south sea tales-第20节

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whether　it　was　one　that　had　made　a　good　meal　elsewhere；　I　do　not　know。　At　any

rate；　he　was　not　in　such　haste　as　the　others。　I　could　not　swim　so　rapidly　now；

for　a　large　part　of　my　effort　was　devoted　to　keeping　track　of　him。　I　was

watching　him　when　he　made　his　first　attack。　By　good　luck　I　got　both　hands　on

his　nose；　and；　though　his　momentum　nearly　shoved　me　under；　I　managed　to　keep

him　off。　He　veered　clear；　and　began　circling　about　again。　A　second　time　I

escaped　him　by　the　same　manoeuvre。　The　third　rush　was　a　miss　on　both　sides。　He

sheered　at　the　moment　my　hands　should　have　landed　on　his　nose；　but　his

sandpaper　hide　（I　had　on　a　sleeveless　undershirt）　scraped　the　skin　off　one　arm

from　elbow　to　shoulder。



By　this　time　I　was　played　out；　and　gave　up　hope。　The　schooner　was　still　two

hundred　feet　away。　My　face　was　in　the　water；　and　I　was　watching　him　manoeuvre

for　another　attempt；　when　I　saw　a　brown　body　pass　between　us。　It　was　Otoo。



〃Swim　for　the　schooner；　master！〃　he　said。　And　he　spoke　gayly；　as　though　the

affair　was　a　mere　lark。　〃I　know　sharks。　The　shark　is　my　brother。〃



I　obeyed；　swimming　slowly　on；　while　Otoo　swam　about　me；　keeping　always　between

me　and　the　shark；　foiling　his　rushes　and　encouraging　me。



〃The　davit　tackle　carried　away；　and　they　are　rigging　the　falls；〃　he　explained；

a　minute　or　so　later；　and　then　went　under　to　head　off　another　attack。



By　the　time　the　schooner　was　thirty　feet　away　I　was　about　done　for。　I　could

scarcely　move。　They　were　heaving　lines　at　us　from　on　board；　but　they

continually　fell　short。　The　shark；　finding　that　it　was　receiving　no　hurt；　had

become　bolder。　Several　times　it　nearly　got　me；　but　each　time　Otoo　was　there

just　the　moment　before　it　was　too　late。　Of　course；　Otoo　could　have　saved

himself　any　time。　But　he　stuck　by　me。



〃Good…by；　Charley！　I'm　finished！〃　I　just　managed　to　gasp。



I　knew　that　the　end　had　come；　and　that　the　next　moment　I　should　throw　up　my

hands　and　go　down。



But　Otoo　laughed　in　my　face；　saying：



〃I　will　show　you　a　new　trick。　I　will　make　that　shark　feel　sick！〃



He　dropped　in　behind　me；　where　the　shark　was　preparing　to　come　at　me。



〃A　little　more　to　the　left！〃　he　next　called　out。　〃There　is　a　line　there　on　the

water。　To　the　left；　masterto　the　left！〃



I　changed　my　course　and　struck　out　blindly。　I　was　by　that　time　barely

conscious。　As　my　hand　closed　on　the　line　I　heard　an　exclamation　from　on　board。

I　turned　and　looked。　There　was　no　sign　of　Otoo。　The　next　instant　he　broke

surface。　Both　hands　were　off　at　the　wrist；　the　stumps　spouting　blood。



〃Otoo！〃　he　called　softly。　And　I　could　see　in　his　gaze　the　love　that　thrilled

in　his　voice。



Then；　and　then　only；　at　the　very　last　of　all　our　years；　he　called　me　by　that

name。



〃Good…by；　Otoo！〃　he　called。



Then　he　was　dragged　under；　and　I　was　hauled　aboard；　where　I　fainted　in　the

captain's　arms。



And　so　passed　Otoo；　who　saved　me　and　made　me　a　man；　and　who　saved　me　in　the

end。　We　met　in　the　maw　of　a　hurricane；　and　parted　in　the　maw　of　a　shark；　with

seventeen　intervening　years　of　comradeship；　the　like　of　which　I　dare　to　assert

has　never　befallen　two　men；　the　one　brown　and　the　other　white。　If　Jehovah　be

from　His　high　place　watching　every　sparrow　fall；　not　least　in　His　kingdom

shall　be　Otoo；　the　one　heathen　of　Bora　Bora。







THE　TERRIBLE　SOLOMONS



There　is　no　gainsaying　that　the　Solomons　are　a　hard…bitten　bunch　of　islands。

On　the　other　hand；　there　are　worse　places　in　the　world。　But　to　the　new　chum

who　has　no　constitutional　understanding　of　men　and　life　in　the　rough；　the

Solomons　may　indeed　prove　terrible。



It　is　true　that　fever　and　dysentery　are　perpetually　on　the　walk…about；　that

loathsome　skin　diseases　abound；　that　the　air　is　saturated　with　a　poison　that

bites　into　every　pore；　cut；　or　abrasion　and　plants　malignant　ulcers；　and　that

many　strong　men　who　escape　dying　there　return　as　wrecks　to　their　own

countries。　　It　is　also　true　that　the　natives　of　the　Solomons　are　a　wild　lot；

with　a　hearty　appetite　for　human　flesh　and　a　fad　for　collecting　human　heads。

Their　highest　instinct　of　sportsmanship　is　to　catch　a　man　with　his　back　turned

and　to　smite　him　a　cunning　blow　with　a　tomahawk　that　severs　the　spinal　column

at　the　base　of　the　brain。　　It　is　equally　true　that　on　some　islands；　such　as

Malaita；　the　profit　and　loss　account　of　social　intercourse　is　calculated　in

homicides。　Heads　are　a　medium　of　exchange；　and　white　heads　are　extremely

