Chapter XVI--The Girl Who Had Not Grown Up

by Jack London

　　News, as usual, Christian Young brought--news of the drinking atGuvutu, where the men boasted that they drank between drinks; newsof the new rifles adrift on Ysabel, of the latest murders onMalaita, of Tom Butler's sickness on Santa Ana; and last and mostimportant, news that the Matambo had gone on a reef in theShortlands and would be laid off one run for repairs.

　　"That means five weeks more before you can sail for Sydney,"Sheldon said to Joan.

　　"And that we are losing precious time," she added ruefully.

　　"If you want to go to Sydney, the Upolu sails from Tulagi to-morrowafternoon," Young said.

　　"But I thought she was running recruits for the Germans in Samoa,"she objected. "At any rate, I could catch her to Samoa, and changeat Apia to one of the Weir Line freighters. It's a long wayaround, but still it would save time."

　　"This time the Upolu is going straight to Sydney," Young explained."She's going to dry-dock, you see; and you can catch her as late asfive to-morrow afternoon--at least, so her first officer told me."

　　"But I've got to go to Guvutu first." Joan looked at the men witha whimsical expression. "I've some shopping to do. I can't wearthese Berande curtains into Sydney. I must buy cloth at Guvutu andmake myself a dress during the voyage down. I'll startimmediately--in an hour. Lalaperu, you bring 'm one fella AdamuAdam along me. Tell 'm that fella Ornfiri make 'm kai-kai takealong whale-boat." She rose to her feet, looking at Sheldon. "Andyou, please, have the boys carry down the whale-boat--my boat, youknow. I'll be off in an hour."

　　Both Sheldon and Tudor looked at their watches.

　　"It's an all-night row," Sheldon said. "You might wait tillmorning--"

　　"And miss my shopping? No, thank you. Besides, the Upolu is not aregular passenger steamer, and she is just as liable to sail aheadof time as on time. And from what I hear about those Guvutusybarites, the best time to shop will be in the morning. And nowyou'll have to excuse me, for I've got to pack."

　　"I'll go over with you," Sheldon announced.

　　"Let me run you over in the Minerva," said Young.

　　She shook her head laughingly.

　　"I'm going in the whale-boat. One would think, from all yoursolicitude, that I'd never been away from home before. You, Mr.Sheldon, as my partner, I cannot permit to desert Berande and yourwork out of a mistaken notion of courtesy. If you won't permit meto be skipper, I won't permit your galivanting over the sea asprotector of young women who don't need protection. And as foryou, Captain Young, you know very well that you just left Guvututhis morning, that you are bound for Marau, and that you saidyourself that in two hours you are getting under way again."

　　"But may I not see you safely across?" Tudor asked, a pleading notein his voice that rasped on Sheldon's nerves.

　　"No, no, and again no," she cried. "You've all got your work todo, and so have I. I came to the Solomons to work, not to beescorted about like a doll. For that matter, here's my escort, andthere are seven more like him."

　　Adamu Adam stood beside her, towering above her, as he toweredabove the three white men. The clinging cotton undershirt he worecould not hide the bulge of his tremendous muscles.

　　"Look at his fist," said Tudor. "I'd hate to receive a punch fromit."

　　"I don't blame you." Joan laughed reminiscently. "I saw him hitthe captain of a Swedish bark on the beach at Levuka, in the Fijis.It was the captain's fault. I saw it all myself, and it wassplendid. Adamu only hit him once, and he broke the man's arm.You remember, Adamu?"

　　The big Tahitian smiled and nodded, his black eyes, soft and deer-like, seeming to give the lie to so belligerent a nature.

　　"We start in an hour in the whale-boat for Guvutu, big brother,"Joan said to him. "Tell your brothers, all of them, so that theycan get ready. We catch the Upolu for Sydney. You will all comealong, and sail back to the Solomons in the new schooner. Takeyour extra shirts and dungarees along. Plenty cold weather downthere. Now run along, and tell them to hurry. Leave the gunsbehind. Turn them over to Mr. Sheldon. We won't need them."

　　"If you are really bent upon going--" Sheldon began.

　　"That's settled long ago," she answered shortly. "I'm going topack now. But I'll tell you what you can do for me--issue sometobacco and other stuff they want to my men."

　　An hour later the three men had shaken hands with Joan down on thebeach. She gave the signal, and the boat shoved off, six men atthe oars, the seventh man for'ard, and Adamu Adam at the steering-sweep. Joan was standing up in the stern-sheets, reiterating hergood-byes--a slim figure of a woman in the tight-fitting jacket shehad worn ashore from the wreck, the long-barrelled Colt's revolverhanging from the loose belt around her waist, her clear-cut facelike a boy's under the Stetson hat that failed to conceal the heavymasses of hair beneath.

