Lannigan, who lived on Motukoe, was in debt to his firm. This was partly
due to his fondness for trade gin and partly because Bully Hayes had
called at the island a month or so back and the genial Bully and he had
played a game or two of poker.
“I'll give you your revenge when I come back from the Carolines,
Lannigan,” said the redoubtable captain as he scooped in every dollar of
the trader's takings for the past six months. And Lannigan, grasping
his hand warmly and declaring it was a pleasure to be “claned out by a
gintleman,” bade him good-bye and went to sleep away from home for a
day with some native friends. Tariro, his Manhiki wife, had a somewhat
violent temper, and during the poker incident had indulged in much
vituperative language outside, directed at white men in general and
Lannigan in particular.
*****
“See, thou swiller of gin, see what thy folly has brought us to,” said
the justly-incensed Tariro, when he came back, and with her took stock
of his trade goods; “a thousand and five hundred dollars' worth of trade
came we here with, and thou hast naught to show for it but five casks
of oil and a few stinking shark-fins; and surely the ship of the _malo_
(his firm) will be here this month.”
Lannigan was in a bit of a fix. The firm he was trading for on Motukoe
didn't do business in the same free-and-easy way as did Bobby Towns'
captains and the unconventional Bully Hayes. They made him sign papers,
and every time the ship came the rufous-headed Scotch supercargo took
stock, and a violent altercation would result over the price of the
trade; but as the trader generally had a big lot of produce for the
ship, matters always ended amicably. He--or rather his wife, Tariro--was
too good a trader to have an open rupture with, and the wordy warfare
always resulted in the trader saying, in his matter-of-fact way, “Well,
I suppose it's right enough. You only rob me wanst in twelve months, and
I rob the natives here every day of my life. Give me in a case of gin,
an' I'll send ye a pig.”
*****
But he had never been so much in debt as he was now. Tariro and he
talked it over, and hit upon a plan. He was to say, when the ship came,
that he had but five casks of oil; all his trade had been sold for cash,
and the cash--a thousand dollars--represented by a bag of copper bolts
picked up on the reef from an old wreck, was to be taken off to the ship
and accidentally dropped overboard as it was being passed up on deck.
This was Lannigan's idea, and Tariro straightway tied up the bolts in
readiness in many thicknesses of sail-cloth.
*****
“Here's Lannigan coming,” called out the captain of the trading vessel
to the supercargo, a week or so afterwards, “and that saucy Manhiki
woman as usual with him, to see that he doesn't get drunk. The devil
take such as her! There's no show of getting him tight.”
“How are you, Lannigan?” said the supercargo, wiping his perspiring
brow. He had just come out of the hold where he had been opening tinned
meats, and putting all the “blown” tins he could find into one especial
case--for Lannigan. This was what he called “makin' a mairgin for loss
on the meats, which didna pay well.”
“Fine,” said the genial Lannigan, “an' I haven't got but five casks of
oil for yez. Devil a drop av oil would the people make when they looked
at the bewtiful lot av trade ye gave me last time. They just rushed me
wid cash, an' I tuk a matter av a thousand dollars or so in a month.”
“Verra guid business,” said the supercargo, “but ye made a gran'
meestake in selling the guids for Cheelian dollars instead of oil.
An' sae I must debit ye wi' a loss of twenty-five par cent, on the
money----”
“Chile dollars be damned!” said Lannigan; “all good American
dollars--we've had about twenty whaleships here, buyin' pigs an' poultry
an' pearl shell.”
“Twenty-one ship!” said Tariro, blowing the smoke of her cigarette
through her pretty little nose.
“Whaur's the money, onyway?” said the supercargo; “let's get to
business, Lannigan. Eh, mon, I've some verra fine beef for ye.”
“Get the bag up out of the boat, Tariro,” said the trader; “it's mighty
frightened I was havin' so much money in the house at wanst, wid all
them rowdy Yankee sailors from the whaleships ashore here.”
*****
There was a great crowd of natives on deck--over a hundred--and the mate
was swearing violently at them for getting in his way. The schooner
was a very small vessel, and Motukoe being her first place of call for
cargo, she was in light trim, having only her trade and a little ballast
on board.