valuable。　Very　often　a　dozen　villages　make　a　jack…pot；　which　they　fatten　moon

by　moon；　against　the　time　when　some　brave　warrior　presents　a　white　man's　head；

fresh　and　gory；　and　claims　the　pot。



All　the　foregoing　is　quite　true；　and　yet　there　are　white　men　who　have　lived　in

the　Solomons　a　score　of　years　and　who　feel　homesick　when　they　go　away　from

them。　A　man　needs　only　to　be　careful　and　luckyto　live　a　long　time　in　the

Solomons；　but　he　must　also　be　of　the　right　sort。　He　must　have　the　hallmark　of

the　inevitable　white　man　stamped　upon　his　soul。　He　must　be　inevitable。　He　must

have　a　certain　grand　carelessness　of　odds；　a　certain　colossal

self…satisfaction；　and　a　racial　egotism　that　convinces　him　that　one　white　is

better　than　a　thousand　niggers　every　day　in　the　week；　and　that　on　Sunday　he　is

able　to　clean　out　two　thousand　niggers。　For　such　are　the　things　that　have　made

the　white　man　inevitable。　Oh；　and　one　other　thingthe　white　man　who　wishes　to

be　inevitable；　must　not　merely　despise　the　lesser　breeds　and　think　a　lot　of

himself；　he　must　also　fail　to　be　too　long　on　imagination。　He　must　not

understand　too　well　the　instincts；　customs；　and　mental　processes　of　the

blacks；　the　yellows；　and　the　browns；　for　it　is　not　in　such　fashion　that　the

white　race　has　tramped　its　royal　road　around　the　world。



Bertie　Arkwright　was　not　inevitable。　He　was　too　sensitive；　too　finely　strung；

and　he　possessed　too　much　imagination。　The　world　was　too　much　with　him。　He

projected　himself　too　quiveringly　into　his　environment。　Therefore；　the　last

place　in　the　world　for　him　to　come　was　the　Solomons。　He　did　not　come；

expecting　to　stay。　A　five　weeks'　stop…over　between　steamers；　he　decided；　would

satisfy　the　call　of　the　primitive　he　felt　thrumming　the　strings　of　his　being。

At　least；　so　he　told　the　lady　tourists　on　the　MAKEMBO；　though　in　different

terms；　and　they　worshipped　him　as　a　hero；　for　they　were　lady　tourists　and　they

would　know　only　the　safety　of　the　steamer's　deck　as　she　threaded　her　way

through　the　Solomons。



There　was　another　man　on　board；　of　whom　the　ladies　took　no　notice。　He　was　a

little　shriveled　wisp　of　a　man；　with　a　withered　skin　the　color　of　mahogany。

His　name　on　the　passenger　list　does　not　matter；　but　his　other　name；　Captain

Malu；　was　a　name　for　niggers　to　conjure　with；　and　to　scare　naughty

pickaninnies　to　righteousness　from　New　Hanover　to　the　New　Hebrides。　He　had

farmed　savages　and　savagery；　and　from　fever　and　hardship；　the　crack　of　Sniders

and　the　lash　of　the　overseers；　had　wrested　five　millions　of　money　in　the　form

of　b坈he…de…mer；　sandalwood；　pearl…shell　and　turtle…shell；　ivory　nuts　and

copra；　grasslands；　trading　stations；　and　plantations。　Captain　Malu's　little

finger；　which　was　broken；　had　more　inevitableness　in　it　than　Bertie

Arkwright's　whole　carcass。　But　then；　the　lady　tourists　had　nothing　by　which　to

judge　save　appearances；　and　Bertie　certainly　was　a　fine…looking　man。　



Bertie　talked　with　Captain　Malu　in　the　smoking　room；　confiding　to　him　his

intention　of　seeing　life　red　and　bleeding　in　the　Solomons。　Captain　Malu　agreed

that　the　intention　was　ambitious　and　honorable。　It　was　not　until　several　days

later　that　he　became　interested　in　Bertie；　when　that　young　adventurer　insisted

on　showing　him　an　automatic　44…caliber　pistol。　Bertie　explained　the　mechanism

and　demonstrated　by　slipping　a　loaded　magazine　up　the　hollow　butt。



〃It　is　so　simple；〃　he　said。　He　shot　the　outer　barrel　back　along　the　inner　one。

〃That　loads　it　and　cocks　it；　you　see。　And　then　all　I　have　to　do　is　pull　the

trigger；　eight　times；　as　fast　as　I　can　quiver　my　finger。　See　that　safety

clutch。　That's　what　I　like　about　it。　It　is　safe。　It　is　positively　fool…proof。〃

He　slipped　out　the　magazine。　〃You　see　how　safe　it　is。〃



As　he　held　it　in　his　hand；　the　muzzle　came　in　line　with　Captain　Malu's

stomach。　Captain　Malu's　blue　eyes　looked　at　it　unswervingly。



〃Would　you　mind　pointing　it　in　some　other　direction？〃　he　asked。



〃It's　perfectly　safe；〃　Bertie　assured　him。　〃I　withdrew　the　magazine。　It's　not

loaded　now；　you　know。〃



〃A　gun　is　always　loaded。〃



〃But　this　one　isn't。〃



〃Turn　it　away　just　the　same。〃



Captain　Malu's　voice　was　flat　and　metallic　and　low；　but　his　eyes　never　left

the　muzzle　until　the　line　of　it　was　drawn　past　him　and　away　from　him。



〃I'll　bet　a　fiver　it　isn't　loaded；〃　Bertie　proposed　warmly。



The　other　shook　his　head。



〃Then　I'll　show　you。〃



Bertie　started　to　put　the　muzzle　to　his　own　temple　with　the　evident　i