“Why, sir, the boat is sinking. Pull hard, boys, pull for the brig. The
water's coming in wholesale over the gunwale. Hadn't you fellows enough
sense to leave a place to bale from?” and he slewed the boat's head for
the brig.
She had two boats astern. We were just in time to get alongside one and
pitch about two tons of yams into her, or we would have sunk.
The noise we made was heard on the brig, and a head was put out of
one of the ports, and a voice hailed us. This was the brig's owner and
captain, W------.
“Come on board and have a cigar!” he called out.
Leaving the crew to bale out and re-ship the yams, we clambered on deck.
Now, this brig and her captain had a curious history. She was, two years
before, as well-found a whaleship as ever sailed the Pacific, but by
some extraordinary ill-luck she had never taken a fish during a cruise
of seven months, although in the company of others that were doing well.
The master, one of those fanatically religious New Englanders that
by some strange irony of fate may be often met with commanding vilely
licentious crews of whaleships, was a skilled and hitherto lucky man. On
reaching Ponape the whole of his officers and crew deserted _en masse_
and went off in other ships. Utterly helpless, W------ was left by
himself. There were, of course, plenty of men to be had in Ponape, but
the ship's reputation for bad luck damned his hopes of getting a fresh
crew.
Whether the man's brain was affected by his troubles I know not, but
after living like a hermit for a year, alone on the brig, a sudden
change took place in his character and conduct. Sculling ashore in
one of his boats--she was a four-boat ship--he had an interview with
Nanakin, the chief of the Jakoit's district, and returned on board with
five or six young girls, to whom he gave permanent quarters on board,
selling from time to time his sails, whaling gear, and trade to keep his
harem in luxury. At the end of a year the brig was pretty well stripped
of all of any value; and W------ went utterly, hopelessly mad.
*****
The brig's cabin was large and roomy. The table that had once nearly
filled it had been taken away, and the floor covered with those
peculiarly made Ponape mats which, by rolling up one-half of either end,
forms a combined couch and pillow. As Hickson and I, following the crazy
little captain, made our appearance, some four young girls, who were
lolling about on the mats, started up, and looked at us with big,
wondering eyes, ablaze with curiosity.
Both Hickson and myself--and he had roved throughout Polynesia from his
boyhood--were struck by the extraordinary beauty of these four young
creatures; so young and innocent in looks; in sin, as old as Ninon
d'Enclos.
Placing one hand on the shoulder of the girl nearest to him, and fixing
his big, blue, deep-set eyes on us, W------waved the other towards the
girls, and said--
“Welcome, gentlemen, welcome. Behold these little devils, who in the
guise of sunburnt angels are the solace of a man forgotten by his God,
and the father of a family residing in Martha's Vineyard, United States
of America.”
Then he gave us each a cigar and told us to be seated while he got us a
glass of New England rum.
*****
Hickson, with a contemptuous smile, sat with folded arms on a short,
heavy stool. One of the girls, unshipping one of the two lights from the
hook on which it hung, followed W------into a state-room to get the
rum. Presently we heard them coming out, W------ carrying a
wickerwork-covered five-gallon jar; but two girls came out instead of
one. The stranger kept close to W------, one hand holding the sleeve of
his shirt.
Stooping as he set the jar on the floor, I had a good view of the
new-comer, and a deadly fear seized me. I knew at once that she was
Hickson's sister! He was coarse and rough-looking, but yet a handsome
man, and this girl's likeness to him was very striking. Just then
Hickson, not even noticing her, rose and said he was going on deck to
see if the boat was ready, when the strange quavering tones of W------
arrested him.
“Be seated, sir, for another minute. Nijilon, get some glasses. You see
here, gentlemen, the fairest and choicest or all my devil-vestals, one
that------”
Hickson looked at her, and with a terrified wail the girl clutched
W------'s arm, and placed her face against his breast. With lips drawn
back from his white teeth the half-caste sprang up, and his two clenched
hands pawed the air. Then from his throat there came a sound like a
laugh strangled into a groan.
Scarce knowing what I did I got in front of him, He dashed me aside as
if I were a child, and seized the stool. And as he swung it round above
his head the girl raised a face like the hue of death to his; then the
blow fell, and she and W------ went down together.
******
Hickson rushed on deck and tried to spring overboard. I think he must
have struck the main boom, for one of our crew who was on deck heard
him fall. We got a light, and found him lying senseless. Two of the
“vestals” held him up while I went below for some rum and water. W------
was lying where he had fallen, breathing heavily, but not seriously
injured as far as I could see. But one look at the closed eyes of the
girl told me she was past all help. The heavy stool had struck her on
the temple.
Placing Hickson in the boat with two men to mind mm, I took the other
two with me into the cabin of the brig. W------ was seated on the floor,
held up by two of his harem, and muttering unintelligibly to himself.
The other two were bending over the figure on the floor, and placing
their hands on her bosom.
“Come away from here, L------,” said Harry, one of our Rotumah boys, to
me; “if the Ponape men come off, they will kill us all.”
We could do nothing, so we got back into the boat, and with the still
senseless body of Hickson lying at our feet, pulled out to the ship.
******
When he came to he was a madman, and for his own safety our captain
put him in irons. We put to sea next day, our skipper, like a wise man,
saying it would go hard with us if W------ died, and four Yankee whalers
in port.
The day after we got away Hickson was set at liberty, and went about his
duties as usual. At nightfall I went into his deck cabin. He was lying
in his bunk, in the dark, smoking. He put out his hand, and drew me
close up to him.
“Harry says she is dead?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Poor little Kãtia; I never meant to hurt her But I am glad she is
dead.”
And he smoked his pipe in silence.