Adventure, February 1917 — page 44: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

42 “You said such an unlucky sort of thing yesterday. I’m not superstitious—really, Ben—but-I hate to hear any one say he or she’s happy. Because, somehow or other, misfortune always does seem to follow.” “Qh, that’s only the crest of the wave and the trough—the systole and diastole of life,’ was Slade’s opinion. “When things have gone on well for a long time, a change is about due. It’s like saying you have a presentiment it will rain, because it’s been fine for six Weeks.” “Well, anyhow, if misfortune was to come, I’m glad it wasn’t you it hit.” “T’m not glad of anything in connection with the business. It’s a vile nuisance. It means that I’m short-handed, and may have to go off and get more boys. I know of a place where I’ve marked down two deaf- mutes, fine strong fellows. I’ll have to be off after them tomorrow.” “You'll take me, too?”’ “Not much. I’ll run you down to Sama- rai first. It’s Jamieson Island, and they’re rude little beggars up that way—sling rocks down on you from the top of mountains, and peg spears.” “Are they cannibals?” “Don’t you ever worry whether a Papuan is a cannibal or not. It doesn’t matter. Some of the best natives in the country are man-eaters, and some of the most treacher- ous and dangerous aren’t. Your best cooky boy is one, when he’s at home. I always do prefer one for a cook; they’re better.” “You make one’s blood run cold. I sha’n’t have one easy moment till you re- turn.” ‘You'll have plenty of easy moments. Every man in New Guinea, except the clerks in the stores, goes off among the cannibals now and again, and comes back again all right. It’s only because you don’t know the country. Murua’ll tell you.” “Oh, yes, Mrs. Slade, the cannibals are often quite superior people and they very seldom eat any one with whom they have not a serious quarrel,’”’ averred Murua. “Pups and I have seen lots and lots of them, and we are quite good friends with them.” “Except when you plug them through the liver,” remarked Edith. . Slade shrieked. “You are quite human, when you de- scend to slang, Edith,” he said. ‘But about my trip—you mustn’t think of worrying; I Adventure shall be perfectly safe. In this country, we’ve got to go and disappear into the un- known every now and then; it’s all in the day’s work. And one always comes back all right—almost always.” _ “What about the fifty gold-diggers who left their bags at a trader’s somewhere ‘on the coast and started to cross the main range, and never came for their bags, be- cause they never were heard of again?” “Oh, you’ve got that yarn, have you? My dear girl, it’s ancient history—away back in the times of the Boer War. If that’s all you have to worry about— But serious- ly, Edith, you must get accustomed to this sort of thing.” “Will you swear there’s no danger?” “No, I won’t; that would be absurd. There’s danger in nearly everything people do. e You may break your leg playing ten- nis. “Well, can you tell me there’s no more danger in this than in playing tennis?” “T can’t. You'll just have to accustom yourself to things. I told you.New Guinea’ wasn’t a picnic. Be a good girl and go down with Murua to Samarai.” “Mr. Slade,” remarked Murua, crossing her khaki legs and looking out wisely from the immense bush of her hair, “TI think it would be better if Mrs. Slade and I re- mained here while you are away. It is a very long way to Samarai, and when the weather is unpropitious, in a launch, the hardest heart gets sick. You know I have often been left alone at the station, like a perfect Alexander Selkirk, in Pups’ absence, and that’s a place where cannibalism sim- ply abounds. Whereas there are no people at all on this island except your own boys, and Captain Page’s schooner will be passing before long, so we could send messages any- where if the stores got low.”’ “There’s no reason at all why you shouldn’t,” said Slade thoughtfully, “‘only that Edith is too new to the country to understand that she runs no risk.” “T can understand it when you tell me so,” answered Edith for herself, rather proudly. “TI would much rather stay.” “Very well, Joan,” said Slade, with one of his kind looks. “You couldn’t be with a better person than Murua. [I'll be off to- morrow.” “How long will you be away?” asked Edith, turning her eyes to the far, exquisite blue island floating between earth and ~ . CONNCHOOLKS (E@