James laid his big, brown hand over Gregory’s and smiled. ‘You are a true friend: my father and protector. That’s how it shall be, then. And if the attack is to be for tonight the sooner we put Roboumo’s honesty to the test, the better.’
Again both girls were stricken with anxiety for their men. It was agreed that they would dine together on the yacht, then Manon should go ashore to the bure and there wait events. As soon as James and Gregory returned safely, she was to switch the light over the front entrance to the bure on and off three times, while Olinda sat on deck watching for this signal that all was well with them.
The two men then had themselves taken off to the wharf, walked up the hill and, without delay, put their preparations in train. While Aleamotu’a was getting the body-guard together, James and Gregory ate an early cold supper. By the time they had finished, darkness had fallen. When they came out of the bure, James addressed his men, explaining to them what it was hoped they would be able to accomplish during the coming night. All of them were eager to avenge their fallen comrades and, beating their chests, proclaimed their willingness again to follow their Ratu into danger.
As it was probable that Roboumo had spies in the town who would have set off post-haste to warn him if they saw an expedition being mounted from the harbour, it was decided to march inland by circuitous tracks, down to a fishing village only about a mile from the witch-doctor’s island, and use the boats of the natives there.
The trek took the best part of an hour. It was by then a little before nine o’clock, and the moon, halfway through its first quarter, stood at about thirty degrees above the horizon. By the light it gave, any sentinel on the island could not have failed to see a flotilla of boats creeping along the coast. But the island at its nearest point to the mainland was only a quarter of a mile off-shore; so it was decided that Aleamotu’a should march the body-guard along the beach to that point, then, if they were needed, they could within ten minutes wade across the shallow channel.
In consequence, when they reached the village, they took only two boats: a dinghy with an outboard engine, in which James set off steered by his coxswain, and a low-lying, one-man canoe for Gregory. For the first half-mile the dinghy towed the canoe, then dropped it off; so that, should there be a reception party expecting James to arrive, Gregory, paddling himself and arriving several minutes later, would stand the best chance of landing unobserved, while James was being escorted up to Roboumo’s bure.
This plan worked admirably. The light was insufficient for Gregory actually to see James land at that distance, but the sound of voices coming clearly across the water in the quiet of the night told him that some of Roboumo’s men had been waiting there to greet him. As the voices faded, Gregory altered course a little, then beached his canoe about two hundred yards from the place where the coxswain had landed James and was lying off until he returned.
The white coral beach extended inland for only some fifty feet. Darting across the open space at a crouching run, Gregory swiftly gained the shelter of a group of palms that cast dark shadows. Had his canoe been seen before he landed, it would have been taken for that of a native fisherman on his way further out to sea to spear fish attracted by the light of a torch, so his only real hazard had been that he might be spotted while crossing the beach. But no challenge had rung out. Considerably relieved, he now moved cautiously through the screen of palms and light undergrowth, working his way round until he came upon the path that led up to a group of bures.
The previous night the gendarme in Gregory’s boat had been killed; so he had quietly ‘naturalised’ the man’s Sten gun and two tear-gas grenades. Now, he switched the safety catch off the weapon, so that he could use it instantly, and proceeded with even greater caution up the path, keeping well into the shadowed side of it.
Two hundred yards brought him within sight of the nearest bure, which lay on the far side of a vegetable garden. Moving off the path, and stooping now, he crept stealthily from bush to bush until he could get a view of a good part of the village. It consisted, he guessed, of about thirty bures, with the tall roof of one, obviously Roboumo’s, rising high above the others.
Normally, at this hour the inhabitants would have been asleep, but, although he could not see anyone, the low murmur of voices and an occasional laugh told him that there were people about. Selecting a position that gave him the best available field of fire into the village entrance, he settled down to await either James’ emergence or sounds of trouble.
He had reasoned that, if Roboumo did intend treachery, it was most unlikely that James would be set upon when entering the village, as his coxswain might have heard sounds of a struggle and made off to give the alarm. It seemed certain that there would be a yaggona drinking ceremony and there was just the possibility that the witch-doctor might use that as a means of either poisoning or drugging James, taking it for granted that he would follow traditional custom and gulp down the whole contents of the cup. But James had a lifetime’s familiarity with the drink, so he would almost certainly detect a different flavour the moment the first drop touched his tongue, and when he and Gregory had discussed this possibility he had promised to be on his guard. Endeavouring to think as Roboumo might, Gregory had decided that the most likely way he would attempt to rid himself of James was by some apparent accident after James had left his bure—perhaps by one of his men pretending to trip and at the same time shooting James in the back—so that afterwards any suggestion that he had been murdered could be disclaimed.
On the other hand, Gregory acknowledged to himself that his fears for James quite probably had no foundation. Clearly Roboumo’s paramount interest was to retain the hold that he had over the many Tujoans who feared his evil powers; and, should James meet his death on the island, even apparently through an accident, that might lead to his people’s summoning up the courage to put an end to Roboumo and his following of bad men.
