III. The Devils of Fuatino

by Jack London

　　IOf his many schooners, ketches and cutters that nosed about among thecoral isles of the South Seas, David Grief loved most the _Rattler_--ayacht-like schooner of ninety tons with so swift a pair of heels thatshe had made herself famous, in the old days, opium-smuggling from SanDiego to Puget Sound, raiding the seal-rookeries of Bering Sea, andrunning arms in the Far East. A stench and an abomination to governmentofficials, she had been the joy of all sailormen, and the pride of theshipwrights who built her. Even now, after forty years of driving, shewas still the same old _Rattler_, fore-reaching in the same marvellousmanner that compelled sailors to see in order to believe and thatpunctuated many an angry discussion with words and blows on the beachesof all the ports from Valparaiso to Manila Bay.On this night, close-hauled, her big mainsail preposterously flatteneddown, her luffs pulsing emptily on the lift of each smooth swell, shewas sliding an easy four knots through the water on the veriest whisperof a breeze. For an hour David Grief had been leaning on the rail at thelee fore-rigging, gazing overside at the steady phosphorescence of hergait. The faint back-draught from the headsails fanned his cheek andchest with a wine of coolness, and he was in an ecstasy of appreciationof the schooner's qualities."Eh!--She's a beauty, Taute, a beauty," he said to the Kanaka lookout,at the same time stroking the teak of the rail with an affectionatehand."Ay, skipper," the Kanaka answered in the rich, big-chested tones ofPolynesia. "Thirty years I know ships, but never like 'this. On Raiateawe call her _Fanauao_.""The Dayborn," Grief translated the love-phrase. "Who named her so?"About to answer, Taute peered ahead with sudden intensity. Grief joinedhim in the gaze."Land," said Taute."Yes; Fuatino," Grief agreed, his eyes still fixed on the spot wherethe star-luminous horizon was gouged by a blot of blackness. "It's allright. I'll tell the captain."The _Rattler_ slid along until the loom of the island could be seen aswell as sensed, until the sleepy roar of breakers and the blatting ofgoats could be heard, until the wind, off the land, was flower-drenchedwith perfume."If it wasn't a crevice, she could run the passage a night like this,"Captain Glass remarked regretfully, as he watched the wheel lashed harddown by the steersman.The _Rattler_, run off shore a mile, had been hove to to wait untildaylight ere she attempted the perilous entrance to Fuatino. It was aperfect tropic night, with no hint of rain or squall. For'ard, wherevertheir tasks left them, the Raiatea sailors sank down to sleep on deck.Aft, the captain and mate and Grief spread their beds with similarlanguid unconcern. They lay on their blankets, smoking and murmuringsleepy conjectures about Mataara, the Queen of Fuatino, and about thelove affair between her daughter, Naumoo, and Motuaro."They're certainly a romantic lot," Brown, the mate, said. "As romanticas we whites.""As romantic as Pilsach," Grief laughed, "and that is going some. Howlong ago was it, Captain, that he jumped you?""Eleven years," Captain Glass grunted resentfully."Tell me about it," Brown pleaded. "They say he's never left Fuatinosince. Is that right?""Right O," the captain rumbled. "He's in love with his wife--the littlehussy! Stole him from me, and as good a sailorman as the trade has everseen--if he is a Dutchman.""German," Grief corrected."It's all the same," was the retort. "The sea was robbed of a good manthat night he went ashore and Notutu took one look at him. I reckon theylooked good to each other. Before you could say skat, she'd put a wreathof some kind of white flowers on his head, and in five minutes they wereoff down the beach, like a couple of kids, holding hands and laughing. Ihope he's blown that big coral patch out of the channel. I always starta sheet or two of copper warping past.""Go on with the story," Brown urged."That's all. He was finished right there. Got married that night. Nevercame on board again. I looked him up next day. Found him in a strawhouse in the bush, barelegged, a white savage, all mixed up with flowersand things and playing a guitar. Looked like a bally ass. Told me tosend his things ashore. I told him I'd see him damned first. And that'sall. You'll see her to-morrow. They've got three kiddies now--wonderfullittle rascals. I've a phonograph down below for him, and about amillion records.""And then you made him trader?" the mate inquired of Grief."What else could I do? Fuatino is a love island, and Filsach is a lover.He knows the native, too--one of the best traders I've got, or ever had.He's responsible. You'll see him to-morrow.""Look here, young man," Captain Glass rumbled threateningly at his mate."Are you romantic? Because if you are, on board you stay. Fuatino's theisland of romantic insanity. Everybody's in love with somebody. Theylive on love. It's in the milk of the cocoa-nuts, or the air, or thesea. The history of the island for the last ten thousand years isnothing but love affairs. I know. I've talked with the old men. And if Icatch you starting down the beach hand in hand--"His sudden cessation caused both the other men to look at him. Theyfollowed his gaze, which passed across them to the main rigging, and sawwhat he saw, a brown hand and arm, muscular and wet, being joined fromoverside by a second brown hand and arm. A head followed, thatched withlong elfin locks, and then a face, with roguish black eyes, lined withthe marks of wildwood's laughter."My God!" Brown breathed. "It's a faun--a sea-faun.""It's the Goat Man," said Glass."It is Mauriri," said Grief. "He is my own blood brother by sacredplight of native custom. His name is mine, and mine is his."Broad brown shoulders and a magnificent chest rose above the rail, and,with what seemed effortless ease, the whole grand body followed overthe rail and noiselessly trod the deck. Brown, who might have been otherthings than the mate of an island schooner, was enchanted. All that hehad ever gleaned from the books proclaimed indubitably the faun-likenessof this visitant of the deep. "But a sad faun," was the young man'sjudgment, as the golden-brown woods god strode forward to where DavidGrief sat up with outstretched hand."David," said David Grief."Mauriri, Big Brother," said Mauriri.And thereafter, in the custom of men who have pledged blood brotherhood,each called the other, not by the other's name, but by his own. Also,they talked