The Pendulum of the Skull by J

by Monte Herridge

  quarters.

  drums beaten by naked cannibals, dancing

  A tall native came out on the little

  about their fires and totem images. He glanced porch and spoke to her.

  at the girl, who was looking at him.

  “Massa

  Timi

  mate. ” he said. “Watto-

  “It doesn’t mean anything,” she said.

  soni, he speak along of you?”

  “They always start them going at sun-down,

  “I saw him, Tiri,” she said.

  and keep it up until after midnight. Whenever

  “I hear shot,” he replied looking

  they have nothing to do, the natives dance.

  suspiciously at Bud. “Some trouble walk

  They tell me they do much the same thing in

  along of you?”

  New York,” she added, with an attempt at

  “No trouble. Tiri, you speak along

  making light of the matter.

  those boys go make one grave—all same in

  But her face was wan, and Bud felt

  garden. Now.”

  suddenly the strain of the life she must have

  “I suppose I seem callous to you,” she

  led—a drunken uncle for her only companion,

  said, “but my uncle has been ill for a long

  the cannibal haunted bush, the treacherous time. He was only my father’s half brother, plantation hands, the management of the place

  and he was not much of a man.”

  in her care. And now this last catastrophe that She was plainly holding on to her self

  he had blunderingly brought about.

  control, and Bud said nothing, wondering at

  He braced himself to play the man. At

  the pluck of her. She left him in the front room least, Watterson was gone—though she had

  with a lighted lamp, while she went in to

  been the main factor in that. There was no

  where the dead man lay. She came out again

  sight of him. His boat had disappeared, the

  in a few minutes, her face composed, though

  girl said. She had been quite capable of taking she had been crying.

  Short Stories

  10

  “We shall have to bury him soon,” she

  him. Watterson took the schooner, picking up

  said simply. “But you’ve got to eat.”

  shell and beche de mer about the group

  “I’ll wait,” said Bud. His hunger had

  besides copra. Uncle said father wished it that left him for the time. He followed her back

  way. I do not think he trusted Watterson. I

  into the room, and saw the body lying on a

  never liked him. I know he did what he

  bed with the mosquito curtain drawn aside. It

  wanted with my uncle. No doubt he cheated

  was a weak face with a straggling beard that

  us. There has never been an accounting, I

  did not conceal the inefficient chin, and marks believe. Not for a year.

  of dissipation showed on it.

  “I suppose it all seems shiftless to you.

  The schooner was still there when they

  Helpless. But I am a girl and legal affairs for a returned from the garden, the grisly task woman under twenty-one are not made easy in completed.

  this part of the world. My uncle was

  “They can’t get outside until the tide

  practically my guardian.”

  serves, she said. “I don’t think he’ll bother us.

  Bud nodded. His face had hardened,

  He’s satisfied with his bargain. And he’ll but it was not the less attractive to the girl who come back. He knows I can’t stay here.” She

  eyed him frankly. His eyes lost their

  started putting a meal on the table, making hot boyishness, and gained in determination.

  tea, opening tins, producing bread and fruit.

  Lines showed from nose angles to mouth

  “We’ll eat—we’ve got to eat,” she corners; his scorched features became said. “You must be starved.”

  endowed with a stamp of efficiency, and his

  She sipped some tea, broke some food,

  voice took on character, responsibility. There and Bud, after the first morsels, found himself was little of the deserting fo’c’sle hand in the ravenous. Food was necessary for the plan

  man who talked quietly and seriously to her.

  slowly forming in his mind.

  “The schooner is really your share,

  “You mean you stand to lose your

  then?” he said. “The station and the goods

  share of everything?” he asked.

  here Watterson’s?”

  “Watterson was in partnership with my

  “Yes. Practically that. Wait a

  father. My name is Thelma Selwyn. My father

  moment.”

  owned the schooner. Watterson put in the

  She went out on the little porch, and

  money for the trading goods. We had a place

  came back to the open door.

  on Muriti. And we established this station for

  “They are all aboard,” she said. “Tiri is

  collecting copra. Afterward we started a watching. He is foreman here, and I can really plantation here, as well as at Muriti. Watterson depend upon him. He is fond of me, and

  was in charge. I used to sail with my father”—

  grateful for some things I have done for him.

  her voice broke, recovered—“until he died.

  They cannot get out of the lagoon for an hour

  There was a hurricane at Muriti. I was at Suva yet. There is one thing bothers me. Tiri says

  waiting for father to come back for me. I was

  no one has paid the hands, and their annual

  staying with friends. My uncle—I always wages are due. Watterson knows I cannot do it called him that—came instead. Father had without money from the copra he has aboard been killed trying to rescue some of our or the ship’s money he must have with him.

  people.

