Tessa, George Lewis Becke [children's ebooks free online txt] 📗

went for'ard, and with considerable foul language
desired them to stop their damned psalm-singing. He then
offered them two bottles of Hollands gin. The native seamen
refused to accept the liquor, whereupon Mr. Chard struck one
of them and knocked him down. Then Captain Hendry, who was
much the worse for drink, came for'ard, and calling on me to
follow and assist him, attacked the crew, who were very-
excited (but offered no violence), with an iron belaying-
pin. He stunned three of them before the second mate, the
chief engineer, and myself could restrain him, and he
threatened to shoot what he called "the ringleaders of a
mutiny." He had a revolver belted round his waist. The
native crew then came aft and made a complaint to. Mr.
Harvey Carr, the trader, who was lying ill with fever in his
berth. He came on deck, and speaking in Samoan to the crew
and to the women who had been brought on board by Captain
Hendry and the supercargo, urged the women to go on shore,
as it was Sunday. This they at once did, and getting into a
canoe, paddled away. Thereupon Captain Hendry, Mr. Sam
Chard, and the white traders became very insulting to Mr.
Carr, who, although he was so ill, kept his temper, until
Mr. Chard called him a "missionary crawler." This
expression made Mr. Carr lose control of himself, and he
used very strong language to Captain Hendry and the
supercargo upon the gross impropriety of their conduct. He
certainly used expressions that he should not have employed,
but under the circumstances, and bearing in mind the fact
that the native crew were ready for mutiny, and that mutiny
was only averted by Mr. Carr's influence over the native
crew, I and my fellow officers, whose names are attached,
desire to record the facts of the case.

"'Then Captain Hendry and Mr. Sam Chard used very foul
language to Mr. Carr, who again lost his temper and called
the former a damned stock-fish eating Dutchman, who had no
right to sail under British colours as an Englishman, and
ought to be kicked off the deck of a British ship. He
(Mr. Carr) then, being greatly excited, added that Captain
Hendry, being a married man with a large family, was little
better than a brute beast in his mode of life, else he would
not have brought half a dozen native harlots on board--women
whose very presence insulted even his native crew. Mr. Chard
then advanced towards Mr. Carr in a threatening manner,
whereupon the whole native crew, headed by a white stoker
named Cleaver, rushed the after-deck, seized Captain Hendry
and Mr. Chard, and threw them below into the saloon.

"'Mr. Carr then addressed the crew in their own several
languages, and explained to them the danger of laying hands
upon the captain or an officer of the ship; also he
explained to them his own position as a passenger. They
listened to him quietly, and promised to follow his
directions. At six o'clock Captain Hendry and Mr. Sam Chard
came on deck, and in my presence and in that of the second
officer and Felix Latour, the steward, apologised to Mr.
Carr. Mr. Carr, who was very exhausted with fever, shook
hands with them both, and the matter has ended. I have
briefly entered these occurrences in the ship's log, which
Captain Hendry refuses to sign. But this statement of mine
is signed as follows:--

"'James Oliver, Chief Officer.

"'Jos. Atkins, Second Officer.

"'Felix Latour, Steward.

"'Tom Cleaver, Fireman."

The trader held out his hand, "Thank you, Oliver. But I'm afraid that the firm of Hillingdon and McFreeland will be glad to get rid of a man like me. I'm not the sort of trader they want. I took service with them under the impression that they were straight people. They are not--they are simply unmitigated sweeps. Hillingdon, with his solemn, stone-jug-like face, I _know_ to be a most infernal rogue. He fakes the firm's accounts to the detriment of the London people who are paying the piper, and who are really the firm. As for Sam Chard and this measly, sneaking, Danish skipper, they are merely minor thieves. But I didn't do so badly with them, did I, Oliver?"

The mate laughed loudly. "No, indeed. You settled them that time. But you must be careful. Hendry especially is a dangerous man. I believe that he wouldn't stick at murder if it could be done without any fear of detection. And he hates you like poison. Chard, too, is a scoundrel, but wouldn't do anything worse than he has done, which is bad enough, for the fat blackguard always keeps up the appearance of a jolly, good-natured fellow. But be careful of Hendry. Don't lean on the rail on a dark night when he's on deck. He'd give you a hoist overboard in a second if you gave him a chance and no one was about."

"I'll watch him, Oliver. And when I get better, I'll take it out of him. But I'm not going to let him and Chard drive me out of the ship. I am under a two years' engagement to this rascally firm, and have only three more months to put in. I'll settle in the Carolines, and start trading there on my own account. I'm sick of this filthy old tub."