in the Polynesian tongue of Fuatino, and Brown could onlysit and guess."A long swim to say _talofa_," Grief said, as the other sat and streamedwater on the deck."Many days and nights have I watched for your coming, Big Brother,"Mauriri replied. "I have sat on the Big Rock, where the dynamiteis kept, of which I have been made keeper. I saw you come up to theentrance and run back into darkness. I knew you waited till morning, andI followed. Great trouble has come upon us. Mataara has cried these manydays for your coming. She is an old woman, and Motauri is dead, and sheis sad.""Did he marry Naumoo?" Grief asked, after he had shaken his head andsighed by the custom."Yes. In the end they ran to live with the goats, till Mataara forgave,when they returned to live with her in the Big House. But he is nowdead, and Naumoo soon will die. Great is our trouble, Big Brother. Toriis dead, and Tati-Tori, and Petoo, and Nari, and Pilsach, and others.""Pilsach, too!" Grief exclaimed. "Has there been a sickness?""There has been much killing. Listen, Big Brother, Three weeks ago astrange schooner came. From the Big Rock I saw her topsails above thesea. She towed in with her boats, but they did not warp by the bigpatch, and she pounded many times. She is now on the beach, where theyare strengthening the broken timbers. There are eight white men onboard. They have women from some island far to the east. The womentalk a language in many ways like ours, only different. But we canunderstand. They say they were stolen by the men on the schooner. We donot know, but they sing and dance and are happy.""And the men?" Grief interrupted."They talk French. I know, for there was a mate on your schooner whotalked French long ago. There are two chief men, and they do not looklike the others. They have blue eyes like you, and they are devils. Oneis a bigger devil than the other. The other six are also devils. They donot pay us for our yams, and taro, and breadfruit. They take everythingfrom us, and if we complain they kill us. Thus was killed Tori, andTati-Tori, and Petoo, and others. We cannot fight, for we have noguns--only two or three old guns."They ill-treat our women. Thus was killed Motuaro, who made defence ofNaumoo, whom they have now taken on board their schooner. It was becauseof this that Pilsach was killed. Him the chief of the two chief men, theBig Devil, shot once in his whaleboat, and twice when he tried to crawlup the sand of the beach. Pilsach was a brave man, and Notutu now sitsin the house and cries without end. Many of the people are afraid, andhave run to live with the goats. But there is not food for all in thehigh mountains. And the men will not go out and fish, and they work nomore in the gardens because of the devils who take all they have. And weare ready to fight."Big Brother, we need guns, and much ammunition. I sent word before Iswam out to you, and the men are waiting. The strange white men do notknow you are come. Give me a boat, and the guns, and I will go backbefore the sun. And when you come to-morrow we will be ready for theword from you to kill the strange white men. They must be killed. BigBrother, you have ever been of the blood with us, and the men and womenhave prayed to many gods for your coming. And you are come.""I will go in the boat with you," Grief said."No, Big Brother," was Mauriri's reply. "You must be with the schooner.The strange white men will fear the schooner, not us. We will have theguns, and they will not know. It is only when they see your schoonercome that they will be alarmed. Send the young man there with the boat."So it was that Brown, thrilling with all the romance and adventure hehad read and guessed and never lived, took his place in the sternsheetsof a whaleboat, loaded with rifles and cartridges, rowed by four Baiateasailors, steered by a golden-brown, sea-swimming faun, and directedthrough the warm tropic darkness toward the half-mythical love island ofFuatino, which had been invaded by twentieth century pirates.IIIf a line be drawn between Jaluit, in the Marshall Group, andBougainville, in the Solomons, and if this line be bisected at twodegrees south of the equator by a line drawn from Ukuor, in theCarolines, the high island of Fuatino will be raised in that sun-washedstretch of lonely sea. Inhabited by a stock kindred to the Hawaiian,the Samoan, the Tahitian, and the Maori, Fuatino becomes the apex of thewedge driven by Polynesia far to the west and in between Melanesia andMicronesia. And it was Fuatino that David Grief raised next morning,two miles to the east and in direct line with the rising sun. The samewhisper of a breeze held, and the _Rattler_ slid through the smooth seaat a rate that would have been eminently proper for an island schoonerhad the breeze been thrice as strong.Fuatino was nothing else than an ancient crater, thrust upward from thesea-bottom by some primordial cataclysm. The western portion, brokenand crumbled to sea level, was the entrance to the crater itself, whichconstituted the harbour. Thus, Fuatino was like a rugged horseshoe, theheel pointing to the west. And into the opening at the heel the Rattlersteered. Captain Glass, binoculars in hand and peering at the chart madeby himself, which was spread on top the cabin, straightened up with anexpression on his face that was half alarm, half resignation."It's coming," he said. "Fever. It wasn't due till to-morrow. It alwayshits me hard, Mr. Grief. In five minutes I'll be off my head. You'llhave to con the schooner in. Boy! Get my bunk ready! Plenty of blankets!Fill that hot-water bottle! It's so calm, Mr. Grief, that I think youcan pass the big patch without warping. Take the leading wind and shoother. She's the only craft in the South Pacific that can do it, and Iknow you know the trick. You can scrape the Big Rock by just watchingout for the main boom."He had talked rapidly, almost like a drunken man, as his reeling brainbattled with the rising shock of the malarial stroke. When he stumbledtoward the companionway, his face was purpling and mottling as ifattacked by some monstrous inflammation or decay. His eyes were settingin a glassy bulge, his hands shaking, his teeth clicking in the spasmsof chill."Two hours to get the sweat," he chattered with a ghastly grin. "And acouple more and I'll be all right. I know the damned thing to the lastminute it runs its course. Y-y-you t-t-take ch-ch-ch-ch----"His voice faded away in a weak stutter as he collapsed down into thecabin and his employer