"Yes, she did, if you want to make so sure of it. And while you're
about it, you might as well repeat what she said to you when you
said you wouldn't
recruit on the Poonga-Poonga coast for twice your
screw."
Sparrowhawk's sun-reddened face flamed redder, though he tried to
pass the situation off by
divers laughings and chucklings and face-
twistings.
"Go on, go on," Sheldon urged; and Munster resumed the narrative.
"'What we need,' says she, 'is the strong hand. It's the only way
to handle them; and we've got to take hold firm right at the
beginning. I'm going
ashore to-night to fetch Kina-Kina himself on
board, and I'm not asking who's game to go for I've got every man's
work arranged with me for him. I'm
taking my sailors with me, and
one white man.' 'Of course, I'm that white man,' I said; for by
that time I was mad enough to go to hell and back again. 'Of
course you're not,' says she. 'You'll have
charge of the covering
boat. Curtis stands by the
landing boat. Fowler goes with me.
Brahms takes
charge of the Flibberty, and Sparrowhawk of the Emily.
And we start at one o'clock.'
"My word, it was a tough job lying there in the covering boat. I
never thought doing nothing could be such hard work. We stopped
about fifty fathoms off, and watched the other boat go in. It was
so dark under the mangroves we couldn't see a thing of it. D'ye
know that little, monkey-looking nigger, Sheldon, on the Flibberty-
-the cook, I mean? Well, he was cabin-boy twenty years ago on the
Scottish Chiefs, and after she was cut off he was a slave there at
Poonga-Poonga. And Miss Lackland had discovered the fact. So he
was the guide. She gave him half a case of
tobacco for that
night's work--"
"And scared him fit to die before she could get him to come along,"
Sparrowhawk observed.
"Well, I never saw anything so black as the mangroves. I stared at
them till my eyes were ready to burst. And then I'd look at the
stars, and listen to the surf sighing along the reef. And there
was a dog that barked. Remember that dog, Sparrowhawk? The brute
nearly gave me heart-failure when he first began. After a while he
stopped--wasn't barking at the
landing party at all; and then the
silence was harder than ever, and the mangroves grew blacker, and
it was all I could do to keep from
calling out to Curtis in there
in the
landing boat, just to make sure that I wasn't the only white
man left alive.
"Of course there was a row. It had to come, and I knew it; but it
startled me just the same. I never heard such screeching and
yelling in my life. The niggers must have just dived for the bush
without looking to see what was up, while her Tahitians let loose,
shooting in the air and yelling to hurry 'em on. And then, just as
sudden, came the silence again--all except for some small kiddie
that had got dropped in the stampede and that kept crying in the
bush for its mother.
"And then I heard them coming through the mangroves, and an oar
strike on a gunwale, and Miss Lackland laugh, and I knew everything
was all right. We pulled on board without a shot being fired.
And, by God! she had made the books come true, for there was old
Kina-Kina himself being hoisted over the rail, shivering and
chattering like an ape. The rest was easy. Kina-Kina's word was
law, and he was scared to death. And we kept him on board issuing
proclamations all the time we were in Poonga-Poonga.
"It was a good move, too, in other ways. She made Kina-Kina order
his people to return all the gear they'd stripped from the Martha.
And back it came, day after day, steering compasses, blocks and
tackles, sails, coils of rope, medicine chests, ensigns, signal
flags--everything, in fact, except the trade goods and supplies
which had already been kai-kai'd. Of course, she gave them a few
sticks of
tobacco to keep them in good humour."
"Sure she did," Sparrowhawk broke forth. "She gave the beggars
five fathoms of
calico for the big mainsail, two sticks of
tobaccofor the chronometer, and a sheath-knife worth elevenpence ha'penny
for a hundred fathoms of brand new five-inch manila. She got old
Kina-Kina with that strong hand on the go off, and she kept him
going all the time. She--here she comes now."
It was with a shock of surprise that Sheldon greeted her
appearance. All the time, while the tale of
happening at Poonga-
Poonga had been going on, he had pictured her as the woman he had
always known, clad
roughly, skirt made out of window-curtain stuff,
an undersized man's shirt for a
blouse, straw sandals for foot
covering, with the Stetson hat and the
eternalrevolver completing
her
costume. The ready-made clothes from Sydney had transformed
her. A simple skirt and shirt-waist of some sort of wash-goods set
off her trim figure with a hint of
elegant womanhood that was new
to him. Brown slippers peeped out as she crossed the
compound, and
he once caught a
glimpse to the ankle of brown open-work stockings.
Somehow, she had been made many times the woman by these mere
extraneous trappings; and in his mind these wild Arabian Nights
adventures of hers seemed
thrice as wonderful.
As they went in to breakfast he became aware that Munster and
Sparrowhawk had received a similar shock. All their air of
camaraderie was dissipated, and they had become
abruptly and
immensely respectful.
"I've opened up a new field," she said, as she began pouring the
coffee. "Old Kina-Kina will never forget me, I'm sure, and I can
recruit there
whenever I want. I saw Morgan at Guvutu. He's
willing to contract for a thousand boys at forty shillings per
head. Did I tell you that I'd taken out a
recruiting license for
the Martha? I did, and the Martha can sign eighty boys every trip.
Sheldon smiled a
triflebitterly to himself. The wonderful woman
who had tripped across the
compound in her Sydney clothes was gone,
and he was listening to the boy come back again.
