by Louis Becke
III ~ BANDERAH
Banderah, the supreme chief of Mayou, was, _vide_ Mr. Deighton's reportto his clerical superiors, "a man of much intelligence, favourablydisposed to the spread of the Gospel, but, alas! of a worldly nature,and clinging for worldly reasons to the darkness." In other words,Banderah, although by no means averse to the poorer natives of theisland adopting Christianity in a very free and modified form, andcontributing a certain amount of their possessions to the missionarycause, was yet a heathen, and intended to remain one. For Mr. Deightonhe had conceived a personal liking, mingled with a wondering andcontemptuous pity. During an intertribal war he had received a bullet inhis thigh, which the missionary had succeeded, after much difficulty, inextracting. Consequently, his gratitude was unlimited, and he evinced itin a very practical manner, by commanding some hundreds of his subjectsto become Christians under pain of death. And, being aware that polygamywould not be tolerated by Mr. Deighton, he went a step further, andordered all those of these forced converts who had more than one wifeto send them to his own harem. This addition to his family duties,was, however, amply compensated for by the labour of the surplus wivesproving useful to him on his yam and taro plantations.
In his younger days Banderah had once made a voyage to Sydney, in theservice of a trading captain, one Lannigan, whose name, in those days,was a name to conjure with from one end of Melanesia to the other, andfor whose valour as a fighter and killer of men Banderah had acquireda respect he could never entertain for a missionary. This captain,however, died in Sydney, full of years and strong drink, and left thechief almost broken-hearted, to return a year later to Mayou.
In his curious, semi-savage character there were some good points, andone was that in compliance with the oft-expressed wishes and earnestentreaties of Blount and Mr. Deighton, he had agreed to put down thelast remnants of cannibalism which had lingered among the coast tribeson the island down to the time of this story. And although the oldermen, and some of the priests of the heathen faith, had struggled againsthis drastic legislation, they finally gave in when Mr. Deighton, weepingtears of honest joy at such a marvellous and wholesale conversion,presented each convert with a new print shirt and a highly colouredpicture of the Israelites crossing the Red Sea.
An hour after Blount had walked along the beach to Lak-a-lak, Banderahsaw the captain of the schooner come ashore and walk up the path toNathaniel Burrowes' house, where he was warmly greeted by Burrowes andthe German. He remained there for nearly an hour, and then cameout again, and looking about him for a few moments, made direct forBanderah's house, which stood about three hundred yards back from thatof the American trader.
When close to the chiefs house the captain of the _Starlight_ raised hishead, and Banderah caught sight of his features and recognised him.
"How are you, Bandy?" said the seaman, walking smartly up to the chief,who was sitting on a mat inside his doorway, surrounded by a part of hisharem and family, "you haven't forgotten me, have you?"
"Oh, no, sir. I no forget you," said the native, civilly enough, butwithout warmth. "How are you, Cap'en Bilker?"
"Sh', don't call me that, Bandy. I'm Captain Sykes now."
"Yes?" and Banderah's face at once assumed an expression of the mosthopeless stupidity. "All right, Cap'en Sike. Come inside an' sit down."
"Right, my boy," said Bilker genially, fumbling in his coat pocket, andproducing a large flask of rum, "I've brought you a drink, Bandy; and Iwant to have a yarn with you."
"All right," and taking the flask from the captain's hand withoutdeigning to look at it, he passed it on to one of his wives. "What youwant talk me about, Cap'en? You want me to get you some native for workon plantation?" and he smiled slily.
"No, no, Bandy. Nothing like that I don't run a labour ship now. I'm abig fellow gentleman now. I'm captain of that yacht."
The chief nodded, but said nothing. He knew Captain "Sykes" of old, andknew him to be an undoubted rascal. Indeed, about ten years before thecunning blackbirder captain had managed to take thirty of Banderah'speople away in his ship without paying for them; and the moment thechief recognised the sailor he set his keen native brain to work todevise a plan for getting square with him. And he meant to take deadlyvengeance.
"Banderah, old man," and the captain laid one hand on the chiefs nakedknee, "I meant to pay you for those men when I came back next trip. ButI was taken by a man-of-war," here Bilker crossed his wrists to signifythat he had been handcuffed; "taken to Sydney, put me in calaboose--tenyears."
