A thousand deaths by Jack London

Fakarava. It must be six fathoms long with a porch all around–”

And Raoul listened again to the tale of the house. Several hours he spent in

the endeavor to hammer the house obsession out of Mapuhi’s mind; but Mapuhi’s

mother and wife, and Ngakura, Mapuhi’s daughter, bolstered him in his resolve

for the house. Through the open doorway, while he listened for the twentieth

time to the detailed description of the house that was wanted, Raoul saw his

schooner’s second boat draw up on the beach. The sailors rested on the oars,

advertising haste to be gone. The first mate of the Aorai sprang ashore,

exchanged a word with the one-armed native, then hurried toward Raoul. The day

grew suddenly dark, as a squall obscured the face of the sun. Across the

lagoon Raoul could see approaching the ominous line of the puff of wind.

“Captain Raffy says you’ve got to get to hell outa here,” was the mate’s

greeting. “If there’s any shell, we’ve got to run the risk of picking it up

later on–so he says. The barometer’s dropped to twenty-nine-seventy.”

The gust of wind struck the pandanus tree overhead and tore through the palms

beyond, flinging half a dozen ripe cocoanuts with heavy thuds to the ground.

Then came the rain out of the distance, advancing with the roar of a gale of

wind and causing the water of the lagoon to smoke in driven windrows. The

sharp rattle of the first drops was on the leaves when Raoul sprang to his

feet.

“A thousand Chili dollars, cash down, Mapuhi,” he said. “And two hundred Chili

dollars in trade.”

“I want a house–” the other began.

“Mapuhi!” Raoul yelled, in order to make himself heard. “You are a fool!”

He flung out of the house, and, side by side with the mate, fought his way

down the beach toward the boat. They could not see the boat. The tropic rain

sheeted about them so that they could see only the beach under their feet and

the spiteful little waves from the lagoon that snapped and bit at the sand. A

figure appeared through the deluge. It was Huru-Huru, the man with the one

arm.

“Did you get the pearl?” he yelled in Raoul’s ear.

“Mapuhi is a fool!” was the answering yell, and the next moment they were lost

to each other in the descending water.

Half an hour later, Huru-Huru, watching from the seaward side of the atoll,

saw the two boats hoisted in and the Aorai pointing her nose out to sea. And

near her, just come in from the sea on the wings of the squall, he saw another

SOUTH SEA TALES

6

schooner hove to and dropping a boat into the water. He knew her. It was the

OROHENA, owned by Toriki, the half-caste trader, who served as his own

supercargo and who doubtlessly was even then in the stern sheets of the boat.

Huru-Huru chuckled. He knew that Mapuhi owed Toriki for trade goods advanced

the year before.

The squall had passed. The hot sun was blazing down, and the lagoon was once

more a mirror. But the air was sticky like mucilage, and the weight of it

seemed to burden the lungs and make breathing difficult.

“Have you heard the news, Toriki?” Huru-Huru asked. “Mapuhi has found a pearl.

Never was there a pearl like it ever fished up in Hikueru, nor anywhere in the

Paumotus, nor anywhere in all the world. Mapuhi is a fool. Besides, he owes

you money. Remember that I told you first. Have you any tobacco?”

And to the grass shack of Mapuhi went Toriki. He was a masterful man, withal a

fairly stupid one. Carelessly he glanced at the wonderful pearl–glanced for a

moment only; and carelessly he dropped it into his pocket.

“You are lucky,” he said. “It is a nice pearl. I will give you credit on the

books.”

“I want a house,” Mapuhi began, in consternation. “It must be six fathoms–”

“Six fathoms your grandmother!” was the trader’s retort. “You want to pay up

your debts, that’s what you want. You owed me twelve hundred dollars Chili.

Very well; you owe them no longer. The amount is squared. Besides, I will give

you credit for two hundred Chili. If, when I get to Tahiti, the pearl sells

well, I will give you credit for another hundred–that will make three

hundred. But mind, only if the pearl sells well. I may even lose money on it.”

