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The watering party had come back, but the two Solomon islanders (the recruits) lay in the bottom of the boat, both dead, and with broken spears sticking all over their bodies. The rest of the crew were wounded – one badly.

In two minutes Captain Kyte had the story. They were just filling the last cask when they were rushed, and the two Solomon islanders speared and clubbed to death. The rage of the attackers seemed specially directed against the two recruits, and the crew – who were natives of Likaiana (Stewart's Island) – said that after the first volley of spears no attempt was made to prevent their escape.

The face of Captain Kyte had undergone a curious change. It had turned to a dull leaden white, and his dark grey eyes had a spark of fire in them as he turned to the captain of the schooner.

"What business had you, you blundering, dunder-headed, Dutch swab, to let two of my recruits go ashore in that boat? Haven't you got enough sense to know that it was certain death for them. Two of my best men, too. Bougainville boys. By – ! you'd better jump overboard. You're no more fit for a labour schooner than I am to teach dancing in a ladies' school."

The captain made no answer. He was clearly in fault. As it was, no one of the boat's crew were killed, but that was merely because their European clothing showed them to be seamen. The matter was more serious for Kyte than any one else on board. The countrymen of the murdered boys looked upon him as the man chiefly responsible. He knew only one way of placating them – by paying some of the dead boys' relations a heavy indemnity, and immediately began a consultation with five Solomon islanders who came from the same island.

In the mean time the three traders returned to the shore, and Hans, with his usual thick-headedness, immediately "put his foot in it," by demanding a heavy compensation from the chief of the village for the killing of the two men.

The chief argued, very reasonably from his point of view, that the matter didn't concern him.

"I don't care what you think," wrathfully answered the little trader, "I want fifty coils, of fifty fathoms each, of dewarra. If I don't get it" – here he touched his revolver.

Now, dewarra is the native money of New Britain; it is formed of very small white shells of the cowrie species, perforated with two small holes at each end, and threaded upon thin strips of cane or the stalk of the cocoa-nut leaf. A coil of dewarras would be worth in European money, or its trade equivalent, about fifty dollars.

The chief wasn't long in giving his answer. His lips, stained a hideous red by the betel nut juice, opened in a derisive smile and revealed his blackened teeth.

"He will fight," he answered.

"You've done it now, Hans," said the Englishman, "you might as well pack up and clear out in the schooner. You have no more sense than a hog. By the time I get back to my station I'll find it burnt and all my trade gone. However, I don't care much; but I hope to see you get wiped out first. You deserve it."

All that night the native village was in a state of turmoil, and when daylight came it was deserted by the inhabitants, who had retreated to their bush-houses; the French trader, who had walked along the beach to his station, returned at daylight and reported that not a native was in his town, even his two wives had gone. Nothing, however, of his trade had been touched.

"That's a good sign for you," said the Englishman. "If I were you, Pierre, I would go quietly back, and start mending your fence or painting your boat as if nothing had happened. They won't meddle with you."

But this was strongly objected to by his fellow-trader, and just then a strange sound reached them, – the wild cries and howls of chorus, in a tongue unknown to the three men. It came from the sea, and going to the door they saw the schooner's two whaleboats, packed as full of natives as they could carry, close in to the shore. Instead of oars they were propelled by canoe paddles, and at each stroke the native rowers fairly made the boats leap and surge like steam launches in a sea-way. But the most noticeable thing to the eyes of the traders was the glitter of rifle barrels that appeared between the double row of paddlers. In another five minutes the leading boat was close enough for the traders to see that the paddlers who lined the gunwales from stem to stern had their faces daubed with red and blue, and their fighting ornaments on. In the body of the boats, crouching on their hams, with elbows on knees, and upright rifles, were the others, packed as tightly as sardines.

"Mein Gott!" gasped Muller, "they have killed all hands on the schooner and are coming for us. Look at the rifles." He dashed into his trade-room and brought out about half a dozen Sniders, and an Epsom salts box full of cartridges. "Come on, boys, load up as quick as you can."

"You thundering ass," said the Englishman, "look again; can't you see Kyte's in one boat steering?"

