The White Waterfall

by James Francis Dwyer

the Islands, but because theywere on a different plane to me. I had been belting native crews ontrading schooners between the Carolines and the Marquesas, and whenashore I had little opportunity for speaking to a woman of the type ofEdith Herndon.

  And she understood the feeling that held me tongue-tied. To make me feelat my ease she started to tell of everything that had happened from themoment that _The Waif_ had cleared Sydney Heads, and the time shespent in that recital was as precious to me as the two-minute intervalbetween rounds is to a prize-fighter who has been knocked silly themoment before the round ends. I had shaken the dizziness out of my headwhen she finished, and I had obtained control over my tongue.

  "You must tell us a lot about the South Seas," she cried. "You have beendown here such a long time that you must have many interesting things torelate. Captain Newmarch will not talk, and Mr. Leith refuses to seeanything picturesque in the sights he has seen during his wanderings."

  "Who is Mr. Leith?" I asked.

  "He is father's partner in this expedition," she said quietly. "He haslived down here for many years, but he will not tell us much. AndBarbara is anxious to know everything she can."

  "Barbara?" I stammered. "Then--then there is another lady aboard?"

  "Oh, yes! my sister," cried the girl. "I think I hear her coming now."

  There was no question about the latter part of her remark. A burst oflaughter that was more infectious than influenza came from thecompanion-stairs, and immediately in its wake came a girl who made methink, as I compared her to Miss Edith, of a beautiful yacht alongside astately liner. Barbara Herndon was sunshine personified. Laughter wentwith her wherever she went, and a pair of Tongans, polishing brasses,immediately put their molars on view, as if they had understood whatcaused the smiles upon her pretty face as she came toward us.

  "Oh, you are the new mate?" she cried, as I was introduced. "Mr. Holmanwas just telling me about you. He said that you repeated a chapter of'Pilgrim's Progress' every time you woke up after a sleep."

  I blushed as I made a mental resolve that I would punch the head of thatyoungster when I had a suitable opportunity, and in between mystammering explanations I made notes on the differences between the twogirls. Edith was as stately as Juno, with a face that was so sweet andrestful that a glance at it was better than an opiate for a man whosenerves were all out of tune. She had that kind of repose that you seesometimes on the face of an Oriental statue, the repose that comes towomen who have met great trials or for whom great trials are waiting.Barbara was altogether different. She found the world rather an amusingplace, and it seemed as if she took it for granted that her sister wascapable of shouldering the cares of the family, leaving her free tosmile at all the amusing incidents she found in the course of the day.

  It appeared to me that I was an amusing incident to her at that moment.She returned to the fool story that Holman had told, and I couldn'tsidestep her questions.

  "But it is true that you were quoting Bunyan on the wharf when Mr.Holman found you, isn't it?" she asked mischievously.

  "No, it isn't true," I spluttered. "I only asked Mr. Holman a questionto see if he was familiar with 'Pilgrim's Progress'."

  "Why did you ask him that?" she quizzed. "I'm sure he looks a perfectlyrespectable young man."

  Miss Edith was smiling, but she took pity upon me at last andendeavoured to rescue me from my tormentor.

  "Oh, Barbara!" she cried reprovingly, "Mr. Verslun will think you arevery inquisitive. You must not pry into his private affairs."

  "But it is nothing private," I gurgled. "I simply asked Mr. Holman aquestion in an endeavour to find out what a Maori and a Fijian weretalking about."

  "Oh, it is something mysterious!" cried the younger girl. "I knew it! Iknew it! We are getting into the region of mystery at last! Oh, Mr.Verslun, you are a perfect treasure! It has been a nasty, dull, old tripfrom the moment we left Sydney Harbour, and you are the first person tobring a little colour into the voyage."

  She was so worked up at the thought of hearing something wonderfullymysterious and romantic that I started to make a long yarn out of thatincident on the wharf just for her benefit. Miss Edith was interestedtoo, but I was convinced, as I polished up the points of the little taleand endeavoured to pull in a thrill, that the elder sister was derivingher pleasure from watching the face of the younger one, and not from mystory.

