trader at his own house door.
*****
Two of them--a boy and girl--gained the trader's gate ahead of their
excited companions, and, leaning their backs against the white palings,
mocked the rest for their tardiness in the race. With one arm around the
girl's lissom waist, the boy, Maturei, short, thickset, muscular, and
the bully of the village, beat off with his left hand those who sought
to displace them from the gate; and the girl, thin, créole-faced,
with soft, red-lipped mouth, laughed softly at their vexation. Her
gaily-coloured grass waist girdle had broken, and presently moving the
boy's protecting arm, she tried to tie the band, and as she tied it she
rattled out oaths in English and French at the score of brown hands that
sought to prevent her.
“_Hui! Hui!!_ Away, ye fools, and let me tie my girdle,” she said in the
native tongue. “'Tis no time now for such folly as this; for, see, the
boat is lowered from the ship and in a little time the master will be
here.”
The merry chatter ceased in an instant and every face turned towards the
schooner, and a hundred pair of curious eyes watched. Then, one by one,
they sat down and waited; all but the two at the gate, who remained
standing, the boy's arm still wound round the girl's waist.
*****
The boat was pulling in swiftly now, and the “click-clack” of the
rowlocks reached the listening ears of those on shore.
There were two figures in the stern, and presently one stood up, and
taking off his hat, waved it towards the shore.
A roar of welcome from the thronging mass of natives that lined the
beach drowned the shrill, piping treble of the children round the gate,
and told sturdy old Tom Baldwin that he was recognised, and scarce had
the bow of the boat ploughed into the soft sand of the beach when he
was seized upon and smothered with caresses, the men with good-natured
violence thrusting aside the women and forming a body-guard to conduct
him and the young man with him from the boat to the house. And about
the strange white man the people thronged with inquiring and admiring
glances, for he was big and strong-looking--and that to a native mind is
better than all else in the world.
With joyous, laughing clamour, the natives pressed around the white men
till the gate was reached, and then fell back.
The girl stepped forward, and taking the trader's hand, bent her
forehead to it in token of submission.
“The key of this thy house, Tâmu,” she murmured in the native tongue, as
she placed it in his hand.
“Enter thou first, Loisé,” and he waved it away.
A faint smile of pleasure illumined her face; Baldwin, rough and
careless as he was, was yet studious to observe native custom.
The white men followed her, and then in the open doorway Baldwin
stopped, turned, and raised his hand, palm outwards, to the throng of
natives without.
“I thank thee, friends, for thy welcome. Dear to mine ears is the sound
of the tongue of the men of Rikitea. See ye this young man here. He
is the son of my friend who is now dead--he whom some of ye have seen,
Kapeni Paraisi” (Captain Brice).
A tall, broad-shouldered native, with his hair streaming down over his
shoulders, strode up the steps, and taking the young man's hand in his,
placed it to his forehead.
“The son of Paraisi is welcome to Rikitea, and to me, the chief of
Rikitea.”
There was a murmur of approval; Baldwin waved his hand again, and then,
with Brice, entered the house.
Outside, the boy and girl, seated on the verandah steps, talked and
waited for orders.
Said Maturei, “Loisé, think you that now Tâmu hath found thee to be
faithful to his house and his name that he will marry thee according to
the promise made to the priests at Tenararo when he first brought thee
here?”
She took a thick coil of her shining black hair and wound it round and
round her hand meditatively, looking out absently over the calm waters
of the harbour.
“Who knows, Maturei? And I, I care not. Yet do I think it will be so;
for what other girl is there here that knoweth his ways, and the ways
of the white men as I know them? And this old man is a glutton; and, so
that my skill in baking pigeons and making _karri_ and rice fail me not,
then am I mistress here.... Maturei, is not the stranger an evil-looking
man?”
“Evil-looking!” said the boy, wonderingly; “nay, how canst thou say that
of him?”
*****
“What a jolly old fellow he is, and how these people adore him!” thought
Brice, as they sat down to dinner. Two or three of the village girls
waited upon them, and in the open doorway sat a vision of loveliness,
arrayed in yellow muslin, and directing the movements of the girls by
almost imperceptible motions of her palm-leaf fan.
Brice was strangely excited. The novelty of the surroundings, the
wondrous, bright beauty of sea, and shore, and palm-grove that lay
within his range of vision were already beginning to weave their fetal
spell upon his susceptible nature. And then, again and again, his glance
would fall upon the sweet, oval face and scarlet lips of the girl that
sat in the doorway. Who was she? Not old Baldwin's wife, surely! for had
not the old fellow often told him that he was not married?... And what
a lovely spot to live in, this Rikitea! By Jove, he would like to stay a
year here instead of a few months only.... Again his eyes rested on
the figure in the doorway--and then his veins thrilled--Loisé, lazily
lifting her long, sweeping lashes had caught his admiring glance.
*****
Brice was no fool with women--that is, he thought so, never taking
into consideration that his numerous love affairs had always ended
disastrously--to the woman. And his mother, good simple soul, had
thought that the best means of taking her darling son away from
unapproved-of female society would be a voyage to the islands with old
Tom Baldwin!
Dinner was finished, and the two men were sitting out on the verandah
smoking and drinking whisky, when Brice said, carelessly--
“I wonder you never married, Baldwin.”