In another minute, with a roar from the excited savages, the first boat surged up on the beach, and a huge, light-skinned savage seized Kyte in his arms as if he were a child and placed him on the land. Then every man leaped out and stood, rifle in hand, waiting for the other boat. Again the same fierce cry as the second boat touched the shore; then silence, as they watched with dilated eyes and gleaming teeth the movements of the white man.

For one moment he stood facing them with outstretched hand uplifted in warning to check their eager rush. Then he turned to the traders —

"The devils have broken loose. Have you fellows any of your own natives that you don't want to get hurt? If so, get them inside the house, and look mighty smart about it."

"There's not a native on the beach," said the German, "every mother's son of them has cleared into the bush, except this man's boat's crew," pointing to the English trader; "they're in the house all right. But look out, Captain Kyte, those fellows in the bush mean fight. There's two thousand people in this village, and many of them have rifles – Sniders – and plenty cartridges. I know, because it was I who sold them."

Kyte smiled grimly. There was a steely glitter of suppressed excitement in his keen grey eyes. Then he again held up his hand to his followers —

"Blood for blood, my children. But heed well my words – kill not the women and children; now, go!"

Like bloodhounds slipped from the leash, the brown bodies and gleaming rifle barrels went by the white men in one wild rush, and passed away out of sight into the comparatively open forest that touched the edge of the trader's clearing.

"There they go," said Kyte quietly, as he sat down on the edge of the trader's verandah and lit a cigar, "and they'll give those smart niggers of yours a dressing down that will keep them quiet for the next five years (he was right, they did). Well, I had to let them have their own way. They told me that if I didn't let them have revenge for the two men that I would be unlucky before I got to Samoa, – a polite way of saying that they would seize the schooner and cut our throats on the way up. So to save unpleasantness, I gave each man a Snider and twenty-five cartridges, and told them to shoot as many pigs and fowls as they liked. You should have heard the beggars laugh. By the way, I hope they do shoot some, we want pork badly."

"Hallo, they've got to Tubarigan's, the chief's bush-house, and fired it!" said Muller.

A column of black smoke arose from the side of the mountain, and in another second or two loud yells and cries of defiance mingled with the thundering reports of the Sniders and the crackling of the flames.

The little Frenchman and Muller played nervously with their rifles for a moment or two; then meeting the answering look in each other's eyes, they dashed into the trees and up the jungle-clad mountain side in the direction of the smoke and fighting.

The native houses in New Britain are built of cane, neatly lashed together with coir cinnet, and the roofs thatched with broad-leaved grass or sugar-cane leaves. They burn well, and as the cane swells to the heat each joint bursts with a crack like a pistol shot.

"Look now," said Kyte to his companion, pointing along the tops of the hills. Clouds of black smoke and sheets of flame were everywhere visible, and amidst the continuous roar of the flames, the crackling of the burning cane-work of the native houses, and the incessant reports of the Sniders, came savage shouts and yells from the raiders, and answering cries of defiance from the New Britain men, who retreated slowly to the grassy hills of the interior, whence they watched the total destruction of some four or five of their villages. These bush-houses are constructed with great care and skill by the natives, and are generally only a short distance from the main village on the beach; every bush-house stands surrounded by a growth of carefully-tended crotons of extraordinary beauty and great variety of colour, and in the immediate vicinity is the owner's plantation of yams, taro, sugar-cane, bananas, and betel nuts.

In the course of an hour or two the Solomon islanders ceased firing, and then the two white men, looking out on the beach, saw a number of the beaten villagers fleeing down to the shore, about half a mile away, and endeavouring to launch canoes.

"By – !" exclaimed Kyte, "my fellows have outflanked them, and are driving them down to the beach. I might get some after all for the schooner. Will you lend me your boat's crew to head them off? They are going to try and get to Mau Island."

"No," said the Englishman, "I won't. If Pierre and the German are such idiots as to go shooting niggers in another man's quarrel, that's no reason why I should take a hand in it."

Kyte nodded good-humouredly, and seemed to abandon the idea; but he went into the house after a while, and came out again with a long Snider in his hand.

In a few minutes the Solomon islanders began to return in parties of two or three, then came the two white men, excited and panting with the lust of killing.