　　"You'd better get into shelter," she called to them. "There's abig squall coming. And I hope you've got plenty of chain out,Captain Young. Good-bye! Good-bye, everybody!"

　　Her last words came out of the darkness, which wrapped itselfsolidly about the boat. Yet they continued to stare into theblackness in the direction in which the boat had disappeared,listening to the steady click of the oars in the rowlocks until itfaded away and ceased.

　　"She is only a girl," Christian Young said with slow solemnity.The discovery seemed to have been made on the spur of the moment."She is only a girl," he repeated with greater solemnity.

　　"A dashed pretty one, and a good traveller," Tudor laughed. "Shecertainly has spunk, eh, Sheldon?"

　　"Yes, she is brave," was the reluctant answer for Sheldon did notfeel disposed to talk about her.

　　"That's the American of it," Tudor went on. "Push, and go, andenergy, and independence. What do you think, skipper?"

　　"I think she is young, very young, only a girl," replied thecaptain of the Minerva, continuing to stare into the blackness thathid the sea.

　　The blackness seemed suddenly to increase in density, and theystumbled up the beach, feeling their way to the gate.

　　"Watch out for nuts," Sheldon warned, as the first blast of thesquall shrieked through the palms. They joined hands and staggeredup the path, with the ripe cocoanuts thudding in a monstrous rainall around them. They gained the veranda, where they sat insilence over their whisky, each man staring straight out to sea,where the wildly swinging riding-light of the Minerva could be seenin the lulls of the driving rain.

　　Somewhere out there, Sheldon reflected, was Joan Lackland, the girlwho had not grown up, the woman good to look upon, with only aboy's mind and a boy's desires, leaving Berande amid storm andconflict in much the same manner that she had first arrived, in thestern-sheets of her whale-boat, Adamu Adam steering, her savagecrew bending to the oars. And she was taking her Stetson hat withher, along with the cartridge-belt and the long-barrelled revolver.He suddenly discovered an immense affection for those fripperies ofhers at which he had secretly laughed when first he saw them. Hebecame aware of the sentimental direction in which his fancy wasleading him, and felt inclined to laugh. But he did not laugh.The next moment he was busy visioning the hat, and belt, andrevolver. Undoubtedly this was love, he thought, and he felt atiny glow of pride in him in that the Solomons had not succeeded inkilling all his sentiment.

　　An hour later, Christian Young stood up, knocked out his pipe, andprepared to go aboard and get under way.

　　"She's all right," he said, apropos of nothing spoken, and yetdistinctly relevant to what was in each of their minds. "She's gota good boat's-crew, and she's a sailor herself. Good-night, Mr.Sheldon. Anything I can do for you down Marau-way?" He turned andpointed to a widening space of starry sky. "It's going to be afine night after all. With this favouring bit of breeze she hassail on already, and she'll make Guvutu by daylight. Good-night."

　　"I guess I'll turn in, old man," Tudor said, rising and placing hisglass on the table. "I'll start the first thing in the morning.It's been disgraceful the way I've been hanging on here. Good-night."

　　Sheldon, sitting on alone, wondered if the other man would havedecided to pull out in the morning had Joan not sailed away. Well,there was one bit of consolation in it: Joan had certainlylingered at Berande for no man, not even Tudor. "I start in anhour"--her words rang in his brain, and under his eyelids he couldsee her as she stood up and uttered them. He smiled. The instantshe heard the news she had made up her mind to go. It was not veryflattering to man, but what could any man count in her eyes when aschooner waiting to be bought in Sydney was in the wind? What acreature! What a creature!

　　Berande was a lonely place to Sheldon in the days that followed.In the morning after Joan's departure, he had seen Tudor'sexpedition off on its way up the Balesuna; in the late afternoon,through his telescope, he had seen the smoke of the Upolu that wasbearing Joan away to Sydney; and in the evening he sat down todinner in solitary state, devoting more of his time to looking ather empty chair than to his food. He never came out on the verandawithout glancing first of all at her grass house in the corner ofthe compound; and one evening, idly knocking the balls about on thebilliard table, he came to himself to find himself standing staringat the nail upon which from the first she had hung her Stetson hatand her revolver-belt.

　　Why should he care for her? he demanded of himself angrily. Shewas certainly the last woman in the world he would have thought ofchoosing for himself. Never had he encountered one who had sothoroughly irritated him, rasped his feelings, smashed hisconventions, and violated nearly every attribute of what had beenhis ideal of woman. Had he been too long away from the world? Hadhe forgotten what the race of women was like? Was it merely a caseof propinquity? And she wasn't really a woman. She was amasquerader. Under all her seeming of woman, she was a boy,playing a boy's pranks, diving for fish amongst sharks, sporting arevolver, longing for adventure, and, what was more, going out insearch of it in her whale-boat, along with her savage islanders andher bag of sovereigns. But he loved her--that was the point of itall, and he did not try to evade it. He was not sorry that it wasso. He loved her--that was the overwhelming, astounding fact.