  He will claim to have settled with my uncle,

  “Uncle Tom was no sailor. He hated

  of course.”

  the sea. I could have handled the schooner

  “We’ll handle all that, I think,” said

  alone, but he would not hear of it. So he took Bud. “We’ll have to work quick, though.

  over the station here, and brought me with

  We’ve got an hour, you say. That’s what I

  The Pendulum of the Skull

  11

  wanted to know. How about the crew on the

  “With the schooner you could make

  schooner. How many?”

  out trading, couldn’t you?”

  “I’ll call Tiri in. He knows.”

  “I think so. If I got credit for trade

  The native entered, hunkering down on

  goods. I know a good many of the islanders.

  the floor, accepting Bud with a nod, his face

  I’d like to try it.”

  with its flat nose, full lips and retreating

  Bud almost said, “So would I,” but he

  forehead grave, and his eyes, dark and wasn’t ready for that yet.

  lustrous, fixed on the girl’s face. She spoke to

  “All right,” he said instead. “How’s

  him in native dialect, and he replied promptly.

  Tiri as a fighting man?”

  “There are eight boys in the crew,” she

  “What are you planning?”

  translated, “a half-caste cook who is part

  “You’ve got a small boat. I’m going

  Chinese, Purdy and Watterson.”

  off in it—with Tiri, if he’s game—and I’m


  “Any of the boys the ones you knew—

  going to persuade Watterson to take over the

  who sailed with your father and you?”

  station for the schooner. I’ve muddied things

  “Five of them, Tiri says.”

  for you so far. I think I can straighten them

  “Know you—and like you?”

  out. I’m a fair shot myself, and Watterson is

  “I think so. They know Tiri.”

  afraid of a gun unless he’s got the drop on the

  “We’ll take a gamble on them? How

  other man—or girl. I’m going to get the drop

  about Purdy?”

  on him. What’s the crew likely to be doing?”

  “He’s Watterson’s mate, a Scotch

  Her eyes were sparkling now,

  Australian, drunk whenever Watterson lets approving him.

  him be. I was mate for my father. Watterson

  “They’ll be for’ard, probably below

  hired Purdy.”

  for a while yet, playing with dice.”

  “You could sail the schooner out of the

  “Shooting craps, eh? Civilized that far.

  lagoon?”

  How about Tiri?”

  The girl’s eyes lightened as she nodded at

  “He’ll come with us.” Again she spoke

  him. Tiri listened intently with his head rapidly to Tiri who rose to his feet and cocked to one side, striving to follow the

  pounded himself on the chest.

  English.

  “That Wattasoni no good,” he said.

  “As long as the partnership is going to

  “That ehipe belong along Missy. We take.”

  split, that’s what you’d rather have, isn’t it?

  “Fine. You’ll have to come along,” he

  Your original share—the schooner?”

  said to the girl. “Gum things up to leave you

  “Oh,

  yes.”

  on shore. If we make the deal, there’s no use

  “This end of it no use to you—outside

  delaying a start. Might complicate things. I

  of the stores—without capital or without a

  hope to send Watterson ashore with Purdy and

  boat?”

  whoever insists on going with him.”

  “No use without capital. The hands

  “Of course I’m coming,” she told him.

  have to be paid. If they were I could sell the

  “Purdy and Watterson will be in the cabin.

  copra to other traders who call here at times.

  The native boys may not make any trouble, if

  But——”

  we can handle Watterson and the mate.”

  “I understand. This is no job for a girl.

  “We’ll handle them. Can you get some

  I wouldn’t be stuck on it myself.” The things together quickly? You said you had a swinging skull was in his mind’s eye, and

  gun, and there’s Watterson’s. How about

  every now and then, when he listened for it, he Tiri?”

  could hear the beat of the drums.

  “Me? I got knife. I got club. No

  Short Stories

  12

  trouble along of me.”

  can send one.”

  “Native boys on board armed?”

