Chapter X--A Message from Boucher

by Jack London

　　The next day Sheldon was left all alone. Joan had gone exploringPari-Sulay, and was not to be expected back until the lateafternoon. Sheldon was vaguely oppressed by his loneliness, andseveral heavy squalls during the afternoon brought him frequentlyon to the veranda, telescope in hand, to scan the sea anxiously forthe whale-boat. Betweenwhiles he scowled over the plantationaccount-books, made rough estimates, added and balanced, andscowled the harder. The loss of the Jessie had hit Berandeseverely. Not alone was his capital depleted by the amount of hervalue, but her earnings were no longer to be reckoned on, and itwas her earnings that largely paid the running expenses of theplantation.

　　"Poor old Hughie," he muttered aloud, once. "I'm glad you didn'tlive to see it, old man. What a cropper, what a cropper!"

　　Between squalls the Flibberty-Gibbet ran in to anchorage, and herskipper, Pete Oleson (brother to the Oleson of the Jessie),ancient, grizzled, wild-eyed, emaciated by fever, dragged his wearyframe up the veranda steps and collapsed in a steamer-chair.Whisky and soda kept him going while he made report and turned inhis accounts.

　　"You're rotten with fever," Sheldon said. "Why don't you run downto Sydney for a blow of decent climate?"

　　The old skipper shook his head.

　　"I can't. I've ben in the islands too long. I'd die. The fevercomes out worse down there."

　　"Kill or cure," Sheldon counselled.

　　"It's straight kill for me. I tried it three years ago. The coolweather put me on my back before I landed. They carried me ashoreand into hospital. I was unconscious one stretch for two weeks.After that the doctors sent me back to the islands--said it was theonly thing that would save me. Well, I'm still alive; but I'm toosoaked with fever. A month in Australia would finish me."

　　"But what are you going to do?" Sheldon queried. "You can't stayhere until you die."

　　"That's all that's left to me. I'd like to go back to the oldcountry, but I couldn't stand it. I'll last longer here, and hereI'll stay until I peg out; but I wish to God I'd never seen theSolomons, that's all."

　　He declined to sleep ashore, took his orders, and went back onboard the cutter. A lurid sunset was blotted out by the heaviestsquall of the day, and Sheldon watched the whale-boat arrive in thethick of it. As the spritsail was taken in and the boat headed onto the beach, he was aware of a distinct hurt at sight of Joan atthe steering-oar, standing erect and swaying her strength to it asshe resisted the pressures that tended to throw the craft broadsidein the surf. Her Tahitians leaped out and rushed the boat high upthe beach, and she led her bizarre following through the gate ofthe compound.

　　The first drops of rain were driving like hail-stones, the tallcocoanut palms were bending and writhing in the grip of the wind,while the thick cloud-mass of the squall turned the brief tropictwilight abruptly to night.

　　Quite unconsciously the brooding anxiety of the afternoon slippedfrom Sheldon, and he felt strangely cheered at the sight of herrunning up the steps laughing, face flushed, hair flying, herbreast heaving from the violence of her late exertions.

　　"Lovely, perfectly lovely--Pari-Sulay," she panted. "I shall buyit. I'll write to the Commissioner to-night. And the site for thebungalow--I've selected it already--is wonderful. You must comeover some day and advise me. You won't mind my staying here untilI can get settled? Wasn't that squall beautiful? And I supposeI'm late for dinner. I'll run and get clean, and be with you in aminute."

　　And in the brief interval of her absence he found himself walkingabout the big living-room and impatiently and with anticipationawaiting her coming.

　　"Do you know, I'm never going to squabble with you again," heannounced when they were seated.

　　"Squabble!" was the retort. "It's such a sordid word. It soundscheap and nasty. I think it's much nicer to quarrel."

　　"Call it what you please, but we won't do it any more, will we?"He cleared his throat nervously, for her eyes advertised theimmediate beginning of hostilities. "I beg your pardon," hehurried on. "I should have spoken for myself. What I mean is thatI refuse to quarrel. You have the most horrible way, withoututtering a word, of making me play the fool. Why, I began with thekindest intentions, and here I am now--"

　　"Making nasty remarks," she completed for him.

　　"It's the way you have of catching me up," he complained.

　　"Why, I never said a word. I was merely sitting here, beingsweetly lured on by promises of peace on earth and all the rest ofit, when suddenly you began to call me names."

　　"Hardly that, I am sure."

　　"Well, you said I was horrible, or that I had a horrible way aboutme, which is the same thing. I wish my bungalow were up. I'd moveto-morrow."

　　But her twitching lips belied her words, and the next moment theman was more uncomfortable than ever, being made so by herlaughter.

