II
It was in the most unknown perhaps of such spots, a small bay on thecoast of New Guinea, that young Pata Hassim, the nephew of one of thegreatest chiefs of Wajo, met Lingard for the first time.
He was a trader after the Wajo manner, and in a stout sea-going prauarmed with two guns and manned by young men who were related to hisfamily by blood or dependence, had come in there to buy some birdsof paradise skins for the old Sultan of Ternate; a risky expeditionundertaken not in the way of business but as a matter of courtesy towardthe aged Sultan who had entertained him sumptuously in that dismal brickpalace at Ternate for a month or more.
While lying off the village, very much on his guard, waiting for theskins and negotiating with the treacherous coast-savages who are thego-betweens in that trade, Hassim saw one morning Lingard's brig cometo an anchor in the bay, and shortly afterward observed a white man ofgreat stature with a beard that shone like gold, land from a boat andstroll on unarmed, though followed by four Malays of the brig's crew,toward the native village.
Hassim was struck with wonder and amazement at the cool recklessness ofsuch a proceeding; and, after; in true Malay fashion, discussing withhis people for an hour or so the urgency of the case, he also landed,but well escorted and armed, with the intention of going to see whatwould happen.
The affair really was very simple, "such as"--Lingard would say--"suchas might have happened to anybody." He went ashore with the intentionto look for some stream where he could conveniently replenish his watercasks, this being really the motive which had induced him to enter thebay.
While, with his men close by and surrounded by a mop-headed, sootycrowd, he was showing a few cotton handkerchiefs, and trying to explainby signs the object of his landing, a spear, lunged from behind, grazedhis neck. Probably the Papuan wanted only to ascertain whether such acreature could be killed or hurt, and most likely firmly believed thatit could not; but one of Lingard's seamen at once retaliated by strikingat the experimenting savage with his parang--three such choppers broughtfor the purpose of clearing the bush, if necessary, being all theweapons the party from the brig possessed.
A deadly tumult ensued with such suddenness that Lingard, turning roundswiftly, saw his defender, already speared in three places, fall forwardat his feet. Wasub, who was there, and afterward told the story once aweek on an average, used to horrify his hearers by showing how the manblinked his eyes quickly before he fell. Lingard was unarmed. To theend of his life he remained incorrigibly reckless in that respect,explaining that he was "much too quick tempered to carry firearms on thechance of a row. And if put to it," he argued, "I can make shift to killa man with my fist anyhow; and then--don't ye see--you know whatyou're doing and are not so apt to start a trouble from sheer temper orfunk--see?"
In this case he did his best to kill a man with a blow from the shoulderand catching up another by the middle flung him at the naked, wildcrowd. "He hurled men about as the wind hurls broken boughs. He made abroad way through our enemies!" related Wasub in his jerky voice. It ismore probable that Lingard's quick movements and the amazing aspect ofsuch a strange being caused the warriors to fall back before his rush.
Taking instant advantage of their surprise and fear, Lingard, followedby his men, dashed along the kind of ruinous jetty leading to thevillage which was erected as usual over the water. They darted into oneof the miserable huts built of rotten mats and bits of decayed canoes,and in this shelter showing daylight through all its sides, theyhad time to draw breath and realize that their position was not muchimproved.
The women and children screaming had cleared out into the bush, whileat the shore end of the jetty the warriors capered and yelled, preparingfor a general attack. Lingard noticed with mortification that hisboat-keeper apparently had lost his head, for, instead of swimming offto the ship to give the alarm, as he was perfectly able to do, theman actually struck out for a small rock a hundred yards away and wasfrantically trying to climb up its perpendicular side. The tide beingout, to jump into the horrible mud under the houses would have beenalmost certain death. Nothing remained therefore--since the miserabledwelling would not have withstood a vigorous kick, let alone asiege--but to rush back on shore and regain possession of the boat. Tothis Lingard made up his mind quickly and, arming himself with a crookedstick he found under his hand, sallied forth at the head of his threemen. As he bounded along, far in advance, he had just time to perceiveclearly the desperate nature of the undertaking, when he heard two shotsfired to his right. The solid mass of black bodies and frizzly heads infront of him wavered and broke up. They did not run away, however.
