Chapter V--She Would a Planter Be

by Jack London

　　Sheldon mended rapidly. The fever had burned out, and there wasnothing for him to do but gather strength. Joan had taken the cookin hand, and for the first time, as Sheldon remarked, the chop atBerande was white man's chop. With her own hands Joan prepared thesick man's food, and between that and the cheer she brought him, hewas able, after two days, to totter feebly out upon the veranda.The situation struck him as strange, and stranger still was thefact that it did not seem strange to the girl at all. She hadsettled down and taken charge of the household as a matter ofcourse, as if he were her father, or brother, or as if she were aman like himself.

　　"It is just too delightful for anything," she assured him. "It islike a page out of some romance. Here I come along out of the seaand find a sick man all alone with two hundred slaves--"

　　"Recruits," he corrected. "Contract labourers. They serve onlythree years, and they are free agents when they enter upon theircontracts."

　　"Yes, yes," she hurried on. "--A sick man alone with two hundredrecruits on a cannibal island--they are cannibals, aren't they? Oris it all talk?"

　　"Talk!" he said, with a smile. "It's a trifle more than that.Most of my boys are from the bush, and every bushman is acannibal."

　　"But not after they become recruits? Surely, the boys you havehere wouldn't be guilty."

　　"They'd eat you if the chance afforded."

　　"Are you just saying so, on theory, or do you really know?" sheasked.

　　"I know."

　　"Why? What makes you think so? Your own men here?"

　　"Yes, my own men here, the very house-boys, the cook that at thepresent moment is making such delicious rolls, thanks to you. Notmore than three months ago eleven of them sneaked a whale-boat andran for Malaita. Nine of them belonged to Malaita. Two werebushmen from San Cristoval. They were fools--the two from SanCristoval, I mean; so would any two Malaita men be who trustedthemselves in a boat with nine from San Cristoval."

　　"Yes?" she asked eagerly. "Then what happened?"

　　"The nine Malaita men ate the two from San Cristoval, all exceptthe heads, which are too valuable for mere eating. They stowedthem away in the stern-locker till they landed. And those twoheads are now in some bush village back of Langa Langa."

　　She clapped her hands and her eyes sparkled. "They are really andtruly cannibals! And just think, this is the twentieth century!And I thought romance and adventure were fossilized!"

　　He looked at her with mild amusement.

　　"What is the matter now?" she queried.

　　"Oh, nothing, only I don't fancy being eaten by a lot of filthyniggers is the least bit romantic."

　　"No, of course not," she admitted. "But to be among them,controlling them, directing them, two hundred of them, and toescape being eaten by them--that, at least, if it isn't romantic,is certainly the quintessence of adventure. And adventure andromance are allied, you know."

　　"By the same token, to go into a nigger's stomach should be thequintessence of adventure," he retorted.

　　"I don't think you have any romance in you," she exclaimed."You're just dull and sombre and sordid like the business men athome. I don't know why you're here at all. You should be at homeplacidly vegetating as a banker's clerk or--or--"

　　"A shopkeeper's assistant, thank you."

　　"Yes, that--anything. What under the sun are you doing here on theedge of things?"

　　"Earning my bread and butter, trying to get on in the world."

　　"'By the bitter road the younger son must tread, Ere he win tohearth and saddle of his own,'" she quoted. "Why, if that isn'tromantic, then nothing is romantic. Think of all the younger sonsout over the world, on a myriad of adventures winning to those samehearths and saddles. And here you are in the thick of it, doingit, and here am I in the thick of it, doing it."

　　"I--I beg pardon," he drawled.

　　"Well, I'm a younger daughter, then," she amended; "and I have nohearth nor saddle--I haven't anybody or anything--and I'm just asfar on the edge of things as you are."

　　"In your case, then, I'll admit there is a bit of romance," heconfessed.

　　He could not help but think of the preceding nights, and of hersleeping in the hammock on the veranda, under mosquito curtains,her bodyguard of Tahitian sailors stretched out at the far cornerof the veranda within call. He had been too helpless to resist,but now he resolved she should have his couch inside while he wouldtake the hammock.

　　"You see, I had read and dreamed about romance all my life," shewas saying, "but I never, in my wildest fancies, thought that Ishould live it. It was all so unexpected. Two years ago I thoughtthere was nothing left to me but. . . ." She faltered, and made amoue of distaste. "Well, the only thing that remained, it seemedto me, was marriage."

　　"And you preferred a cannibal isle and a cartridge-belt?" hesuggested.

　　"I didn't think of the cannibal isle, but the cartridge-belt wasblissful."

　　"You wouldn't dare use the revolver if you were compelled to. Or,"noting the glint in her eyes, "if you did use it, to--well, to hitanything."

　　She started up suddenly to enter the house. He knew she was goingfor her revolver.

