Kitabı oku: «Tom Wallis: A Tale of the South Seas», sayfa 8

Maori Bill, whose own chest, with Tom's effects, had been sent on board the Leonie, shook hands with his captain and Mr. de Caen in silence, and then quietly walking through the men assembled on the main deck, descended to the boat in which the body of the mate was laid, lifted the rug which covered it, and pressed his face to the dead man's hand, and uttered a short tagi, or cry of mourning. Then returning to the deck, he stood awaiting the orders of his new captain.

As the two boats pulled quickly away towards the Lady Alicia, Hayes waved his hand to De Caen and Hawkins, and then beckoned to Maori Bill.

'Bill, come here. I want you to do the second mate's duty. He will take Mr. Kelly's place. I know that you are a good man, and will stand no nonsense. Stand by me, and I will stand by you. Call the hands aft.'

The crew trooped aft silently, and Hayes said, curtly-

'Men, this man here is the second mate now, instead of Mr. Harvey, who will take Mr. Kelly's place until Mr. Kelly is able for duty again. Remember that he is an officer now, and "Mr. Chester."'

Then, turning to a coloured man who was now doing duty as steward, 'Serve out some grog.'

Grog was served out liberally to the hands as they stood, and then Hayes brought the brig up a couple of points, so as to increase her speed. The breeze had now freshened, and for an hour or so the two vessels kept the same course.

As the sun began to dip into the western sea-rim, Hayes hove-to and hoisted the American colours half-mast. The Lady Alicia also brought to, and half-masted both British and French colours.

Standing in the waist with bared heads, Hayes and most of the crew waited till the bodies of the seven murdered men were brought from aft, and laid side by side on the deck. Then, as he said in low but distinct tones the words, 'We therefore commit these bodies to the deep, to be turned into corruption,' the canvas-shrouded forms were launched overboard in succession as quickly as possible.

Scarcely had the last body plunged towards its resting-place two thousand fathoms deep, when Hayes called out in a harsh voice-

'Turn to again, Mr. Harvey. East by south is the course. Steward, serve out some more grog to the men. Mr. Harvey, lower the colours, and then run them up again and dip to the Lady Alicia.'

He strode aft again, and Tom, lying and listening in his bunk in the deckhouse, heard him suddenly burst out into an awful torrent of blasphemy, cursing his ill-luck: his officers, who 'could let a lot of naked niggers take charge of the ship, and kill seven men who were as good and better men than any one of them,' and the crew themselves for being such a lazy, useless lot of loafers and dead-beats, who deserved to have their throats cut. And, he added savagely, he would show them what he thought of such a lot of crawling, useless 'soldiers,' who were not fit to be left in charge of a canal boat tied up to a horse's tail.

He ceased as suddenly as he began, and then coming to the door of the deckhouse, peered in and spoke to the fever-stricken and wounded men in such suave and kindly tones, that Tom could scarcely believe the evidence of his own senses.

'And how are you, my boy?' he said, coming over to him, and placing his hand on his knees with almost fatherly kindness. 'Do you think you can bear moving? I want to have you down in the cabin, where you will be more comfortable than in this house. You can lie on one of the transom lockers, where you will get plenty of air through the stern ports. The mate will be near you, and you and he will have to make a race to see who gets on his pins first.'

Tom smiled. 'Just as you please, sir; but I don't want to give too much trouble.'

Hayes nodded. 'That's all right. You're to be the leading invalid on board the Leonie, and all hands and the cook are to stand by and wait on you.' Stepping outside, he called out-

'Send a couple of hands here, Mr. Harvey, to carry Mr. Wallis below; and tell Charlie to come here.'

'Charlie' was the sailor with the injured arm, who, as soon as Tom was lifted out of his bunk, appeared with his arm in a sling, contentedly smoking a pipe.

'How are you, Charlie?' said Hayes.

'Right as rain, sir. I guess you've made a good job of it, sir,' indicating his arm. 'Hallo, young feller, how are you? Here, shake;' and he put out his left hand to Tom; 'my right arm is parcelled up like a half dollar roll of preserved Tahiti bananas. Young feller, I reckon thet you hev the makin's of a general in you. If it hadn't been for him, captain, I wouldn't be here now. He's grit to the backbone.'