took charge. The _Rattler_ was just entering thepassage. The heels of the horseshoe island were two huge mountains ofrock a thousand feet high, each almost broken off from the mainland andconnected with it by a low and narrow peninsula. Between the heels wasa half-mile stretch, all but blocked by a reef of coral extending acrossfrom the south heel. The passage, which Captain Glass had called acrevice, twisted into this reef, curved directly to the north heel, andran along the base of the perpendicular rock. At this point, with themain-boom almost grazing the rock on the port side, Grief, peering downon the starboard side, could see bottom less than two fathoms beneathand shoaling steeply. With a whaleboat towing for steerage and as aprecaution against back-draughts from the cliff, and taking advantage ofa fan of breeze, he shook the Rattler full into it and glided by the bigcoral patch without warping. As it was, he just scraped, but so softlyas not to start the copper.The harbour of Fuatino opened before him. It was a circular sheet ofwater, five miles in diameter, rimmed with white coral beaches, fromwhich the verdure-clad slopes rose swiftly to the frowning crater walls.The crests of the walls were saw-toothed, volcanic peaks, capped andhalo'd with captive trade-wind clouds. Every nook and crevice of thedisintegrating lava gave foothold to creeping, climbing vines andtrees--a green foam of vegetation. Thin streams of water, that weremere films of mist, swayed and undulated downward in sheer descentsof hundreds of feet. And to complete the magic of the place, the warm,moist air was heavy with the perfume of the yellow-blossomed _cassi_.Fanning along against light, vagrant airs, the _Rattler_ worked in.Calling the whale-boat on board, Grief searched out the shore with hisbinoculars. There was no life. In the hot blaze of tropic sun the placeslept. There was no sign of welcome. Up the beach, on the north shore,where the fringe of cocoanut palms concealed the village, he could seethe black bows of the canoes in the canoe-houses. On the beach, on evenkeel, rested the strange schooner. Nothing moved on board of her oraround her. Not until the beach lay fifty yards away did Grief let gothe anchor in forty fathoms. Out in the middle, long years before, hehad sounded three hundred fathoms without reaching bottom, which was tobe expected of a healthy crater-pit like Fuatino. As the chain roaredand surged through the hawse-pipe he noticed a number of native women,lusciously large as only those of Polynesia are, in flowing _ahu's_,flower-crowned, stream out on the deck of the schooner on the beach.Also, and what they did not see, he saw from the galley the squat figureof a man steal for'ard, drop to the sand, and dive into the green screenof bush.While the sails were furled and gasketed, awnings stretched, and sheetsand tackles coiled harbour fashion, David Grief paced the deck andlooked vainly for a flutter of life elsewhere than on the strangeschooner. Once, beyond any doubt, he heard the distant crack of a riflein the direction of the Big Rock. There were no further shots, and hethought of it as some hunter shooting a wild goat.At the end of another hour Captain Glass, under a mountain of blankets,had ceased shivering and was in the inferno of a profound sweat."I'll be all right in half an hour," he said weakly."Very well," Grief answered. "The place is dead, and I'm going ashore tosee Mataara and find out the situation.""It's a tough bunch; keep your eyes open," the captain warned him. "Ifyou're not back in an hour, send word off."Grief took the steering-sweep, and four of his Raiatea men bent to theoars. As they landed on the beach he looked curiously at the women underthe schooner's awning. He waved his hand tentatively, and they, aftergiggling, waved back."_Talofa!_" he called.They understood the greeting, but replied, "_Iorana_," and he knew theycame from the Society Group."Huahine," one of his sailors unhesitatingly named their island. Griefasked them whence they came, and with giggles and laughter they replied,"Huahine.""It looks like old Dupuy's schooner," Grief said, in Tahitian, speakingin a low voice. "Don't look too hard. What do you think, eh? Isn't itthe _Valetta?_"As the men climbed out and lifted the whale-boat slightly up the beachthey stole careless glances at the vessel."It is the _Valetta_," Taute said. "She carried her topmast away sevenyears ago. At Papeete they rigged a new one. It was ten feet shorter.That is the one.""Go over and talk with the women, you boys. You can almost see Huahinefrom Raiatea, and you'll be sure to know some of them. Find out all youcan. And if any of the white men show up, don't start a row."An army of hermit crabs scuttled and rustled away before him as headvanced up the beach, but under the palms no pigs rooted and grunted.The cocoanuts lay where they had fallen, and at the copra-sheds therewere no signs of curing. Industry and tidiness had vanished. Grasshouse after grass house he found deserted. Once he came upon an oldman, blind, toothless, prodigiously wrinkled, who sat in the shade andbabbled with fear when he spoke to him. It was as if the place had beenstruck with the plague, was Grief's thought, as he finally approachedthe Big House. All was desolation and disarray. There were noflower-crowned men and maidens, no brown babies rolling in the shade ofthe avocado trees. In the doorway, crouched and rocking back and forth,sat Mataara, the old queen. She wept afresh at sight of him, dividedbetween the tale of her woe and regret that no follower was left todispense to him her hospitality."And so they have taken Naumoo," she finished. "Motauri is dead. Mypeople have fled and are starving with the goats. And there is no one toopen for you even a drinking cocoa-nut. O Brother, your white brothersbe devils.""They are no brothers of mine, Mataara," Grief consoled. "They arerobbers and pigs, and I shall clean the island of them----"He broke off to whirl half around, his hand flashing to his waist andback again, the big Colt's levelled at the figure of a man, bent double,that rushed at him from out of the trees. He did not pull the trigger,nor did the man pause till he had flung himself headlong at Grief'sfeet and begun to pour forth a stream of uncouth and awful noises. Herecognized the creature as the one he had seen steal from the _Valetta_and dive into the bush; but not until he raised him up and watchedthe contortions of the hare-lipped mouth could he understand