Kyte held a whispered consultation with one of his "boys," – a huge fellow, whose body was reeking with perspiration and blood from the scratches received in the thorny depths of the jungle, – and then pointed to the beach where four or five white-painted canoes had been launched, and were making for an opening in the reef. To reach this opening they would have to pass in front of the trader's house, for which they now headed.

Kyte waited a moment or two till the leading canoe was within four or five hundred yards, then he raised his rifle, and placing it across the stump of his left arm, fired. The ball plumped directly amidships, and two of the paddlers fell. The rest threw away their paddles and spears, and swam to the other canoes.

"Now we've got them," said Kyte, and taking about twenty of his boys, he manned his two boats and pulled out, intercepting the canoes before they could get through the reef into the open.

Then commenced an exciting chase. The refugees swam and dived about in the shallow water like frightened fish, but their pursuers were better men at that game than they, and of superior physique. In twenty minutes they were all captured, except one, who sprang over the edge of the reef into deep water and was shot swimming.

There were about five-and-twenty prisoners, and when they were brought back in the boats and taken on board the schooner it was found that the chief was among them. It may have occurred to him in the plantation life of the after time that he had better have stayed quiet. The Englishman, disgusted with the whole affair, went off with the other white men, leaving his boat's crew for safety in the trader's house, for had the Solomon islanders seen them they would have made quick work of them, or else Kyte, to save their lives, would have offered to take them as recruits.

The two other traders decided to leave in the schooner. They had made the locality too warm for themselves, and urged the Englishman to follow their example.

"No," he said, "I've been a good while here now, and I've never shot a nigger yet for the fun of the thing. I'll take my chance with them for a bit longer. The chances are you fellows will get your throats cut before I do."

However, the schooner arrived safely at Samoa with her live cargo, but Kyte reported to his owners that it would not be advisable to recruit in New Britain for a year or two.

CHAPTER IX
HALCYON DAYS

We were now bound for Arrecifos Island, Hayston's central station, but had first to call at Pingelap and Strong's Island, where we were to land our cattle and ship a few tuns of oil.

Nine days after leaving Ponapé, as the sun broke through the tropic haze, the lookout reported smoke in sight. The Captain and I at once went aloft, and with our glasses made out a steamer a long distance off.

Hayston said he thought it was the Resacca, an American cruiser. Possibly she might overhaul us and take us into Ponapé. Unless the breeze freshened we could not get away from her.

We were heading N.N.E. close hauled, and the steamer appeared to be making for Ponapé. She was sure to see us within an hour unless she changed her course.

The Leonora was kept away a couple of points, but the wind was light, and we were only travelling about four knots.

At breakfast time we could see the man-of-war's spars from the deck, and the breeze was dying away. The Captain and I went on the foreyard and watched her.

She had not as yet changed her course, but apparently did not seem anxious to overtake us.

At length Hayston said with a laugh, as he took a long look at her, "All right, keep full, and by (to the man at the wheel) – , brace up the yards again, she doesn't want to stop us. It's that old Spanish gunboat from Manila, a 'side wheeler.' I was told she was coming down to Ponapé from Guam to look after some escaped Tagalau prisoners. She'd never catch us if she wanted to with anything like a breeze."

That night the Captain seemed greatly relieved. He told me that it would prove a bad business for him if an American cruiser took him; and although he did not anticipate meeting with one in these parts, he gave me full instructions how to act in the event of his seizure. He placed in my charge two bags of gold coin of two thousand dollars each, and a draft for a thousand dollars on Goddefroys' in Samoa.

After which he declared that the ship was getting dull lately, and ordered the steward's boy to beat the gong and call out the girls for a dance.

For the next hour or two wild merriment prevailed. Antonio, the Portuguese, with his violin, and the Captain with his flute, furnished the music, while half a dozen of the girls were soon dancing with some of the picturesque ruffians of the foc'sle.

For days and days we had scarcely shifted tack or sheet, so gentle and steady was the wind that filled our sails; but the easterly equatorial counter current that prevails in these calm seas was sweeping us steadily on towards Strong's Island at the rate of two or three knots an hour.

