Tom Wallis: A Tale of the South Seas
'I am so glad; perhaps we may meet my husband and child there.'
'Just what I said. Your husband wasn't likely to stay long at Port Kooringa. He would naturally try to get back to Samoa, where he had his trading station, as soon as he possibly could, if only to settle up his business before going to sea again. Now I shouldn't be a bit surprised if we hear that he has been there, and we'll know where he's gone to. Perhaps he may be there when we arrive.'
The wife's eyes lit up, and again a smile illumined her beautiful face. 'Ah, Captain Herrendeen, how you talk! If I were strong enough, I would just get up and dance with you and Solepa and Mr. Wallis. I'm a girl again to-day, and don't care what I do. Come here, Tom-I guess I won't say "Mr." any more-now stoop. Why, you're as tall as a man, and I shouldn't do it, but I just shall!' and putting her hands on Tom's cheeks, she kissed him half a dozen times, much to the amusement of Herrendeen and Solepa, the latter clapping her hands and crying, 'Malie, malie! Ua fia fia lau lotu, seula misi!'6
'Yes, Solepa. My heart is glad. So glad that I think sometimes everything is but a happy dream, and that to-morrow I shall awake to sorrow again,' said Mrs. Casalle, in English, as she raised her face to the captain.
'Well, I reckon when you look at me, Mrs. Casalle, and Tom, and Bill Chester here, and hear those darned old pumps agoing again, and have to eat salt pork and beans again for dinner, you'll conclude it isn't a dream,' said Herrendeen, with a kindly smile; 'and with this wind we can lay up pretty close to Fotuna, and ought to be there by to-morrow night, and then, while we're getting at this blamed leak, you can rest ashore, and try and pick up a bit. Ten days of a beat-if we have to beat-will bring us to Samoa, and then, Mrs. Casalle, if your husband is there, you just shall have a dance with me.'
'Indeed I shall. You, and Tom here, and you, Mr. Chester, and Mr. Burr, and every one on this ship who has been kind to me-and every one hasbeen kind to me-shall dance me off my feet.' She spoke merrily, but her voice trembled nevertheless, and ended in something like a sob, as she lay back on the lounge, and looked at them with eyes filled with happy tears.
By this time the boat had been hoisted in, and presently Maori Bill, lifting his cap to Mrs. Casalle, went down to the main deck, and picking up a bunch of young coco-nuts, brought them up on the poop, and placed them at Solepa's feet.
'These are for thee, O maid with the star-like eyes!' he said gravely to her in Samoan, 'but first let me offer one to the white lady.'
Mrs. Casalle started, and smiled as she heard him speak in Samoan, and then took from him and drank part of a nut which he opened and presented to her. Then she asked Tom to come below. 'You can stay here, Solepa,' she said in English to the girl, 'until I call you.'
Maori Bill, although usually slow of speech, was no laggard in love-making. Leaning against the fife-rail, he set to work without delay.
'From what part of Samoa do ye come?' he asked.
'From Leone in Tutuila, where my mistress lives. Why do ye ask?'
'Because thou must be my wife. I love thee. When we get to Samoa I shall ask for thee.'
'I shall say "No,"' said the girl, looking at him from the corner of her eye as she raised a coconut to her lips.
'Why? Am I ill-favoured? I will make thee a good husband. Many will envy thee.'
'Aue! Hear the man talk!' and Solepa rolled her eyes up at the sky. 'Tell me, how came ye to speak my tongue so well?'
'Such things are easy to me,' said Bill, affably; 'when we are married I shall teach thee to speak good English. We shall marry in Apia at the mission church; then thou shalt go to Tutuila with thy mistress, and wait till I return from Sydney. I have money saved up there. Then when I return I will buy a cutter, and trade on the coast. Hast many poor relations?'
'Not many.'
'That is good. It is a bad thing for a wife to have people who eat up her husband's substance. But yet I am not a mean man.'
'Why dost thou want me for wife?' said the girl, edging a little nearer to him, and looking up at his stalwart figure.
'Because I am a widower, and I have some money saved, and want to live in mine own house again. My dead wife was a girl of Thikombia in Fiji.'
'Pah!' said Solepa, turning down her lips in contempt. 'Ou te inoino fafine Viti, e matapua'a.'7
'True, very true,' said Bill, diplomatically, 'many of them be ugly; but she was not. She was beautiful; but yet not so beautiful as thee, Solepa.'