“Send those natives away from the galley,” he called out to the cook,
who was giving some of the young women ship-biscuits in exchange for
young cocoanuts; “can't you see the ship keeps flying up in the wind
with all those people for'ard!”
*****
Hekemanu, Lannigan's native “Man Jack,” sat in the boat towing
alongside, with the bag of “dollars” at his feet. He and all the boat's
crew were in the secret. Lannigan owned their souls; besides, they all
liked him on Motukoe.
Tariro stood for a moment beside the captain, indulging in the usual
broad “chaff,” and then leaning over the rail she called out to
Hekemanu: _Ta mai te taga tupe_ (“give me the bag of money”).
The man for'ard hauled on the line to bring the boat alongside the
schooner, and Hekemanu stood up with the heavy bag in his hand.
“Hold on there, you fool! If you drop that bag I'll knock your head
off,” said the skipper. “Here, Mr. Bates, just you jump down and take
that money from that native, or he'll drop it, sure.”
Before Hekemanu had time to let it fall over the side the mate had
jumped into the boat and taken it.
Lannigan, putting his head up out of the little cabin, groaned inwardly
as he saw the mate step over the rail with the fateful bag and hand it
to the supercargo.
“Be the powers, ye're in a mighty hurry for the money,” said Lannigan,
roughly, taking it from him, “ye might ax me if I had a mouth on me
first.”
The supercargo laughed and put a bottle of gin on the table, and
Lannigan's fertile brain commenced to work. If he could only get the
supercargo out of the cabin for a minute he meant to pick up the bag,
and declaring he was insulted get it back into his boat and tell him
to come and count it ashore. Then he could get capsized on the reef and
lose it. They were always having “barneys,” and it would only be looked
upon as one of his usual freaks.
*****
“What the deuce is that?” he said, pointing to a hideous,
highly-coloured paper mask that hung up in the cabin.
The supercargo handed it to him. “It's for a man in Samoa--a silly,
joking body, always playing pranks wi' the natives, and I thoct he would
like the thing.”
“Bedad, 'tis enough to scare the sowl out av the divil,” said Lannigan.
Just then a mob of natives came aft, and the two men in the cabin heard
the captain tell them to clear out again. They were saucy and wouldn't
go. Hekemanu had told them of the failure of Lannigan's dodge, and they
had an idea that the ship would take him away, and stood by to rescue
him at the word of command.
“I'll verra soon hunt them,” said the supercargo, with a proud smile,
and he put the mask on his face. Tariro made a bolt on deck and called
out to the natives that the supercargo was going to frighten them with a
mask.
*****
Instead of wild yells of fear and jumping overboard, as he imagined
would happen, the natives merely laughed, but edged away for'ard.
The schooner was in quite close to the reef; the water was very deep,
and there was no danger of striking. She was under jib and mainsail
only, but the breeze was fresh and she was travelling at a great rate.
The wind being right off the land the skipper was hugging the reef as
closely as possible, so as to bring up and anchor on a five-fathom patch
about a mile away.
“Here, quit that fooling,” he called out to the supercargo, “and come
aft, you fellows! The ship is that much down by the head she won't pay
off, with the helm hard up.”
One look at the crowd of natives and another at the shore, and a wild
idea came into Lannigan's head. He whispered to Tariro, who went up
for'ard and said something to the natives. In another ten seconds some
of them began to clamber out on the jib-boom, the rest after them.
“Come back!” yelled the skipper, jamming the helm hard up, as the
schooner flew up into the wind. “Leggo peak halyards. By G--d! we are
running ashore. Leggo throat halyards, too!”
The mate flew to the halyards, and let go first the peak and then the
throat halyards, but it was too late, and, with a swarm of natives
packed together for'ard from the galley to the end of the jib-boom, she
stuck her nose down, and, with stern high out of the water, like a duck
chasing flies, she crashed into the reef--ran ashore dead to windward.
*****
No one was drowned. The natives took good care of the captain, mate, and
supercargo, and helped them to save all they could. But Lannigan had a
heavy loss--the bag of copper bolts had gone to the bottom.