On some days we would lower a floating target and practise with the long gun carried amidships, on others the Captain and I would pass away an hour or two shooting at bottles with our rifles or revolvers.

Hayston was a splendid shot, and loud were the exclamations from the crew when he made an especially clever shot; at other times he would sit on the skylight, and with the girls around him, sewing or card-playing, tell me anecdotes of his career when in the service of the Chinese Government.

There were on board two children, a boy and girl – Toby and Kitty – natives of Arurai or Hope Island. They were the Captain's particular pets, in right of which he allowed them full liberty to tease any one on the ship.

He was strongly attached to these children, and often told me that he intended to provide for them.

Their father, who was one of his boat's crew, had fallen at his side when the natives of the island had boarded the vessel. On his next cruise he called at Arurai and took them on board, the head chief freely giving his permission to adopt them. I mention this boy and girl more particularly, because the American missionaries had often stated in the Honolulu journals "that Hayston had kidnapped them after having killed their father."

His story was that on his first visit to the Pelew Islands with Captain Peese, the vessel they owned, a small brigantine, was attacked by the natives in the most daring manner, although the boarding nettings were up and every preparation made to repel them.

He had with him ten seamen – mostly Japanese. Captain Peese was acting as first mate. An intelligent writer has described these Pelew islanders, the countrymen of the young Prince Lee Boo, whose death in England caused genuine sorrow, as "delicate in their sentiments, friendly in their disposition, and, in short, a people that do honour to the human race."

The Captain's description of the undaunted manner in which fifty of these noble islanders climbed up the side of the brigantine, and slashed away at the nettings with their heavy swords, was truly graphic. Stripped to the waist they fought gallantly and unflinchingly, though twelve of their number had been killed by the fire of musketry from the brigantine. One of them had seized Captain Peese by his beard, and, dragging him to the side, stabbed him in the neck, and threw him into the prahu alongside, where his head would have soon left his body, when Hayston and a Japanese sailor dashed over after him, and killed the two natives that were holding him down, while another was about to decapitate him. At this stage three of the brigantine's crew lay dead and nearly all were wounded, Hayston having a fearful slash on the thigh.

There were seventeen islanders killed and many badly wounded before they gave up the attempt to cut off the vessel.

The father of Kitty and Toby was the steward. He had been fighting all through like a demon, having for his weapon a carpenter's squaring axe. He had cut one islander down with a fearful blow on the shoulder, which severed the arm, the limb falling on the deck, when he was attacked by three others. One of these was shot by a Japanese sailor, and another knocked down by the Captain, when the poor steward was thrust through from behind and died in a few minutes.

The Captain spoke highly of the courage and intelligence of the Pelew islanders, and said that the cause of the attack upon the vessel was that, being under the Portuguese flag – the brigantine was owned by merchants in Macao – the natives had sought to avenge the bombardment of one of their principal towns by two Portuguese gunboats a year previously.

Hayston afterwards established friendly relations with these very people who had attacked him, and six months afterwards slept ashore at their village alone and unarmed.

From that day his perfect safety was assured. He succeeded in gaining the friendship of the principal chiefs by selling them a hundred breech-loading rifles and ten thousand cartridges, giving them two years' time to pay for them. He also gave nearly a thousand dollars' worth of powder and cartridges to the relatives of the men killed in attempting to cut off the brigantine.

Such was one of the many romantic incidents in Hayston's career in the wild islands still further to the north-west. That he was a man of lion-like courage and marvellous resolution under the most desperate circumstances was known to all who ever sailed with him. Had not his recklessness and uncontrollable passions hurried him on to the commission of deeds that darkened for ever his good name, his splendid qualities would have earned him fame and fortune in any of those national enterprises which have in all ages transformed the adventurer into the hero.

One day, while we sat talking together, gazing upon the unruffled deep, – he had been explaining the theory of the ocean currents, as well as the electrical phenomena of the Caroline group, where thunder may be heard perhaps six times a year, and lightning seen not once, – I unthinkingly asked him why he did not commit his observations to paper, as I felt sure that the large amount of facts relating to the meteorology of the Pacific, of which he was possessed, would be most valuable, and as such secure fitting recognition by the scientific world.

