Part 1 (1/2)
Wild Justice: Stories of the South Seas
by Lloyd Osbourne
PREFACE
Deep in every heart there seeh in practice it is often an illusion, the South Seas lend themselves better to such dreams than any other part of the world There are fewer races ay and extraordinarily well-, and scarcely darker than Southern Europeans Some aspects of their life are truly poetic Half naked, with flowers in their hair, and just sufficient work to keep them in superb physical condition, they have an almost unlimited leisure to share with the wayfarer in their reatest of all human barriers, is nonexistent No people are cleaner; none have so intense a personal self-respect One wonders soe, and these in some ways his superiors
I went to the Pacific when I was a boy of twenty, reht For two years I sailed in various shi+ps, visiting not only all the principal groups, but stopping at many a lost little paradise like Manihiki, Nieue or Gente Herer is greeted with open are as only the very young can learn it, and incidentally had a sht into intimate contact with many powerful chiefs, and became so wholly a Samoan that I once barely escaped assassination I certainly have some claim to know South Sea life from the inside--from the native's side--and this must be my excuse for the present volume
That my stories should deal so often with the loves of white men and brooirl--that is the oldest story in the South Seas and the newest The children of the sun are very easy-going; their standards are not our standards; they live for the htly It is often the whiteeyes and radiant srets aith him; perhaps one of those inner wounds that never heal, while she marries a native missionary and lives happily ever afterwards Polynesians always live happily ever afterwards, nothem They probably have as ood hu acceptance of life, and if the need coe, all these, and h theaffection for them I shared their lives, their secrets, their happy days and their tragic days ”in the diao” I was the confidant in many a runaway match; was the writer of war epistles that the bearer was directed to eat if pursuit grew too hot; I had a little doe, living in a perpetual feud with its neighbors Was this really irded tappawith his brother chiefs in stately procession? Incredible--yet it was Was it I whose hand was kissed by this stalarrior who towards e-belt? Incredible--yet it was Was it really I, at the hel ht, halfway round Upolu? Incredible--yet it was
”Ina o mulumuluina o'u vae i le suasusu; na faapunaia mai foi e le papa tafe suauu ed to reissue the present volued by the addition of several new tales Whatever their demerits may be, my stories are at least true to a picturesque and little known life that is fast passing away
LLOYD OSBOURNE
THE RENEGADE
I
It o o'clock in the afternoon, and froe in the pass the German man-of-war struck the tih a lare; on the outer reef the long breakers foamed and tumbled, white as far as the eye could reach Froht_ a sailor, paint brush in hand, was sloearing out the day--a brown-bearded, straight-nosed, handsome man of thirty, his red shi+rt open to the waist, his bare ars of his brush Astride of his plank, which hung suspended in midair by a block and tackle at either end, the seaman faced the task that seemed to have no end For a week he had been at it, patch by patch, working his way round the bark, while the bells had struck on the man-of-war and the sun had risen and set
As he swept his brush across the blistered wall in front of hi more in store for hiun, a co other people's shi+ps, pulling other people's ropes, clinging at night on other people's yards to take in other people's sails, facing tempests and squalls, reefs, lee shores, and all the vicissitudes of the deep--for others! He laid down the brush beside him, and in a somber reverie looked toward Apia His eyes scarcely took in the bigger buildings that were dotted here and there round the circureat yelloarehouses of the Firm, the two hotels, the consulates, churches, and stores What attracted him, what held hih the green of trees and gardens, the tiny cottages on the outskirts of the town, or others still farther back, scattered and solitary on the wooded hills Was he, then, never to possess a house of his own nor a yard of earth? Was the sea, the accursed sea, to claim him till he died? What had he done, he asked himself, that others drew all the prizes and left him but the blanks--that they should stay ashore and prosper--that they should ed at sea alone? Those traders, clerks, saloon-keepers, those hts, smiths, and stevedores, how he envied theardens, their soft and co that made them so different from himself; he, the outcast, with no hos beside him
It was the sea, he said to hi; the sea, mother of all injustice and misery; the sea, whose service was to tie oneself to the devil's tail and whisk forever about the world, sweating in doldru yards, blinded, soaked, benuale above, death below
And yet even here there were soer prizes that even the sea itself could not withhold; prizes that he could never hope to touch--the coht to tread the quarter-deck, the handle to one's name How did they do it, these favored ones of fortune? How did Hansen, that stinking Dutchht_?--and that swine Bates, the ht, the second mate, a boy but twenty-two, yet whose foot was even now on the upward ladder
”Jack Wilson,” said the sailor to hi several times delivered hi heartiness of self-contean to whistle But the whistle died away again, for a little house was peeping through the trees at him, and he remembered how he had seen it fro at its foot, a cool, snug, inviting little house, with green blinds, a pigeon cote, and a flight of steps descending to the bathing pool How happy, no doubt, that fellar that owned it--a fellar with a regular job; a wife,in that there contraption under the o; a fellar, as like as not, no better than himself; and yet----!
”Jack,” he said huskily to himself, ”how the hell have you missed it all?”
”Women and drink,” came the answer ”Wo and wandering life how often had he been paid off; how often had he felt his pockets heavy with the gold so arduously toiled for; how often had he vowed to himself that this time he would keep it! And had he kept it? Never!
There had been windfalls, too; money that had come easily; double handfuls of litter Sixteen hundred dollars fro cruise; seven hundred dollars, his share for salvaging the derelict steaht and fourpence that the passengers had raised for hiold medal, and a fancy certificate with the British and Aone for a round of drinks and five dollars for a wench And the fancy certificate! Thunder! he had left it on the _Huascar_ when he had taken leg-bail of the Chilanean navy
”Woone, every dollar of it To the sharks and bloodsuckers of seaport towns; to the tawdry sisterhood that spun their nets for Jack ashore; to those wohed to see hi in the streets It was for these he worked, then! It was for these he was even thisthe bloody bark; for rumsellers and harlots! He repeated the words to himself as he looked at his torn nails and blackened hands For these--by God, for these! He felt within hireat revolt He would reforht When they were paid off at Portland there should be two hundred dollars co to him--two hundred dollars, et a shakedown in one of theht with ”Jesus, lover of my soul”
in worsted work above his blessed head, and in the in the day with gospel tea He would be a !