what heuttered."Save me, master, save me!" the man yammered, in English, though he wasunmistakably a South Sea native. "I know you! Save me!"And thereat he broke into a wild outpour of incoherence that didnot cease until Grief seized him by the shoulders and shook him intosilence."I know you," Grief said. "You were cook in the French Hotel at Papeetetwo years ago. Everybody called you 'Hare-Lip.'"The man nodded violently."I am now cook of the _Valetta_," he spat and spluttered, his mouthwrithing in a fearful struggle with its defect. "I know you. I saw youat the hotel. I saw you at Lavina's. I saw you on the _Kittiwake_. I sawyou at the _Mariposa_ wharf. You are Captain Grief, and you will saveme. Those men are devils. They killed Captain Dupuy. Me they made killhalf the crew. Two they shot from the cross-trees. The rest they shotin the water. I knew them all. They stole the girls from Huahine. Theyadded to their strength with jail-men from Noumea. They robbed thetraders in the New Hebrides. They killed the trader at Vanikori, andstole two women there. They----"But Grief no longer heard. Through the trees, from the direction ofthe harbour, came a rattle of rifles, and he started on the run for thebeach. Pirates from Tahiti and convicts from New Caledonia! A prettybunch of desperadoes that even now was attacking his schooner. Hare-Lipfollowed, still spluttering and spitting his tale of the white devils'doings.The rifle-firing ceased as abruptly as it had begun, but Grief ranon, perplexed by ominous conjectures, until, in a turn of the path, heencountered Mauriri running toward him from the beach."Big Brother," the Goat Man panted, "I was too late. They have takenyour schooner. Come! For now they will seek for you."He started back up the path away from the beach."Where is Brown?" Grief demanded."On the Big Rock. I will tell you afterward. Come now!""But my men in the whaleboat?"Mauriri was in an agony of apprehension."They are with the women on the strange schooner. They will not bekilled. I tell you true. The devils want sailors. But you they willkill. Listen!" From the water, in a cracked tenor voice, came a Frenchhunting song. "They are landing on the beach. They have taken yourschooner--that I saw. Come!"IIICareless of his own life and skin, nevertheless David Grief waspossessed of no false hardihood. He knew when to fight and when to run,and that this was the time for running he had no doubt. Up the path,past the old men sitting in the shade, past Mataara crouched in thedoorway of the Big House, he followed at the heels of Mauriri. At hisown heels, doglike, plodded Hare-Lip. From behind came the cries of thehunters, but the pace Mauriri led them was heartbreaking. The broad pathnarrowed, swung to the right, and pitched upward. The last grass housewas left, and through high thickets of _cassi_ and swarms of greatgolden wasps the way rose steeply until it became a goat-track. Pointingupward to a bare shoulder of volcanic rock, Mauriri indicated the trailacross its face."Past that we are safe, Big Brother," he said. "The white devils neverdare it, for there are rocks we roll down on their heads, and thereis no other path. Always do they stop here and shoot when we cross therock. Come!"A quarter of an hour later they paused where the trail went naked on theface of the rock."Wait, and when you come, come quickly," Mauriri cautioned.He sprang into the blaze of sunlight, and from below several riflespumped rapidly. Bullets smacked about him, and puffs of stone-dustflew out, but he won safely across. Grief followed, and so near didone bullet come that the dust of its impact stung his cheek. Nor wasHare-Lip struck, though he essayed the passage more slowly.For the rest of the day, on the greater heights, they lay in a lava glenwhere terraced taro and _papaia_ grew. And here Grief made his plans andlearned the fulness of the situation."It was ill luck," Mauriri said. "Of all nights this one night wasselected by the white devils to go fishing. It was dark as we camethrough the passage. They were in boats and canoes. Always do they havetheir rifles with them. One Raiatea man they shot. Brown was very brave.We tried to get by to the top of the bay, but they headed us off, and wewere driven in between the Big Rock and the village. We saved the gunsand all the ammunition, but they got the boat. Thus they learned of yourcoming. Brown is now on this side of the Big Rock with the guns and theammunition.""But why didn't he go over the top of the Big Rock and give me warningas I came in from the sea?" Grief criticised."They knew not the way. Only the goats and I know the way. And this Iforgot, for I crept through the bush to gain the water and swim to you.But the devils were in the bush shooting at Brown and the Raiatea men;and me they hunted till daylight, and through the morning they huntedme there in the low-lying land. Then you came in your schooner, and theywatched till you went ashore, and I got away through the bush, but youwere already ashore.""You fired that shot?""Yes; to warn you. But they were wise and would not shoot back, and itwas my last cartridge.""Now you, Hare-Lip?" Grief said to the _Valetta's_ cook.His tale was long and painfully detailed. For a year he had been sailingout of Tahiti and through the Paumotus on the _Valetta_. Old Dupuy wasowner and captain. On his last cruise he had shipped two strangers inTahiti as mate and supercargo. Also, another stranger he carried to behis agent on Fanriki. Raoul Van Asveld and Carl Lepsius were the namesof the mate and supercargo."They are brothers, I know, for I have heard them talk in the dark, ondeck, when they thought no one listened," Hare-Lip explained.The _Valetta_ cruised through the Low Islands, picking up shell andpearls at Dupuy's stations. Frans Amundson, the third stranger, relievedPierre Gollard at Fanriki. Pierre Gollard came on board to go back toTahiti. The natives of Fanriki said he had a quart of pearls to turnover to Dupuy. The first night out from Fanriki there was shootingin the cabin. Then the bodies of Dupuy and Pierre Gollard were thrownoverboard. The Tahitian sailors fled to the forecastle. For two days,with nothing to eat and the _Valetta_ hove to, they remained below. ThenRaoul Van Asveld put poison in the meal he made Hare-Lip cook and carryfor'ard. Half the sailors died."He had a rifle pointed at me, master; what could I do?" Hare-Lipwhimpered. "Of the rest, two went up the rigging and were shot. Fanrikiwas ten miles away. The