　　"Never mind," he said, "here's mine. What can you do with it?"

　　"Shoot the block off your flag-halyards."

　　He smiled his unbelief.

　　"I don't know the gun," she said dubiously.

　　"It's a light trigger and you don't have to hold down. Draw fine."

　　"Yes, yes," she spoke impatiently. "I know automatics--they jamwhen they get hot--only I don't know yours." She looked at it amoment. "It's cocked. Is there a cartridge in the chamber?"

　　She fired, and the block remained intact.

　　"It's a long shot," he said, with the intention of easing herchagrin.

　　But she bit her lip and fired again. The bullet emitted a sharpshriek as it ricochetted into space. The metal block rattled backand forth. Again and again she fired, till the clip was emptied ofits eight cartridges. Six of them were hits. The block stillswayed at the gaff-end, but it was battered out of all usefulness.Sheldon was astonished. It was better than he or even HughieDrummond could have done. The women he had known, when theysporadically fired a rifle or revolver, usually shrieked, shuttheir eyes, and blazed away into space.

　　"That's really good shooting . . . for a woman," he said. "Youonly missed it twice, and it was a strange weapon."

　　"But I can't make out the two misses," she complained. "The gunworked beautifully, too. Give me another clip and I'll hit iteight times for anything you wish."

　　"I don't doubt it. Now I'll have to get a new block. Viaburi!Here you fella, catch one fella block along store-room."

　　"I'll wager you can't do it eight out of eight . . . anything youwish," she challenged.

　　"No fear of my taking it on," was his answer. "Who taught you toshoot?"

　　"Oh, my father, at first, and then Von, and his cowboys. He was ashot--Dad, I mean, though Von was splendid, too."

　　Sheldon wondered secretly who Von was, and he speculated as towhether it was Von who two years previously had led her to believethat nothing remained for her but matrimony.

　　"What part of the United States is your home?" he asked. "Chicagoor Wyoming? or somewhere out there? You know you haven't told me athing about yourself. All that I know is that you are Miss JoanLackland from anywhere."

　　"You'd have to go farther west to find my stamping grounds."

　　"Ah, let me see--Nevada?"

　　She shook her head.

　　"California?"

　　"Still farther west."

　　"It can't be, or else I've forgotten my geography."

　　"It's your politics," she laughed. "Don't you remember'Annexation'?"

　　"The Philippines!" he cried triumphantly.

　　"No, Hawaii. I was born there. It is a beautiful land. My, I'malmost homesick for it already. Not that I haven't been away. Iwas in New York when the crash came. But I do think it is thesweetest spot on earth--Hawaii, I mean."

　　"Then what under the sun are you doing down here in this God-forsaken place?" he asked. "Only fools come here," he addedbitterly.

　　"Nielsen wasn't a fool, was he?" she queried. "As I understand, hemade three millions here."

　　"Only too true, and that fact is responsible for my being here."

　　"And for me, too," she said. "Dad heard about him in theMarquesas, and so we started. Only poor Dad didn't get here."

　　"He--your father--died?" he faltered.

　　She nodded, and her eyes grew soft and moist.

　　"I might as well begin at the beginning." She lifted her head witha proud air of dismissing sadness, after, the manner of a womanqualified to wear a Baden-Powell and a long-barrelled Colt's. "Iwas born at Hilo. That's on the island of Hawaii--the biggest andbest in the whole group. I was brought up the way most girls inHawaii are brought up. They live in the open, and they know how toride and swim before they know what six-times-six is. As for me, Ican't remember when I first got on a horse nor when I learned toswim. That came before my A B C's. Dad owned cattle ranches onHawaii and Maui--big ones, for the islands. Hokuna had two hundredthousand acres alone. It extended in between Mauna Koa and MaunaLoa, and it was there I learned to shoot goats and wild cattle. OnMolokai they have big spotted deer. Von was the manager of Hokuna.He had two daughters about my own age, and I always spent the hotseason there, and, once, a whole year. The three of us were likeIndians. Not that we ran wild, exactly, but that we were wild torun wild. There were always the governesses, you know, andlessons, and sewing, and housekeeping; but I'm afraid we were toooften bribed to our tasks with promises of horses or of cattledrives.

　　"Von had been in the army, and Dad was an old sea-dog, and theywere both stern disciplinarians; only the two girls had no mother,and neither had I, and they were two men after all. They spoiledus terribly. You see, they didn't have any wives, and they madechums out of us--when our tasks were done. We had to learn to doeverything about the house twice as well as the native servants didit--that was so that we should know how to manage some day. And wealways made the cocktails, which was too holy a rite for anyservant. Then, too, we were never allowed anything we could nottake care of ourselves. Of course the cowboys always roped andsaddled our horses, but we had to be able ourselves to go out inthe paddock and rope our horses--"

　　"What do you mean by rope?" Sheldon asked.

