south sea tales-第17节

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that　inconceivable　wind　was　blowing　in　toward　the　center　of　calm。　The　result

was　that　the　seas　sprang　up　from　every　point　of　the　compass。　There　was　no　wind

to　check　them。　They　popped　up　like　corks　released　from　the　bottom　of　a　pail　of

water。　There　was　no　system　to　them；　no　stability。　They　were　hollow；　maniacal

seas。　They　were　eighty　feet　high　at　the　least。　They　were　not　seas　at　all。　They

resembled　no　sea　a　man　had　ever　seen。



They　were　splashes；　monstrous　splashesthat　is　all。　Splashes　that　were　eighty

feet　high。　Eighty！　They　were　more　than　eighty。　　They　went　over　our　mastheads。

They　were　spouts；　explosions。　They　were　drunken。　They　fell　anywhere；　anyhow。

They　jostled　one　another；　they　collided。　They　rushed　together　and　collapsed

upon　one　another；　or　fell　apart　like　a　thousand　waterfalls　all　at　once。　It　was

no　ocean　any　man　had　ever　dreamed　of；　that　hurricane　center。　It　was　confusion

thrice　confounded。　It　was　anarchy。　It　was　a　hell　pit　of　sea　water　gone　mad。



The　Petite　Jeanne？　I　don't　know。　The　heathen　told　me　afterwards　that　he　did

not　know。　She　was　literally　torn　apart；　ripped　wide　open；　beaten　into　a　pulp；

smashed　into　kindling　wood；　annihilated。　When　I　came　to　I　was　in　the　water；

swimming　automatically；　though　I　was　about　two…thirds　drowned。　How　I　got　there

I　had　no　recollection。　I　remembered　seeing　the　Petite　Jeanne　fly　to　pieces　at

what　must　have　been　the　instant　that　my　own　consciousness　was　buffeted　out　of

me。　But　there　I　was；　with　nothing　to　do　but　make　the　best　of　it；　and　in　that

best　there　was　little　promise。　The　wind　was　blowing　again；　the　sea　was　much

smaller　and　more　regular；　and　I　knew　that　I　had　passed　through　the　center。

Fortunately；　there　were　no　sharks　about。　The　hurricane　had　dissipated　the

ravenous　horde　that　had　surrounded　the　death　ship　and　fed　off　the　dead。



It　was　about　midday　when　the　Petite　Jeanne　went　to　pieces；　and　it　must　have

been　two　hours　afterwards　when　I　picked　up　with　one　of　her　hatch　covers。　Thick

rain　was　driving　at　the　time；　and　it　was　the　merest　chance　that　flung　me　and

the　hatch　cover　together。　A　short　length　of　line　was　trailing　from　the　rope

handle；　and　I　knew　that　I　was　good　for　a　day；　at　least；　if　the　sharks　did　not

return。　Three　hours　later；　possibly　a　little　longer；　sticking　close　to　the

cover；　and　with　closed　eyes；　concentrating　my　whole　soul　upon　the　task　of

breathing　in　enough　air　to　keep　me　going　and　at　the　same　time　of　avoiding

breathing　in　enough　water　to　drown　me；　it　seemed　to　me　that　I　heard　voices。

The　rain　had　ceased；　and　wind　and　sea　were　easing　marvelously。　Not　twenty　feet

away　from　me；　on　another　hatch　cover　were　Captain　Oudouse　and　the　heathen。

They　were　fighting　over　the　possession　of　the　coverat　least；　the　Frenchman

was。　〃Paien　noir！〃　I　heard　him　scream；　and　at　the　same　time　I　saw　him　kick　the

kanaka。



Now；　Captain　Oudouse　had　lost　all　his　clothes；　except　his　shoes；　and　they　were