He took a silver ring off his little finger, and, stooping down, lifted her left hand.
'It is large for even the largest of thy fingers,' he said, placing it on; 'but when we get to Apia I shall buy thee one of gold. Art content to promise me?'
Solepa nodded placidly. 'Ay, I am content to wed thee; but not content to leave the white lady. I would be always tavini tausi tama (nurse) to her.'
Bill waved his hand magnificently. 'It may be that I shall let thee remain to serve her while I go to sea. But I cannot tell now. Try and please me, and all will be well.'
Then, filling his pipe, he strolled for'ard, to announce his engagement to Charlie, for whom he had conceived a liking.
During the morning Mrs. Casalle gave Tom an interesting account of her home in Leone Bay, on the Island of Tutuila. She had an ardent admiration of the Samoans generally, and of the girl Solepa she spoke in terms of absolute affection. 'She saved my life over and over again that dreadful night, Tom; for although I can swim unusually well for a white woman, I was dulled and paralyzed with fear. Then, when we reached Elizabeth Reef, she tended and nursed me back to life again, for I really was at the verge of death from exhaustion and grief. I do hope the poor girl's brother Salu was one of the boat's crew which reached Port Kooringa. She has fretted and grieved in silence, and until this morning has hardly mentioned his name, for fear it would add a fresh poignancy to my own constant and unhappy reflections.' She paused awhile, and then resumed, in brighter tones-
'And so, after all your own strange adventures, you are still bent on a sailor's life? Would it not be delightful if you could sail with my husband? He, of course, now that the Bandolier is lost, must get another ship.'
'I should be only too glad,' answered Tom, 'especially if Captain Casalle continues in the South Seas.'
'Well, we shall know before many months-perhaps weeks-are past. Of course you will have to go home first. Then you must come to us in Samoa. Now tell me something about that strange man, Captain Hayes. I have often heard of him from the natives, who always speak well of him. He sometimes visits Apia with a cargo of natives, but our home is sixty miles from there, so neither my husband nor myself have ever seen him.'
'He knew of Captain Casalle by name,' said Tom, who then gave her a description of Hayes himself, his ship's company, and the fight on board. Then he told her all about old Sam and his wonderful brig, at which she was greatly amused.
'I should like to meet the dear old fellow,' she exclaimed.
During the night the wind worked round two or three points, and enabled the barque to lay a direct course for Fotuna, and at daylight Singavi Harbour was plainly in sight, with the yellow-thatched huts peeping out among the bright green of the cocoa-palms.
As soon as the Adventurer was safely moored, the French priest whom Tom had met previously came on board. The old man was both surprised and pleased to see him again, and told him he had done wisely in returning to the island, instead of going on the boat to Fiji. Then Captain Herrendeen introduced him to Mrs. Casalle, briefly telling him her story. The priest was very sympathetic, and at once urged her and Tom to take up their abode at the mission until the Adventurer was ready for sea again.
'You need rest, oh, very much rest, and change of food, so that you may become strong again. And next to my own house there is a small school-house which you shall use as your own. It shall be made as comfortable as possible. We shall be most pleased. You are the first white lady we have seen at Fotuna for ten-no, twelve-years, and my people will be proud, I do assure you. Now I shall not delay, but return at once to prepare for you;' and hurriedly shaking hands with them, he bustled off ashore again.
By this time the decks were filled with natives of both sexes, all of whom crowded round Mrs. Casalle and Solepa, and gave utterance to expressions of sympathy, when the latter, speaking in Samoan, told them what had befallen her mistress and herself. Presents of fruit were brought to them in such profusion that within an hour or two the after deck was completely covered.
Early in the afternoon the mission boat came alongside, to take Mrs. Casalle, Solepa, and Tom to the mission station at Alō, as the journey over the mountain paths would have been more than the former could have accomplished. The Singavi people, however, who were jealous of Alō securing the tamaitai papalagi8 as a guest, urged her not to go in the boat, but let them carry her through the mountain forest on a litter. At length, after a violent dispute between the two parties, the Singavi natives gave way, on it being pointed out to them by Maori Bill that although the white lady, Tom, and the Samoan girl were going to Alō, the ship would remain at Singavi, and prove a considerable source of profit to them, as their services would be required to help in heaving her down. This ended matters satisfactorily, and bidding the kind-hearted captain and his officers good-bye for the present, Tom and Mrs. Casalle went off in the boat, the brown-skinned crew of which at once struck up a canoe song as they plunged their long, narrow-pointed canoe-paddles into the water.
