Amongst them as they waited whilst Aioma and Katafa distributed food, sat two women, Nanu and Ona, each with a dead child clasped in her arms. The child of Nanu had been killed instantaneously by a bullet that had pierced its neck and the arm of its mother. Ona’s child, pierced in its body, had died slowly, bleeding its life away and wailing4 as it bled.
These two women, high cheeked, frizzy-headed and of the old fierce Melanesian stock which formed the backbone5 and hitting force of Karolin, were strange to watch as they sat nursing their dead, speechless, passionless, heedless of food or drink or what might happen. The others ate, too paralysed by the events of the day to prepare food for themselves, they yet took what was given to them with avidity, then, when dark came, they crept back into the bushes to sleep, whilst Dick, leaving Katafa in charge of Aioma, left the trees and under cover of the darkness came along the beach past the bodies, over which the birds were still at work, until he was level with the schooner6.
She showed no lights on deck, no sign of life but the two tiny dim golden discs of the cabin portholes.
Taking his seat on a weather-worn piece of coral, he sat watching her. Forward, close to the foc’sle head, he saw now two forms, Le Moan and Kanoa; they drew together, then they vanished, the deck now seemed deserted7, but he continued to watch. Already in his mind he foresaw vaguely8 the plan of Rantan. To-morrow they would not use the boat, they would move the schooner, bring her opposite the village and then with those terrible things that could speak so loudly and hit so far they would begin again—and where could the people go? The forty-mile reef would be no protection; away from the trees and the puraka patches the people would starve, they would have no water. The people were tied to the village.
He sat with his chin on his clenched9 fists staring at the schooner and the two evil golden eyes that were staring him back like the eyes of a beast.
If only a single canoe had been left he would have paddled off and, with Aioma and maybe another for help, would have attacked, but the canoes were gone— and the dinghy.
Then as he sat helpless, with hatred10 and the fury of hell in his heart, the golden eyes vanished. Rantan had put out the light.
With the rising moon he saw as in a glass, darkly, little by little and bit by bit, the tragedy we have seen in full. He saw the grouping of the foc’sle hands as they came up from below, he saw them disappear as they sat on deck. Then he saw the figure of Le Moan, her halt at the saloon hatch and the following of Kanoa, he heard the scream of the stricken Carlin.
Lastly he saw the crowding of the hands aft, Carlin’s body being dragged on deck and cast overboard into a lather11 of moonshine and phosphorus, and something white carried shoulder high to forward of the galley12 where it was laid on deck.
Then after a few moments lights began to break out, lanterns moved on the deck, the portholes broke alive again and again were blotted13 out as the cabin lamp lit and taken from its attachments14 was carried on deck and swung from the ratlins of the main for decorative15 purposes. The moon gave all the light that any man in his sober senses could want, but the crew of the schooner were not sober, they were drunk with the excitement of the business, and though nominally16 free men they felt as slaves feel when their bonds are removed. Besides, Rantan and Carlin had plotted to kill them as they had killed Sru and the others. On top of that there was a bottle of ginger17 wine. It had been stored in the medicine locker—Peterson, like many other seamen18, had medical fancies of his own and he believed this stuff to be a specific for the colic. It had escaped Carlin’s attention, but Poni, who acted as steward19, had sniffed20 at it, tasted it and found it good.
It was served out in a tin cup.
Then, across the water came the sound of voices, the twanging of a native fiddle21, and now the whoop-whoop of dancers in the hula dance songs, laughter against which came the thunder of the moonlit sea on the outer beach and an occasional cry from the gulls23 at their food.
Dick, rising, made back towards the trees; his heart felt easier. Without knowing what had occurred, he still knew that something had happened to divide his enemies, that they had quarrelled, and that one had been killed; that, with Sru and his companions, made five gone since the schooner had dropped anchor.
Lying down beside Katafa, whilst Taiepu kept watch, he fell asleep.
At dawn Taiepu, shouting like a gull22, came racing24 through the trees whilst the bushes gave up their people. They came crowding out on the beach to eastward25 of the trees and there, sure enough, was Le Moan, the schooner against the blaze at the Gates of Morning, and the boat hanging a hundred yards off shore.
Kneeling on the sands before Taori, glancing sometimes up into his face, swiftly, as one glances at the sun, Le Moan told her tale whilst the sun itself now fully26 risen blazed upon the man before her.
Dick listened, gathered from the artless story the sacrifices she had made at first, the heroism27 she had shown to the last, but nothing of her real motive28, nothing of the passion that came nigh to crushing her as Katafa, catching29 her in her arms, and, pressing her lips on her forehead, led her away tenderly as a sister to the shelter of the trees.
Then the mob, true to itself and forgetting their saviour30, turning, raced along the sands, boys, women and children, till they got level with the waiting boat shouting welcome to the newcomers.
Poni in the stern sheets rose and waved his arms, the boat driven by a few strokes reached the beach and next moment the crew of the Kermadec and the people of Karolin were fraternizing—embracing one another like long-lost relatives.
And now a strange thing happened.
Dick, who stood watching all this, deposed31 for a moment as chief men are sometimes temporarily deposed and forgotten in moments of great national heart movements, saw in the boat, the naked, bound figure of Rantan lying on the bottom boards.
He came closer and the eyes of Rantan, which were open, met the eyes of Taori.
Rantan was a white man.
There was no appeal in the eyes of Rantan—he who knew the Islands so well knew that his number was up; he gazed at the golden brown figure of Taori, gazed at that face so strange for a kanaka, yet so truly the face of an islander, gazed as a white man upon a native.
