Adventure, August 1917 — page 126: what you’re looking at

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

124 Toruki would have his way concerning the ‘women seemed certain. With the exception of Henderson, the rest seemed callous as to their fate as long as their own tracks were covered. This was the raw side of the world and men were apt to be far less than divine, very little more than barely human. To leave women to such a horror as Toruki seemed an incredible thing to contemplate, much less believe, but Loudon knew from reliabis sources how lightly life was valued in these latitudes compared to the lust for money or revenge. Somehow or other he had to get away and reach the settlement before the surprise broke. An hour or two—he had no means of ac- curately judging the time—would see the abrupt curtain of tropic dusk, that knows no twilight, dropped, and the schooner setting out on her mission. How long they had taken to make the trip was an easy calcula- tion. Twelve hours would cover it. Un- doubtedly the schooner had stood far out to sea to deceive any watch that Rotorua might have set to see his orders were obeyed. Going back would be a shorter trip. They would hold along the reef, reaching the creek and making quick time on land to arrive before dawn. He lay quietly for a while until he had evolved the only feasible or possible plan. They were anxious minutes but they were necessary to bring back his strength at the urge of his will. Everything depended upon the slumber of the men ashore. In the tropi- cal afternoon, sated with food and heavy liquor, the natives would be almost certain to succumb to drowsiness and the white men had been up all night. They had prob- ably not napped yet for the excitement of reaching Rapanui. It was the only way out. The supercargo had gone ashore to share in the feast. Four natives had rowed and one steered in place of Tomi. That left only two of the native crew of eight aboard, en- vious at being kept out of the food and liquor. If only one of them would come below! Loudon concentrated his mind on the wish, mainly to counteract the wear and tear of uncertainty. There was liquor in the cabin. Surely one of the kanaka boys would think of that sooner or later. His straining ear caught the light scuffle of feet on the companionway. He started to groan. There was the clink of a bottle Adventure that paused abruptly and he moaned piti- fully. The bolt of his cabin squeaked, the lock turned and a face peered in. “You pirikia?”’ Loudon tossed on his bunk with closed eyes and muttered. The curious, half-afraid native crept toward him. ‘“What matter you?” Loudon opened his eyes. “You boy,” he gasped, simulating an- guish as he twisted his features. ‘“‘You bring me drink. Bimeby me mate. Bimeby my aitu (spirit) walk along you.” The shallow-pated kanaka winced at the mention of the word. He did not want a white man’s ghost haunting him. He hesi- tated and Loudon writhed on his blankets. “Wiki-utki (quick) you,” he gasped. ‘“What you give?” ‘“‘There is tala in my cabin. I hide. You bring one drink, I tell you.” Tala meant money, the most modern and powerful god in Melanesia. The native crept softly away and returned with a. bottle of squareface and a glass. He poured a generous measure and held it out toward Loudon. ‘‘Help me,”’ said Loudon, raising his head and letting it fall again in exhaustion. The native slid one hand and arm under the head of the groaning man and bent forward with the glass. Loudon sent the crook of his elbow round the kanaka’s neck in a half-Nelson and brought up his right fist in a short-arm jolt with every ounce of force he possessed. The native grunted and slid to the floor. Loudon bounded from the bunk and tore off the man’s loin-cloth, trussing him with the long strip. He darted into the cabin and entered the skipper’s quarters. The small arms were kept there. If the chest was open... . It was. His own automatic was there with some other pistols. For once Hender- son had been careless. With a gun the rest was easier. He had hardly hoped for so effective a weapon. Back in the super- cargo’s cabin the boy was coming to, only to find a cold muzzle clapped to his head. ‘‘Now, you call other boy down for drink,” said Loudon. ‘‘Not too loud.” The trick worked. The second native came swiftly down the ladder until he felt the gun pressing his stomach. Loudon’s’ caution stopped his yell. Ashen with fear, he descended slowly and stood with ex- tended arms against the cabin wall, putting Comiclaook C© 5}