Tom was lifted up carefully by two of the crew, and carried below to a comfortable, amply cushioned lounge on the transoms, where he was greeted by the sick mate, whose legs were so enormously swollen from the effects of fever and quinine that he was unable to stand. Otherwise he was perfectly sound, and in full possession of a truly remarkable fund of vituperative expressions, some of which, when he heard Tom let an expression of pain escape him, he hurled at the two men who brought him down. Neither of them, he asserted with many unnecessary oaths, had the strength to lift a sitting hen off her nest, nor the will to pull their mothers out of a fire; also that as soon as he 'got around' again he would haze their worthless lives out of their useless carcases for their clumsiness, and derive unalloyed pleasure from seeing them go over the side feet first with a round shot at their heels.

The men, both of whom were Chilenos, grinned and made no reply. They were used to him, for, ruffian and brute as he was to them occasionally, they yet had a liking for him, born out of their constant association with him in the face of danger and death. And Tom, though the man's language and merciless severity shocked and horrified him, later on learned to respect the many good traits in his character, chief of which were his unswerving devotion and loyalty to Hayes, his iron resolution and dauntless courage, and his restless, untiring energy and watchfulness in all that concerned his duty and care of the ship. Then, too, he had a sense of humour, grim enough, perhaps inborn, perhaps unconsciously acquired from Hayes, who, in his bursts of temper, would kick an offending seaman all round the deck, down the companion-way, and bawl out 'Arnica!' to the steward simultaneously.

Unable to sleep from the pain he suffered, Tom was rather glad than otherwise that the mate, from the same cause, was rather restless, and disposed to be very communicative. The night was brilliantly clear and bright from the light of myriad stars; and from the widely opened stern ports he and Tom, who were lying near each other, watched the bubble and boil of the phosphorescent water in the brig's wake as it went hissing astern. Mr. Kelly, in expectation of one of his frequent attacks of ague, was heavily wrapped up in blankets and rugs, so that only his face was visible.

'We have the breeze set steady now, I believe,' he said, 'and ought to sight Vanikoro in a couple of days. Were you a passenger on that brig?'

Tom gave him the history of his adventures, to which the American listened with great interest, and in return he gave Tom an account of the origin of the attempt to capture the Leonie by the natives.

When Hayes left to board the Lady Alicia the brig was in charge of the second mate, who had with him the carpenter and boatswain, the latter being stationed for'ard to watch the natives-about forty-who were on deck at the time. The chief mate himself, the third officer, and two boys who were suffering severely from fever, were lying down in the main cabin, and in the after deckhouse were two or three other sick men, and two more were lying on mats under the topgallant fo'c'sle, being attended to by Manuel, the half-caste Portuguese steward. On the topgallant fo'c'sle were two white seamen armed with rifles and cutlasses; another stood guard over the main hatchway, keeping watch upon the remaining hundred and eighty savages in their quarters in the 'tween decks, and two other men armed with cutlasses only were stationed one on each side of the deckhouse aft. Between the deckhouse and the bulwarks were two brass guns (heavily charged with slugs and bullets), but these had their housings on, on account of the rain-squalls, and were not instantly available at the moment they were wanted. The rest of the crew, who were not armed, but whose rifles and cutlasses were handy for use in the for'ard deckhouse, or in their own bunks, were dispersed about the decks, engaged in various work, utterly unsuspicious of any danger.

Suddenly, and in the midst of a heavy, drenching rain-squall, the forty natives on deck sprang upon the crew, killed the two sentries up for'ard and the one at the main hatch, and were instantly joined by many others from below, the poor seaman on guard there being cut down as he was attempting to unhook the ladder and drop it below. A third party, who had cut a hole through the forward bulkhead, made their way on deck through the fore-scuttle, and armed with tomahawks and clubs united with their fellows, and made a determined rush aft, driving before them most of the unarmed seamen. Fortunately, the men who were on sentry in the alley-ways beside the house made good use of their Sniders, and so gave their comrades time to obtain arms from both the deckhouse and main cabin. Then it was that the second mate succeeded in firing the two guns. The discharge from the first cut a lane through the swarming savages on the port side; the second, through being badly pointed in the mad confusion, did but little damage.

'Then,' added the mate,' you fellows came along; an' I guess I felt pleased. I couldn't get up to take part in the proceedin's myself-had to stay down here and load rifles and pass 'em up on deck. Anyway it's been a mighty bad business all round… Seven of our men gone, one of yours, and ninety valooable-'

'Don't,' said Tom shudderingly, covering his face with his hands; 'don't say any more-it was too horrible.'