　　"To lariat them, to lasso them. And Dad and Von timed us in thesaddling and made a most rigid examination of the result. It wasthe same way with our revolvers and rifles. The house-boys alwayscleaned them and greased them; but we had to learn how in order tosee that they did it properly. More than once, at first, one orthe other of us had our rifles taken away for a week just becauseof a tiny speck of rust. We had to know how to build fires in thedriving rain, too, out of wet wood, when we camped out, which wasthe hardest thing of all--except grammar, I do believe. We learnedmore from Dad and Von than from the governesses; Dad taught usFrench and Von German. We learned both languages passably well,and we learned them wholly in the saddle or in camp.

　　"In the cool season the girls used to come down and visit me inHilo, where Dad had two houses, one at the beach, or the three ofus used to go down to our place in Puna, and that meant canoes andboats and fishing and swimming. Then, too, Dad belonged to theRoyal Hawaiian Yacht Club, and took us racing and cruising. Dadcould never get away from the sea, you know. When I was fourteen Iwas Dad's actual housekeeper, with entire power over the servants,and I am very proud of that period of my life. And when I wassixteen we three girls were all sent up to California to MillsSeminary, which was quite fashionable and stifling. How we used tolong for home! We didn't chum with the other girls, who called uslittle cannibals, just because we came from the Sandwich Islands,and who made invidious remarks about our ancestors banqueting onCaptain Cook--which was historically untrue, and, besides, ourancestors hadn't lived in Hawaii.

　　"I was three years at Mills Seminary, with trips home, of course,and two years in New York; and then Dad went smash in a sugarplantation on Maui. The report of the engineers had not beenright. Then Dad had built a railroad that was called 'Lackland'sFolly,'--it will pay ultimately, though. But it contributed to thesmash. The Pelaulau Ditch was the finishing blow. And nothingwould have happened anyway, if it hadn't been for that big moneypanic in Wall Street. Dear good Dad! He never let me know. But Iread about the crash in a newspaper, and hurried home. It wasbefore that, though, that people had been dinging into my ears thatmarriage was all any woman could get out of life, and good-bye toromance. Instead of which, with Dad's failure, I fell right intoromance."

　　"How long ago was that?" Sheldon asked.

　　"Last year--the year of the panic."

　　"Let me see," Sheldon pondered with an air of gravity. "Sixteenplus five, plus one, equals twenty-two. You were born in 1887?"

　　"Yes; but it is not nice of you."

　　"I am really sorry," he said, "but the problem was so obvious."

　　"Can't you ever say nice things? Or is it the way you Englishhave?" There was a snap in her gray eyes, and her lips quiveredsuspiciously for a moment. "I should recommend, Mr. Sheldon, thatyou read Gertrude Atherton's 'American Wives and EnglishHusbands.'"

　　"Thank you, I have. It's over there." He pointed at thegenerously filled bookshelves. "But I am afraid it is ratherpartisan."

　　"Anything un-English is bound to be," she retorted. "I never haveliked the English anyway. The last one I knew was an overseer.Dad was compelled to discharge him."

　　"One swallow doesn't make a summer."

　　"But that Englishman made lots of trouble--there! And now pleasedon't make me any more absurd than I already am."

　　"I'm trying not to."

　　"Oh, for that matter--" She tossed her head, opened her mouth tocomplete the retort, then changed her mind. "I shall go on with myhistory. Dad had practically nothing left, and he decided toreturn to the sea. He'd always loved it, and I half believe thathe was glad things had happened as they did. He was like a boyagain, busy with plans and preparations from morning till night.He used to sit up half the night talking things over with me. Thatwas after I had shown him that I was really resolved to go along.

　　"He had made his start, you know, in the South Seas--pearls andpearl shell--and he was sure that more fortunes, in trove of onesort and another, were to be picked up. Cocoanut-planting was hisparticular idea, with trading, and maybe pearling, along with otherthings, until the plantation should come into bearing. He tradedoff his yacht for a schooner, the Miele, and away we went. I tookcare of him and studied navigation. He was his own skipper. Wehad a Danish mate, Mr. Ericson, and a mixed crew of Japanese andHawaiians. We went up and down the Line Islands, first, until Dadwas heartsick. Everything was changed. They had been annexed anddivided by one power or another, while big companies had stepped inand gobbled land, trading rights, fishing rights, everything.

　　"Next we sailed for the Marquesas. They were beautiful, but thenatives were nearly extinct. Dad was cut up when he learned thatthe French charged an export duty on copra--he called it medieval--but he liked the land. There was a valley of fifteen thousandacres on Nuka-hiva, half inclosing a perfect anchorage, which hefell in love with and bought for twelve hundred Chili dollars. Butthe French taxation was outrageous (that was why the land was socheap), and, worst of all, we could obtain no labour. What kanakasthere were wouldn't work, and the officials seemed to sit up nightsthinking out new obstacles to put in our way.