"So is Morrison, and so am I," said the mate, as he rose to go for'ard again. "Hallo, here is the skipper coming at last."

A quarter of an hour later the captain's boat, came alongside, and Hendry and his supercargo came aft under the awning, and with much solicitude asked Carr how he was feeling. He replied civilly to their inquiries, but excused himself when Chard asked him to have a small bottle of lager. They were accompanied by two respectable-looking white men, who were resident traders on Drummond's Island.

"I have some news for you, Mr. Carr," said the supercargo genially; "there's an old friend of yours here, a trader named Remington."

Carr raised himself with an expression of pleasure lighting up in his worn, thin face. "Old Jack Remington! Where is he? I _shall_ be glad to see him again."

"He'll be aboard here in another hour. He has a station at the north end of the island. The moment we mentioned your name he said he would come and see you. His daughter is going on to the Carolines with us, and he has just now gone off to his station to bring her on board, as the captain wants to get away at daylight in the morning." Then with a pleasant nod he moved his chair some little distance away, and began talking business with the two traders.

Carr, lying on his side with half-closed eyes, apparently was trying to sleep, in reality he was studying the supercargo's face. It was a handsome, "taking" sort of face, rather full and a bit coarse perhaps, deeply browned by tropic suns, and lit up by a pair of jet black eyes, which, when the possessor was in a good temper and laughed, seemed to dance in unison. Yet they were eyes that in a moment could narrow and show an ugly gleam, that boded ill for the object of their owner's resentment. His curly hair and beard were jet black also, save here and there where they were streaked with grey, and his figure, stout, but close and well-knit together, showed him to be a man of great strength and activity.

From the face of the supercargo Carr let his glance light upon the figure of Captain Louis Hendry, who was standing at the break of the poop talking to the chief mate. He was a small, slightly-built man of about fifty years of age, with regular features, and wore a flowing grey beard trimmed to a point. His eyes were those of the true Scandinavian, a bright steely blue, though at the present moment the whites were bloodshot and angry-looking. As he talked he kept stroking his beard, and directing sullen glances at the crew, who were still working hard at hoisting in the bags of copra. It was not a pleasant face to look at--a sullen ill-humour seemed to glower forth from under the bushy grey eyebrows, and vie with a nervous, sneaking apprehensiveness, as if he every moment feared to be struck from behind. That he was a bit of a dandy was very evident, for although his navy serge coat and cap were soiled and dirty, they were both heavily trimmed with gold lace--a most unusual adornment for the master of an island trading steamer. Like his supercargo, he carried a revolver at his side, and at this Carr looked with a contemptuous smile, for neither of the two traders, who actually lived on the island, thought it necessary to carry arms, though the natives of Taputeauea, as Drummond's Island was called, had a bad reputation.

An hour after sunset, and whilst supper was proceeding in the saloon, a smart whaleboat, manned by a crew of half-naked natives of Pleasant Island, came alongside, and an old white-haired man of past sixty stepped on deck. He was accompanied by a fair-skinned, dark-haired girl of about twenty. The boatswain conducted them aft to where Carr, now shaking with a violent attack of ague, was lying.

"My dear boy," cried the old man, kneeling beside the trader, and looking into his face with intense sympathy. "I am so glad to meet you again, though sorry to see you so ill."

Carr, with chattering teeth, held out an icy-cold hand.

"How are you, Remington? And you, Tessa? I'll be all right in another ten minutes, and then we can talk."

Tessa Remington slipped down on the deck into a sitting posture beside him, and placed her soft, warm hand on his forehead.

"Don't talk any more just now, Mr. Carr. There, let me tuck you in properly," and she wrapped the rugs more closely around him. "I know exactly what to do, don't I, father?"


CHAPTER II


From his boyhood Harvey Carr had been a wanderer among the islands of the Southern Seas. Before he was sixteen his father, who was owner and master of a Hobart Town whaleship, had perished at sea in one of the ship's boats after the loss of his vessel upon an uncharted reef in the South Pacific. And though another sixteen years had almost passed since that dreadful time of agony and hunger, and thirst and madness, when men looked at each other with a horrid meaning in their wolfish eyes, the boy had never forgotten his dying father's words, spoken to the lad when the grey shadow of the end had deepened upon the old seaman's rugged face--

"I'm done for, Harvey. Try to keep up the men's courage. Rain will fall before morning. I know it is coming, though I shall never feel it. Stick to your two little sisters, boy; you must be their mainstay when I am gone. Lead