others went overboard to swim. They were shotas they swam. I, only, lived, and the two devils; for me they wanted tocook for them. That day, with the breeze, they went back to Fanrika andtook on Frans Amundson, for he was one of them."Then followed Hare-Lip's nightmare experiences as the schooner wanderedon the long reaches to the westward. He was the one living witness andknew they would have killed him had he not been the cook. At Noumea fiveconvicts had joined them. Hare-Lip was never permitted ashore at any ofthe islands, and Grief was the first outsider to whom he had spoken."And now they will kill me," Hare-Lip spluttered, "for they will knowI have told you. Yet am I not all a coward, and I will stay with you,master, and die with you."The Goat Man shook his head and stood up."Lie here and rest," he said to Grief. "It will be a long swim to-night.As for this cook-man, I will take him now to the higher places where mybrothers live with the goats."IV"It is well that you swim as a man should, Big Brother," Mauririwhispered.From the lava glen they had descended to the head of the bay and takento the water. They swam softly, without splash, Mauriri in the lead. Theblack walls of the crater rose about them till it seemed they swamon the bottom of a great bowl. Above was the sky of faintly luminousstar-dust. Ahead they could see the light which marked the Rattler, andfrom her deck, softened by distance, came a gospel hymn played on thephonograph intended for Pilsach.The two swimmers bore to the left, away from the captured schooner.Laughter and song followed on board after the hymn, then the phonographstarted again. Grief grinned to himself at the appositeness of it as"Lead, Kindly Light," floated out over the dark water."We must take the passage and land on the Big Rock," Mauriri whispered."The devils are holding the low land. Listen!"Half a dozen rifle shots, at irregular intervals, attested that Brownstill held the Rock and that the pirates had invested the narrowpeninsula.At the end of another hour they swam under the frowning loom of the BigRock. Mauriri, feeling his way, led the landing in a crevice, up whichfor a hundred feet they climbed to a narrow ledge."Stay here," said Mauriri. "I go to Brown. In the morning I shallreturn.""I will go with you, Brother," Grief said.Mauriri laughed in the darkness."Even you, Big Brother, cannot do this thing. I am the Goat Man, andI only, of all Fuatino, can go over the Big Rock in the night.Furthermore, it will be the first time that even I have done it. Put outyour hand. You feel it? That is where Pilsach's dynamite is kept. Lieclose beside the wall and you may sleep without falling. I go now."And high above the sounding surf, on a narrow shelf beside a ton ofdynamite, David Grief planned his campaign, then rested his cheek on hisarm and slept.In the morning, when Mauriri led him over the summit of the Big Rock,David Grief understood why he could not have done it in the night.Despite the accustomed nerve of a sailor for height and precariousclinging, he marvelled that he was able to do it in the broad light ofday. There were places, always under minute direction of Mauriri, thathe leaned forward, falling, across hundred-foot-deep crevices, until hisoutstretched hands struck a grip on the opposing wall and his legs couldthen be drawn across after. Once, there was a ten-foot leap, above halfa thousand feet of yawning emptiness and down a fathom's length to ameagre foothold. And he, despite his cool head, lost it another time ona shelf, a scant twelve inches wide, where all hand-holds seemed to failhim. And Mauriri, seeing him sway, swung his own body far out and overthe gulf and passed him, at the same time striking him sharply on theback to brace his reeling brain. Then it was, and forever after, that hefully knew why Mauriri had been named the Goat Man.VThe defence of the Big Rock had its good points and its defects.Impregnable to assault, two men could hold it against ten thousand.Also, it guarded the passage to open sea. The two schooners, Raoul VanAsveld, and his cutthroat following were bottled up. Grief, with the tonof dynamite, which he had removed higher up the rock, was master. Thishe demonstrated, one morning, when the schooners attempted to put tosea. The _Valetta_ led, the whaleboat towing her manned by capturedFuatino men. Grief and the Goat Man peered straight down from a saferock-shelter, three hundred feet above. Their rifles were beside them,also a glowing fire-stick and a big bundle of dynamite sticks with fusesand decanators attached. As the whaleboat came beneath, Mauriri shookhis head."They are our brothers. We cannot shoot."For'ard, on the _Valetta_, were several of Grief's own Raiatea sailors.Aft stood another at the wheel. The pirates were below, or on the otherschooner, with the exception of one who stood, rifle in hand, amidships.For protection he held Naumoo, the Queen's daughter, close to him."That is the chief devil," Mauriri whispered, "and his eyes are bluelike yours. He is a terrible man. See! He holds Naumoo that we may notshoot him."A light air and a slight tide were making into the passage, and theschooner's progress was slow."Do you speak English?" Grief called down.The man startled, half lifted his rifle to the perpendicular, and lookedup. There was something quick and catlike in his movements, and in hisburned blond face a fighting eagerness. It was the face of a killer."Yes," he answered. "What do you want?""Turn back, or I'll blow your schooner up," Grief warned. He blew on thefire-stick and whispered, "Tell Naumoo to break away from him and runaft."From the _Rattler_, close astern, rifles cracked, and bullets spattedagainst the rock. Van Asveld laughed defiantly, and Mauriri calleddown in the native tongue to the woman. When directly beneath, Grief,watching, saw her jerk away from the man. On the instant Grief touchedthe fire-stick to the match-head in the split end of the short fuse,sprang into view on the face of the rock, and dropped the dynamite. VanAsveld had managed to catch the girl and was struggling with her. TheGoat Man held a rifle on him and waited a chance. The dynamite struckthe deck in a compact package, bounded, and rolled into the portscupper. Van Asveld saw it and hesitated, then he and the girl ran aftfor their lives. The Goat Man fired, but splintered the corner of thegalley. The spattering of bullets from the _Rattler_ increased, and thetwo on the rock crouched low for shelter and waited. Mauriri