　　"Six months was enough for Dad. The situation was hopeless.'We'll go to the Solomons,' he said, 'and get a whiff of Englishrule. And if there are no openings there we'll go on to theBismarck Archipelago. I'll wager the Admiraltys are not yetcivilized.' All preparations were made, things packed on board,and a new crew of Marquesans and Tahitians shipped. We were justready to start to Tahiti, where a lot of repairs and refitting forthe Miele were necessary, when poor Dad came down sick and died."

　　"And you were left all alone?"

　　Joan nodded.

　　"Very much alone. I had no brothers nor sisters, and all Dad'speople were drowned in a Kansas cloud-burst. That happened when hewas a little boy. Of course, I could go back to Von. There'salways a home there waiting for me. But why should I go? Besides,there were Dad's plans, and I felt that it devolved upon me tocarry them out. It seemed a fine thing to do. Also, I wanted tocarry them out. And . . . here I am.

　　"Take my advice and never go to Tahiti. It is a lovely place, andso are the natives. But the white people! Now Barabbas lived inTahiti. Thieves, robbers, and lairs--that is what they are. Thehonest men wouldn't require the fingers of one hand to count. Thefact that I was a woman only simplified matters with them. Theyrobbed me on every pretext, and they lied without pretext or need.Poor Mr. Ericson was corrupted. He joined the robbers, and O.K.'dall their demands even up to a thousand per cent. If they robbedme of ten francs, his share was three. One bill of fifteen hundredfrancs I paid, netted him five hundred francs. All this, ofcourse, I learned afterward. But the Miele was old, the repairshad to be made, and I was charged, not three prices, but sevenprices.

　　"I never shall know how much Ericson got out of it. He livedashore in a nicely furnished house. The shipwrights were giving itto him rent-free. Fruit, vegetables, fish, meat, and ice came tothis house every day, and he paid for none of it. It was part ofhis graft from the various merchants. And all the while, withtears in his eyes, he bemoaned the vile treatment I was receivingfrom the gang. No, I did not fall among thieves. I went toTahiti.

　　"But when the robbers fell to cheating one another, I got my firstclues to the state of affairs. One of the robbed robbers came tome after dark, with facts, figures, and assertions. I knew I wasruined if I went to law. The judges were corrupt like everythingelse. But I did do one thing. In the dead of night I went toEricson's house. I had the same revolver I've got now, and I madehim stay in bed while I overhauled things. Nineteen hundred andodd francs was what I carried away with me. He never complained tothe police, and he never came back on board. As for the rest ofthe gang, they laughed and snapped their fingers at me. There weretwo Americans in the place, and they warned me to leave the lawalone unless I wanted to leave the Miele behind as well.

　　"Then I sent to New Zealand and got a German mate. He had amaster's certificate, and was on the ship's papers as captain, butI was a better navigator than he, and I was really captain myself.I lost her, too, but it's no reflection on my seamanship. We weredrifting four days outside there in dead calms. Then thenor'wester caught us and drove us on the lee shore. We made sailand tried to clew off, when the rotten work of the Tahitishipwrights became manifest. Our jib-boom and all our head-stayscarried away. Our only chance was to turn and run through thepassage between Florida and Ysabel. And when we were safelythrough, in the twilight, where the chart shows fourteen fathoms asthe shoalest water, we smashed on a coral patch. The poor oldMiele struck only once, and then went clear; but it was too muchfor her, and we just had time to clear away in the boat when shewent down. The German mate was drowned. We lay all night to asea-drag, and next morning sighted your place here."

　　"I suppose you will go back to Von, now?" Sheldon queried.

　　"Nothing of the sort. Dad planned to go to the Solomons. I shalllook about for some land and start a small plantation. Do you knowany good land around here? Cheap?"

　　"By George, you Yankees are remarkable, really remarkable," saidSheldon. "I should never have dreamed of such a venture."

　　"Adventure," Joan corrected him.

　　"That's right--adventure it is. And if you'd gone ashore onMalaita instead of Guadalcanar you'd have been kai-kai'd long ago,along with your noble Tahitian sailors."

　　Joan shuddered.

　　"To tell the truth," she confessed, "we were very much afraid toland on Guadalcanar. I read in the 'Sailing Directions' that thenatives were treacherous and hostile. Some day I should like to goto Malaita. Are there any plantations there?"

　　"Not one. Not a white trader even."

　　"Then I shall go over on a recruiting vessel some time."

　　"Impossible!" Sheldon cried. "It is no place for a woman."

　　"I shall go just the same," she repeated.

　　"But no self-respecting woman--"

　　"Be careful," she warned him. "I shall go some day, and then youmay be sorry for the names you have called me."