He expounded at length, with firstlies and secondlies and all minorsubdivisions of argument, on organization, and order, and civilization.He contended that the trader was the bearer of civilization, and thatthe trader must be protected in his trade else he would not come. Overto the westward were islands which would not protect the traders. Whatwas the result? The traders would not come, and the people were likewild animals. They wore no clothes, no silk shirts (here he peered andblinked significantly at the king), and they ate one another.
The queer paper of the Feathers of the Sun was not money. The tradersknew what money was, and they would not receive it. If Fitu-Ivapersisted in trying to make them receive it they would go away and nevercome back. And then the Fitu-Ivans, who had forgotten how to make tapa,would run around naked and eat one another.
Much more he said, talking a solid hour, and always coming back to whattheir dire condition would be when the traders came no more. "And inthat day," he perorated, "how will the Fitu-Ivan be known in the greatworld? _Kai-kanak_* will men call him. '_Kiakanak! Kai-kanak!_"
* Man-eater.
Tui Tulifau spoke briefly. The case had been presented, he said, for thepeople, the army, and the traders. It was now time for Feathers of theSun to present his side. It could not be denied that he had wroughtwonders with his financial system. "Many times has he explained to methe working of his system," Tui Tulif au concluded. "It is very simple.And now he will explain it to you."
It was a conspiracy of the white traders, Cornelius contended. Ieremiawas right so far as concerned the manifold blessings of white flourand kerosene oil. Fitu-Iva did not want to become _kai-kanak_. Fitu-Ivawanted civilization; it wanted more and more civilization. Now that wasthe very point, and they must follow him closely. Paper money was anearmark of higher civilization. That was why he, the Feathers of theSun, had introduced it. And that was why the traders opposed it. Theydid not want to see Fitu-Iva civilized. Why did they come across the farocean stretches with their goods to Fitu-Iva? He, the Feathers of theSun, would tell them why, to their faces, in grand council assembled. Intheir own countries men were too civilized to let the traders make theimmense profits that they made out of the Fitu-Ivans. If the Fitu-Ivansbecame properly civilized, the trade of the traders would be gone. Inthat day every Fitu-Ivan could become a trader if he pleased.
That was why the white traders fought the system of paper money, thathe, the Feathers of the Sun, had brought. Why was he called the Feathersof the Sun? Because he was the Light-Bringer from the World Beyond theSky. The paper money was the light. The robbing white traders could notflourish in the light. Therefore they fought the light.
He would prove it to the good people of Fitu-Iva, and he would proveit out of the mouths of his enemies. It was a well-known fact that allhighly civilized countries had paper-money systems. He would ask Ieremiaif this was not so.
Ieremia did not answer.
"You see," Cornelius went on, "he makes no answer. He cannot deny whatis true. England, France, Germany, America, all the great _Papalangi_countries, have the paper-money system. It works. From century tocentury it works. I challenge you, Ieremia, as an honest man, as onewho was once a zealous worker in the Lord's vineyard, I challenge you todeny that in the great _Papalangi_ countries the system works."
Ieremia could not deny, and his fingers played nervously with thefastening of the basket on his knees.
"You see, it is as I have said," Cornelius continued. "Ieremia agreesthat it is so. Therefore, I ask you, all good people of Fitu-Iva, ifa system is good for the _Papalangi_ countries, why is it not good forFitu-Iva?"
"It is not the same!" Ieremia cried. "The paper of the Feathers of theSun is different from the paper of the great countries."
That Cornelius had been prepared for this was evident. He held up aFitu-Ivan note that was recognized by all.
"What is that?" he demanded.
"Paper, mere paper," was Ieremia's reply.
"And that?"
This time Cornelius held up a Bank of England note.
"It is the paper money of the English," he explained to the Council,at the same time extending it for Ieremia to examine. "Is it not true,Ieremia, that it is paper money of the English?"
Ieremia nodded reluctantly.
"You have said that the paper money of Fitu-Iva was paper, now how aboutthis of the English? What is it?.... You must answer like a true man...All wait for your answer, Ieremia."