　　Once again he discovered a big enthusiasm for Berande. All thebubble-illusions concerning the life of the tropical planter hadbeen pricked by the stern facts of the Solomons. Following thedeath of Hughie, he had resolved to muddle along somehow with theplantation; but this resolve had not been based upon desire.Instead, it was based upon the inherent stubbornness of his natureand his dislike to give over an attempted task.

　　But now it was different. Berande meant everything. It mustsucceed--not merely because Joan was a partner in it, but becausehe wanted to make that partnership permanently binding. Three moreyears and the plantation would be a splendid-paying investment.They could then take yearly trips to Australia, and oftener; and anoccasional run home to England--or Hawaii, would come as a matterof course.

　　He spent his evenings poring over accounts, or making endlesscalculations based on cheaper freights for copra and on thepossible maximum and minimum market prices for that staple ofcommerce. His days were spent out on the plantation. He undertookmore clearing of bush; and clearing and planting went on, under hispersonal supervision, at a faster pace than ever before. Heexperimented with premiums for extra work performed by the blackboys, and yearned continually for more of them to put to work. Notuntil Joan could return on the schooner would this be possible, forthe professional recruiters were all under long contracts to theFulcrum Brothers, Morgan and Raff, and the Fires, Philp Company;while the Flibberty-Gibbet was wholly occupied in running aboutamong his widely scattered trading stations, which extended fromthe coast of New Georgia in one direction to Ulava and Sikiana inthe other. Blacks he must have, and, if Joan were fortunate ingetting a schooner, three months at least must elapse before thefirst recruits could be landed on Berande.

　　A week after the Upolu's departure, the Malakula dropped anchor andher skipper came ashore for a game of billiards and to gossip untilthe land breeze sprang up. Besides, as he told his super-cargo, hesimply had to come ashore, not merely to deliver the large packageof seeds with full instructions for planting from Joan, but toshock Sheldon with the little surprise born of information he wasbringing with him.

　　Captain Auckland played the billiards first, and it was not untilhe was comfortably seated in a steamer-chair, his second whiskysecurely in his hand, that he let off his bomb.

　　"A great piece, that Miss Lackland of yours," he chuckled. "Claimsto be a part-owner of Berande. Says she's your partner. Is thatstraight?"

　　Sheldon nodded coldly.

　　"You don't say? That is a surprise! Well, she hasn't convincedGuvutu or Tulagi of it. They're pretty used to irregular thingsover there, but--ha! ha!- " he stopped to have his laugh out and tomop his bald head with a trade handkerchief. "But that partnershipyarn of hers was too big to swallow, though it gave them the excusefor a few more drinks."

　　"There is nothing irregular about it. It is an ordinary businesstransaction." Sheldon strove to act as though such transactionswere quite the commonplace thing on plantations in the Solomons."She invested something like fifteen hundred pounds in Berande--"

　　"So she said."

　　"And she has gone to Sydney on business for the plantation."

　　"Oh, no, she hasn't."

　　"I beg pardon?" Sheldon queried.

　　"I said she hasn't, that's all."

　　"But didn't the Upolu sail? I could have sworn I saw her smokelast Tuesday afternoon, late, as she passed Savo."

　　"The Upolu sailed all right." Captain Auckland sipped his whiskywith provoking slowness. "Only Miss Lackland wasn't a passenger."

　　"Then where is she?"

　　"At Guvutu, last I saw of her. She was going to Sydney to buy aschooner, wasn't she?"

　　"Yes, yes."

　　"That's what she said. Well, she's bought one, though I wouldn'tgive her ten shillings for it if a nor'wester blows up, and it'sabout time we had one. This has been too long a spell of goodweather to last."

　　"If you came here to excite my curiosity, old man," Sheldon said,"you've certainly succeeded. Now go ahead and tell me in astraightforward way what has happened. What schooner? Where isit? How did she happen to buy it?"

　　"First, the schooner Martha," the skipper answered, checking hisreplies off on his fingers. "Second, the Martha is on the outsidereef at Poonga-Poonga, looted clean of everything portable, andready to go to pieces with the first bit of lively sea. And third,Miss Lackland bought her at auction. She was knocked down to herfor fifty-five quid by the third-assistant-resident-commissioner.I ought to know. I bid fifty myself, for Morgan and Raff. Myword, weren't they hot! I told them to go to the devil, and thatit was their fault for limiting me to fifty quid when they thoughtthe chance to salve the Martha was worth more. You see, theyweren't expecting competition. Fulcrum Brothers had norepresentative present, neither had Fires, Philp Company, and theonly man to be afraid of was Nielsen's agent, Squires, and him theygot drunk and sound asleep over in Guvutu.

