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Adventure by Jack London

many followers, was lord and master of Balesuna village. But the

white man, without followers, was lord and master of Berande–ay,

and on occasion, single-handed, had made himself lord and master of

Balesuna village as well. Seelee did not like to remember that

episode. It had occurred in the course of learning the nature of

white men and of learning to abominate them. He had once been

guilty of sheltering three runaways from Berande. They had given

him all they possessed in return for the shelter and for promised

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8

aid in getting away to Malaita. This had given him a glimpse of a

profitable future, in which his village would serve as the one

depot on the underground railway between Berande and Malaita.

Unfortunately, he was ignorant of the ways of white men. This

particular white man educated him by arriving at his grass house in

the gray of dawn. In the first moment he had felt amused. He was

so perfectly safe in the midst of his village. But the next

moment, and before he could cry out, a pair of handcuffs on the

white man’s knuckles had landed on his mouth, knocking the cry of

alarm back down his throat. Also, the white man’s other fist had

caught him under the ear and left him without further interest in

what was happening. When he came to, he found himself in the white

man’s whale-boat on the way to Berande. At Berande he had been

treated as one of no consequence, with handcuffs on hands and feet,

to say nothing of chains. When his tribe had returned the three

runaways, he was given his freedom. And finally, the terrible

white man had fined him and Balesuna village ten thousand

cocoanuts. After that he had sheltered no more runaway Malaita

men. Instead, he had gone into the business of catching them. It

was safer. Besides, he was paid one case of tobacco per head. But

if he ever got a chance at that white man, if he ever caught him

sick or stood at his back when he stumbled and fell on a bush-

trail–well, there would be a head that would fetch a price in

Malaita.

Sheldon was pleased with what Seelee told him. The seventh man of

the last batch of runaways had been caught and was even then at the

gate. He was brought in, heavy-featured and defiant, his arms

bound with cocoanut sennit, the dry blood still on his body from

the struggle with his captors.

“Me savvee you good fella, Seelee,” Sheldon said, as the chief

gulped down a quarter-tumbler of raw trade-gin. “Fella boy belong

me you catch short time little bit. This fella boy strong fella

too much. I give you fella one case tobacco–my word, one case

tobacco. Then, you good fella along me, I give you three fathom

calico, one fella knife big fella too much.”

The tobacco and trade goods were brought from the store-room by two

house-boys and turned over to the chief of Balesuna village, who

accepted the additional reward with a non-committal grunt and went

away down the path to his canoes. Under Sheldon’s directions the

house-boys handcuffed the prisoner, by hands and feet, around one

of the pile supports of the house. At eleven o’clock, when the

labourers came in from the field, Sheldon had them assembled in the

compound before the veranda. Every able man was there, including

those who were helping about the hospital. Even the women and the

several pickaninnies of the plantation were lined up with the rest,

two deep–a horde of naked savages a trifle under two hundred

strong. In addition to their ornaments of bead and shell and bone,

their pierced ears and nostrils were burdened with safety-pins,

wire nails, metal hair-pins, rusty iron handles of cooking

utensils, and the patent keys for opening corned beef tins. Some

wore penknives clasped on their kinky locks for safety. On the

chest of one a china door-knob was suspended, on the chest of

another the brass wheel of an alarm clock.

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9

Facing them, clinging to the railing of the veranda for support,

stood the sick white man. Any one of them could have knocked him

over with the blow of a little finger. Despite his firearms, the

gang could have rushed him and delivered that blow, when his head

and the plantation would have been theirs. Hatred and murder and

lust for revenge they possessed to overflowing. But one thing they

lacked, the thing that he possessed, the flame of mastery that

would not quench, that burned fiercely as ever in the disease-

wasted body, and that was ever ready to flare forth and scorch and

singe them with its ire.

“Narada! Billy!” Sheldon called sharply.

Two men slunk unwillingly forward and waited.

Sheldon gave the keys of the handcuffs to a house-boy, who went

under the house and loosed the prisoner.

“You fella Narada, you fella Billy, take um this fella boy along

tree and make fast, hands high up,” was Sheldon’s command.

While this was being done, slowly, amidst mutterings and

restlessness on the part of the onlookers, one of the house-boys

fetched a heavy-handled, heavy-lashed whip. Sheldon began a

speech.

“This fella Arunga, me cross along him too much. I no steal this

fella Arunga. I no gammon. I say, ‘All right, you come along me

Berande, work three fella year.’ He say, ‘All right, me come along

you work three fella year.’ He come. He catch plenty good fella

kai-kai, {2} plenty good fella money. What name he run away? Me

too much cross along him. I knock what name outa him fella. I pay

Seelee, big fella master along Balesuna, one case tobacco catch

that fella Arunga. All right. Arunga pay that fella case tobacco.

Six pounds that fella Arunga pay. Alle same one year more that

fella Arunga work Berande. All right. Now he catch ten fella whip

three times. You fella Billy catch whip, give that fella Arunga

ten fella three times. All fella boys look see, all fella Marys

{3} look see; bime bye, they like run away they think strong fella

too much, no run away. Billy, strong fella too much ten fella

three times.”

The house-boy extended the whip to him, but Billy did not take it.

Sheldon waited quietly. The eyes of all the cannibals were fixed

upon him in doubt and fear and eagerness. It was the moment of

test, whereby the lone white man was to live or be lost.

“Ten fella three times, Billy,” Sheldon said encouragingly, though

there was a certain metallic rasp in his voice.

Billy scowled, looked up and looked down, but did not move.

“Billy!”

Sheldon’s voice exploded like a pistol shot. The savage started

physically. Grins overspread the grotesque features of the

ADVENTURE

10

audience, and there was a sound of tittering.

“S’pose you like too much lash that fella Arunga, you take him

fella Tulagi,” Billy said. “One fella government agent make plenty

lash. That um fella law. Me savvee um fella law.”

It was the law, and Sheldon knew it. But he wanted to live this

day and the next day and not to die waiting for the law to operate

the next week or the week after.

“Too much talk along you!” he cried angrily. “What name eh? What

name?”

“Me savvee law,” the savage repeated stubbornly.

“Astoa!”

Another man stepped forward in almost a sprightly way and glanced

insolently up. Sheldon was selecting the worst characters for the

lesson.

“You fella Astoa, you fella Narada, tie up that fella Billy

alongside other fella same fella way.”

“Strong fella tie,” he cautioned them.

“You fella Astoa take that fella whip. Plenty strong big fella too

much ten fella three times. Savvee!”

“No,” Astoa grunted.

Sheldon picked up the rifle that had leaned against the rail, and

cocked it.

“I know you, Astoa,” he said calmly. “You work along Queensland

six years.”

“Me fella missionary,” the black interrupted with deliberate

insolence.

Queensland you stop jail one fella year. White fella master damn

fool no hang you. You too much bad fella. Queensland you stop

jail six months two fella time. Two fella time you steal. All

right, you missionary. You savvee one fella prayer?”

“Yes, me savvee prayer,” was the reply.

“All right, then you pray now, short time little bit. You say one

fella prayer damn quick, then me kill you.”

Sheldon held the rifle on him and waited. The black glanced around

at his fellows, but none moved to aid him. They were intent upon

the coming spectacle, staring fascinated at the white man with

death in his hands who stood alone on the great veranda. Sheldon

has won, and he knew it. Astoa changed his weight irresolutely

from one foot to the other. He looked at the white man, and saw

his eyes gleaming level along the sights.

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“Astoa,” Sheldon said, seizing the psychological moment, “I count

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Categories: London, Jack
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