He smiled bitterly, then answered, "Hilary, my boy, it is too late. I am an outlaw in fact, if not in name. The world's doors are closed, and society has turned its back on me. Out of ten professed friends nine are false, and would betray me to-morrow. When I think of what I once was, what I might have been, and to what I have now fallen, I am weary of existence. So I take the world as it comes, with neither hope nor fear for the morrow, knowing that if I do not make blue shark's meat, I am doomed to leave my bones on some coral islet."

And thus the days wore on. We still drifted under cloudless skies, over the unfretted surface of the blue Pacific, the brig's sails ever and anon swelling out in answer to the faint, mysterious breeze-whispers, to fall languidly back against her spars and cordage.

Passing the Nuknor or Monteverde Islands, discovered by Don Juan Monteverde in 1806, in the Spanish frigate La Pala, we sailed onward with the gentle N.E. trades to Overluk, and then to Losap. Like the people of Nuknor, the Losap islanders were a splendid race and most hospitable. Then we made the Mortlock group, once so dreaded by whaleships. These fierce and warlike islanders made most determined efforts to cut off the whaleships Dolly Primrose and Heavenly City. To us, however, they were most amiable in demeanour, and loud cries of welcome greeted the Captain from the crowd of canoes which swarmed around the brig.

Then commenced one of the reckless orgies with which the brig's crew were familiar. Glad to escape the scene, I left the brig and wandered about in the silent depths of the island forest.

The Captain here, as elsewhere, was evidently regarded as a visitor of immense importance, for as I passed through the thickly populated villages the people were cooking vast quantities of pigs, poultry, and pigeons.

The women and girls were decorating their persons with wreaths of flowers, and the warriors making preparations for a big dance to take place at night. I had brought my gun with me, and shot some of the magnificent pigeons which throng the island woods, which I presented to the native girls, a merry group of whom followed me with offerings of cocoa-nuts, and a native dish made of baked bananas, flavoured with the juice of the sugar-cane.

I could not have eaten a fiftieth part of what was offered, but as declining would have been regarded as a rudeness, I begged them to take it to the chief's house for me.

On my return a singular and characteristic scene presented itself. I could not help smiling as I thought what a shock it would have given many of my steady-going friends and relatives in Sydney, most of whom, if untravelled, resemble nothing so much as the inhabitants of English country towns, and are equally apt to be displeased at any departure from the British standard of manners and morals.

The Captain was seated on a mat in the great council-house of the tribe, talking business with a white-headed warrior, whom he introduced as the king of the Mortlock group. The women had decorated the Captain's neck and broad breast with wreaths – two girls were seated a little farther off, binding into his hat the tail-feathers of the tropic bird. He seemed in a merry mood, and whispering something to the old man, pointed to me.

In a moment a dozen young girls bounded up, and with laughing eyes and lips, commenced to circle around me in a measure, the native name of which means "a dance for a husband."

They formed a pretty enough picture, with their waving arms and flowing flower-crowned hair. I plead guilty to applauding vociferously, and rewarding them with a quantity of the small red beads which the Mortlock girls sew into their head-dresses.

Thus, with but slight variations, our life flowed, if monotonously, pleasantly, even luxuriously on – as we sailed to and fro amid these charmed isles, from Namoluk to Truk, thence to the wondrously beautiful Royalist Islands, inhabited by a wild vigorous race. They also made much of us and gave dances and games in honour of our visit.

And still we sailed and sailed. Days passed, and weeks. Still glided we over the summer sea – still gazed we at a cloudless sky – still felt we the languorous, sighing breath of the soft South Pacific winds.

Day by day the same flock of predatory frigate birds skimmed and swept o'er the glittering ocean plain, while high overhead the wandering tropic birds hung motionless, with their scarlet tail-feathers floating like lance pennons in relief against the bright blue heavens.

Now, the Captain had all a true seaman's dislike to seeing a sea-bird shot. One day, off Ocean Island, Jansen, the mate, came out of the cabin with a long, smooth bore, which he proceeded to load with buck shot, glancing the while at two graceful tropic birds, which, with snow-white wings outspread, were poised in air directly over the deck, apparently looking down with wondering eye at the scene below.