  “We won’t worry too much about

  “They’ll have knives. But Tiri can Watterson,” said Bud. “Are we set? Let’s go.”

  handle them if they’re below. They can only

  They went down the beach, and along

  come up one at a time.”

  the wharf to where the boat lay. There seemed

  “Good, that leaves the cook. He’ll be

  nothing incongruous to Bud in the adventure

  in his galley?”

  they were launching—the girl he had met,

  “If we have luck.”

  himself delivered from the fo’c’sle of the

  “Bully.” Bud stood up, and so did the

  Flying Cloud, and the loin-clad native. It girl. “Thelma,” he said, “you’re a wonder. I

  seemed only the fitting close of the day that

  didn’t know there were any girls like you.

  had crammed with happenings. It accorded

  You’re taking me on trust, you know.”

  with the sound of the drums, coming down

  “I know,” she said gravely.

  from the dark purple heights, the waving bush,

  “You can,” said Bud and held out his

  the breeze, spicy with strange scents, that was hand.

  blowing off the land, the phosphorescent curl

  She gave him hers. “I trust you,” she

  of breakers on the reef, the brilliant stars

  said. “I know you’re not a common sailor. I

  duplicated in the calm lagoon across which

  don’t know what I should have done without

  they drifted. With Tiri using a stern oar as

  you. I’ll be back in a few minutes. That gun is paddle and rudder both, they moved slowly

  the same calibre as mine. Tiri, you go get

  down on the schooner, which showed with

  ready. You savvy what we go along to fix?”

  lights in the after ports and glowing from the

  “Plenty I savvy. I go.”

  skylight. A phonograph was grinding

  She came back with a strapped valise,

  raucously aboard.

  a gun belted on, her eyes shining. She handed

  Tiri was crooning very softly to

  a box half full of cartridges to Bud, who filled himself as he plied the oar—hardly above his

  the cylinder of Watterson’s Colt, and slipped

  breath—yet there was something bloodthirsty,

  the rest into his pockets. Tiri appeared with

  a very lust of killing, in the short phrases that the bone haft of a knife showing above his

  he hummed, as he carefully handled the

  loincloth, and bearing a hardwood club that

  turning blade, its little wisps of seafire

  ended in a knob with a beak of shell or bone

  streaking away from it. They were now close

  projecting from it. This was a formidable up to the schooner, low in the water from its weapon which he swung with easy zest, his

  copra cargo, the freeboard easy to negotiate.

  eyes glittering, transformed into the warrior.

  Tiri brought them up beneath the overhanging

  He had smeared some white stuff on his face

  stern, round to the starboard quarter. Then he and was plainly happy at the role he was to

  stood up, club in hand.

  play.

  “I climb um port side,” he said in a

  “Those kanaka boy,” he said, “talk too

  noiseless, but audible whisper. “You go

  much along their pay. I tell um we plenty fix.

  sta’board. Suppose some one he look along of

  Tell um bimeby Wattasoni he come along

  you, I fix um.”

  shore—tomorrow he pay. They believe which

  It was good strategy. Tiri was a

  way along of me I speak.”

  warrior first, and a foreman afterward.

  “Watterson will pay them,” said the

  “You no make fix um for dead,”

  girl, “if he has the money aboard. I suppose he warned the girl.

  has. If we take the schooner he’ll have to stay Tiri grunted, let his body fall away in a

  here, and run things until a ship calls. Or we curve, and dissolved into the water without

  The Pendulum of the Skull

  13

  splash, hardly rippling it. They gave him a

  “It’s all right for you, Watty, the way

>   moment or two, though time was getting a

  ye plan it. But what do I get out o’ it? I’m

  scarce and precious commodity. The tide was

  your catspaw, it seems. I put the lad out o’ the slack, and any minute Watterson or Purdy,

  way while you get the lassie, an’ a’ the gear.

  both probably, would turn out the crew, loosen Suppose I kill the lad? What’s it worth to ye, gaskets and hoist the anchor, which had Watty?”

  already been hauled short. But the phonograph

  “I don’t want him killed, I told you.

  still sent out its sugary words, and they could Not till I’m through with him. You’re half

  hear the voices of the two men, the clink of a seas over now, Purdy, we’ll talk it over again glass and bottle, could even get the reek of

  later. Tide’s close to the turn. We’ll go out

  somebody’s pipe as they crouched, their now, and we’ll come back tomorrow night.

  pulses beating fast, their blood tinkling. Man Make a landing in Turtle Bay, and go ashore.

  and woman—not much more than boy and

  You’ll get enough out of it to, keep you drunk girl—they were committed to the same for a month. We’ll go into details tomorrow.

  adventure, their adventure, running the risks

  Time to go on deck.”

  together.

  “There’s just two drinks left in the

  She touched Bud on the arm. They

  bottle, Watty. Lemme help ye to a dram.

  rose, Bud with the painter of the shore dinghy We’ll drink standin’ an’ bottoms-up to