For a moment it was as though race gazed upon kindred race disowning it, not seeing it, mistaking it for an alien and lower race and from deep in the mind of Dick vague and phantom-like rose trouble.
He did not know that he himself was a white man, blood brother of the man in the boat. He knew nothing, yet he felt trouble. He turned to Aioma.
“Will he die?”
“Ay, most surely will he die,” said the old fellow with a chuckle32. “Will the dog-fish not die when he is caught? He who killed the canoes, the children, is it not just that he should die?”
Dick inclined his head without speaking. He turned to where Nanu and the other woman were standing33, waiting, terrible, with their dead children still clasped in their arms.
“It is just,” said he, “see to it, Aioma,” and turning without another glance at the boat he walked away, past the shattered canoes, past the half-picked bones, through the sunlight, towards the trees.
Aioma, no longer himself, but something more evil, came towards the boat making little bird-like noises, rubbing his shrivelled hands together, stroking his thighs34.
The tide was just at full ebb35, the old ledge2 where the victims of Nanawa were staked out in past times for the sharks to eat was uncovered and only waiting for a victim. It lay halfway36 between the village and the reef break and in old times one might have known when an execution was to take place by the fins37 of the tiger sharks cruising around it. This morning there were no sharks visible.
Rantan was reserved for a worse fate; for, as Aioma, standing by the boat, called on the people to take their vengeance38, the woman Nanu, still holding her dead child in her arms stepped up to him followed by Ona.
“He is ours,” said Nanu.
Aioma turned on her like a savage39 old dog—he was about to push her back amongst the crowd when Ona advanced a step.
“He is ours,” said Ona, glancing at the form in the boat as though it were a parcel she was claiming, whilst the crowd, reaching to the woods, broke in, speaking almost with one voice.
“So be it,” said Aioma, too much of a diplomat41 to oppose the mob on a matter of sentiment, and curious as to what gory42 form of vengeance the women would adopt. “So be it, and now what will you do with him?”
“We will take him to the southern beach with us. We alone,” said Nanu.
“We would be alone with him,” said Ona, shifting her dead child from her right to her left arm as one might shift a parcel.
“But how will you take him?” asked the old man.
“In a canoe,” said Nanu.
“Then go and build it,” said the canoe-builder. “What foolishness is this, for well you know the canoes are broken.”
“Aioma,” said Nanu, “there is one little canoe which is yet whole, it lies in the further canoe-house, so far in that it has been forgotten; it belonged to my man, the father of my child, he who went with the others but did not return. I have never spoken of it and no one has seen it, for no one goes into the canoe-houses now that the great canoes are gone.”
“Then let it be fetched,” said Aioma. He stood whilst a dozen of the crowd broke away and racing towards the trees disappeared in the direction of the canoe-houses. Presently the canoe, a fishing outrigger, showed on the water of the lagoon43, two boys at the paddles. They beached it close to the boat, the dead children were lashed44 to the gratings with strips of coconut45 sennit, Rantan, raised by half a dozen pairs of hands, was lifted and placed in the bottom of the little craft, and the women, pushing off, got on board, and raised the sail.
The steering46 paddle flashed and the crowd stood watching as the canoe grew less on the surface of the water, less and less, making for the southern beach, till now it was no larger than a midge in the lagoon dazzle that, striking back at the sun, roofed Karolin with a forty-mile dome47 of radiance.
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1
instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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tenacity
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| n.坚韧 | |
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wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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backbone
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| n.脊骨，脊柱，骨干；刚毅，骨气 | |
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schooner
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| n.纵帆船 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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8
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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9
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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lather
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| n.(肥皂水的)泡沫，激动 | |
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galley
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| n.（飞机或船上的）厨房单层甲板大帆船；军舰舰长用的大划艇； | |
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13
blotted
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| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
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14
attachments
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| n.（用电子邮件发送的）附件( attachment的名词复数 )；附着；连接；附属物 | |
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15
decorative
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| adj.装饰的，可作装饰的 | |
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nominally
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| 在名义上，表面地； 应名儿 | |
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ginger
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| n.姜，精力，淡赤黄色；adj.淡赤黄色的；vt.使活泼，使有生气 | |
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seamen
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| n.海员 | |
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steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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20
sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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21
fiddle
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| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
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gull
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| n.鸥；受骗的人；v.欺诈 | |
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gulls
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| n.鸥( gull的名词复数 )v.欺骗某人( gull的第三人称单数 ) | |
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24
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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27
heroism
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| n.大无畏精神，英勇 | |
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28
motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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29
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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saviour
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| n.拯救者，救星 | |
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31
deposed
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| v.罢免( depose的过去式和过去分词 )；（在法庭上）宣誓作证 | |
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32
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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33
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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34
thighs
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| n.股，大腿( thigh的名词复数 )；食用的鸡（等的）腿 | |
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35
ebb
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| vi.衰退，减退；n.处于低潮，处于衰退状态 | |
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halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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37
fins
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| [医]散热片；鱼鳍；飞边；鸭掌 | |
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38
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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39
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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40
slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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diplomat
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| n.外交官，外交家；能交际的人，圆滑的人 | |
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gory
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| adj.流血的；残酷的 | |
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43
lagoon
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| n.泻湖，咸水湖 | |
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44
lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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45
coconut
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| n.椰子 | |
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46
steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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dome
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| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
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