Part 11 (1/2)

”Something must be done,” said Christian, with the air of a man whose mind wanders far away from the subject in hand.

”Kill them,” suggested McCoy.

”Yes,” said Quintal; ”I vote that we get up a grand hunt, run them to earth, and shoot them like dogs, as they are.”

”Not so easy as you think to hunt down such men among these wild and wooded hills,” said Young. ”Besides, it is only Talaloo who has threatened us; Timoa is guiltless, I think.”

”I'll tell you what we'll do, lads; we'll poison 'em,” said Williams.

”I've heard of such a thing bein' done at Otaheite by one of the women.

She knows how to get the poison from some sort of plant, I believe, and I'm pretty sure that Menalee will help us.”

The plan thus suggested was finally adopted. One of the women made three puddings, two of which were good, the third was poisoned. Menalee at once agreed to go to the fugitives, say he had stolen the puddings, and would be willing to share them. The two good puddings were to be given to Talaloo's wife and Timoa, the poisoned one to Talaloo himself.

For further security Menalee was to carry a pistol with him, and use it if necessary.

The a.s.sa.s.sin was not long in tracking out his countrymen.

”You bring us food?” said Talaloo.

”Yes, I have stolen it. Will you have some?”

They all accepted the puddings, and Timoa and the woman began to eat; but Talaloo was quick witted. He observed something unusual in Menalee's manner, suspected poison, and would not eat his pudding.

Laying it aside, he ate that of his wife along with her.

Menalee pretended not to notice this. After the others had done eating, he proposed that they should all go a little farther up into the bushes, where, he said, he had left his own wife among some breadfruit trees.

Talaloo agreeing to this, they rose and walked away. The footpath being narrow, they were obliged to go in single file. Menalee walked behind Talaloo. After having gone a few paces, the former drew his pistol, pointed it at the back of his countryman's head, and pulled the trigger, but it missed fire. Talaloo hearing the click, turned round, saw the pistol, and immediately fled; but his enemy was swift of foot, soon overtook him, and the two grappled. A severe struggle ensued, Timoa and the woman standing by and looking on, but rendering help to neither party.

The two combatants were pretty well matched. The pistol had fallen at the first onset, and for a few minutes it seemed doubtful which should prove the victor, as they swayed to and fro, straining their dark and sinewy forms in deadly conflict. At last the strength of Talaloo seemed to give way, but still he retained a vice-like grasp of his antagonist's right wrist.

”Won't you help me?” gasped Talaloo, turning an appealing glance on his wife.

”No,” cried Menalee, ”but she will help me to kill Talaloo.”

The hardened woman picked up the pistol, and going towards her husband struck him on the head. Menalee quickly finished with his knife what the murderess had begun.

For a few minutes the three stood looking at the murdered man in silence, when they returned to the settlement and told what they had done. But the a.s.sa.s.sin's work was not yet over. Another of the natives, named Ohoo, had fled to the woods, threatening vengeance against the white men. It was deemed necessary that he too should be killed, and Menalee was again found to be a willing instrument. Timoa, who had exhibited such callous indifference at the murder of Talaloo, was his fitting companion. They soon found Ohoo, and succeeded in killing him.

Strange to say, the mutineers, after these foul deeds, dwelt for a long time in comparative peace and harmony. It seemed as if their worst feelings had found full vent and been expended in the double murder. No doubt this state of hollow peace was partly owing to the fact that the native men, now being reduced to four in number, felt themselves to be unable to cope with their masters, and quietly submitted to the inevitable.

But by degrees the evil spirits in some of the party began to rea.s.sert their power. McCoy and Quintal in particular became very savage and cruel. They never hesitated to flog or knock down a native on the slightest pretext, insomuch that these unhappy men were again driven to plot the destruction of their masters. Adams, Christian, and Young were free from the stain of wanton cruelty. Young in particular was kind to the natives, and a favourite both with men and women.

CHAPTER TEN.

DANGERS, JOYS, TRIALS, AND MULTIPLICATION.

”I'm going to the cliffs to-day, Williams,” said Young one morning.

”Will you come?”