"It is--it is----" the puzzled Ieremia began, then splutteredhelplessly, the fallacy beyond his penetration.
"Paper, mere paper," Cornelius concluded for him, imitating his haltingutterance.
Conviction sat on the faces of all. The king clapped his handsadmiringly and murmured, "It is most clear, very clear."
"You see, he himself acknowledges it." Assured triumph was in Deasy'svoice and bearing. "He knows of no difference. There is no difference.'Tis the very image of money. 'Tis money itself."
In the meantime Grief was whispering in Ieremia's ear, who nodded andbegan to speak.
"But it is well known to all the _Papalangi_ that the English Governmentwill pay coin money for the paper."
Deasy's victory was now absolute. He held aloft a Fitu-Ivan note.
"Is it not so written on this paper as well?"
Again Grief whispered.
"That Fitu-Iva will pay coin money?" asked Ieremia
"It is so written."
A third time Grief prompted.
"On demand?" asked Ieremia.
"On demand," Cornelius assured him.
"Then I demand coin money now," said Ieremia, drawing a small package ofnotes from the pouch at his girdle.
Cornelius scanned the package with a quick, estimating eye.
"Very well," he agreed. "I shall give you the coin money now. How much?"
"And we will see the system work," the king proclaimed, partaking in hisChancellor's triumph.
"You have heard!--He will give coin money now!" Ieremia cried in a loudvoice to the assemblage.
At the same time he plunged both hands in the basket and drew forth manypackages of Fitu-Ivan notes. It was noticed that a peculiar odour wasadrift about the council.
"I have here," Ieremia announced, "one thousand and twenty-eight poundstwelve shillings and sixpence. Here is a sack to put the coin money in."
Cornelius recoiled. He had not expected such a sum, and everywhere aboutthe council his uneasy eyes showed him chiefs and talking men drawingout bundles of notes. The army, its two months' pay in its hands,pressed forward to the edge of the council, while behind it thepopulace, with more money, invaded the compound.
"'Tis a run on the bank you've precipitated," he said reproachfully toGrief.
"Here is the sack to put the coin money in," Ieremia urged.
"It must be postponed," Cornelius said desperately, "'Tis not in bankinghours."
Ieremia flourished a package of money. "Nothing of banking hours iswritten here. It says on demand, and I now demand."
"Let them come to-morrow, O Tui Tulifau," Cornelius appealed to theking. "They shall be paid to-morrow."
Tui Tulifau hesitated, but his spouse glared at him, her brawny armtensing as the fist doubled into a redoubtable knot, Tui Tulifau triedto look away, but failed. He cleared his throat nervously.
"We will see the system work," he decreed. "The people have come far."
"'Tis good money you're asking me to pay out," Deasy muttered in a lowvoice to the king.
Sepeli caught what he said, and grunted so savagely as to startle theking, who involuntarily shrank away from her.
"Forget not the pig," Grief whispered to Ieremia, who immediately stoodup.
With a sweeping gesture he stilled the babel of voices that wasbeginning to rise.
"It was an ancient and honourable custom of Fitu-Iva," he said, "thatwhen a man was proved a notorious evildoer his joints were broken witha club and he was staked out at low water to be fed upon alive by thesharks. Unfortunately, that
day is past. Nevertheless another ancientand honourable custom remains with us. You all know what it is. When aman is a proven thief and liar he shall be struck with a dead pig."
His right hand went into the basket, and, despite the lack of hisspectacles, the dead pig that came into view landed accurately onDeasy's neck. With such force was it thrown that the Chancellor, inhis sitting position, toppled over sidewise. Before he could recover,Sepeli, with an agility unexpected of a woman who weighed two hundredand sixty pounds, had sprung across to him. One hand clutched his shirtcollar, the other hand brandished the pig, and amid the vast uproar of adelighted kingdom she royally swatted him.
There remained nothing for Tui Tulifau but to put a good face on hisfavourite's disgrace, and his mountainous fat lay back on the mats andshook in a gale of Gargantuan laughter.