heavy　brogans。　It　was　a　cruel　blow；　for　it　caught　the　heathen　on　the　mouth　and

the　point　of　the　chin；　half　stunning　him。　I　looked　for　him　to　retaliate；　but

he　contented　himself　with　swimming　about　forlornly　a　safe　ten　feet　away。

Whenever　a　fling　of　the　sea　threw　him　closer；　the　Frenchman；　hanging　on　with

his　hands；　kicked　out　at　him　with　both　feet。　Also；　at　the　moment　of　delivering

each　kick；　he　called　the　kanaka　a　black　heathen。



〃For　two　centimes　I'd　come　over　there　and　drown　you；　you　white　beast！〃　I

yelled。



The　only　reason　I　did　not　go　was　that　I　felt　too　tired。　The　very　thought　of

the　effort　to　swim　over　was　nauseating。　So　I　called　to　the　kanaka　to　come　to

me；　and　proceeded　to　share　the　hatch　cover　with　him。　Otoo；　he　told　me　his　name

was　（pronounced　o…to…o　）；　also；　he　told　me　that　he　was　a　native　of　Bora　Bora；

the　most　westerly　of　the　Society　Group。　As　I　learned　afterward；　he　had　got　the

hatch　cover　first；　and；　after　some　time；　encountering　Captain　Oudouse；　had

offered　to　share　it　with　him；　and　had　been　kicked　off　for　his　pains。



And　that　was　how　Otoo　and　I　first　came　together。　He　was　no　fighter。　He　was　all

sweetness　and　gentleness；　a　love　creature；　though　he　stood　nearly　six　feet

tall　and　was　muscled　like　a　gladiator。　He　was　no　fighter；　but　he　was　also　no

coward。　He　had　the　heart　of　a　lion；　and　in　the　years　that　followed　I　have　seen

him　run　risks　that　I　would　never　dream　of　taking。　What　I　mean　is　that　while　he

was　no　fighter；　and　while　he　always　avoided　precipitating　a　row；　he　never　ran

away　from　trouble　when　it　started。　And　it　was　〃Ware　shoal！〃　when　once　Otoo

went　into　action。　I　shall　never　forget　what　he　did　to　Bill　King。　It　occurred

in　German　Samoa。　Bill　King　was　hailed　the　champion　heavyweight　of　the　American

Navy。　He　was　a　big　brute　of　a　man；　a　veritable　gorilla；　one　of　those

hard…hitting；　rough…housing　chaps；　and　clever　with　his　fists　as　well。　He

picked　the　quarrel；　and　he　kicked　Otoo　twice　and　struck　him　once　before　Otoo

felt　it　to　be　necessary　to　fight。　I　don't　think　it　lasted　four　minutes；　at　the

end　of　which　time　Bill　King　was　the　unhappy　possessor　of　four　broken　ribs；　a

broken　forearm；　and　a　dislocated　shoulder　blade。　Otoo　knew　nothing　of

scientific　boxing。　He　was　merely　a　manhandler；　and　Bill　King　was　something

like　three　months　in　recovering　from　the　bit　of　manhandling　he　received　that

afternoon　on　Apia　beach。



But　I　am　running　ahead　of　my　yarn。　We　shared　the　hatch　cover　between　us。　We

took　turn　and　turn　about；　one　lying　flat　on　the　cover　and　resting；　while　the

other；　submerged　to　the　neck；　merely　held　on　with　his　hands。　For　two　days　and

nights；　spell　and　spell；　on　the　cover　and　in　the　water；　we　drifted　over　the

ocean。　　Towards　the　last　I　was　delirious　most　of　the　time；　and　there　were

times；　too；　when　I　heard　Otoo　babbling　and　raving　in　his　native　tongue。　Our

continuous　immersion　prevented　us　from　dying　of　thirst；　though　the　sea　water

and　the　sunshine　gave　us　the　prettiest　imaginable　combination　of　salt　pickle

and　sunburn。