"What are you going to shoot, Jansen?" inquired the Captain, in a mild voice.

The mate pointed to the birds, and remarked that his girl wanted the feathers for a head-dress. He was bringing the gun to his shoulder, when a quick "Put down that musket," nearly caused him to drop it.

"Jansen!" said the Captain, "please to remember this, – never let me see you or any other man shoot a sea-bird from the deck of this ship. Your girl can live without the feathers, I presume, and what is more to the point, I forbid you to do it."

The mate growled something in an undertone, and was turning away to his cabin, when Hayston sprang upon him like a panther, and seizing him by the throat, held him before him.

"By – ! Jansen," he said, "don't tempt me too far. I told you as civilly as possible not to shoot the birds – yet you turn away and mutter mutinously before my men. Listen to me! though you are no seaman, and a thorough 'soldier,' I treat you well for peace' sake. But once give me a sidelook, and as sure as God made me, I'll trice you up to the mainmast, and let a nigger flog you."

He released his hold of the mate's throat after this warning. The cowed bully staggered off towards his cabin. After which the Captain's mood changed with customary suddenness; he came aft, and began a game with Kitty and her brother – apparently having forgotten the very existence of Jansen.

The calm, bright weather still prevailed – the light air hardly filling our sails – the current doing all the work. When one afternoon, taking a look from aloft, I descried the loom of Kusaie or Strong's Island, on the farthest horizon.

"Land ho!" The watch below, just turning out, take up the cry as it goes from mouth to mouth on deck. Some of them gaze longingly, making calculations as to the amount of liberty they are likely to get, as well as the work that lies before them.

Early next morning we had drifted twenty miles nearer, whereupon the Captain decided to run round to the weather side of the island first, and interview the king, before going to Utwé or South harbour, where we proposed to do the most of our trading.

Suddenly, after breakfast, a serious disturbance arose between the Chinese carpenter and Bill Hicks, the fierce Fijian half-caste, who was second mate. The carpenter's provisional spouse was a handsome young woman from the Gilbert group, who rejoiced in the name of Ni-a-bon (Shades of Night). Of her, the carpenter, a tall, powerfully-built Chinaman, who had sailed for years with Hayston in the China Seas, was intensely jealous. So cunning, however, was she in evading suspicion, that though every one on board was aware of the state of affairs, her lawful protector suspected nothing.

However, on this particular morning, Nellie, the Hope Island girl, being reproved by the second mate for throwing pine apple and banana peel into the ship's dingey, flew into a violent rage, and told the carpenter that the second mate was stealing Ni-a-bon – and, moreover, had persuaded her to put something into his, the carpenter's, food, to make him "go maté," i. e. sicken and die.

Seizing an axe, the Chinaman sallied on deck, and commenced to exact satisfaction by aiming a blow at Ni-a-bon, who was playing cards with the other girls. The girl Mila averted the blow, and the whole pack fled shrieking to the Captain, who at once called upon Bill for explanation.

He did not deny the impeachment, and offered to fight the carpenter for Ni-a-bon. The Captain decided this to be eminently right and proper; but thought the carpenter was hardly a match for the mate with fists. Bill promptly suggested knives. This seemed to choke off the carpenter, as, amid howls from the women, he stepped back into his cabin, only to reappear in the doorway with a rifle, and to send a bullet at the mate's head, which missed him.

"At him, Billy," cried the Captain, "give him a good licking – but don't hurt his arms; there's a lot of work to be done to the bulwarks when we get the anchor down again."

The second mate at once seized the carpenter, and dragging him out of his cabin, in a few minutes had so knocked his features about that he was hardly recognisable.

Ni-a-bon was then called up before the Captain and questioned as to her preference, when, with many smiles and twisting about of her hands, she confessed to an ardent attachment to the herculean Bill.

The Captain told Bill that he would have to pay the carpenter for damages, which he assessed at ten dollars, the amount being given, not for personal injury, but for the loss sustained by his annexation of the fascinating Ni-a-bon.

At sunset we once more were off Chabral harbour, where we ran in and anchored —within fifty yards of the king's house.