'I'll come and see you in a few days,' called out Herrendeen, as the boat shot out through the opening in the reef.
Before starting to heave down the ship, came the tedious task of discharging over three hundred barrels of oil, and rafting them ashore; then the barque was taken in close under a rocky bluff, which offered excellent facilities to carry out the work in water as calm as a mill pond, and as clear as the purest crystal. The started butt-end was found and repaired, the ship righted again, and preparations made for re-shipping the oil by the morning of the fifth day.
That afternoon Herrendeen visited the mission house, where he found Mrs. Casalle and Solepa busy at work with two or three young native women, making dresses out of some more modestly coloured prints than those she had been able to obtain on the Adventurer, which were of the very brightest hue, being intended only for disposal to the colour-loving natives of the Moluccas, and other islands where the captain usually called to buy provisions during his cruise.
'We'll be ready for sea in another week,' he said, looking at his passenger with undisguised admiration. 'Why, Mrs. Casalle, my officers won't know you again, you look-' He was about to say 'so beautiful,' but stopped himself in time.
'Ten years younger, Captain Herrendeen, I hope you were going to say, but I'll be content if you say five,' she broke in, with a laugh. 'Have you seen Father Serge yet?'
'No, I came to see you first, of course; but here he comes. Where is Tom?'
Mrs. Casalle nodded her pretty head half a dozen times in rapid succession, and threw up her hands in affected indignation.
'Away, of course. He's never here between daylight and dark. If he's not out pig-hunting in the forest, he's away fishing in the middle of the ocean between here and Alofi. He's just deserted me altogether. Is not that so, father?' she said to the old priest, who with another Marist priest as old as himself just then entered the house to greet the captain.
'He is what you call a rambler, a rambler! Oh yes, a great rambler; but he is a good boy, madame, a good boy. Now will you not come with us, so that we may show our friend here all over our mission station?'
Just before supper at the mission house that evening, Tom, brown-faced, dirty, and panting, came staggering up the pebbled path with a turtle on his shoulder.
'We got three,' he said triumphantly, putting the creature down on the verandah, – 'and this is only the smallest. Hallo, captain, how are you?'
'Tom Wallis, you ought to have been born a Red Indian or a Samoan,' said Mrs. Casalle, laughingly.
'That's what my father has often said, Mrs. Casalle. And I believe he was right.'
CHAPTER XVIII
TOGETHER AT LAST
One afternoon, after more than two weeks had passed, the whaling barque still lay quietly at anchor in Singavi Harbour, ready for sea again, and waiting only for a breeze. For, soon after the repairs were finished, the trade-wind had flickered and died away, and a 'furious calm,' as Mr. Burr, the chief mate, called it, had set in, and seemed likely to continue. The captain had started off early the previous morning to walk to the mission house at Alō, and spend a day or two shooting with Tom and Maori Bill, for the natives had assured him that there was not the slightest chance of anything more than the very lightest airs from the eastward for many days to come, and he decided that it was better to be lying at anchor instead of drifting away to the westward. And so, although Mr. Burr and his fellow-officers, to whom an idle day was an abomination and a vexation of spirit, grumbled exceedingly, they had to admit that the 'old man' was right after all. The two damaged boats had been repaired, and were now, as well as the one obtained from Tom and Bill, fit to be lowered again, should whales be seen whilst the ship was at anchor. Look-outs had been stationed on two of the highest points of the island, and a series of smoke-signals arranged, so that if by good luck a whale or whales should be sighted from the mountains, the boats would know where to look for them, if they were not visible from the ship.
The day had been intensely hot, and at five o'clock Mr. Burr and the second mate, as they sat under the awning on the poop deck, were eating oranges and pineapples with a steady determination to do some kind of work.
Presently a canoe came off from the beach and brought off the shore look-outs, who duly came aft and reported.
'See anything, you fellows?' asked the mate, stabbing a pineapple through with his knife and drawing it to him.
'Saw 'bout nine or ten finbacks close in under the south point 'bout an hour ago,' drawled one of the look-outs.