  "It pleases Barbara," she cried, when I had told how Toni had denied allknowledge of his friend, and how the Maori had sent the farewell chantafter the boat. "She thinks she will see and hear wonderful thingsbefore we get back to civilization."

  "I hope she will," I said, and little did I dream that the wish Iexpressed at that moment should come true in such a remarkable mannerbefore we had returned.

  "And you don't know what they meant by their song about the whitewaterfall and Black Fernando's hell?" murmured Barbara.

  "No, I don't," I replied. "The Maori ran away when I attempted tocross-examine him, and Toni denies all knowledge of the duet on thewharf."

  "Oh, we must ask him again!" she cried. "There he is near the wheel.I'll go and bring him!"

  She raced madly after the Fijian and hauled him before us in triumph. Iwas more convinced than ever that it was Toni who had blundered overhis lesson on the wharf, but Toni denied the charge more vehemently thanhe did on the boat. He asserted in reply to Barbara Herndon's questions,that he could not sing a note, that he was absolutely ignorant of whitewaterfalls, and the only hell he knew was the one spoken of by themissionary in Lower George Street, Sydney; and the girl sighed as shegave up the effort.

  "It seemed such a nice mystery to unravel," she murmured, "but if Tonipersists in saying that he knows nothing of the white waterfall theinvestigation falls to the ground."

  The Fijian was backing away with renewed protestations when a head cameround the corner of the galley, and a voice that was deeper than thecaves of Atiu fired a question at us.

  "What about the white waterfall?"

  "Oh, Mr. Leith," cried Miss Barbara, "we have just been investigating amystery. Mr. Verslun discovered it this afternoon in Levuka. But youhaven't met Mr. Verslun yet, have you?"

  "I haven't," growled the owner of the voice.

  "Mr. Verslun, this is Mr. Leith, who is father's partner," said MissBarbara. "He knows a lot about the Islands, but he refuses to tell anyof his experiences."

  I looked at the man who stood in front of me, and a curious thingflashed through my mind. I was reminded at that moment of a story I hadread of a man charged with an attempt upon the life of a prince. Thewould-be murderer informed the judge that a terrible hate of theprinceling had gripped him the moment he put eyes on him, and he hadmade the attempt upon his life before he had managed to control theunexplainable surge of hate. I understood the emotion that had grippedthat unfortunate as I stood face to face with Leith. A feeling ofrevulsion gripped me, and I experienced a peculiar squalmy sensation asI took his hand. It was unexplainable. Perhaps some ancestor of mine hadunsatisfactory dealings with a man of the same unusual type in a farawaypast, and the transmitted hate had suddenly sprung into the consciousarea. I do know that you can keep a secretary-bird away from snakes tillit grows old, but the first reptile it sees it immediately starts out tobeat him up. I had the inherited hate that makes the secretary-bird rushmadly at a snake that may be the first of its species that it has everseen, and I guess that Leith had no love to spare for me from the momenthe took my hand.

  He was a huge brute, fully six feet tall, and he was the possessor oftwo of the strongest-looking hands I had ever seen. They were claws,that's what they were. The great fingers were slightly crooked, as ifwaiting, like the tentacles of an octopus, for something to get in theirgrip. The body was heavy, and, in a manner that I cannot explain, itmade me think of animals that lived and died in long past ages. The bigbrute looked so capable of making an inexcusable attack that one'sprimitive instincts warned one to keep in a state of readiness for theonslaught that seemed imminent.


  But it was the face that was specially unattractive. It was a sallow,flat face, and the strange eyes did nothing to lighten it. They weredead, lustreless eyes. They had a coldness in them that reminded me ofthe icicle eyes of the crocodile, and, curiously, I associated thatreptile's notions of fair warfare with Leith as I looked at him. Thatsullen face, with the eyes that would never brighten at a tale ofdaring, or dim from a story of pathos, belonged to a man who wouldimitate crocodile tactics by lying quiet till his prey was withinstriking distance.