The American desisted at once, when he saw how even the memory of the dreadful scenes affected the lad's mind.

The morning of the third day broke bright and glorious. Overhead a vault of cloudless blue, beneath, the gently heaving bosom of a sea shimmering and glinting and sparkling in the clear, warm sunshine, with here and there groups of white birds floating lazily upon its surface; five miles astern the high, wooded peaks of Vanikoro Island were fast changing their purple loom to a vivid green, as the wind dispelled the mountain mists of the past night.

With every stitch of her snowy canvas swelling to the sweet, cool breeze, the Leonie was cutting her way through the water at six knots, almost without noise. Aft, pacing the quarter deck on the weather side, Hayes, dressed as usual in linen pyjamas, and smoking his first cigar, was waiting for his coffee, and casting a look, now at the island abeam, and now aloft; then as his eye fell upon the end of the for'ard deckhouse, which faced the main hatch coamings, and he noticed anew its wrecked and shattered condition, caused by the fire of the guns, his features underwent such a sudden and ferocious change, that Maori Bill, whose watch it was on deck, turned his head away, and pretended not to notice. In a moment or two, however, the captain resumed his walk, but there played about his lips such a vicious, savage smile, that those who knew him, and had chanced to see it, would have known that there was mischief afloat.

Presently up came Tom from below, walking somewhat stiffly, and carrying two books in his hand.

'Well, Wallis, my boy, how are you this morning? Ready for your coffee, eh? What's that you have? – ah, La Pérouse's Voyage autour du Monde. Who gave you that? Can you read French?'

'Not very well, sir. Mr. de Caen gave me both La Pérouse's Voyage and this one, The Fate of La Pérouse, which is by Captain Dillon, and I am now reading about his discovery of the relics of the Boussole and Astrolabe, La Pérouse's ships, on Vanikoro in 1828.'

'Ha, I must read that. There's Vanikoro, my boy, over there, and that's where Jean François Galaup, Comte de la Pérouse, perished with every other living soul on board the two ships.'

Then, for the next twenty minutes, as he drank his coffee, he talked; now mentioning some wild adventure in the China seas, now sneering at Englishmen and their 'dull pig-headedness,' and then suddenly flying off at a tangent, and saying-

'Did you ever read that piece about Deering Woods by Longfellow? I know Deering Woods well, although I come from Cleveland City, on the Great Lakes. The smell of those woods is in my nostrils now, even after fifteen years.'

Presently the boatswain came aft, and said, 'There is a big nigger sulking, sir. He won't eat. Says he's sick.'

Hayes scowled. 'Shamming, I suppose?'

'Of course he is. He is the fellow who killed Manuel.'

'Ah!'-and the savage fury of the captain's voice made the blood in Tom's veins run cold-'that is that big buck who has been at the bottom of the mischief all along. Rout the whole lot of them up on deck; I'll give him some medicine anyway.'

Followed by two or three seamen, the boatswain descended to the 'tween decks, and in a few minutes the black 'cargo' of the Leonie was standing on the main deck. Out of the hundred and thirty who were left, many were wounded, either by bullet or cutlass; a dozen or so women, equally as savage and repulsive-looking as the men, grouped themselves together, and stared sullenly at the captain. Four of the men were handcuffed-these had been especially prominent in the outbreak, among them was the man whom the boatswain had reported as being sick. He was of herculean stature, and the natural ferocity of his aspect was heightened by his hideous red lips and black teeth, the result of chewing betelnut.

'Range them on both sides of the main hatch, Mr. Harvey,' said Hayes, producing a pocket-book, 'and tell every man that as I call his name he must step out and come aft.'

Then he began to call out the names, slowly and quietly. When no response was made, Harvey called out, 'Dead,' and he drew his pencil through the name.

When the last name on the list had been called, and the natives were grouped together aft, Hayes looked at them with a lowering brow. Then he motioned to Harvey.

'Come here, Harvey.'

Harvey stepped over to the captain, and for a few minutes the two conversed in low tones, the crew meanwhile, with loaded rifles, keeping a close watch upon the natives.

Then Harvey (the only man on board who could speak the New Ireland language) at Hayes's behest spoke to the sullen savages.

'The captain says this. He is stronger than you. You tried to kill us all. Now ninety of you have gone into the bellies of the sharks. Now, tell him who among you was the leader?'

There was no answer.

Hayes's face paled with anger. 'Tell them that I will take every one of them, one after another, and flog them until I am told who it was hatched the plot.'