'Finbacks is pizen, and ain't fit to be mentioned to a decent man. Snakes and finbacks air a curse to humanity. But if we hev to lie here and rot much longer, and one of them comes foolin' around, I'm going to put an iron into him, and let him tow me all around this island for forty days and forty nights. See any blackfish?'
'Nary one. But there's a ship way out to the northward. Saw her early this morning. Reckon she ain't much nearer now. 'Bout fifteen mile off now.'
Mr. Burr displayed a faint interest, and then, being a good-natured, thoughtful man, said to his subordinate-
'Like to take a boat and pull round to the mission house and tell the old man? If that ship is bound to Fiji, she'll most likely pass between here and Alofi, and maybe he or the little woman might want to send a letter. You can stay all night if you like.'
The second mate was only too glad to get away from the ship for a night; and soon after supper he called his boat's crew and started, secretly hoping that on the way back in the morning he might raise a whale.
As the boat rounded the southern point of the island, a gentle, cooling breath of air came from the eastward, and the mate sniffed it approvingly, not because it was laden with the sweet scent of maso'i, tamanu, and wild orange trees of the mountain forest, but because it felt to his cheeks as if it were the re-awakening to life again of the long-waited-for trade wind.
'Guess the captain won't do much gunning to-morrow,' he remarked in the condescending manner peculiar to whaleship officers, who in rare moments of relaxation unbend themselves sufficiently to make an observation to members of the crew not directly connected with their vocation. 'There's going to be a steady breeze before morning, in spite of what these copper-coloured Kanaka folks say. Give way, there. I'm mighty glad we came now. Maybe we'll get back again to-night.'
The officer's surmise seemed likely to prove correct, for by the time the boat was abreast of the mission station, and just as the evening fires of the natives were being lit, the breeze had certainly strengthened.
Landing directly in front of the white-walled church, the crew hauled the boat up on the soft white sand, and were soon surrounded by the usual crowd of inquisitive natives, while the mate walked on up the hill to the mission house, where he found his captain, Mrs. Casalle, and Tom at supper with the two old fathers.
'Mr. Burr reckoned he had better let you know that there is a ship in sight to the northward; the look-out saw her early this morning, and thinks she's coming this way. If so, she'll be in the straits here by midnight. And there's a steady breeze coming, captain; guess this eternal calm is about broke up.'
This latter news decided Captain Herrendeen to leave Alō as soon as the moon rose, which would be an hour before midnight, as he would thus have time to reach Singavi by daylight, get the ship under way and well out from the lee of the land as soon as possible; for should it fall calm again he would either have to anchor or tow back again, to avoid the strong westerly current. As for the vessel which the look-outs had sighted, he determined to speak her in the morning, if it could possibly be done.
His hospitable hosts, knowing his anxiety to put to sea again, did not persuade him to wait till morning; but, calling their servants, bade them carry down and fill the mission boat with fruit and vegetables for the use of the ship's company. Then, as there were still some hours before them, supper was proceeded with, and the rest of the evening was spent on the verandah.
At last the time came to say farewell. The moon had risen, and sent a long steady blade of light down the strait, the breeze was blowing fresh and cool and rustling the line of palms in the mission garden, and the two boats with their crews were waiting on the beach.
'Come, my friends,' said the older of the two missionaries to his guests, 'let us go. My brother Garnier and myself are not so old that we cannot walk down with you to the boat.'
As the little procession left the mission it was joined by some hundreds of young women and lads, who pressed forward to say good-bye to Mrs. Casalle and Solepa; many of them were unable to restrain their tears, and Tom could not help remarking upon their warm-hearted impulsiveness to Captain Herrendeen, adding that Hayes had told him that the Fotuna natives were inclined to be saucy and domineering.
'Ah,' said the old priest, who overheard him, 'but Captain Hayes did not understand the changes we have made here of late years. The Fotunans were always a more suspicious and irritable people than the other Polynesians; even now they do not take quickly to strangers like the Samoans or Tahitians, but that is because there is a strain of Papuan blood in them. And it is not more than twenty years ago since my predecessor, Père Channel, was beaten to death by their clubs here at Alō.'
They reached the boats, and then, almost in silence, Tom and Mrs. Casalle bade the good old men farewell.