When Sepeli dropped both pig and Chancellor, a talking man from thewindward coast picked up the carcass. Cornelius was on his feet andrunning, when the pig caught him on the legs and tripped him. The peopleand the army, with shouts and laughter, joined in the sport.
Twist and dodge as he would, everywhere the ex-Chancellor of theExchequer was met or overtaken by the flying pig. He scuttled like afrightened rabbit in and out among the avocados and the palms. No handwas laid upon him, and his tormentors made way before him, but ever theypursued, and ever the pig flew as fast as hands could pick it up.
As the chase died away down the Broom Road, Grief led the traders to theroyal treasury, and the day was well over ere the last Fitu-Ivan banknote had been redeemed with coin.
VII
Through the mellow cool of twilight a man paddled out from a clump ofjungle to the _Cantani_. It was a leaky and abandoned dugout, and hepaddled slowly, desisting from time to time in order to bale. TheKanaka sailors giggled gleefully as he came alongside and painfullydrew himself over the rail. He was bedraggled and filthy, and seemedhalf-dazed.
"Could I speak a word with you, Mr. Grief?" he asked sadly and humbly.
"Sit to leeward and farther away," Grief answered. "A little fartheraway. That's better."
Cornelius sat down on the rail and held his head in both his hands.
"'Tis right," he said. "I'm as fragrant as a recent battlefield. My headaches to burstin'. My neck is fair broken. The teeth are loose in myjaws. There's nests of hornets buzzin' in my ears. My medulla oblongatais dislocated. I've been through earthquake and pestilence, and theheavens have rained pigs." He paused with a sigh that ended in a groan."'Tis a vision of terrible death. One that the poets never dreamed. Tobe eaten by rats, or boiled in oil, or pulled apart by wild horses--thatwould be unpleasant. But to be beaten to death with a dead pig!"He shuddered at the awfulness of it. "Sure it transcends the humanimagination."
Captain Boig sniffed audibly, moved his canvas chair farther towindward, and sat down again.
"I hear you're runnin' over to Yap, Mr. Grief," Cornelius went on. "An'two things I'm wantin' to beg of you: a passage an' the nip of the oldsmoky I refused the night you landed."
Grief clapped his hands for the black steward and ordered soap andtowels.
"Go for'ard, Cornelius, and take a scrub first," he said. "The boy willbring you a pair of dungarees and a shirt. And by the way, before yougo, how was it we found more coin in the treasury than paper you hadissued?"
"'Twas the stake of my own I'd brought with me for the adventure."
"We've decided to charge the demurrage and other expenses and loss toTui Tulifau," Grief said. "So the balance we found will be turned overto you. But ten shillings must be deducted."
"For what?"
"Do you think dead pigs grow on trees? The sum of ten shillings for thatpig is entered in the accounts."
Cornelius bowed his assent with a shudder.
"Sure it's grateful I am it wasn't a fifteen-shilling pig or atwenty-shilling one."
Chapter Eight--THE PEARLS OF PARLAY
I
The Kanaka helmsman put the wheel down, and the _Malahini_ slipped intothe eye of the wind and righted to an even keel. Her head-sails emptied,there was a rat-tat of reef-points and quick shifting of boom-tackles,and she was heeled over and filled away on the other tack. Though it wasearly morning and the wind brisk, the five white men who lounged onthe poop-deck were scantily clad. David Grief, and his guest, GregoryMulhall, an Englishman, were still in pajamas, their naked feet thrustinto Chinese slippers. The captain and mate were in thin undershirts andunstarched duck pants, while the supercargo still held in his handsthe undershirt he was reluctant to put on. The sweat stood out on hisforehead, and he seemed to thrust his bare chest thirstily into the windthat did not cool.
"Pretty muggy, for a breeze like this," he complained.
"And what's it doing around in the west? That's what I want to know,"was Grief's contribution to the general plaint.
"It won't last, and it ain't been there long," said Hermann, the Hollandmate. "She is been chop around all night--five minutes here, ten minutesthere, one hour somewhere other quarter."