Harvey repeated his words, but without effect.

'Take that fellow first,' said the captain, pointing to the native nearest to him, 'trice him up, and flog him until he speaks.'

Shuddering and sick at heart, Tom saw the man-a strong, well-built savage with a mop of hair twisted into hundreds of greasy curls-seized for punishment, and a sigh of relief escaped his lips when at the third or fourth lash he called out that he would tell.

Dewarrian, he said, was the man who had planned the attack. Dewarrian had killed many white men before, and so they listened to him.

Dewarrian, a big native, was brought before the captain by two seamen; Mr. Harvey stood with them to interpret.

'Dewarrian,' said Hayes, quietly, 'you ought to die. But there are too many blood-stains on this deck. So I will spare your life. Trice him up and give him six dozen. Then let the hands get breakfast.'

'Oh, captain, don't, please don't!' cried Tom. 'Can't you give him some other punishment? Do, I beg of you, let him off any further flogging.'

The passionate tone of entreaty that rang in his voice had its effect; and Hayes considered a moment.

'Very well, Tom, I'll let him off. Put him in irons again, Mr. Harvey, and send him below. I guess he's scared enough as it is.'

At breakfast Tom did not join the captain, who sat alone at the table, apparently not caring for the society of any one. During the rest of the day he scarcely spoke, even to his officers, though Mr. Kelly came and reported himself as fit for duty again. A curt nod was the only recognition he received.

Then followed days of weariness and vexation to all, for the wind failed, and a long calm ensued, and the captain gave way to such mad bursts of rage, that Tom began to sicken of the Leonie and her strange master. One night he spoke to Maori Bill on the matter.

'So am I sick of it,' said the seaman. 'I've sailed in a good many rough ships in my time, Tom; but this brig is the worst of any, and Hayes is more of a devil than a man. Look how he treats his men! – sometimes so nice and soft to them that you'd think butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, and the next minute he knocks a man down senseless. And the curse of God is on this labour trade, for, although Hayes treats these savages pretty well, he only does so because he wants to land them in prime condition in Samoa. It's slavery, Tom, that's what it is, and nothing else. These poor beggars think that they are only going to Samoa to work on the German plantations for three years-they'll be lucky if they see their own country again in seven.'

'How cruel! But can nothing be done for them? Will not the Samoan Government protect them?'

'There's no government there worth speaking of-only the three consuls: German, Yankee, and English, who help the native king to pay the police, that's all.¹ And the big German planting firms can do just as they please in Samoa; they pretty well rule the country.'

'Don't the missionaries interfere?'

'No, sir. How could they? Samoa is a no-man's land, and if an English missionary were to try to get in on to one of the big plantations, just to see how the natives were being treated, he'd get into a lot of trouble. His own Consul would round on him and threaten him with all sorts of penalties, and half a dozen of the British storekeepers in Africa would write a letter to the Governor of New South Wales saying that the missionaries were again inciting the imported natives to rebel against their masters, and bring about bloodshed. It's just this way, Tom: the planters in Samoa say they cannot carry on unless they have coloured labour from the other islands, and the storekeepers say the same, and the two together work dead against the missionaries. They do the same thing in Fiji. The cotton planter, and the sugar planter, and the big storekeeper all work together to keep the labour trade, as they call it, going; but I call it slavery. The missionaries and a few other white men want to see it swept away, and swept away it ought to be. But we mustn't stand talking here any longer. This is a dangerous ship, and we must be careful. Good night, sir.'

CHAPTER X
TOM AND MAORI BILL GO ON A BOAT VOYAGE

In the tenth day after sighting and dropping Vanikoro, and when the beautiful islands of Fotuna and Alofi, two of the gems of the Pacific, were plainly visible from the deck, Hayes came up from below in unusually good temper.

'Mr. Kelly, I'm going to run into Singavi Harbour on Fotuna to buy yams-a hundred tons, if I can get them. They will bring a thumping price in Samoa, and we can get them for almost nothing here, and clear over five thousand dollars.'

'Reckon thet will help you pull up some over them dead niggers.'

Hayes smiled pleasantly. 'Yes, it will about bring things even. Keep her head for that high peak on Fotuna. We'll be there early enough to start the natives digging this afternoon. Tom, you'll see some rare old trading now. Come and lend me a hand in the trade-room.'