"You lie," said Banderah quietly, but with a danger spark in his eye,"man-o'-war no make you fas' for a long time after you steal my men.Plenty people tell me you make two more voyage; then man-o'-war catchyou an' make you fas'."
"Don't you believe 'em, Banderah," began the ex-blackbirder, when thechief interrupted him--
"What you do with my brother?" he said suddenly; "he die too, in Fiji?"
The white man's face paled. "I don't know, Banderah. I didn't know yourbrother was aboard when my mate put the hatches on. I thought he hadgone ashore. I never meant to take him away to Fiji anyway."
"All right; never mind that. But what you want talk to me about?" Andthen, as if to put his visitor at his ease, he added, "You dam rogue, medam rogue."
"Yes, yes," assented Captain Bilker cheerfully; "but look here now,Bandy, I'm not only going to pay you for those men I took, but give youa lot of money as well--any amount of money; make you a big, rich chief;big as Maafu Tonga.{*} But I want you to help me."
* Maafu of Tonga, the once dreaded rival of King Cacobau of Fiji. He died in 1877.
"You speak me true?" inquired the chief.
"I swear it," answered the captain promptly, extending his hand, which,however, Banderah did not appear to see.
"All right," he said presently, after a silence of a few moments; thenmaking a sign for his women and slaves to withdraw to the further endof the room, so that their muttered talk might not disturb the white manand himself, he lit his pipe and said, "Go on, tell me what you want meto do, Cap'en."
"Look," said the ex-blackbirder, laying a finger on the chiefs arm andspeaking in a low voice, "these two white men on board the yacht havegot any amount of money, gold, sovereigns--boxes and boxes of it Theystole it; I know they stole it, although I didn't see them do it."
Banderah nodded his huge, frizzy head. "I savee. These two fellow rogue,all same you an' me."
"See, now, look here, Banderah. I mean to have that gold, and I want youto help me to get it. As soon as these men on board are dead I will giveyou a thousand golden sovereigns--five thousand dollar. Then I'll goaway in the schooner. Now, listen, and I'll tell you how to do it. TheYankee and Peter are going to help."
Then Captain Bilker, _alias_ Sykes, unfolded his plan as follows:Banderah was to entice De Vere and his friend some miles into theinterior, where there was a large swamp covered with wild-fowl. Herethey were to be clubbed by Banderah and his people, and the bodiesthrown into the swamp. Then Bilker, accompanied by Schwartzkoff andBurrowes, were to go on board the schooner and settle the mate and thewhite steward.
"How much sovereign you goin' to give Peter and Missa Burrowes?" askedBanderah.
"Five hundred," answered Bilker; "five hundred between them. But I willgive you a thousand."
"You no 'fraid man-o'-war catch you by and by?" inquired Banderah.
"No. Who's going to tell about it? You and your people won't."
"What 'bout Missa Blount? What 'bout mission'ry?"
Bilker grinned savagely. "Peter and Burrowes say they will kill Blountif I give them another five hundred sovereigns."
"What 'bout mission'ry and mission'ry woman?"
For a moment or two Bilker, crime-hardened villain as he was, hesitated.Then he raised his head and looked into the dark face of the nativechief. Its set, savage expression gave him confidence.
"Plenty missionaries get killed. And, all the man-o'-war captains knowthat the Mayou bush-men{*} are very savage. Some d
ay--in about a weekafter I have gone away in the schooner, you will take the missionaryand his wife to the little bush town, that Peter and Burrowes tell mehe goes to sometimes. They will sleep there that night. You and some ofyour people will go with them and sleep in the same house with them. Youdo that sometimes, Banderah, eh?"
* "Bushmen," a term applied to natives living in the interior of the Melanesian Islands.
"Yes, sometimes."