Making due allowance for the time the yaggona ceremony would take, and the usual prolonged palaver about irrelevant matters that normally preceded getting down to business when South Sea notabilities met, after half an hour Gregory became considerably more hopeful that James and Roboumo were really reaching agreement on a pact that, later that night, would bring about the death or capture of Lacost and his Colons.
Another ten minutes drifted by; then, suddenly, the silence of the night was broken by a loud shout.
Repressing the instinct to spring to his feet, Gregory remained crouching under cover, his Sten gun at the ready.
The shout was followed by a scream of rage and, immediately afterwards, by swift, violent banging on a drum. At these sounds, several men came running out from the small bures, some with arms and others without; so evidently the alarm had taken them by surprise.
A moment later, James appeared round the corner of a small bure that partially hid Roboumo’s lofty one. In great bounds he dashed towards the path that led down to the shore. Two men ran forward to intercept him, a third, some feet to his left, raised a rifle to shoot him down.
Gregory’s finger lightly squeezed the trigger of the Sten gun. Its bullets ploughed waist high into the man who held the rifle. With a single screech, he fell, riddled. His rifle flashed as it fell from his hands, but as he was hit he had jerked it up and the bullet passed high over James’ head.
At the rat-tat-tat of Gregory’s volley, it was as though the paralysing glance of an angry god had suddenly turned the villagers to stone. Their heads all turned in the direction of the shots, they remained for thirty seconds rigid and gaping.
James struck the nearer of the two men who had been about to intercept him a blow under the chin that sent him reeling, swerved past the other and ran on. Swiftly putting down his gun, Gregory pulled the pins out of his two tear-gas grenades, one after the other, then lobbed them into the centre of the little group of natives.
At that moment Roboumo appeared, brandishing a great war club and screaming with rage. By then James was well past Gregory and
round the bend of the path. Even as the witch-doctor shouted to his men to give chase, the fumes from the bombs were catching them in the eyes and throat. Snatching up his gun, Gregory followed James, running all-out for the shore.
Two minutes later they were wading out to the dinghy. The coxswain already had the outboard motor going. As they scrambled aboard and the boat turned towards the mainland, the moon gave light enough for them to see that Aleamotu’a and the body-guard, having heard the shots, were already half-way across the narrow channel. But their help was not now needed. James shouted to them that he was unharmed and that they should return to the beach.
As the two friends landed, the Tujoans crowded round their Ratu with excited cries, congratulating him on his escape and begging to be told what had occurred. When he had calmed them down he told them that he would make an important announcement about Roboumo the following morning. Then he ordered Aleamotu’a to march them back to the Royal bure, where they were to be given a good meal and as much kava as they liked to drink. He and Gregory then re-boarded the borrowed dinghy, as they could get home more quickly by water.
On their way round to the harbour, James gave Gregory an account of his meeting with Roboumo. It had opened with a solemn yaggona drinking, at which five of the witch-doctor’s principal retainers had been present. After the ceremony and when many compliments had been exchanged, the discussions had begun well. The five chief warriors had said that they and their men would have no fears about boarding the Pigalle, provided that the attack was made during the hours of darkness during which they would enjoy the full protection of the White Witch. With muffled paddles they would approach the Pigalle from her seaward side, while the Ratu and his body-guard would come round the island, also in canoes—as the noise of motor engines might alert the crew of the ship—and attack from the landward side. In order that the two attacks should occur simultaneously, it was agreed that they would both go in half an hour after the moon had set. This would be at an early hour in the morning, and in order to ensure synchronisation to within a few minutes, one man in each party would, every few moments, imitate the cry of a seagull. When they came within sound of one another both parties would paddle in with the utmost speed and board the Pigalle.
Having listened to these proposed tactics and fully approved them, Gregory asked, ‘Then what went wrong to cause Roboumo to quarrel with you afterwards? I am amazed, too, that you succeeded in breaking away from six of them and escaping as you did. You must have been born under a lucky star.’
James laughed. ‘I think I was, but I didn’t have to wage any desperate encounter or take on such heavy odds. After showing that he meant business, that his men were willing to fight and the details of the attack having been settled, Roboumo dismissed his five warriors, so that we could discuss in private the terms he asked for his assistance. I agreed to give no more demonstrations of my own powers as a Draunikau, and not to interfere with him, on one condition, namely that in future he should not threaten anyone with the death curse. After some argument he reluctantly agreed. Then I said to him:
‘ “It is known throughout the islands that your power is really vested in the far greater occult powers of the White Witch. Therefore I feel sure you will appreciate that I must also have her word that she will regard our agreement as binding upon her as well as upon yourself.”’
‘Ho! Ho!’ Gregory murmured. That was jolly shrewd of you, James. Go on. I can hardly wait to hear what happened, though I’ll make a guess. It turned out that he’s been fooling everyone and that there is really is no such person.’
‘You’re wrong. There is, and I saw her. But I had the hell of a job to persuade him to let me. He said that, since she has been in Tujoa, no man except himself has ever set eyes on her, and no woman other than his three senior wives, who attend upon her. I took a firm line and told him that unless she became a party to the deal it was off. Even as I made the threat, I regretted it, as I feared he’d call my bluff. But he didn’t. After sitting in silence for a few moment he stood up and said, “Very well. Wait here, Ratu, until I return for you.” Then he walked to the far end of his big bure which was completely screened off by heavy tapa-cloth curtains.