The trade-room of the Leonie was on the port side of the main cabin; three of the state-rooms had been made into one, and shelves fitted all round. On the upper of these such articles as prints and calicoes were stored; the lower ones being filled with old-fashioned muskets, axes, tomahawks, 16-inch butcher-knives, pistols, and vast numbers of discarded short Enfield rifles with bayonets attached. On the deck were eight or ten huge tierces of negrohead tobacco, cases of gin, and kegs and boxes of powder.

Hayes, with Tom and a couple of the hands, were soon hard at work on a couple of tierces of tobacco, digging out the compact layers of the black, fragrant weed, pulling each stick apart, tying them up in bundles of ten, and passing them on deck, where they were placed in trade boxes. Then followed powder and bullets, caps, knives, bales of Turkey red twill and navy blue calico.

Hayes was in such an excellent humour that the work proceeded very pleasantly, and he talked with almost boyish exuberancy to Tom about the island of Fotuna and the natives. They were, he said, rather a saucy lot, and as he did not want to have his decks filled with three or four hundred of them, and run the risk of a fight occurring between them and his cargo of 'blackbirds,' he would do all the trading on shore, weigh the yams on the beach, and send them off in the boats to the ship.

'They are not a bad lot of people,' he added, 'although they are all good Catholics-that is, every man, woman, and child of them have crucifixes hanging round their necks-and all are born thieves. However, they know their mark, and won't try to rob me.'

Soon after dinner the Leonie sailed into a tiny little harbour under the shadow of Mount Schouten, and anchored within a few yards of the beach, and directly in front of the largest village on the island. Taking Tom with him, the captain at once went on shore, and interviewed the leading chief and the one white trader-an old white-headed Englishman, whom Tom learnt afterwards was an escaped convict. A bargain was soon made, as yams were very plentiful, no trading ship had touched at the island for many months, and the natives were eager to sell. The chief showed Hayes some specimens of the yam crop-three enormous vegetables, each of which weighed sixty or seventy pounds. Then a conch-shell was sounded, and the chief and his head men summoned the people together, and ordered them to begin digging the yams at once.

Promising to bring the trade ashore at daylight, and begin weighing the yams, Hayes, accompanied by the chief and the old trader-who seemed a respectable, quiet-mannered man-returned to the ship, leaving Tom to enjoy a few hours' pigeon-shooting along the sides of the forest-clad mountain.

The birds were uttering their deep crooing notes everywhere around him, as they fed upon the scarlet berries of the lofty maso'i trees, and the native lad who came with Tom as guide soon had eight or nine brace of the fat, heavy birds to carry. Returning by the banks of a noisy mountain stream, Tom threw himself down beside a deep crystal pool to rest, whilst the lithe, bronze-skinned native, whose only garment was a girdle of grass, ascended a coco-nut tree for some young drinking nuts. The largest of these he quickly husked with his sharp white teeth, and handed it to Tom to drink. As he drank he heard a footstep near, and looking up he saw standing beside him a man dressed in the habit of a priest. He saluted Tom politely, told him that he was Père Serge, one of the two priests living on the island, made a few inquiries about the Leonie, frowned expressively when he heard the name of Captain Hayes, but then said, cordially enough, that he would be pleased if Tom would visit him.

'Thank you,' said Tom, 'I shall be very pleased to come to-morrow, if the captain does not want me on board.'

'But you surely are not a sailor, and an officer; no, you cannot be, you are too young?' inquired the priest in his clear English.

'I am a passenger, sir.'

The père held up his hands. 'A passenger with such a captain, and on such a ship! Ah! my poor sir, you have fallen into bad hands, I fear;' and then noticing the sudden flush on Tom's cheeks, he added hurriedly, 'But never mind Captain Hayes. I shall be glad if you will come to me. And at my mission, two miles from here, there are many more pigeons than there are at Singavi, and the waters of this little river here are full of very nice fish. You shall fish and shoot, and tell me of your travels;' and he smiled as he held out his hand. 'You will not forget to come?'

As soon as Tom returned on board he found the captain, the old trader, and Mr. Kelly all seated together on the quarter deck, drinking, smoking, and chatting. He was pleased to see that nearly every one of the 'blackbirds' were also on deck, devouring with great gusto baked pork, fish, taro, and yams, which Hayes had bought for them from the Singavi natives. Great piles of young coco-nuts were everywhere lying about the deck, mingled with bunches of bananas, pineapples, and baskets of sun-dried oranges-the latter being left untouched, as the 'blackbirds,' never having seen an orange before, would not eat them. They were all talking, and shouting, and eating at such a rate that Tom was astonished; and his astonishment was increased when he noticed that none of the brig's crew were armed, and that the usual guard were up for'ard, smoking and playing cards.

