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alternating watchfully between the writing and the black chief

before him, while the black chief himself speculated and studied the



chance of getting behind him and, with the single knife-thrust he

knew so well, of severing the other's spinal cord at the base of the



neck.

"Sati," Van Horn read. "Last monsoon begin about this time, him



fella Sati get 'm sick belly belong him too much; bime by him fella

Sati finish altogether," he translated into beche-de-mer the written



information: Died of dysentery July 4th, 1901.

"Plenty work him fella Sati, long time," Nau-hau drove to the point.



"What come along money belong him?"

Van Horn did mentalarithmetic from the account.



"Altogether him make 'm six tens pounds and two fella pounds gold

money," was his translation of sixty-two pounds of wages. "I pay



advance father belong him one ten pounds and five fella pounds. Him

finish altogether four tens pounds and seven fella pounds."



"What name stop four tens pounds and seven fella pounds?" Nau-hau

demanded, his tongue, but not his brain, encompassing so prodigious



a sum.

Van Horn held up his hand.



"Too much hurry you fella Nau-hau. Him fella Sati buy 'm slop chest

along plantation two tens pounds and one fella pound. Belong Sati



he finish altogether two tens pounds and six fella pounds."

"What name stop two tens pounds and six fella pounds?" Nau-hau



continued inflexibly.

"Stop 'm along me," the captain answered curtly.



"Give 'm me two tens pounds and six fella pounds."

"Give 'm you hell," Van Horn refused, and in the blue of his eyes



the black chief sensed the impression of the dynamite out of which

white men seemed made, and felt his brain quicken to the vision of



the bloody day he first encountered an explosion of dynamite and was

hurled through the air.



"What name that old fella boy stop 'm along canoe?" Van Horn asked,

pointing to an old man in a canoe alongside. "Him father belong



Sati?"

"Him father belong Sati," Nau-hau affirmed.



Van Horn motioned the old man in and on board, beckoned Borckman to

take charge of the deck and of Nau-hau, and went below to get the



money from his strong-box. When he returned, cavalierly ignoring

the chief, he addressed himself to the old man.



"What name belong you?"

"Me fella Nino," was the quavering response. "Him fella Sati belong



along me."

Van Horn glanced for verification to Nau-hau, who nodded affirmation



in the reverse Solomon way; whereupon Van Horn counted twenty-six

gold sovereigns into the hand of Sati's father.



Immediately thereafter Nau-hau extended his hand and received the

sum. Twenty gold pieces the chief retained for himself, returning



to the old man the remaining six. It was no quarrel of Van Horn's.

He had fulfilled his duty and paid properly. The tyranny of a chief



over a subject was none of his business.

Both masters, white and black, were fairly contented with



themselves. Van Horn had paid the money where it was due; Nau-hau,

by virtue of kingship, had robbed Sati's father of Sati's labour



before Van Horn's eyes. But Nau-hau was not above strutting. He

declined a proffered present of tobacco, bought a case of stick



tobacco from Van Horn, paying him five pounds for it, and insisted

on having it sawed open so that he could fill his pipe.



"Plenty good boy stop along Langa-Langa?" Van Horn, unperturbed,

politely queried, in order to make conversation and advertise



nonchalance.

The King o' Babylon grinned, but did not deign to reply.



"Maybe I go ashore and walk about?" Van Horn challenged with

tentative emphasis.



"Maybe too much trouble along you," Nau-hau challenged back. "Maybe

plenty bad fella boy kai-kai along you."



Although Van Horn did not know it, at this challenge he experienced

the hair-pricking sensations in his scalp that Jerry experienced



when he bristled his back.

"Hey, Borckman," he called. "Man the whaleboat."



When the whaleboat was alongside, he descended into it first,

superiorly, then invited Nau-hau to accompany him.






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