X

Adventure by Jack London

“Ten,” said Tudor; “nine men and myself.”

“And you should be able to start day after to-morrow,” Von Blix

said to him. “The boats should practically be knocked together

this afternoon. To-morrow should see the outfit portioned and

packed. As for the Martha, Mr. Sheldon, we’ll rush the stuff

ashore this afternoon and sail by sundown.”

As the two men returned down the path to their boat, Sheldon

regarded Joan quizzically.

“There’s romance for you,” he said, “and adventure–gold-hunting

among the cannibals.”

“A title for a book,” she cried. “Or, better yet, ‘Gold-Hunting

Among the Head-Hunters.’ My! wouldn’t it sell!”

“And now aren’t you sorry you became a cocoanut planter?” he

teased. “Think of investing in such an adventure.”

“If I did,” she retorted, “Von Blix wouldn’t be finicky about my

joining in the cruise to Malaita.”

“I don’t doubt but what he would jump at it.”

“What do you think of them?” she asked.

“Oh, old Von Blix is all right, a solid sort of chap in his

fashion; but Tudor is fly-away–too much on the surface, you know.

If it came to being wrecked on a desert island, I’d prefer Von

Blix.”

“I don’t quite understand,” Joan objected. “What have you against

Tudor?”

“You remember Browning’s ‘Last Duchess’?”

She nodded.

“Well, Tudor reminds me of her–”

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73

“But she was delightful.”

“So she was. But she was a woman. One expects something different

from a man–more control, you know, more restraint, more

deliberation. A man must be more solid, more solid and steady-

going and less effervescent. A man of Tudor’s type gets on my

nerves. One demands more repose from a man.”

Joan felt that she did not quite agree with his judgment; and,

somehow, Sheldon caught her feeling and was disturbed. He

remembered noting how her eyes had brightened as she talked with

the newcomer–confound it all, was he getting jealous? he asked

himself. Why shouldn’t her eyes brighten? What concern was it of

his?

A second boat had been lowered, and the outfit of the shore party

was landed rapidly. A dozen of the crew put the knocked-down boats

together on the beach. There were five of these craft–lean and

narrow, with flaring sides, and remarkably long. Each was equipped

with three paddles and several iron-shod poles.

“You chaps certainly seem to know river-work,” Sheldon told one of

the carpenters.

The man spat a mouthful of tobacco-juice into the white sand, and

answered, –

“We use ’em in Alaska. They’re modelled after the Yukon poling-

boats, and you can bet your life they’re crackerjacks. This

creek’ll be a snap alongside some of them Northern streams. Five

hundred pounds in one of them boats, an’ two men can snake it along

in a way that’d surprise you.”

At sunset the Martha broke out her anchor and got under way,

dipping her flag and saluting with a bomb gun. The Union Jack ran

up and down the staff, and Sheldon replied with his brass signal-

cannon. The miners pitched their tents in the compound, and cooked

on the beach, while Tudor dined with Joan and Sheldon.

Their guest seemed to have been everywhere and seen everything and

met everybody, and, encouraged by Joan, his talk was largely upon

his own adventures. He was an adventurer of adventurers, and by

his own account had been born into adventure. Descended from old

New England stock, his father a consul-general, he had been born in

Germany, in which country he had received his early education and

his accent. Then, still a boy, he had rejoined his father in

Turkey, and accompanied him later to Persia, his father having been

appointed Minister to that country.

Tudor had always been a wanderer, and with facile wit and quick

vivid description he leaped from episode and place to episode and

place, relating his experiences seemingly not because they were

his, but for the sake of their bizarreness and uniqueness, for the

unusual incident or the laughable situation. He had gone through

South American revolutions, been a Rough Rider in Cuba, a scout in

South Africa, a war correspondent in the Russo-Japanese war. He

had mushed dogs in the Klondike, washed gold from the sands of

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74

Nome, and edited a newspaper in San Francisco. The President of

the United States was his friend. He was equally at home in the

clubs of London and the Continent, the Grand Hotel at Yokohama, and

the selector’s shanties in the Never-Never country. He had shot

big game in Siam, pearled in the Paumotus, visited Tolstoy, seen

the Passion Play, and crossed the Andes on mule-back; while he was

a living directory of the fever holes of West Africa.