  "What is all this about the white waterfall?" he repeated, after thecrooked fingers had dropped my hand.

  "Oh, it's something that happened to Mr. Verslun," replied Miss Barbara.

  "Where?" asked Leith.

  "On the wharf over there," I answered coldly, nodding toward thestructure as I spoke. "It's really nothing important though, and Irelated it solely for Miss Herndon's amusement."

  "But Toni?" he growled, turning toward the two girls.

  "Oh, Toni puts forward an alibi," laughed the youngest sister. "Heasserts that he was in the boat when the incident happened and hepersists in saying that he knows nothing about the matter."

  Leith again turned toward me, and his brows straightened as he looked mein the eyes. "Can't you tell the story over again?" he asked.

  "I'd rather not," I said, somewhat rudely. "I'm tired of it. It wasreally only a small happening that I am afraid I expanded a little in anendeavour to thrill Miss Herndon, and the story is now her personalproperty."

  "But the bare facts?" he growled.

  "There are no bare facts," I replied. "I covered them with fiction, andI think Miss Herndon is going to copyright the whole."

  He took the remark as a direct refusal on my part to give him an outlineof the affair to satisfy his curiosity, and I felt elated at noting thesudden glint of anger that appeared in the lustreless eyes.

  The two girls stood silent for a moment while Leith and I surveyed eachother without speaking, then a Tahitian boy broke the awkward silence byinforming me that the captain wished to see me in the cabin, and Ihurriedly excused myself to the sisters and went below.

  CHAPTER III

  A KNIFE FROM THE DARK

  It was after nine o'clock that evening before I again saw young Holman,and by that time Levuka was far behind. We had taken advantage of astiff breeze that had sprung up about sunset, and _The Waif_ wasplunging through a moon-washed ocean, sending furrows of foam from herforefoot while the wind snored through her canvas. I forgot thehappenings of the day as I felt the quivering vessel that seemed tothrill with the ecstasy of life as she flung herself at the waterywastes ahead. The tremor in her boards seemed to crawl into my body andwarm me like wine, and I felt inclined to bless Holman instead ofpunching his head as I had thought of doing during the baiting Ireceived from Miss Barbara Herndon. The youngster had saved me from daysand nights of weary monotony in sleepy Levuka, and I welcomed him gladlyas he joined me on the poop.

  "Say, you made a hit with the ladies!" he cried. "Your fame as astory-teller is set upon a solid foundation. And I don't suppose you areinclined to thank me for giving you the opportunity to tell of thewonderful things that happened while you slumbered on the wharf?"

  "Drop it," I growled; "I've had enough of the joke. By the way, whatposition do you hold in the expedition?"

  The boy laughed. "I hold none," he cried, "but I'm trying to make myselfuseful to the Professor so that he'll invite me to come ashore with him.The Professor and his daughters, with Leith and half a dozen natives,comprise the full strength of the expedition, and I'm trying hard for aninvitation to the field of wonders."

  "But what are you doing aboard?" I asked.

  "My uncle owns _The Waif_," answered the young fellow, "and he thoughtthis trip would be a nice cheap holiday for me. I wanted to take a runto the States, but that would have cost him money, so I allowed myselfto be forced aboard the yacht. But, Gee! I'm mighty glad I came now."

  I glanced at his face as we turned in our walk, but he moved his headaway quickly.

  "So it has been pleasant?" I said.

  "Pleasant?" he cried. "Why it has been a little foretaste of heaven.Say, I like you, and I know you like her by the manner in which youexplained everything to her. Don't you think she's a jolly nice girl?"

  "Who?"

  "Why, Miss Barbara Herndon," he cried.

  "Oh!" I gurgled. "You took me by surprise, and I hardly knew--well, Ididn't know what had made the trip so pleasant."