Lingard pursued his course, but now with that thrill of exultation whicheven a faint prospect of success inspires in a sanguine man. He heard ashout of many voices far off, then there was another report of a shot,and a musket ball fired at long range spurted a tiny jet of sand betweenhim and his wild enemies. His next bound would have carried him intotheir midst had they awaited his onset, but his uplifted arm foundnothing to strike. Black backs were leaping high or gliding horizontallythrough the grass toward the edge of the bush.
He flung his stick at the nearest pair of black shoulders and stoppedshort. The tall grasses swayed themselves into a rest, a chorus of yellsand piercing shrieks died out in a dismal howl, and all at once thewooded shores and the blue bay seemed to fall under the spell of aluminous stillness. The change was as startling as the awakening from adream. The sudden silence struck Lingard as amazing.
He broke it by lifting his voice in a stentorian shout, which arrestedthe pursuit of his men. They retired reluctantly, glaring back angrilyat the wall of a jungle where not a single leaf stirred. The strangers,whose opportune appearance had decided the issue of that adventure, didnot attempt to join in the pursuit but halted in a compact body on theground lately occupied by the savages.
Lingard and the young leader of the Wajo traders met in the splendidlight of noonday, and amidst the attentive silence of their followers,on the very spot where the Malay seaman had lost his life. Lingard,striding up from one side, thrust out his open palm; Hassim responded atonce to the frank gesture and they exchanged their first hand-clasp overthe prostrate body, as if fate had already exacted the price of a deathfor the most ominous of her gifts--the gift of friendship that sometimescontains the whole good or evil of a life.
"I'll never forget this day," cried Lingard in a hearty tone; and theother smiled quietly.
Then after a short pause--"Will you burn the village for vengeance?"asked the Malay with a quick glance down at the dead Lascar who, on hisface and with stretched arms, seemed to cling desperately to that earthof which he had known so little.
Lingard hesitated.
"No," he said, at last. "It would do good to no one."
"True," said Hassim, gently, "but was this man your debtor--a slave?"
"Slave?" cried Lingard. "This is an English brig. Slave? No. A free manlike myself."
"Hai. He is indeed free now," muttered the Malay with another glancedownward. "But who will pay the bereaved for his life?"
"If there is anywhere a woman or child belonging to him, I--my serangwould know--I shall seek them out," cried Lingard, remorsefully.
"You speak like a chief," said Hassim, "only our great men do not goto battle with naked hands. O you white men! O the valour of you whitemen!"
"It was folly, pure folly," protested Lingard, "and this poor fellow haspaid for it."
"He could not avoid his destiny," murmured the Malay. "It is in my mindmy trading is finished now in this place," he added, cheerfully.
Lingard expressed his regret.
"It is no matter, it is no matter," assured the other courteously, andafter Lingard had given a pressing invitation for Hassim and his twocompanions of high rank to visit the brig, the two parties separated.
The evening was calm when the Malay craft left its berth near the shoreand was rowed slowly across the bay to Lingard's anchorage. The end of astout line was thrown on board, and that
night the white man's brig andthe brown man's prau swung together to the same anchor.
The sun setting to seaward shot its last rays between the headlands,when the body of the killed Lascar, wrapped up decently in a whitesheet, according to Mohammedan usage, was lowered gently below thestill waters of the bay upon which his curious glances, only a fewhours before, had rested for the first time. At the moment the dead man,released from slip-ropes, disappeared without a ripple before the eyesof his shipmates, the bright flash and the heavy report of the brig'sbow gun were succeeded by the muttering echoes of the encircling shoresand by the loud cries of sea birds that, wheeling in clouds, seemedto scream after the departing seaman a wild and eternal good-bye. Themaster of the brig, making his way aft with hanging head, was followedby low murmurs of pleased surprise from his crew as well as from thestrangers who crowded the main deck. In such acts performed simply, fromconviction, what may be called the romantic side of the man's naturecame out; that responsive sensitiveness to the shadowy appeals made bylife and death, which is the groundwork of a chivalrous character.