　　"I was only teasing you. Honest Injun. And if you don't laughI'll suspect you of being in a temper with me. That's right,laugh. But don't--" she added in alarm, "don't if it hurts you.You look as though you had a toothache. There, there--don't sayit. You know you promised not to quarrel, while I have theprivilege of going on being as hateful as I please. And to beginwith, there's the Flibberty-Gibbet. I didn't know she was so largea cutter; but she's in disgraceful condition. Her rigging issomething queer, and the next sharp squall will bring her head-gearall about the shop. I watched Noa Noah's face as we sailed past.He didn't say anything. He just sneered. And I don't blame him."

　　"Her skipper's rotten bad with fever," Sheldon explained. "And hehad to drop his mate off to take hold of things at Ugi--that'swhere I lost Oscar, my trader. And you know what sort of sailorsthe niggers are."

　　She nodded her head judicially, and while she seemed to debate aweighty judgment he asked for a second helping of tinned beef--notbecause he was hungry, but because he wanted to watch her slim,firm fingers, naked of jewels and banded metals, while his eyespleasured in the swell of the forearm, appearing from under thesleeve and losing identity in the smooth, round wrist undisfiguredby the netted veins that come to youth when youth is gone. Thefingers were brown with tan and looked exceedingly boyish. Then,and without effort, the concept came to him. Yes, that was it. Hehad stumbled upon the clue to her tantalizing personality. Herfingers, sunburned and boyish, told the story. No wonder she hadexasperated him so frequently. He had tried to treat with her as awoman, when she was not a woman. She was a mere girl--and a boyishgirl at that--with sunburned fingers that delighted in doing whatboys' fingers did; with a body and muscles that liked swimming andviolent endeavour of all sorts; with a mind that was daring, butthat dared no farther than boys' adventures, and that delighted inrifles and revolvers, Stetson hats, and a sexless camaraderie withmen.

　　Somehow, as he pondered and watched her, it seemed as if he sat inchurch at home listening to the choir-boys chanting. She remindedhim of those boys, or their voices, rather. The same sexlessquality was there. In the body of her she was woman; in the mindof her she had not grown up. She had not been exposed to ripeninginfluences of that sort. She had had no mother. Von, her father,native servants, and rough island life had constituted hertraining. Horses and rifles had been her toys, camp and trail hernursery. From what she had told him, her seminary days had been anexile, devoted to study and to ceaseless longing for the wildriding and swimming of Hawaii. A boy's training, and a boy's pointof view! That explained her chafe at petticoats, her revolt atwhat was only decently conventional. Some day she would grow up,but as yet she was only in the process.

　　Well, there was only one thing for him to do. He must meet her onher own basis of boyhood, and not make the mistake of treating heras a woman. He wondered if he could love the woman she would bewhen her nature awoke; and he wondered if he could love her just asshe was and himself wake her up. After all, whatever it was, shehad come to fill quite a large place in his life, as he haddiscovered that afternoon while scanning the sea between thesqualls. Then he remembered the accounts of Berande, and thecropper that was coming, and scowled.

　　He became aware that she was speaking.

　　"I beg pardon," he said. "What's that you were saying?"

　　"You weren't listening to a word--I knew it," she chided. "I wassaying that the condition of the Flibberty-Gibbet was disgraceful,and that to-morrow, when you've told the skipper and not hurt hisfeelings, I am going to take my men out and give her anoverhauling. We'll scrub her bottom, too. Why, there's whiskerson her copper four inches long. I saw it when she rolled. Don'tforget, I'm going cruising on the Flibberty some day, even if Ihave to run away with her."

　　While at their coffee on the veranda, Satan raised a commotion inthe compound near the beach gate, and Sheldon finally rescued amauled and frightened black and dragged him on the porch forinterrogation.

　　"What fella marster you belong?" he demanded. "What name you comealong this fella place sun he go down?"

　　"Me b'long Boucher. Too many boy belong along Port Adams stopalong my fella marster. Too much walk about."

　　The black drew a scrap of notepaper from under his belt and passedit over. Sheldon scanned it hurriedly.

　　"It's from Boucher," he explained, "the fellow who took Packard'splace. Packard was the one I told you about who was killed by hisboat's-crew. He says the Port Adams crowd is out--fifty of them,in big canoes--and camping on his beach. They've killed half adozen of his pigs already, and seem to be looking for trouble. Andhe's afraid they may connect with the fifteen runaways from Lunga."

　　"In which case?" she queried.

　　"In which case Billy Pape will be compelled to send Boucher'ssuccessor. It's Pape's station, you know. I wish I knew what todo. I don't like to leave you here alone."

　　"Take me along then."

　　He smiled and shook his head.

　　"Then you'd better take my men along," she advised. "They're goodshots, and they're not afraid of anything--except Utami, and he'safraid of ghosts."