tried tosee what was happening below, but Grief held him back."The fuse was too long," he said. "I'll know better next time."It was half a minute before the explosion came. What happened afterward,for some little time, they could not tell, for the Rattler's marksmenhad got the range and were maintaining a steady fire. Once, fanned by acouple of bullets, Grief risked a peep. The _Valetta_, her port deckand rail torn away, was listing and sinking as she drifted back into theharbour. Climbing on board the _Rattler_ were the men and the Huahinewomen who had been hidden in the _Valetta's_ cabin and who had swum forit under the protecting fire. The Fuatino men who had been towing in thewhaleboat had cast off the line, dashed back through the passage, andwere rowing wildly for the south shore.From the shore of the peninsula the discharges of four rifles announcedthat Brown and his men had worked through the jungle to the beach andwere taking a hand. The bullets ceased coming, and Grief and Mauririjoined in with their rifles. But they could do no damage, for the men ofthe _Rattler_ were firing from the shelter of the deck-houses, while thewind and tide carried the schooner farther in.There was no sign of the _Valetta_, which had sunk in the deep water ofthe crater.Two things Raoul Van Asveld did that showed his keenness and coolnessand that elicited Grief's admiration. Under the _Rattler's_ rifle fireRaoul compelled the fleeing Fuatino men to come in and surrender. And atthe same time, dispatching half his cutthroats in the _Rattler's_ boat,he threw them ashore and across the peninsula, preventing Brown fromgetting away to the main part of the island. And for the rest of themorning the intermittent shooting told to Grief how Brown was beingdriven in to the other side of the Big Rock. The situation wasunchanged, with the exception of the loss of the _Valetta_.VIThe defects of the position on the Big Rock were vital. There wasneither food nor water. For several nights, accompanied by one of theRaiatea men, Mauriri swam to the head of the bay for supplies. Then camethe night when lights flared on the water and shots were fired. Afterthat the water-side of the Big Rock was invested as well."It's a funny situation," Brown remarked, who was getting all theadventure he had been led to believe resided in the South Seas. "We'vegot hold and can't let go, and Raoul has hold and can't let go. He can'tget away, and we're liable to starve to death holding him.""If the rain came, the rock-basins would fill," said Mauriri. It wastheir first twenty-four hours without water. "Big Brother, to-night youand I will get water. It is the work of strong men."That night, with cocoanut calabashes, each of quart capacity and tightlystoppered, he led Grief down to the water from the peninsula side of theBig Rock. They swam out not more than a hundred feet. Beyond, they couldhear the occasional click of an oar or the knock of a paddle againsta canoe, and sometimes they saw the flare of matches as the men in theguarding boats lighted cigarettes or pipes."Wait here," whispered Mauriri, "and hold the calabashes."Turning over, he swam down. Grief, face downward, watched hisphosphorescent track glimmer, and dim, and vanish. A long minuteafterward Mauriri broke surface noiselessly at Grief's side."Here! Drink!"The calabash was full, and Grief drank sweet fresh water which had comeup from the depths of the salt."It flows out from the land," said Mauriri."On the bottom?""No. The bottom is as far below as the mountains are above. Fifty feetdown it flows. Swim down until you feel its coolness."Several times filling and emptying his lungs in diver fashion, Griefturned over and went down through the water. Salt it was to his lips,and warm to his flesh; but at last, deep down, it perceptibly chilledand tasted brackish. Then, suddenly, his body entered the cold,subterranean stream. He removed the small stopper from the calabash,and, as the sweet water gurgled into it, he saw the phosphorescentglimmer of a big fish, like a sea ghost, drift sluggishly by.Thereafter, holding the growing weight of the calabashes, he remained onthe surface, while Mauriri took them down, one by one, and filled them."There are sharks," Grief said, as they swam back to shore."Pooh!" was the answer. "They are fish sharks. We of Fuatino arebrothers to the fish sharks.""But the tiger sharks? I have seen them here.""When they come, Big Brother, we will have no more water todrink--unless it rains."VIIA week later Mauriri and a Raiatea man swam back with empty calabashes.The tiger sharks had arrived in the harbour. The next day they thirstedon the Big Rock."We must take our chance," said Grief. "Tonight I shall go after waterwith Mautau. Tomorrow night, Brother, you will go with Tehaa."Three quarts only did Grief get, when the tiger sharks appeared anddrove them in. There were six of them on the Rock, and a pint a day, inthe sweltering heat of the mid-tropics, is not sufficient moisture for aman's body. The next night Mauriri and Tehaa returned with no water. Andthe day following Brown learned the full connotation of thirst, when thelips crack to bleeding, the mouth is coated with granular slime, and theswollen tongue finds the mouth too small for residence.Grief swam out in the darkness with Mautau. Turn by turn, they went downthrough the salt, to the cool sweet stream, drinking their fill whilethe calabashes were filling. It was Mau-tau's turn to descend with thelast calabash, and Grief, peering down from the surface, saw the glimmerof sea-ghosts and all the phosphorescent display of the struggle. Heswam back alone, but without relinquishing the precious burden of fullcalabashes.Of food they had little. Nothing grew on the Rock, and its sides,covered with shellfish at sea level where the surf thundered in, weretoo precipitous for access. Here and there, where crevices permitted, afew rank shellfish and sea urchins were gleaned. Sometimes frigate birdsand other sea birds were snared. Once, with a piece of frigate bird,they succeeded in hooking a shark. After that, with jealously guardedshark-meat for bait, they managed on occasion to catch more sharks.But water remained their direst need. Mauriri prayed to the GoatGod for rain. Taute prayed to the Missionary God, and his two fellowislanders, backsliding, invoked the deities of their old heathen days.Grief grinned and considered. But Brown, wild-eyed, with protrudingblackened tongue, cursed. Especially he cursed the phonograph thatin