Mapuhi folded his arms in sorrow and sat with bowed head. He had been robbed

of his pearl. In place of the house, he had paid a debt. There was nothing to

show for the pearl.

“You are a fool,” said Tefara.

“You are a fool,” said Nauri, his mother. “Why did you let the pearl into his

hand?”

“What was I to do?” Mapuhi protested. “I owed him the money. He knew I had the

pearl. You heard him yourself ask to see it. I had not told him. He knew.

Somebody else told him. And I owed him the money.”

“Mapuhi is a fool,” mimicked Ngakura.

She was twelve years old and did not know any better. Mapuhi relieved his

feelings by sending her reeling from a box on the ear; while Tefara and Nauri

burst into tears and continued to upbraid him after the manner of women.

Huru-Huru, watching on the beach, saw a third schooner that he knew heave to

outside the entrance and drop a boat. It was the Hira, well named, for she was

owned by Levy, the German Jew, the greatest pearl buyer of them all, and, as

SOUTH SEA TALES

7

was well known, Hira was the Tahitian god of fishermen and thieves.

“Have you heard the news?” Huru-Huru asked, as Levy, a fat man with massive

asymmetrical features, stepped out upon the beach. “Mapuhi has found a pearl.

There was never a pearl like it in Hikueru, in all the Paumotus, in all the

world. Mapuhi is a fool. He has sold it to Toriki for fourteen hundred

Chili–I listened outside and heard. Toriki is likewise a fool. You can buy it

from him cheap. Remember that I told you first. Have you any tobacco?”

“Where is Toriki?”

“In the house of Captain Lynch, drinking absinthe. He has been there an hour.”

And while Levy and Toriki drank absinthe and chaffered over the pearl,

Huru-Huru listened and heard the stupendous price of twenty-five thousand

francs agreed upon.

It was at this time that both the OROHENA and the Hira, running in close to

the shore, began firing guns and signalling frantically. The three men stepped

outside in time to see the two schooners go hastily about and head off shore,

dropping mainsails and flying jibs on the run in the teeth of the squall that

heeled them far over on the whitened water. Then the rain blotted them out.

“They’ll be back after it’s over,” said Toriki. “We’d better be getting out of

here.”

“I reckon the glass has fallen some more,” said Captain Lynch.

He was a white-bearded sea-captain, too old for service, who had learned that

the only way to live on comfortable terms with his asthma was on Hikueru. He

went inside to look at the barometer.

“Great God!” they heard him exclaim, and rushed in to join him at staring at a

dial, which marked twenty-nine-twenty.

Again they came out, this time anxiously to consult sea and sky. The squall

had cleared away, but the sky remained overcast. The two schooners, under all

sail and joined by a third, could be seen making back. A veer in the wind

induced them to slack off sheets, and five minutes afterward a sudden veer

from the opposite quarter caught all three schooners aback, and those on shore

could see the boom-tackles being slacked away or cast off on the jump. The

sound of the surf was loud, hollow, and menacing, and a heavy swell was

setting in. A terrible sheet of lightning burst before their eyes,

illuminating the dark day, and the thunder rolled wildly about them.

Toriki and Levy broke into a run for their boats, the latter ambling along

like a panic-stricken hippopotamus. As their two boats swept out the entrance,

they passed the boat of the Aorai coming in. In the stern sheets, encouraging

the rowers, was Raoul. Unable to shake the vision of the pearl from his mind,

he was returning to accept Mapuhi’s price of a house.

He landed on the beach in the midst of a driving thunder squall that was so

dense that he collided with Huru-Huru before he saw him.

SOUTH SEA TALES

8

“Too late,” yelled Huru-Huru. “Mapuhi sold it to Toriki for fourteen hundred

Chili, and Toriki sold it to Levy for twenty-five thousand francs. And Levy

will sell it in France for a hundred thousand francs. Have you any tobacco?”

Raoul felt relieved. His troubles about the pearl were over. He need not worry