A thousand deaths by Jack London

the ocean? A month went by, and then, one morning, between two rain squalls, a

schooner sailed in through our passage and dropped anchor before the village.

The king and the headmen made big talk, and it was agreed that we would take

the schooner in two or three days. In the meantime, as it was our custom

always to appear friendly, we went off to her in canoes, bringing strings of

cocoanuts, fowls, and pigs, to trade. But when we were alongside, many canoes

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of us, the men on board began to shoot us with rifles, and as we paddled away

I saw the mate who had gone to sea in the little boat spring upon the rail and

dance and yell, Yah! Yah! Yah!’

“That afternoon they landed from the schooner in three small boats filled with

white men. They went right through the village, shooting every man they saw.

Also they shot the fowls and pigs. We who were not killed got away in canoes

and paddled out into the lagoon. Looking back, we could see all the houses on

fire. Late in the afternoon we saw many canoes coming from Nihi, which is the

village near the Nihi Passage in the northeast. They were all that were left,

and like us their village had been burned by a second schooner that had come

through Nihi Passage.

“We stood on in the darkness to the westward for Pauloo, but in the middle of

the night we heard women wailing and then we ran into a big fleet of canoes.

They were all that were left of Pauloo, which likewise was in ashes, for a

third schooner had come in through the Pauloo Passage. You see, that mate,

with his black boys, had not been drowned. He had made the Solomon Islands,

and there told his brothers of what we had done in Oolong. And all his

brothers had said they would come and punish us, and there they were in the

three schooners, and our three villages were wiped out.

“And what was there for us to do? In the morning the two schooners from

windward sailed down upon us in the middle of the lagoon. The trade wind was

blowing fresh, and by scores of canoes they ran us down. And the rifles never

ceased talking. We scattered like flying fish before the bonita, and there

were so many of us that we escaped by thousands, this way and that, to the

islands on the rim of the atoll.

“And thereafter the schooners hunted us up and down the lagoon. In the

nighttime we slipped past them. But the next day, or in two days or three

days, the schooners would be coming back, hunting us toward the other end of

the lagoon. And so it went. We no longer counted nor remembered our dead.

True, we were many and they were few. But what could we do? I was in one of

the twenty canoes filled with men who were not afraid to die. We attacked the

smallest schooner. They shot us down in heaps. They threw dynamite into the

canoes, and when the dynamite gave out, they threw hot water down upon us. And

the rifles never ceased talking. And those whose canoes were smashed were shot

as they swam away. And the mate danced up and down upon the cabin top and

yelled, “Yah! Yah! Yah!’

“Every house on every smallest island was burned. Not a pig nor a fowl was

left alive. Our wells were defiled with the bodies of the slain, or else

heaped high with coral rock. We were twenty-five thousand on Oolong before the

three schooners came. Today we are five thousand. After the schooners left, we

were but three thousand, as you shall see.

“At last the three schooners grew tired of chasing us back and forth. So they

went, the three of them, to Nihi, in the northeast. And then they drove us

steadily to the west. Their nine boats were in the water as well. They beat up

every island as they moved along. They drove us, drove us, drove us day by

day. And every night the three schooners and the nine boats made a chain of

watchfulness that stretched across the lagoon from rim to rim, so that we

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could not escape back.

“They could not drive us forever that way, for the lagoon was only so large,

and at last all of us that yet lived were driven upon the last sand bank to

the west. Beyond lay the open sea. There were ten thousand of us, and we

covered the sand bank from the lagoon edge to the pounding surf on the other

side. No one could lie down. There was no room. We stood hip to hip and

shoulder to shoulder. Two days they kept us there, and the mate would climb up

in the rigging to mock us and yell, Yah! Yah! Yah!’ till we were well sorry

that we had ever harmed him or his schooner a month before. We had no food,

and we stood on our feet two days and nights. The little babies died, and the

old and weak died, and the wounded died. And worst of all, we had no water to

quench our thirst, and for two days the sun beat down on us, and there was no

shade. Many men and women waded out into the ocean and were drowned, the surf

casting their bodies back on the beach. And there came a pest of flies. Some

men swam to the sides of the schooners, but they were shot to the last one.

And we that lived were very sorry that in our pride we tried to take the

schooner with the three masts that came to fish for beche-de-mer.

“On the morning of the third day came the skippers of the three schooners and

that mate in a small boat. They carried rifles, all of them, and revolvers,

and they made talk. It was only that they were weary of killing us that they

had stopped, they told us. And we told them that we were sorry, that never

again would we harm a white man, and in token of our submission we poured sand

upon our heads. And all the women and children set up a great wailing for

water, so that for some time no man could make himself heard. Then we were

told our punishment. We must fill the three schooners with copra and

beche-de-mer. And we agreed, for we wanted water, and our hearts were broken,

and we knew that we were children at fighting when we fought with white men

who fight like hell. And when all the talk was finished, the mate stood up and

mocked us, and yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!’ After that we paddled away in our

canoes and sought water.

“And for weeks we toiled at catching beche-de-mer and curing it, in gathering

the cocoanuts and turning them into copra. By day and night the smoke rose in

clouds from all the beaches of all the islands of Oolong as we paid the

penalty of our wrongdoing. For in those days of death it was burned clearly on

all our brains that it was very wrong to harm a white man.

“By and by, the schooners full of copra and beche-de-mer and our trees empty

of cocoanuts, the three skippers and that mate called us all together for a

big talk. And they said they were very glad that we had learned our lesson,

and we said for the ten-thousandth time that we were sorry and that we would

not do it again. Also, we poured sand upon our heads. Then the skippers said

that it was all very well, but just to show us that they did not forget us,

they would send a devil-devil that we would never forget and that we would

always remember any time we might feel like harming a white man. After that

the mate mocked us one more time and yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!’ Then six of our

men, whom we thought long dead, were put ashore from one of the schooners, and

the schooners hoisted their sails and ran out through the passage for the

Solomons.

“The six men who were put ashore were the first to catch the devil-devil the

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skippers sent back after us.”

“A great sickness came,” I interrupted, for I recognized the trick. The

schooner had had measles on board, and the six prisoners had been deliberately

exposed to it.

“Yes, a great sickness,” Oti went on. “It was a powerful devil-devil. The

oldest man had never heard of the like. Those of our priests that yet lived we

killed because they could not overcome the devil-devil. The sickness spread.

I have said that there were ten thousand of us that stood hip to hip and

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