'Farewell, madame; farewell, Tom!' murmured Père Serge, who was almost afraid to trust his own voice, as he took their hands in his; 'may Heaven protect you both! You have both suffered much, but now happiness is near to you. Think of us sometimes, living out our quiet lives on this lonely little island. And to you farewell, captain, and to you, sir, and to you,' as he held out his hand to Herrendeen, the second mate, and Maori Bill; 'may your voyage be a very happy, a very prosperous one! Perhaps in a year or two you may come to Fotuna again, and tell me that you have killed many whales.'
Another hand-grasp, and Mrs. Casalle and the captain took their seats in the whaler's boat, Bill-who contrived to get Solepa and Tom with him-took charge of the other, and the word was given to push off.
The priests, surrounded by their flock, stood watching on the beach, and then, as the boats cleared the reef and headed southward, Tom and the captain stood up and waved their hats. For some minutes the two black-garbed figures remained stationary, silhouetted against the white background of moonlit beach; then they turned and disappeared under the shadow of the palms.
When the boats were a few hundred yards beyond the barrier-reef the oars were taken in, the sails hoisted, and soon both were slipping quickly over the water, which, though ruffled by the gentle breeze, was very smooth. The mission boat, however, being both clumsy and heavily laden, dropped behind considerably, and gradually the voices of her native crew, who were singing merrily as they sailed, grew indistinct.
'We mustn't run away from them, Captain Herrendeen,' said Mrs. Casalle, quickly. 'Don't think me nervous, but even being in a boat now terrifies me, and Tom is such an awful boy. If it came on to blow hard, he would just be delighted. Why, as we were leaving I asked him to come with us, but he said he wanted to go with Mr. Chester, as they might pick up a turtle in the moonlight! And that boat is loaded down to the gunwales already. If they swamped'-she shuddered-'and anything happened to him, it would break my heart.'
Captain Herrendeen laughed, but lowered the peak of the mainsail, so as to decrease the speed of the boat.
'Why, he swims like a native, Mrs. Casalle, and would enjoy the thing; but there, we'll wait for them.'
'Thank you, captain. I know I'm silly, but I can't help it. And I was thinking of sharks. Oh! I saw such a dreadful thing once in the Paumotu Group, when a canoe full of people upset, on just such a moonlight night'-
'Hallo! what's that?' cried the second mate, as a report of a gun came from the other boat.
Herrendeen luffed, and looked astern at the same time.
'Tom's having a shot at nothing, to get rid of his superfluous energy-hallo! there's another,' as a flash and a second report came, followed by a hail.
'Why, they're hailing-the boat's filling, I expect! Down with the sail there, you men! We must pull up to her.'
The sail was quickly lowered, and the boat headed back under the long sweeping strokes of five oars. The mission boat, however, still came on, running steadily before the wind.
'What's the matter with you?' shouted Herrendeen, as he came within speaking distance.
'Nothing,' answered the Maori, 'but look over there, just under the shadow of the land. There's that ship, close in. We fired to make you bring to.'
A quick glance at the spot indicated showed Captain Herrendeen the vessel. She was rather more than a mile astern of both boats, and gradually overhauling them.
'She's coming down this way, sure enough,' he said to his second mate, 'and will be out through the straits by daylight if she's bound to the westward. Guess I'll hang on here a bit, and wait for her. You can go on, Bill, and tell Mr. Burr to heave short at daylight. I'll be along presently, as soon as I have spoken this ship, and find out where's she going. Mrs. Casalle, will you go in that boat or stay with me?'
'I'll stay with you, captain. Tom, you come too, please. Solepa, you can go on if you like.'
Tom, eager to get on board the strange ship, at once changed into the captain's boat, and Bill, with Solepa pretending to protest that she did not wish to reach the Adventurer before her mistress, at once went on, using both sail and paddles.
As the stranger was still a mile distant, Captain Herrendeen decided to pull up and meet her. By the manner in which she was running down the coast, it was evident that the master of her knew the island pretty well; and indeed as soon as she came abreast of the southern point she hauled her wind, and lay up along the western shore.
'That looks as if he was going into Singavi, Carey,' said Herrendeen to the second mate; 'but still he may not be. At the same time he's altogether too close. Give way, men, we'll soon be up to him. He'll lose most of the breeze, now he's rounded the corner.'