the cool twilights ground out gospel hymns from the deck of the_Rattler_. One hymn in particular, "Beyond the Smiling and the Weeping,"drove him to madness. It seemed a favourite on board the schooner, forit was played most of all. Brown, hungry and thirsty, half out ofhis head from weakness and suffering, could lie among the rocks withequanimity and listen to the tinkling of ukuleles and guitars, andthe hulas and himines of the Huahine women. But when the voices of theTrinity Choir floated over the water he was beside himself. One eveningthe cracked tenor took up the song with the machine:"Beyond the smiling and the weeping,I shall be soon.Beyond the waking and the sleeping,Beyond the sowing and the reaping,I shall be soon,I shall be soon."Then it was that Brown rose up. Again and again, blindly, he emptied hisrifle at the schooner. Laughter floated up from the men and women, andfrom the peninsula came a splattering of return bullets; but the crackedtenor sang on, and Brown continued to fire, until the hymn was playedout.It was that night that Grief and Mauriri came back with but one calabashof water. A patch of skin six inches long was missing from Grief'sshoulder in token of the scrape of the sandpaper hide of a shark whosedash he had eluded.VIIIIn the early morning of another day, before the sun-blaze had gained itsfull strength, came an offer of a parley from Raoul Van Asveld.Brown brought the word in from the outpost among the rocks a hundredyards away. Grief was squatted over a small fire, broiling a strip ofshark-flesh. The last twenty-four hours had been lucky. Seaweed and seaurchins had been gathered. Tehaa had caught a shark, and Mauriri hadcaptured a fair-sized octopus at the base of the crevice where thedynamite was stored. Then, too, in the darkness they had made twosuccessful swims for water before the tiger sharks had nosed them out."Said he'd like to come in and talk with you," Brown said. "But I knowwhat the brute is after. Wants to see how near starved to death we are.""Bring him in," Grief said."And then we will kill him," the Goat Man cried joyously.Grief shook his head."But he is a killer of men, Big Brother, a beast and a devil," the GoatMan protested."He must not be killed, Brother. It is our way not to break our word.""It is a foolish way.""Still it is our way," Grief answered gravely, turning the strip ofshark-meat over on the coals and noting the hungry sniff and look ofTehaa. "Don't do that, Tehaa, when the Big Devil comes. Look as if youand hunger were strangers. Here, cook those sea urchins, you, and you,Big Brother, cook the squid. We will have the Big Devil to feast withus. Spare nothing. Cook all."And, still broiling meat, Grief arose as Raoul Van Asveld, followed by alarge Irish terrier, strode into camp. Raoul did not make the mistake ofholding out his hand."Hello!" he said. "I've heard of you.""I wish I'd never heard of you," Grief answered."Same here," was the response. "At first, before I knew who it was,I thought I had to deal with an ordinary trading captain. That's whyyou've got me bottled up.""And I am ashamed to say that I underrated you," Grief smiled. "I tookyou for a thieving beachcomber, and not for a really intelligent pirateand murderer. Hence, the loss of my schooner. Honours are even, I fancy,on that score."Raoul flushed angrily under his sunburn, but he contained himself. Hiseyes roved over the supply of food and the full water-calabashes, thoughhe concealed the incredulous surprise he felt. His was a tall, slender,well-knit figure, and Grief, studying him, estimated his characterfrom his face. The eyes were keen and strong, but a bit too closetogether--not pinched, however, but just a trifle near to balance thebroad forehead, the strong chin and jaw, and the cheekbones wide apart.Strength! His face was filled with it, and yet Grief sensed in it theintangible something the man lacked."We are both strong men," Raoul said, with a bow. "We might have beenfighting for empires a hundred years ago."It was Grief's turn to bow."As it is, we are squalidly scrapping over the enforcement of thecolonial laws of those empires whose destinies we might possibly havedetermined a hundred years ago.""It all comes to dust," Raoul remarked sen-tentiously, sitting down. "Goahead with your meal. Don't let me interrupt.""Won't you join us?" was Grief's invitation.The other looked at him with sharp steadiness, then accepted."I'm sticky with sweat," he said. "Can I wash?"Grief nodded and ordered Mauriri to bring a calabash. Raoul looked intothe Goat Man's eyes, but saw nothing save languid uninterest as theprecious quart of water was wasted on the ground."The dog is thirsty," Raoul said.Grief nodded, and another calabash was presented to the animal.Again Raoul searched the eyes of the natives and learned nothing."Sorry we have no coffee," Grief apologized. "You'll have to drink plainwater. A calabash, Tehaa. Try some of this shark. There is squid tofollow, and sea urchins and a seaweed salad. I'm sorry we haven't anyfrigate bird. The boys were lazy yesterday, and did not try to catchany."With an appetite that would not have stopped at wire nails dipped inlard, Grief ate perfunctorily, and tossed the scraps to the dog."I'm afraid I haven't got down to the primitive diet yet," he sighed,as he sat back. "The tinned goods on the _Rattler_, now I could make ahearty meal off of them, but this muck----" He took a half-pound stripof broiled shark and flung it to the dog. "I suppose I'll come to it ifyou don't surrender pretty soon."Raoul laughed unpleasantly."I came to offer terms," he said pointedly.Grief shook his head."There aren't any terms. I've got you where the hair is short, and I'mnot going to let go.""You think you can hold me in this hole!" Raoul cried."You'll never leave it alive, except in double irons." Grief surveyedhis guest with an air of consideration. "I've handled your kind before.We've pretty well cleaned it out of the South Seas. But you are a--howshall I say?