As he was washing his hands in the cabin, Mr. Harvey, a young, hard-faced, silent man of about thirty, with whom Tom seldom exchanged a word, came below and sat down and began filling his pipe.

'What do you think of the happy-family party on deck, Mr. Wallis? I mean the woolly-haired, black-toothed crowd.'

'Don't they seem jolly, Mr. Harvey? And they have the run of the deck, too.'

Harvey laughed in his quiet way. 'They're all right. Did you notice those two big iron pots with fires lit under them, on shore, just outside the trader's house?'

'Yes, I did. Whaler's try-pots, aren't they? What is boiling in them?'

Harvey nodded. 'Only water. They belonged to the Comboy, a New Bedford whaleship, which went ashore here a good many years ago-before you were born. Well, about an hour ago the skipper called our "blackbirds" together, and solemnly told them that the pots are used by the Fotuna natives to cook strangers in, and that fires had been lighted under them in the hope that Hayes would sell a few of his passengers every day to make a feast. It just scared the life out of them, especially as an old French priest happened to pass along the beach at that time, followed by a lot of converts dressed in white sulus; Hayes pointed him out to them, and said he was the principal "devil doctor" who, with his gang of meat carvers, had come down to the beach to see if there was any meat ready.'

Tom laughed. 'It's funny; but do the "blackbirds" believe it?'

'Rather. And as long as we are at this island we shall have no trouble with our cargo of niggers. They think that they would be killed, cut up, put into those pots, and eaten by the Fotuna natives in a brace of shakes, if Hayes gets mad with them. Oh, it's a mighty smart trick, and saves the hands a lot of trouble.'

'But don't you think, Mr. Harvey, that it is rather a mean sort of trick? The Catholic priests here have done a lot of good to the natives, and redeemed them from their savage customs, have they not? Mr. Collier said that of them.'

Harvey laughed scornfully. 'I'm a "holy Roman," lad-born and bred-but I've sailed the South Seas for twenty years, and I know as much about missionaries as any man, and I tell you this-these French priests here have done a lot of good, in many ways; and yet these Fotuna natives are taught to believe that all white men who are not Roman Catholics will be damned.'

'Are you sure, Mr. Harvey?'

'Sure!'-and the stern-faced young officer dashed his clenched hand down upon the cabin table-'sure! My boy, you will learn a lot before you get back to your home again in Australia. Wait till we get to Samoa, and there you will see what the Protestant missionaries have done, and what the French priests have done, and you can size up the work of both alongside, and draw your own conclusions. I am, as I said just now, a Roman Catholic, but I know a lot about the way in which the French priests "Christianize" the natives of these islands, and I despise many of their ways. They have come to the South Seas under the protection of the British flag, in British ships, following in the wake of English missionaries who have done all the hard graft, and then they teach their converts to hate and despise everything that is English and Protestant-from the pennant of an admiral to the jibsheet-block of a British trading schooner.'

'Poor Mr. Collier told me that the French missionaries, although they cause a great deal of trouble, are very good men, Mr. Harvey.'

'Good men! Ay. Guess they're good enough in some ways. They build their own churches and live like the Kanakas themselves, and I allow they don't go in for making dollars. But they poison the native mind against everything that is British or American. Why, three years ago, when I was in Wallis Island, I went ashore to church, and the priest there gave me a bundle of school primers printed in Samoan, and asked me to spread 'em around amongst the natives in the Tokelau Group, on account of the pictures.'

'Pictures?'

'Ay, pictures-pictures that would just grip the fancy of nine out of every ten Kanakas; pictures showing how the cruel and wicked lotu Peretania(Protestant faith) was sending people to hell; pictures showing an English missionary chasing a native woman-with thundering lies printed at the foot; pictures showing Jesus Christ and the Virgin Mary dressed in store clothes.'²

'Oh, stop, Mr. Harvey, stop! Don't speak like that! Don't laugh so mockingly when you name our Saviour!'

'Mockingly, Tom? No! I'm a rough sailor, and a fit man to be an officer for such a hell afloat as the brig Leonie. I'm as bad as any man can be morally, but I am no mocker of sacred things.'