In　the　end；　Otoo　saved　my　life；　for　I　came　to　lying　on　the　beach　twenty　feet

from　the　water；　sheltered　from　the　sun　by　a　couple　of　cocoanut　leaves。　No　one

but　Otoo　could　have　dragged　me　there　and　stuck　up　the　leaves　for　shade。　He　was

lying　beside　me。　I　went　off　again；　and　the　next　time　I　came　round；　it　was　cool

and　starry　night；　and　Otoo　was　pressing　a　drinking　cocoanut　to　my　lips。



We　were　the　sole　survivors　of　the　Petite　Jeanne。　Captain　Oudouse　must　have

succumbed　to　exhaustion；　for　several　days　later　his　hatch　cover　drifted　ashore

without　him。　Otoo　and　I　lived　with　the　natives　of　the　atoll　for　a　week；　when

we　were　rescued　by　the　French　cruiser　and　taken　to　Tahiti。　In　the　meantime；

however；　we　had　performed　the　ceremony　of　exchanging　names。　In　the　South　Seas

such　a　ceremony　binds　two　men　closer　together　than　blood　brothership。　The

initiative　had　been　mine；　and　Otoo　was　rapturously　delighted　when　I　suggested

it。



〃It　is　well；〃　he　said；　in　Tahitian。　〃For　we　have　been　mates　together　for　two

days　on　the　lips　of　Death。〃



〃But　death　stuttered；〃　I　smiled。



〃It　was　a　brave　deed　you　did；　master；〃　he　replied；　〃and　Death　was　not　vile

enough　to　speak。〃



〃Why　do　you　'master'　me？〃　I　demanded；　with　a　show　of　hurt　feelings。　〃We　have

exchanged　names。　To　you　I　am　Otoo。　To　me　you　are　Charley。　And　between　you　and

me；　forever　and　forever；　you　shall　be　Charley；　and　I　shall　be　Otoo。　It　is　the

way　of　the　custom。　And　when　we　die；　if　it　does　happen　that　we　live　again

somewhere　beyond　the　stars　and　the　sky；　still　shall　you　be　Charley　to　me；　and

I　Otoo　to　you。〃



〃Yes；　master；〃　he　answered；　his　eyes　luminous　and　soft　with　joy。



〃There　you　go！〃　I　cried　indignantly。



〃What　does　it　matter　what　my　lips　utter？〃　he　argued。　〃They　are　only　my　lips。

But　I　shall　think　Otoo　always。　Whenever　I　think　of　myself；　I　shall　think　of

you。　Whenever　men　call　me　by　name；　I　shall　think　of　you。　And　beyond　the　sky

and　beyond　the　stars；　always　and　forever；　you　shall　be　Otoo　to　me。　Is　it　well；

master？〃



I　hid　my　smile；　and　answered　that　it　was　well。



We　parted　at　Papeete。　I　remained　ashore　to　recuperate；　and　he　went　on　in　a

cutter　to　his　own　island；　Bora　Bora。　Six　weeks　later　he　was　back。　I　was

surprised；　for　he　had　told　me　of　his　wife；　and　said　that　he　was　returning　to

her；　and　would　give　over　sailing　on　far　voyages。



〃Where　do　you　go；　master？〃　he　asked；　after　our　first　greetings。



I　shrugged　my　shoulders。　It　was　a　hard　question。



〃All　the　world；〃　was　my　answer〃all　the　world；　all　the　sea；　and　all　the

islands　that　are　in　the　sea。〃



〃I　will　go　with　you；〃　he　said　simply。　〃My　wife　is　dead。〃



I　never　had　a　brother；　but　from　what　I　have　seen　of　other　men's　brothers；　I

doubt　if　any　man　ever　had　a　brother　that　was　to　him　what　Otoo　was　to　me。　He

was　brother　and　father　and　mother　as　well。　And　this　I　know：　I　lived　a

straighter　and　better　man　because　of　Otoo。　I　cared　little　for　other　men；　but　I

had　to　live　straight　in　Otoo's　eyes。　Because　of　him　I　dared　not　tarnish

myself。　He　made