--a sort of an anachronism. You're a throwback, and we'vegot to get rid of you. Personally, I would advise you to go back to theschooner and blow your brains out. It is the only way to escape whatyou've got coming to you."The parley, so far as Raoul was concerned, proved fruitless, and he wentback into his own lines convinced that the men on the Big Rock couldhold out for years, though he would have been swiftly unconvinced couldhe have observed Tehaa and the Raiateans, the moment his back wasturned and he was out of sight, crawling over the rocks and sucking andcrunching the scraps his dog had left uneaten.IX"We hunger now, Brother," Grief said, "but it is better than to hungerfor many days to come. The Big Devil, after feasting and drinking goodwater with us in plenty, will not stay long in Fuatino. Even to-morrowmay he try to leave. To-night you and I sleep over the top of the Rock,and Tehaa, who shoots well, will sleep with us if he can dare the Rock."Tehaa, alone among the Raiateans, was cragsman enough to venture theperilous way, and dawn found him in a rock-barricaded nook, a hundredyards to the right of Grief and Mauriri.The first warning was the firing of rifles from the peninsula, whereBrown and his two Raiateans signalled the retreat and followed thebesiegers through the jungle to the beach. From the eyrie on the faceof the rock Grief could see nothing for another hour, when the _Rattler_appeared, making for the passage. As before, the captive Fuatino mentowed in the whaleboat. Mauriri, under direction of Grief, called downinstructions to them as they passed slowly beneath. By Grief's sidelay several bundles of dynamite sticks, well-lashed together and withextremely short fuses.The deck of the _Rattler_ was populous. For'ard, rifle in hand, amongthe Raiatean sailors, stood a desperado whom Mauriri announced wasRaoul's brother. Aft, by the helmsman, stood another. Attached to him,tied waist to waist, with slack, was Mataara, the old Queen. On theother side of the helmsman, his arm in a sling, was Captain Glass.Amidships, as before, was Raoul, and with him, lashed waist to waist,was Naumoo."Good morning, Mister David Grief," Raoul called up."And yet I warned you that only in double irons would you leave theisland," Grief murmured down with a sad inflection."You can't kill all your people I have on board," was the answer.The schooner, moving slowly, jerk by jerk, as the men pulled in thewhaleboat, was almost directly beneath. The rowers, without ceasing,slacked on their oars, and were immediately threatened with the rifle ofthe man who stood for'ard."Throw, Big Brother!" Naumoo called up in the Fuatino tongue. "I amfilled with sorrow and am willed to die. His knife is ready with whichto cut the rope, but I shall hold him tight. Be not afraid, Big Brother.Throw, and throw straight, and good-bye."Grief hesitated, then lowered the fire-stick which he had been blowingbright."Throw!" the Goat Man urged.Still Grief hesitated."If they get to sea, Big Brother, Naumoo dies just the same. And thereare all the others. What is her life against the many?""If you drop any dynamite, or fire a single shot, we'll kill all onboard," Raoul cried up to them. "I've got you, David Grief. You can'tkill these people, and I can. Shut up, you!"This last was addressed to Naumoo, who was calling up in her nativetongue and whom Raoul seized by the neck with one hand to choketo silence. In turn, she locked both arms about him and looked upbeseechingly to Grief."Throw it, Mr. Grief, and be damned to them," Captain Glass rumbledin his deep voice. "They're bloody murderers, and the cabin's full ofthem."The desperado who was fastened to the old Queen swung half about tomenace Captain Glass with his rifle, when Tehaa, from his positionfarther along the Rock, pulled trigger on him. The rifle dropped fromthe man's hand, and on his face was an expression of intense surprise ashis legs crumpled under him and he sank down on deck, dragging the Queenwith him."Port! Hard a port!" Grief cried.Captain Glass and the Kanaka whirled the wheel over, and the bow of the_Rattler_ headed in for the Rock. Amidships Raoul still struggled withNaumoo. His brother ran from for'ard to his aid, being missed by thefusillade of quick shots from Tehaa and the Goat Man. As Raoul's brotherplaced the muzzle of his rifle to Naumoo's side Grief touched thefire-stick to the match-head in the split end of the fuse. Even as withboth hands he tossed the big bundle of dynamite, the rifle went off,and Naumoo's fall to the deck was simultaneous with the fall of thedynamite. This time the fuse was short enough. The explosion occurredat the instant the deck was reached, and that portion of the _Rattler_,along with Raoul, his brother, and Naumoo, forever disappeared.The schooner's side was shattered, and she began immediately to settle.For'ard, every Raiatean sailor dived overboard. Captain Glass met thefirst man springing up the com-panionway from the cabin, with a kickfull in the face, but was overborne and trampled on by the rush.Following the desperadoes came the Huahine women, and as they wentoverboard, the _Rattler_ sank on an even keel close to the base of theRock. Her cross-trees still stuck out when she reached bottom.Looking down, Grief could see all that occurred beneath the surface. Hesaw Mataara, a fathom deep, unfasten herself from the dead pirate andswim upward. As her head emerged she saw Captain Glass, who could notswim, sinking several yards away. The Queen, old woman that she was,but an islander, turned over, swam down to him, and held him up as shestruck out for the unsubmerged cross-trees.Five heads, blond and brown, were mingled with the dark heads ofPolynesia that dotted the surface. Grief, rifle in hand, watched for achance to shoot. The Goat Man, after a minute, was successful, and theysaw the body of one man sink sluggishly. But to the Raiatean sailors,big and brawny, half fish, was the vengeance given. Swimming swiftly,they singled out the blond heads and the brown. Those from above watchedthe four surviving desperadoes, clutched and locked, dragged far downbeneath and drowned like curs.In ten minutes everything was over. The Huahine women, laughing andgiggling, were holding on to the sides of the whaleboat which had donethe towing. The Raiatean sailors, waiting for orders, were about thecross-tree to which Captain Glass and Mataara clung."The poor old _Rattler_," Captain Glass lamented."Nothing of the sort," Grief answered. "In a week we'll have her raised,new timbers amidships, and we'll be on our way." And to the Queen, "Howis it with you, Sister?""Naumoo is gone, and Motauri, Brother, but Fuatino is ours again. Theday is young. Word shall be sent to all my people in the high placeswith the goats. And to-night, once again, and as never before, we shallfeast and rejoice in the Big House.""She's been needing new timbers abaft the beam there for years," quothCaptain Glass. "But the chronometers will be out of commission for therest of the cruise."