　　"'Twenty,' says I, for my bid. 'Twenty-five,' says the littlegirl. 'Thirty,' says I. 'Forty,' says she. 'Fifty,' says I.'Fifty-five,' says she. And there I was stuck. 'Hold on,' says I;'wait till I see my owners.' 'No, you don't,' says she. 'It'scustomary,' says I. 'Not anywhere in the world,' says she. 'Thenit's courtesy in the Solomons,' says I.

　　"And d'ye know, on my faith I think Burnett'd have done it, onlyshe pipes up, sweet and pert as you please: 'Mr. Auctioneer, willyou kindly proceed with the sale in the customary manner? I'veother business to attend to, and I can't afford to wait all nighton men who don't know their own minds.' And then she smiles atBurnett, as well--you know, one of those fetching smiles, and dammeif Burnett doesn't begin singing out: 'Goin', goin', goin'--lastbid--goin', goin' for fifty-five sovereigns--goin', goin', gone--toyou, Miss--er--what name, please?'

　　"'Joan Lackland,' says she, with a smile to me; and that's how shebought the Martha."

　　Sheldon experienced a sudden thrill. The Martha!--a finer schoonerthan the Malakula, and, for that matter, the finest in theSolomons. She was just the thing for recruits, and she was righton the spot. Then he realized that for such a craft to sell atauction for fifty-five pounds meant that there was small chance forsaving her.

　　"But how did it happen?" he asked. "Weren't they rather quick inselling the Martha?"

　　"Had to. You know the reef at Poonga-Poonga. She's not worthtuppence on it if any kind of a sea kicks up, and it's ripe for anor'wester any moment now. The crowd abandoned her completely.Didn't even dream of auctioning her. Morgan and Raff persuadedthem to put her up. They're a co-operative crowd, you know, anorganized business corporation, fore and aft, all hands and thecook. They held a meeting and voted to sell."

　　"But why didn't they stand by and try to save her?"

　　"Stand by! You know Malaita. And you know Poonga-Poonga. That'swhere they cut off the Scottish Chiefs and killed all hands. Therewas nothing to do but take to the boats. The Martha missed staysgoing in, and inside five minutes she was on the reef and inpossession. The niggers swarmed over her, and they just threw thecrew into the boats. I talked with some of the men. They swearthere were two hundred war canoes around her inside half an hour,and five thousand bushmen on the beach. Said you couldn't seeMalaita for the smoke of the signal fires. Anyway, they clearedout for Tulagi."

　　"But why didn't they fight?" Sheldon asked.

　　"It was funny they didn't, but they got separated. You see, two-thirds of them were in the boats, without weapons, running anchorsand never dreaming the natives would attack. They found out theirmistake too late. The natives had charge. That's the trouble ofnew chums on the coast. It would never have happened with you orme or any old-timer."

　　"But what is Miss Lackland intending to do?" Captain Aucklandgrinned.

　　"She's going to try to get the Martha off, I should say. Or elsewhy did she pay fifty-five quid for her? And if she fails, she'lltry to get her money back by saving the gear--spars, you know, andpatent steering-gear, and winches, and such things. At leastthat's what I'd do if I was in her place. When I sailed, thelittle girl had chartered the Emily--'I'm going recruiting,' saysMunster--he's the skipper and owner now. 'And how much will younet on the cruise?' asks she. 'Oh, fifty quid,' says he. 'Good,'says she; 'you bring your Emily along with me and you'll getseventy-five.' You know that big ship's anchor and chain piled upbehind the coal-sheds? She was just buying that when I left.She's certainly a hustler, that little girl of yours."

　　"She is my partner," Sheldon corrected.

　　"Well, she's a good one, that's all, and a cool one. My word! awhite woman on Malaita, and at Poonga-Poonga of all places! Oh, Iforgot to tell you--she palavered Burnett into lending her eightrifles for her men, and three cases of dynamite. You'd laugh tosee the way she makes that Guvutu gang stand around. And to seethem being polite and trying to give advice! Lord, Lord, man, thatlittle girl's a wonder, a marvel, a--a--a catastrophe. That's whatshe is, a catastrophe. She's gone through Guvutu and Tulagi like ahurricane; every last swine of them in love with her--except Raff.He's sore over the auction, and he sprang his recruiting contractwith Munster on her. And what does she do but thank him, and readit over, and point out that while Munster was pledged to deliverall recruits to Morgan and Raff, there was no clause in thedocument forbidding him from chartering the Emily.

　　"'There's your contract,' says she, passing it back. 'And a verygood contract it is. The next time you draw one up, insert aclause that will fit emergencies like the present one.' And, Lord,Lord, she had him, too.

　　"But there's the breeze, and I'm off. Good-bye, old man. Hope thelittle girl succeeds. The Martha's a whacking fine boat, and she'dtake the place of the Jessie."