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Adventure by Jack London

as he was half-way to his feet, while the five-score blacks surged

forward for the killing. Her revolver was out, and Carin-Jama let

go his grip, reeling backward with a bullet in his shoulder. In

that fleeting instant of action she had thought to shoot him in the

arm, which, at that short distance, might reasonably have been

achieved. But the wave of savages leaping forward had changed her

shot to the shoulder. It was a moment when not the slightest

chance could be taken.

The instant his throat was released, Sheldon struck out with his

fist, and Carin-Jama joined his brother on the ground. The mutiny

was quelled, and five minutes more saw the brothers being carried

to the hospital, and the mutineers, marshalled by the gang-bosses,

on the way to the fields.

When Sheldon came up on the veranda, he found Joan collapsed on the

steamer-chair and in tears. The sight unnerved him as the row just

over could not possibly have done. A woman in tears was to him an

embarrassing situation; and when that woman was Joan Lackland, from

whom he had grown to expect anything unexpected, he was really

frightened. He glanced down at her helplessly, and moistened his

lips.

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37

“I want to thank you,” he began. “There isn’t a doubt but what you

saved my life, and I must say–”

She abruptly removed her hands, showing a wrathful and tear-stained

face.

“You brute! You coward!” she cried. “You have made me shoot a

man, and I never shot a man in my life before.”

“It’s only a flesh-wound, and he isn’t going to die,” Sheldon

managed to interpolate.

“What of that? I shot him just the same. There was no need for

you to jump down there that way. It was brutal and cowardly.”

“Oh, now I say–” he began soothingly.

“Go away. Don’t you see I hate you! hate you! Oh, won’t you go

away!”

Sheldon was white with anger.

“Then why in the name of common sense did you shoot?” he demanded.

“Be-be-because you were a white man,” she sobbed. “And Dad would

never have left any white man in the lurch. But it was your fault.

You had no right to get yourself in such a position. Besides, it

wasn’t necessary.”

“I am afraid I don’t understand,” he said shortly, turning away.

“We will talk it over later on.”

“Look how I get on with the boys,” she said, while he paused in the

doorway, stiffly polite, to listen. “There’s those two sick boys I

am nursing. They will do anything for me when they get well, and I

won’t have to keep them in fear of their life all the time. It is

not necessary, I tell you, all this harshness and brutality. What

if they are cannibals? They are human beings, just like you and

me, and they are amenable to reason. That is what distinguishes

all of us from the lower animals.”

He nodded and went out.

“I suppose I’ve been unforgivably foolish,” was her greeting, when

he returned several hours later from a round of the plantation.

“I’ve been to the hospital, and the man is getting along all right.

It is not a serious hurt.”

Sheldon felt unaccountably pleased and happy at the changed aspect

of her mood.

“You see, you don’t understand the situation,” he began. “In the

first place, the blacks have to be ruled sternly. Kindness is all

very well, but you can’t rule them by kindness only. I accept all

that you say about the Hawaiians and the Tahitians. You say that

they can be handled that way, and I believe you. I have had no

experience with them. But you have had no experience with the

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38

blacks, and I ask you to believe me. They are different from your

natives. You are used to Polynesians. These boys are Melanesians.

They’re blacks. They’re niggers–look at their kinky hair. And

they’re a whole lot lower than the African niggers. Really, you

know, there is a vast difference.”

“They possess no gratitude, no sympathy, no kindliness. If you are

kind to them, they think you are a fool. If you are gentle with

them they think you are afraid. And when they think you are

afraid, watch out, for they will get you. Just to show you, let me

state the one invariable process in a black man’s brain when, on

his native heath, he encounters a stranger. His first thought is

one of fear. Will the stranger kill him? His next thought, seeing

that he is not killed, is: Can he kill the stranger? There was

Packard, a Colonial trader, some twelve miles down the coast. He

boasted that he ruled by kindness and never struck a blow. The

result was that he did not rule at all. He used to come down in

his whale-boat to visit Hughie and me. When his boat’s crew

decided to go home, he had to cut his visit short to accompany

them. I remember one Sunday afternoon when Packard had accepted

our invitation to stop to dinner. The soup was just served, when

Hughie saw a nigger peering in through the door. He went out to

him, for it was a violation of Berande custom. Any nigger has to

send in word by the house-boys, and to keep outside the compound.

This man, who was one of Packard’s boat’s-crew, was on the veranda.

And he knew better, too. ‘What name?’ said Hughie. ‘You tell ‘m

white man close up we fella boat’s-crew go along. He no come now,

we fella boy no wait. We go.’ And just then Hughie fetched him a

clout that knocked him clean down the stairs and off the veranda.”

But it was needlessly cruel,” Joan objected. “You wouldn’t treat

a white man that way.”

“And that’s just the point. He wasn’t a white man. He was a low

black nigger, and he was deliberately insulting, not alone his own

white master, but every white master in the Solomons. He insulted

me. He insulted Hughie. He insulted Berande.”

“Of course, according to your lights, to your formula of the rule

of the strong–”

“Yes,” Sheldon interrupted, “but it was according to the formula of

the rule of the weak that Packard ruled. And what was the result?

I am still alive. Packard is dead. He was unswervingly kind and

gentle to his boys, and his boys waited till one day he was down

with fever. His head is over on Malaita now. They carried away

two whale-boats as well, filled with the loot of the store. Then

there was Captain Mackenzie of the ketch Minota. He believed in

kindness. He also contended that better confidence was established

by carrying no weapons. On his second trip to Malaita, recruiting,

he ran into Bina, which is near Langa Langa. The rifles with which

the boat’s-crew should have been armed, were locked up in his

cabin. When the whale-boat went ashore after recruits, he paraded

around the deck without even a revolver on him. He was tomahawked.

His head remains in Malaita. It was suicide. So was Packard’s

finish suicide.”

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39

“I grant that precaution is necessary in dealing with them,” Joan

agreed; “but I believe that more satisfactory results can be

obtained by treating them with discreet kindness and gentleness.”

“And there I agree with YOU, but you must understand one thing.

Berande, bar none, is by far the worst plantation in the Solomons

so far as the labour is concerned. And how it came to be so proves

your point. The previous owners of Berande were not discreetly

kind. They were a pair of unadulterated brutes. One was a down-

east Yankee, as I believe they are called, and the other was a

guzzling German. They were slave-drivers. To begin with, they

bought their labour from Johnny Be-blowed, the most notorious

recruiter in the Solomons. He is working out a ten years’ sentence

in Fiji now, for the wanton killing of a black boy. During his

last days here he had made himself so obnoxious that the natives on

Malaita would have nothing to do with him. The only way he could

get recruits was by hurrying to the spot whenever a murder or

series of murders occurred. The murderers were usually only too

willing to sign on and get away to escape vengeance. Down here

they call such escapes, ‘pier-head jumps.’ There is suddenly a

roar from the beach, and a nigger runs down to the water pursued by

clouds of spears and arrows. Of course, Johnny Be-blowed’s whale-

boat is lying ready to pick him up. In his last days Johnny got

nothing but pier-head jumps.

“And the first owners of Berande bought his recruits–a hard-bitten

gang of murderers. They were all five-year boys. You see, the

recruiter has the advantage over a boy when he makes a pier-head

jump. He could sign him on for ten years did the law permit.

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