Sheldon leaned back in his chair on the veranda, sipping his coffee

and listening. In spite of himself he felt touched by the charm of

the man who had led so varied a life. And yet Sheldon was not

comfortable. It seemed to him that the man addressed himself

particularly to Joan. His words and smiles were directed

impartially toward both of them, yet Sheldon was certain, had the

two men of them been alone, that the conversation would have been

along different lines. Tudor had seen the effect on Joan and

deliberately continued the flow of reminiscence, netting her in the

glamour of romance. Sheldon watched her rapt attention, listened

to her spontaneous laughter, quick questions, and passing

judgments, and felt grow within him the dawning consciousness that

he loved her.

So he was very quiet and almost sad, though at times he was aware

of a distinct irritation against his guest, and he even speculated

as to what percentage of Tudor’s tale was true and how any of it

could be proved or disproved. In this connection, as if the scene

had been prepared by a clever playwright, Utami came upon the

veranda to report to Joan the capture of a crocodile in the trap

they had made for her.

Tudor’s face, illuminated by the match with which he was lighting

his cigarette, caught Utami’s eye, and Utami forgot to report to

his mistress.

“Hello, Tudor,” he said, with a familiarity that startled Sheldon.

The Polynesian’s hand went out, and Tudor, shaking it, was staring

into his face.

“Who is it? ” he asked. “I can’t see you.”

“Utami.”

“And who the dickens is Utami? Where did I ever meet you, my man?”

“You no forget the Huahine?” Utami chided. “Last time Huahine

sail?”

Tudor gripped the Tahitian’s hand a second time and shook it with

genuine heartiness.

“There was only one kanaka who came out of the Huahine that last

voyage, and that kanaka was Joe. The deuce take it, man, I’m glad

to see you, though I never heard your new name before.”

“Yes, everybody speak me Joe along the Huahine. Utami my name all

the time, just the same.”

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75

“But what are you doing here?” Tudor asked, releasing the sailor’s

hand and leaning eagerly forward.

“Me sail along Missie Lackalanna her schooner Miele. We go Tahiti,

Raiatea, Tahaa, Bora-Bora, Manua, Tutuila, Apia, Savaii, and Fiji

Islands–plenty Fiji Islands. Me stop along Missie Lackalanna in

Solomons. Very soon she catch other schooner.”

“He and I were the two survivors of the wreck of the Huahine,”

Tudor explained to the others. “Fifty-seven all told on board when

we sailed from Huapa, and Joe and I were the only two that ever set

foot on land again. Hurricane, you know, in the Paumotus. That

was when I was after pearls.”

“And you never told me, Utami, that you’d been wrecked in a

hurricane,” Joan said reproachfully.

The big Tahitian shifted his weight and flashed his teeth in a

conciliating smile.

“Me no t’ink nothing ‘t all,” he said.

He half-turned, as if to depart, by his manner indicating that he

considered it time to go while yet he desired to remain.

“All right, Utami,” Tudor said. “I’ll see you in the morning and

have a yarn.”

“He saved my life, the beggar,” Tudor explained, as the Tahitian

strode away and with heavy softness of foot went down the steps.

“Swim! I never met a better swimmer.”

And thereat, solicited by Joan, Tudor narrated the wreck of the

Huahine; while Sheldon smoked and pondered, and decided that

whatever the man’s shortcomings were, he was at least not a liar.

CHAPTER XV–A DISCOURSE ON MANNERS

The days passed, and Tudor seemed loath to leave the hospitality of

Berande. Everything was ready for the start, but he lingered on,

spending much time in Joan’s company and thereby increasing the

dislike Sheldon had taken to him. He went swimming with her, in

point of rashness exceeding her; and dynamited fish with her,

diving among the hungry ground-sharks and contesting with them for

possession of the stunned prey, until he earned the approval of the

whole Tahitian crew. Arahu challenged him to tear a fish from a

shark’s jaws, leaving half to the shark and bringing the other half

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