‘He went behind them and remained there for about three minutes; then he opened the curtains a few inches and beckoned to me to come through. You can imagine how intrigued and excited I was, but I managed to keep up an appearance of calmness and walked across the room quite slowly. I had all my work cut out, though, not to show my amazement when I saw what lay behind those curtains.
‘Apart from a few feet on the far side, the whole space was filled by a huge bamboo and wicker cage. It was about fourteen feet square by ten feet high, and furnished inside as a bed-sitting room. At one end there was a large, comfortable divan. The other held a round table, an armchair, a single elbow chair, a small desk, and one corner was screened off—no doubt concealing a washplace and privy.
‘The Witch was seated in the elbow chair facing the front of the cage. I had always believed her to be a fair-skinned Polynesian, or a native of the islands who painted herself white. But she was neither. She was a white woman, all right. For her age—I put her down to be about sixty—she was still remarkably good-looking. Her face was very pale and slightly wrinkled; her hair was dead white, very long, parted in the centre and falling straight on either side of her face to her shoulders, hiding them and the upper part of a rich native dress that she was wearing. But her eyes, which were blue, were quite blank; and, although she was looking straight at me, she did not seem to be aware of me.
‘Roboumo spoke to her—in his own dialect of course, but I understood enough of it to know that he was honestly giving her particulars of our agreement. When he had finished there was a moment’s silence, then she replied to him, giving her consent, but in such a halting, toneless voice that I felt certain that when he had first left me to go behind the curtain he had hypnotised her.
‘Turning to me, he asked, “Now are you satisfied?” Thinking that nothing further could be got out of her, I replied that I was. Roboumo then turned his back on the Witch and parted the curtains so that I could walk through to the main part of the bure. Just as I reached the curtains, I glanced over my shoulder to take a last look at her. Instantly I noticed a change in her expression. Her face was working. Clearly she was coming out of her trance and struggling to speak. Then, in a hoarse whisper, her voice came:
‘ “Aidez-moi. Je suis prisonnière”.’
‘God Almighty!’ Gregory exclaimed. This is terrific. What happened then?’
‘Naturally, I stepped back towards her, intending to question her in order to learn who she was, where she had come from and so on. But Roboumo, too, had caught her whisper. Swinging round he shouted at her, “Sleep! Sleep!” and made some swift passes at her with his outstretched hands. Her eyelids drooped until her eyes had closed and, her muscles relaxing, she sank back in the elbow chair. I turned on Roboumo and cried:
‘ “You are a swindler! A swindler! This woman has no power of her own. You have just used her as a means of terrifying the superstitious among my people.”
‘Pushing him aside, I advanced to the cage and tried to tear apart the bamboo bars, so that I could free her. They were thick and strong, so that I could do no more than bend them. While I was still straining every muscle to break into the cage, her head began to roll upon her shoulders. Again she partially emerged from the trance into which she had been thrown. Her eyes opened, then dilated. Suddenly her mouth gaped and she cried:
‘“Achtung !”
‘I don’t know much German, but enough to understand that to be a cry of warning. Not an instant too soon I swung round and jerked my head aside. Had I not, Roboumo would have bashed in my skull with a big war club that he had snatched from the wall. I then knew that, as I had discovered the White Witch to be no better than a ventriloquist’s doll that he was making use of, he meant to kill me rather than give me any chance to disclose his secret.
&
nbsp; ‘It was then, knowing that you were not far away, that I gave my cry for help.
‘I made a grab at him, but he eluded me. Before I had a chance to attempt to seize him again he had darted through the curtains. Another moment, and before I could stop him he had snatched up a long stick with a big, round head and was beating wildly with it on a drum.
‘I needed no telling that he was summoning his warriors and that if I failed to escape within a matter of minutes I would pay for it with my life.
‘As I raced past Roboumo I struck him a savage blow low in the back, somewhere in the region of the kidneys. He let out an ear-splitting screech, dropped the great drum stick and fell to the floor.
‘Next moment I was out of his bure and running hell for leather through the village to save myself. I need not recount what happened after that. You, dear friend, saved me from being killed or captured and we reached this boat together.’
For a few moments Gregory was silent; then he said, ‘What has happened tonight has created an entirely new situation. That, through entirely unforeseen circumstances, you failed to secure the help of Roboumo’s warriors for an attack on the Pigalle is most unfortunate. But a new factor has emerged that just might turn the tide in our favour. If the White Witch is Roboumo’s prisoner, and is being used by him under hypnotism as a helpless stooge, we now have a chance to prove him a fraud and discredit him with his followers. I can’t yet see how this can be used against Lacost; but I am sure there is a way that it can, if only we can think of it.’
By then the dinghy was nearing the anchorage outside the harbour at which the Boa Viagem lay. James had the little boat go alongside, so that he could board the yacht, and let Olinda know that he had returned safely from his visit to Roboumo’s island. As he went up the ladder to the deck of the yacht, Gregory called after him:
The White Witch of the South Seas Page 36