  He put out his hand, and I gripped it warmly. There was something cleanand good about the youngster. When he glanced up at me as I took hishand, I looked into a face that was as open as the day--a face thatpossessed all the passionate purity of youth, and my grip was sincere.One didn't ask for credentials in dealing with Will Holman.

  "I liked you from the start," he said, "but I wanted the opinion of thegirls. That's why I put Miss Barbara up to the game of firing questionsat you about that silly business on the wharf."

  "And did I pass muster?" I queried.

  "Sure you did!" he cried enthusiastically. "Miss Barbara Herndon saysthat you are true blue, and Miss Edith--"

  He stopped and looked at a patch of shadow near the galley. "Some one ishiding there," he whispered. "I saw him sneak into it."

  "Nonsense!" I growled. "The moon and something else are affecting yourbrain."

  "But I'm sure of it," he gasped.

  He sprang for the spot as he finished speaking, but he found nothing. Hereturned to my side shaking his head as if only half convinced about thematter.

  "Some one was listening to us talking, but whoever it was he managed toslip away while we were arguing the question."

  "Well, he didn't learn much," I said. "It was probably one of theislanders, and you've scared the life out of him now."

  Holman gripped my arm as I turned away, and he put a question in a tensewhisper.

  "What do you think of Leith?" he asked.

  Somehow the question did not surprise me, but I was not in a hurry togive my opinion of the, Professor's partner.

  "I have only spoken a few words to him," I countered cautiously.

  "But your impression?" stammered the youngster. "Don't you think--well,of course you haven't got the lay of things yet."

  I smiled at the guilelessness of the boy who was making a confidant ofa stranger. "What's wrong with Leith?" I asked. "What are you hintingat?"

  Holman glanced at the Tongan at the wheel, then at the shadow patch thathad disturbed his nerves a few moments before.

  "He's the devil!" he whispered.

  I felt inclined to laugh. Leith was certainly not a person that onewould take to the moment an introduction was given, but the manner inwhich the young fellow had imparted his opinion was amusing. But it wasevident that I had not guessed wrong when I divined trouble the moment Icame over the side of the yacht.

  Holman caught my coat with his left hand as we turned, and he spokeexcitedly.

  "Do you know what we're after?" he queried hoarsely.

  "It's a scientific expedition," I replied. "That's what you and CaptainNewmarch told me, and I have not questioned any one else."

  "But do you know the particular line we are after?"

  "No," I replied.

  "Well, we're after skulls. Leith has told the Professor about someancient boneyard that he knows of, and he's dragging old Herndon downthere."

  "I cannot see the crime now," I said. "I've gone after skulls beforeto-day. I brought a hundred of them up to Vavau for a German scientistlast year. He was taking them home to European museums to prove that thePolynesians of ten centuries back had bigger brains than the niggers ofto-day."

  "Yes, I know that," gurgled Holman; "but Leith--oh, damn it! I can't getyou to understand! He pulled the Professor into this deal, and the oldman is as green as grass. Herndon supplied the money and all that, andhe's that much of a silly old doodlebug that this fellow is buncoing himout of his good gold."

  "Yes," I muttered; "a
nd what do his daughters say?"

  "Say?" cried the youngster. "They can say nothing that will do any goodwhen they are talking to a madman. He sees Fame coming down the pike,and he's blind to all the tricks of that devil. It's a fact, Verslun!Leith is after the old man's cash--and after Edith Herndon as well."

  I stood and looked at the youngster. His boyish face was aflame withindignation, and any suspicions I had regarding his good intentions wereswept away immediately.

  "After Edith Herndon?" I repeated slowly.

  "Yes!" he gasped. "Oh, I knew you didn't like the big, sallow brute.Miss Barbara told me how you turned him down cold when he wanted you torepeat that yarn to satisfy his curiosity. He's a bad egg, do you hear?He's out for trouble, and we're going to run into it head on before wefinish the trip. Only for the girls I would have stayed ashore atLevuka."

  "And the captain?" I questioned.

  "We don't know about him," he snapped. "He's Leith's captain. I meanLeith put him in his job when the Professor