CHAPTER XIX--THE LOST TOY
"Well," Joan said with a sigh, "I've shown you hustling American
methods that succeed and get somewhere, and here you are beginning
your muddling again."
Five days had passed, and she and Sheldon were
standing on the
veranda watching the Martha, close-hauled on the wind, laying a
tack off shore. During those five days Joan had never once
broached the desire of her heart, though Sheldon, in this
particular
instancereading her like a book, had watched her lead
up to the question a score of times in the hope that he would
himself suggest her
takingcharge of the Martha. She had wanted
him to say the word, and she had steeled herself not to say it
herself. The matter of
finding a
skipper had been a hard one. She
was
jealous of the Martha, and no suggested man had satisfied her.
"Oleson?" she had demanded. "He does very well on the Flibberty,
with me and my men to overhaul her
whenever she's ready to fall to
pieces through his slackness. But
skipper of the Martha?
Impossible!"
"Munster? Yes, he's the only man I know in the Solomons I'd care
to see in
charge. And yet, there's his record. He lost the
Umbawa--one hundred and forty drowned. He was first officer on the
bridge. Deliberate disobedience to instructions. No wonder they
broke him.
"Christian Young has never had any experience with large boats.
Besides, we can't afford to pay him what he's
clearing on the
Minerva. Sparrowhawk is a good man--to take orders. He has no
initiative. He's an able sailor, but he can't command. I tell you
I was
nervous all the time he had
charge of the Flibberty at
Poonga-Poonga when I had to stay by the Martha."
And so it had gone. No name proposed was
satisfactory, and,
moreover, Sheldon had been surprised by the
accuracy of her
judgments. A dozen times she almost drove him to the statement
that from the showing she made of Solomon Islands sailors, she was
the only person fitted to command the Martha. But each time he
restrained himself, while her pride prevented her from making the
suggestion.
"Good whale-boat sailors do not
necessarily make good schooner-
handlers," she replied to one of his arguments. "Besides, the
captain of a boat like the Martha must have a large mind, see
things in a large way; he must have
capacity and enterprise."
"But with your Tahitians on board--" Sheldon had begun another
argument.
"There won't be any Tahitians on board," she had returned promptly.
"My men stay with me. I never know when I may need them. When I
sail, they sail; when I remain
ashore, they remain
ashore. I'll
find plenty for them to do right here on the
plantation. You've
seen them
clearing bush, each of them worth half a dozen of your
cannibals."
So it was that Joan stood beside Sheldon and sighed as she watched
the Martha
beating out to sea, old Kinross, brought over from Savo,
in command.
"Kinross is an old fossil," she said, with a touch of
bitterness in
her voice. "Oh, he'll never wreck her through rashness, rest
assured of that; but he's timid to childishness, and timid
skippers
lose just as many vessels as rash ones. Some day, Kinross will
lose the Martha because there'll be only one chance and he'll be
afraid to take it. I know his sort. Afraid to take
advantage of a
proper
breeze of wind that will fetch him in in twenty hours, he'll
get caught out in the calm that follows and spend a whole week in
getting in. The Martha will make money with him, there's no doubt
of it; but she won't make near the money that she would under a
competent master."
She paused, and with heightened colour and sparkling eyes gazed
seaward at the schooner.
"My! but she is a witch! Look at her eating up the water, and
there's no wind to speak of. She's not got ordinary white metal
either. It's man-of-war
copper, every inch of it. I had them
polish it with cocoanut husks when she was careened at Poonga-
Poonga. She was a seal-hunter before this gold
expedition got her.
And seal-hunters had to sail. They've run away from second class
Russian cruisers more than once up there off Siberia.
"Honestly, if I'd dreamed of the chance
waiting for me at Guvutu
when I bought her for less than three hundred dollars, I'd never
have gone
partners with you. And in that case I'd be sailing her
right now.
The justice of her
contention came
abruptly home to Sheldon. What
she had done she would have done just the same if she had not been
his
partner. And in the saving of the Martha he had played no
part. Single-handed, unadvised, in the teeth of the
laughter of
Guvutu and of the
competition of men like Morgan and Raff, she had
gone into the adventure and brought it through to success.
"You make me feel like a big man who has robbed a small child of a
lolly," he said with sudden contrition.
"And the small child is crying for it." She looked at him, and he
noted that her lip was
slightly trembling and that her eyes were
moist. It was the boy all over, he thought; the boy crying for the
wee bit boat with which to play. And yet it was a woman, too.
What a maze of
contradiction she was! And he wondered, had she
been all woman and no boy, if he would have loved her in just the
same way. Then it rushed in upon his
consciousness that he really
loved her for what she was, for all the boy in her and all the rest
of her--for the total of her that would have been a different total
in direct
proportion to any differing of the parts of her.
"But the small child won't cry any more for it," she was saying.
"This is the last sob. Some day, if Kinross doesn't lose her,
you'll turn her over to your
partner, I know. And I won't nag you
any more. Only I do hope you know how I feel. It isn't as if I'd
merely bought the Martha, or merely built her. I saved her. I
took her off the reef. I saved her from the grave of the sea when
fifty-five pounds was considered a big risk. She is mine,
peculiarly mine. Without me she wouldn't exist. That big
nor'wester would have finished her the first three hours it blew.
And then I've sailed her, too; and she is a witch, a perfect witch.
Why, do you know, she'll steer by the wind with half a spoke, give