"Something makin ', something makin '," Captain Warfield croaked,spreading his bushy beard with the fingers of both hands and shovingthe thatch of his chin into the breeze in a vain search for coolness."Weather's been crazy for a fortnight. Haven't had the proper trades inthree weeks. Everything's mixed up. Barometer was pumping at sunset lastnight, and it's pumping now, though the weather sharps say it don't meananything. All the same, I've got a prejudice against seeing it pump.Gets on my nerves, sort of, you know. She was pumping that way the timewe lost the _Lancaster_. I was only an apprentice, but I can rememberthat well enough. Brand new, four-masted steel ship; first voyage; brokethe old man's heart. He'd been forty years in the company. Just fadedway and died the next year."
Despite the wind and the early hour, the heat was suffocating. The windwhispered coolness, but did not deliver coolness. It might have blownoff the Sahara, save for the extreme humidity with which it was laden.There was no fog nor mist, nor hint of fog or mist, yet the dimness ofdistance produced the impression. There were no defined clouds, yetso thickly were the heavens covered by a messy cloud-pall that the sunfailed to shine through.
"Ready about!" Captain Warfield ordered with slow sharpness.
The brown, breech-clouted Kanaka sailors moved languidly but quickly tohead-sheets and boom-tackles.
"Hard a-lee!"
The helmsman ran the spokes over with no hint of gentling, and the_Malahini_ darted prettily into the wind and about.
"Jove! she's a witch!" was Mulhall's appreciation. "I didn't know youSouth Sea traders sailed yachts."
"She was a Gloucester fisherman originally," Grief explained, "andthe Gloucester boats are all yachts when it comes to build, rig, andsailing."
"But you're heading right in--why don't you make it?" came theEnglishman's criticism.
"Try it, Captain Warfield," Grief suggested. "Show him what a lagoonentrance is on a strong ebb."
"Close-and-by!" the captain ordered.
"Close-and-by," the Kanaka repeated, easing half a spoke.
The _Malahini_ laid squarely into the narrow passage which was thelagoon entrance _of_ a large, long, and narrow oval of an atoll. Theatoll was shaped as if three atolls, in the course of building, hadcollided and coalesced and failed to rear the partition walls. Cocoanutpalms grew in spots on the circle of sand, and there were many gapswhere the sand was too low to the sea for cocoanuts, and through whichcould be seen the protected lagoon where the water lay flat like theruffled surface of a mirror. Many square miles of water were in theirregular lagoon, all of which surged out on the ebb through the onenarrow channel. So narrow was the channel, so large the outflow ofwater, that the passage was more like the rapids of a river than themere tidal entrance to an atoll. The water boiled and whirled andswirled and drove outward in a white foam of stiff, serrated waves. Eachheave and blow on her bows of the upstanding waves of the current swungthe Malahini off the straight lead and wedged her as with wedges ofsteel toward the side of the passage. Pa
rt way in she was, when hercloseness to the coral edge compelled her to go about. On the oppositetack, broadside to the current, she swept seaward with the current'sspeed.
"Now's the time for that new and expensive engine of yours," Griefjeered good-naturedly.
That the engine was a sore point with Captain Warfield was patent. Hehad begged and badgered for it, until in the end Grief had given hisconsent.
"It will pay for itself yet," the captain retorted, "You wait andsee. It beats insurance and you know the underwriters won't stand forinsurance in the Paumotus."
Grief pointed to a small cutter beating up astern of them on the samecourse.
"I'll wager a five-franc piece the little Nuhiva beats us in."
"Sure," Captain Warfield agreed. "She's overpowered. We're like a lineralongside of her, and we've only got forty horsepower. She's got tenhorse, and she's a little skimming dish. She could skate across thefroth of hell, but just the same she can't buck this current. It'srunning ten knots right now."
And at the rate of ten knots, buffeted and jerkily rolled, the_Malahini_ went out to sea with the tide.
"She'll slacken in half an hour--then we'll make headway," CaptainWarfield said, with an irritation explained by his next words. "He hasno right to call it Parlay. It's down on the admiralty charts, and theFrench charts, too, as Hikihoho. Bougainville discovered it and named itfrom the natives."