CHAPTER VI
This was a pretty astonishing request, and for a few seconds I gazedblankly at the girl.
"Good Heavens!" I said, "she must be mad to think of such a thing! AndI should be as equally mad to even entertain the idea of taking her withme in a small boat on a voyage of more than a thousand miles."
"Nay, she is not mad, Simi. And she hath set her heart on this. It wouldbe cruel to leave her to die."
"And to take her away would be still more cruel," I cried. "Such a long,long voyage is a hard and dangerous venture even for strong men--menwho should be both good navigators and good seamen. But a weak, delicatewoman--oh, it's all sheer nonsense, girl."
She put her hand on mine, and the moment I felt her warm touch, myimpatience ceased. I would argue the thing out with her, I thought, andsoon convince her that it would be impossible. Impossible--folly, utterfolly. I must not think of such a thing for a moment. And yet--andyet--I rose from my seat, walked to the window, and then turned toNiabon.
"'Tis a mad idea," I said, trying to speak angrily, and failinglamentably. "'Tis you alone, Niabon, who hath made her ask me to dothis."
"That is not true, Simi," she replied quietly, "Yet when I spoke to herof our voyage, her heart's wishes came to her lips, and I knew that shewould ask to come with thee, even as I know that thou wilt not leave herhere to die."
I could make no answer for the time. What was coming over me, thatI could listen to such a suggestion with patience? What a strangeinfluence did this girl Niabon possess that I, a sensible man, felt shecould and would make me yield to her wishes, and let a sickly, delicatewoman like Mrs. Krause accompany me on a voyage that presented nothingbut danger. The fever must have weakened my brain, I thought.
But then, on the other hand, Mrs. Krause was a free agent. She had nochildren. Her husband had just been killed. I, the only other white manon the island to whom she could look to for social intercourse at longintervals, was leaving the island. Her mind had been tortured, and herlife made miserable by her brute of a husband. Could I, as a _man_,leave her among a community of naked savages to fret out her life? Shewished to come with me. Well, I should tell her of the dangers--aye,and the horrors--of such a voyage as I was bent upon. I should concealnothing from her--nothing, absolutely nothing. I should tell her of howthe wife of the captain of the ship _Octavia_, from Sydney to Singapore,had seen her husband die, and the famishing crew of the boat whichhad left the burnt ship, drag his body from her with savage curses andthreats, and----
"Simi."
"What is it, Niabon? What would you have me do? Why do you tempt meto let this poor, weak lady accompany me on a voyage, which will, mostlikely, end in death to us all?"
"There will be danger, but no death," she replied dreamily, turning herface away from me towards the sea, and slowly extending her arms; "andthou, Simi--thou shalt gain thy heart's desire. For I have seen it all,even as I see it now."
"My heart's desire! Tell me what is my heart's desire?"
I stepped up to her and placed my hand gently on her head, and, bendingdown, saw that her eyes were closed.
"My heart's desire, Niabon? tell me what is my heart's desire," I saidagain, and as I spoke I caught my breath, and tried hard to steadymyself.
"Fame, Fame! The praise of men for a great deed! This is thy heart'sdesire, Simi. To do such things as were done by the three men of whomthou dreame----"
"What three men?" I whispered, and in an instant there flashed throughmy mind the memory of the daring deeds of Jack Collier of Tahiti, oftousle-headed Barney Watt of the _Ripple_, and big Cameron of Honolulu."Who are the three men of whom I dream?"
She pressed her hands to her bosom, and then turned her face, with hereyes still closed, to mine.
"I do not know, Simi. I cannot see beyond as I can do sometimes; for Iam tired, and many other things are in my mind. But yet I can see oneman of the three whom thou dost so often think."
"Tell me, then," and I knelt beside the girl and looked upwards to herface--"tell me of one man of the three. What is he like?"
"Simi, oh, Simi, be not too hard with me; for though I can see manyfaces, they are new and strange to me. And they quickly become faint anddim, and then vanish--but the sound of their voices seem to beat upon myclosed ears--and I cannot understand, Simi, I cannot understand."
I took her hand in mine and pressed it gently. I did not want to tormentthe poor girl, but I did want to know something more of the one man ofthe three of whom she had spoken.
"Can you tell me of the one man, Niabon?" I said gently. "Is he youngand strong, and of good looks?"
"He is not young, but is strong, and his eyes are deep-set and stern;and a great red beard flows down upon his broad chest; his feet arecovered with boots that come to the knee, and he carries a stick in hishand, for he is lame."
I started. I _knew_ whom she meant--it was Cameron of Honolulu, and hadthe man been there himself, in his rough rig-out, and leaning on hisheavy stick as he walked, she could not have described him more clearly!