This was perfectly true. The bush tribes on Mayou, although at war withBanderah and his coast tribes, yet occasionally met their foes in anamicable manner at a bush village called Rogga, which had been for manydecades a neutral ground. Here Banderah and his people, carrying fish,tobacco, and bamboos filled with salt water,{*} would meet smallparties of bush people, who, in exchange for the commodities broughtby Banderah, would give him yams, hogs, and wild pigeons. At several ofthese meetings Mr. Deighton had been present, in the vain hope that hemight establish friendly relations with the savage and cannibal peopleof the interior.
* Having no salt, the bush tribes of Melanesia, who dare not visit the coast, buy salt water from the coast tribes. They meet a a spot which is always sacredly kept as a neutral ground.
"Well," resumed the ruffian, "you will sleep at Rogga with themissionary and his wife. In the morning, when you and your people awake,the missionary and his wife will be dead. Then you will hurry to thisplace; you will go on board the man-of-war and tell the captain that thebad bushmen killed them when they were asleep."
"I savee. Everybody savee Mayou man-a-bush like kill white men."
"That's it, Bandy. No one will say you did it."
"What 'bout Peter an' Burrowes? Perhaps by and by those two fellow getmad with me some day, and tell man-o'-war I bin kill three white man andone white woman."
"Banderah," and Bilker slapped him on the shoulder, "you're a damnedsmart fellow! There's no mistake about that. Now look here, I want youto get another thousand sovereigns--the thousand I am going to give toBurrowes and Peter. And after the man-a-bush have killed the missionaryand his wife, they are coming down to the beach one night soon after,and will kill the two white men. Then there will be no more white menleft, and you'll be the biggest chief in the world--as big as MaafuTonga."
A curious smile stole over the grim features of the chief.
"By God! Cap'en, you savee too much; you dam fine man altogether."
"Well, look here now, Banderah. Are you going to do it?"
"Yes, I do it right enough."
"When?"
"To-mollow."
"To-morrow will do. And, look here, Bandy, I'm going to give you tensovereigns each for the men I took away from you."
"All right," answered the chief, "now you go away. I want go and lookout for some good men come along me to-mollow."
"Right you are, Banderah. Take plenty good men. You know what todo--white men walk along swamp to shoot duck, then _one, two,_" andCaptain Bilker made a motion with his right hand that was perfectlycomprehensible to the chief.
Banderah sat perfectly quiet on his mat and watched the captainreturn to Burrowes' house, from where a short time after he emerged,accompanied by his two fellow-conspirators. Then the three of themhailed the schooner. A boat put off and took them on board.
*****
An hour or two later Blount returned along the beach from Lak-a-lak, andwalked slowly up the path to his house. Just as he entered the door thesounds of revelry came over to him from the schooner, whose lights werebeginning to glimmer through the quick-falling darkness of the tropicnight. Some one on board was playing an accordion, and presently hecaught the words of a song--
"Remember, too, the patriots' gore That flecked the streets ofBaltimore; Maryland, my Maryland."
"Burrowes only sings that when he's very drunk," he said to himself,as he sat down to drink a cup of coffee brought to him by his eldestdaughter Taya. "No doubt he and that anointed sweep Bilker are having avery happy time together."
"Father," said the girl in the native tongue, as he put down his cup,"Banderah is here. He came but now, and will not come inside, but waitsfor thee in the copra-house, lest he be seen talking to thee."
"What the devil is wrong?" muttered Blount, as without waiting to touchthe coffee prepared for him he went outside to the copra-house.
In half an hour he and the native chief came out together, and as theystood for a minute in the broad streak of light that streamed out fromthe lamp on the table in the big room, Taya, who sat in the doorway, sawher father's face was set and stern-looking.
"Shed thou no blood, Banderah," he said in the native tongue, "not eventhat of these two dogs who have eaten and drunk in my house for fouryears."
"Challi,{*} that is hard. Already are my people thirsty for the bloodof this dog of a captain--he who stole thirty and one of my people. Andbecause of my brother, who was stolen with them, have I promised themvengeance. But the other two who are with him on the ship I will spare."
* Charlie.
"As you will. And as for these two dogs who have planned to kill me,with them I shall deal myself. If, when the schooner saileth away fromhere, these men go not with her, then shall I shoot them dead."
"Good," and then grasping the white man's hand, the chief pressed hisnose to his, and vanished in the darkness.