　　The big bell was rung, and fifty black boys carried the whale-boatdown to the water. The regular boat's-crew manned her, andMatauare and three other Tahitians, belted with cartridges andarmed with rifles, sat in the stern-sheets where Sheldon stood atthe steering-oar.

　　"My, I wish I could go with you," Joan said wistfully, as the boatshoved off.

　　Sheldon shook his head.

　　"I'm as good as a man," she urged.

　　"You really are needed here," he replied.

　　"There's that Lunga crowd; they might reach the coast right here,and with both of us absent rush the plantation. Good-bye. We'llget back in the morning some time. It's only twelve miles."

　　When Joan started to return to the house, she was compelled to passamong the boat-carriers, who lingered on the beach to chatter inqueer, ape-like fashion about the events of the night. They madeway for her, but there came to her, as she was in the midst ofthem, a feeling of her own helplessness. There were so many ofthem. What was to prevent them from dragging her down if they sowilled? Then she remembered that one cry of hers would fetch NoaNoah and her remaining sailors, each one of whom was worth a dozenblacks in a struggle. As she opened the gate, one of the boysstepped up to her. In the darkness she could not make him out.

　　"What name?" she asked sharply. "What name belong you?"

　　"Me Aroa," he said.

　　She remembered him as one of the two sick boys she had nursed atthe hospital. The other one had died.

　　"Me take 'm plenty fella medicine too much," Aroa was saying.

　　"Well, and you all right now," she answered.

　　"Me want 'm tobacco, plenty fella tobacco; me want 'm calico; mewant 'm porpoise teeth; me want 'm one fella belt."

　　She looked at him humorously, expecting to see a smile, or at leasta grin, on his face. Instead, his face was expressionless. Savefor a narrow breech-clout, a pair of ear-plugs, and about his kinkyhair a chaplet of white cowrie-shells, he was naked. His body wasfresh-oiled and shiny, and his eyes glistened in the starlight likesome wild animal's. The rest of the boys had crowded up at hisback in a solid wall. Some one of them giggled, but the remainderregarded her in morose and intense silence.

　　"Well?" she said. "What for you want plenty fella things?"

　　"Me take 'm medicine," quoth Aroa. "You pay me."

　　And this was a sample of their gratitude, she thought. It lookedas if Sheldon had been right after all. Aroa waited stolidly. Aleaping fish splashed far out on the water. A tiny waveletmurmured sleepily on the beach. The shadow of a flying-fox driftedby in velvet silence overhead. A light air fanned coolly on hercheek; it was the land-breeze beginning to blow.

　　"You go along quarters," she said, starting to turn on her heel toenter the gate.

　　"You pay me," said the boy.

　　"Aroa, you all the same one big fool. I no pay you. Now you go."

　　But the black was unmoved. She felt that he was regarding heralmost insolently as he repeated:

　　"I take 'm medicine. You pay me. You pay me now."

　　Then it was that she lost her temper and cuffed his ears so soundlyas to drive him back among his fellows. But they did not break up.Another boy stepped forward.

　　"You pay me," he said.

　　His eyes had the querulous, troubled look such as she had noticedin monkeys; but while he was patently uncomfortable under herscrutiny, his thick lips were drawn firmly in an effort at sullendetermination.

　　"What for?" she asked.

　　"Me Gogoomy," he said. "Bawo brother belong me."

　　Bawo, she remembered, was the sick boy who had died.

　　"Go on," she commanded.

　　"Bawo take 'm medicine. Bawo finish. Bawo my brother. You payme. Father belong me one big fella chief along Port Adams. Youpay me."

　　Joan laughed.

　　"Gogoomy, you just the same as Aroa, one big fool. My word, whopay me for medicine?"

　　She dismissed the matter by passing through the gate and closingit. But Gogoomy pressed up against it and said impudently:

　　"Father belong me one big fella chief. You no bang 'm head belongme. My word, you fright too much."

　　"Me fright?" she demanded, while anger tingled all through her.

　　"Too much fright bang 'm head belong me," Gogoomy said proudly.

　　And then she reached for him across the gate and got him. It was asweeping, broad-handed slap, so heavy that he staggered sidewaysand nearly fell. He sprang for the gate as if to force it open,while the crowd surged forward against the fence. Joan thoughtrapidly. Her revolver was hanging on the wall of her grass house.Yet one cry would bring her sailors, and she knew she was safe. Soshe did not cry for help. Instead, she whistled for Satan, at thesame time calling him by name. She knew he was shut up in theliving room, but the blacks did not wait to see. They fled withwild yells through the darkness, followed reluctantly by Gogoomy;while she entered the bungalow, laughing at first, but finallyvexed to the verge of tears by what had taken place. She had satup a whole night with the boy who had died, and yet his brotherdemanded to be paid for his life.

　　"Ugh! the ungrateful beast!" she muttered, while she debatedwhether or not she would confess the incident to Sheldon.