"No more shall I doubt you," I cried. "I will do all you wish."
She made no answer, but sat with eyes still closed, and her bosom gentlyrising and falling as if she were asleep. Fearing that I should do hersome harm if I endeavoured to rouse her from what seemed to be a trance,I went softly away, and with a strange feeling of exaltation tinglingthrough my veins, took down my roll of charts from my book-shelf, andopening out No. 780--one of the four sheets embracing the North andSouth Pacific--studied it carefully.
"I shall do it, I shall do it," I said aloud, and already I fanciedI could see my boat sailing into either Levuka or else Apia Harbour,fifteen hundred miles away, and hear the cheers, and see the flags runup by the ships in port, as I stepped out of my boat on to the beach toreport myself to the British Consul--"Jim Sherry, master and owner of atwenty-eight feet whale-boat, from Tarawa Island, in the Gilbert Group."
It _would_ be an achievement, and I should become as well known asCameron. But--and here my vanity received a check--Cameron sailedfifteen hundred miles in a poorly equipped dinghy, and yet succeeded inreaching Jaluit in the Marshall Islands, whilst I should have everythingin my favour as far as equipment went.
But I would do more than Cameron did, I thought. If I reached eitherSamoa or Fiji safely, I would go on across to New Caledonia, andpossibly from there on to the east coast of Australia! That would besomething that had never yet been done by any one in a small boat, andwould make me famous indeed!
That night I was too excited to think of sleeping, so remained up andworked at a new jib I was making, taking care to avoid any noise, for Ifound that Niabon was now really asleep, and I did not want to disturbher.
She did not awaken till nearly midnight, just as Tematan returned. Hehanded me a note. It was from Mrs. Krause, asking me, if it would notbe inconvenient to me, would I come to Taritai in the morning, as shegreatly wished to see me on a matter of importance. I smiled at Niabonas I read it, for I could easily guess what it was that the lady was soanxious to see me about.
I started off as soon as it was daylight, and on reaching Taritaivillage found Mrs. Krause expecting me, early as it was. She was pale,but yet, I imagined, looking better than she had when we last met. Shewent into the subject at once.
"Mr. Sherry, will it not be possible for you to let me go with you inthe boat?"
"Yes, you can come. But I tell you frankly that we may never see Samoaor Fiji, for the risks of such a long voyage must necessarily be verygreat, even if we have fine weather all the way."
Her face lit up with pleasure. "It is kind of you. And you will not findme troublesome. I should go mad if I were left alone here, for Niabonhas always been such a friend to me. Whenever my husband was away, shecame and stayed with me."
This allusion to her husband, I could see, pained her, and therefore,although I knew that several parties were out in search of him, I didnot mention his name to her.
"Mr. Sherry," she said presently, "I have
a suggestion to make. One ofthe boats belonging to this station was lost, as you know, not long ago,but there is another, a large one, which was sold to some natives. Wouldyou like me to send for her, and if you like it better than your own, Ithink we could buy it back."
I knew the boat well enough by sight. She was half-decked, and althoughnot a beauty to look at, was certainly a much better and safer boat thanmy own for a long voyage. I decided to inspect her, and my hostess atonce despatched a man to the village where the boat was then lying witha message to the chief to bring her to Taritai. I told Mrs. Krause thatif the boat was seaworthy she would certainly be far preferable to myown, and that I would buy it from the natives. And then, much againstmy will, I had to ask her what she intended doing with her husband'sproperty when she left the island.
"That is one subject upon which I want your advice. Will you look at hisaccount-books, and tell me his position with the firm in Hamburg?"
Krause had kept his books very methodically, and after taking stock ofthe little trade goods that were still unsold, and counting his cash, Iwas able to tell her pretty exactly how he stood. There was about L200due to him altogether.
"What would you advise me to do?" she asked.
"As far as the house and all that is in it is concerned, you can donothing but leave it under the care of the head men of Taritai. Theywill undertake the responsibility, and hand the station over to thefirst German ship that calls."
"There will be a man-o'-war here soon, the _Elizabeth_. At least, weheard that she was likely to come here some time this year."
I said she would be doing wisely if she remained on the island, and gotthe man-of-war captain to settle up Krause's affairs; but she shudderedand looked at me in such fear that I said no more, beyond remarking thatas her husband had left no will--at least, as far as she knew--I fearedshe would have trouble in getting the amount due to him at the time ofhis death. She would probably have to go to Sydney, where there was abranch of the firm he was trading for.
"I don't want the L200," she said vehemently. "I have a little money ofmy own--about twenty dollars--and one cannot well starve anywhere in theSouth Seas. I am young and can work. I could earn my living by makingPanama hats if I could find nothing else to do."