Lingard entertained his three visitors far into the night. A sheep fromthe brig's sea stock was given to the men of the prau, while in thecabin, Hassim and his two friends, sitting in a row on the stern settee,looked very splendid with costly metals and flawed jewels. The talkconducted with hearty friendship on Lingard's part, and on the part ofthe Malays with the well-bred air of discreet courtesy, which is naturalto the better class of that people, touched upon many subjects and, inthe end, drifted to politics.
"It is in my mind that you are a powerful man in your own country," saidHassim, with a circular glance at the cuddy.
"My country is upon a far-away sea where the light breezes are as strongas the winds of the rainy weather here," said Lingard; and there werelow exclamations of wonder. "I left it very young, and I don't knowabout my power there where great men alone are as numerous as the poorpeople in all your islands, Tuan Hassim. But here," he continued, "here,which is also my country--being an English craft and worthy of it,too--I am powerful enough. In fact, I am Rajah here. This bit of mycountry is all my own."
The visitors were impressed, exchanged meaning glances, nodded at eachother.
"Good, good," said Hassim at last, with a smile. "You carry your countryand your power with you over the sea. A Rajah upon the sea. Good!"
Lingard laughed thunderously while the others looked amused.
"Your country is very powerful--we know," began again Hassim after apause, "but is it stronger than the country of the Dutch who steal ourland?"
"Stronger?" cried Lingard. He opened a broad palm. "Stronger? Wecould take them in our hand like this--" and he closed his fingerstriumphantly.
"And do you make them pay tribute for their land?" enquired Hassim witheagerness.
"No," answered Lingard in a sobered tone; "this, Tuan Hassim, you see,is not the custom of white men. We could, of course--but it is not thecustom."
"Is it not?" said the other with a sceptical smile. "They are strongerthan we are and they want tribute from us. And sometimes they getit--even from Wajo where every man is free and wears a kris."
There was a period of dead silence while Lingard looked thoughtful andthe Malays gazed stonily at nothing.
"But we burn our powder amongst ourselves," went on Hassim, gently, "andblunt our weapons upon one another."
He sighed, paused, and then changing to an easy tone began to urgeLingard to visit Wajo "for trade and to see friends," he said, layinghis hand on his breast and inclining his body slightly.
"Aye. To trade with friends," cried Lingard with a laugh, "for such aship"--he waved his arm--"for such a vessel as this is like a householdwhere there are many behind the curtain. It is as costly as a wife andchildren."
The guests rose and took their leave.
"You fired three shots for me, Panglima Hassim," said Lingard,seriously, "and I have had three barrels of powder put on board yourprau; one for each shot. But we are not quits."
The Malay's eyes glittered with pleasure.
"This is indeed a friend's gift. Come to see me in my country!"
"I promise," said Lingard, "to see you--some day."
The calm surface of the bay reflected the glorious night sky, and thebrig with the prau riding astern seemed to be suspended amongst thestars in a peace that was almost unearthly in the perfection of itsunstirring silence. The last hand-shakes were exchanged on deck, and theMalays went aboard their own craft. Next morning, when a breeze sprangup soon after sunrise, the brig and the prau left the bay together. Whenclear of the land Lingard made all sail and sheered alongside to saygood-bye before parting company--the brig, of course, sailing three feetto the prau's one. Hassim stood on the high deck aft.
"Prosperous road," hailed Lingard.
"Remember the promise!" shouted the other. "And come soon!" he went on,raising his voice as the brig forged past. "Come soon--lest what perhapsis written should come to pass!"
The brig shot ahead.
"What?" yelled Lingard in a puzzled tone, "what's written?"
He listened. And floating over the water came faintly the words:
"No one knows!"
The Rescue: A Romance of the Shallows Page 7
