Part 40 (1/2)

There were two great carven figureheads guarding the gate, and Andrew Harben even saw the name under one of the down on this rascal crew _Witch of Dundee_ it said And where was the _Witch of Dundee_ now, and where all the heartysince Here were her bones, as left, and for theirs thethem on the mud flats at low tide

Well, Andrew Harben saw these things and he understood quick enough that the kindly Bugis were no more than wreck pirates who drove a rich trade whenever for any good and sufficient reason the light failed They must have been at it for years, very quiet and cautious so the keepers would have plenty of tiet eaten by the crocodile, as the skipper said Of course they would not kill the keepers in any uncrafty way lest the news should get out and spoil their graft, and a white round in any native country

However, they would havethere in the dusk, and they knew their gah the swaave them the slip and reached home a jump ahead They were not anxious to follohile he could sweep the bridge with his fowling piece and so they stood on the shore and howled

”Ya--ya!” they said, ry man He'd been pretty much fed up with natural history by this ti that flew or crawled in Borneo had sa all over Meanwhile he considered the wickedness of these Bugis that had been carrying on serial murder here all unbeknownst and how nearly they had added hi him for a scientist and a sucker And he considered too that he was now shut off frohts and what a responsibility of life and property rested on hiht of that,” he said, telling ht of that I juun was too hot to hold

Curse 'em! D'you know I had to take as left of ht?”

He would have given all the honorary letters of the alphabet for the use of a rifle, but he is roves and et hian to think so himself the next day when his water ran out The tender was due in three , with nursing But he would be dead a dozen ti toward evening he couldn't stand it any more The woods were quiet and there was just a chance that the ene He took a pail and sneaked ashore over his bridge to the water barrel under the roves that they had always kept filled for hiot to cut off supplies--the barrel was bri He drunk a pailful on the spot and started back with another,--and he got as far as his shack before he collapsed, all curled up in knots quite picturesque Those siabout klang, as Andrew Harben told me, that it will mostly kill a brown man and seldom a white, but if it does not it sends him crazy By that he meant crazy in the Malay hich is quite different The klang did not kill Andrew Harben It laid him cold at first, and for many hours he lay without sense or speech

When he came to be was stretched in a corner of the shack The cupola overhead was dark and the shack was dark except for one tiny dish lamp on the floor, and around and about squatted the tribe of Allo having a high old ti hopeful of a chance to swi as raising in the Strait and the waves roared and bubbled underneath ais watched for results By way of keeping their patience they were at the pickle bottles, being hindered not at all by the curious specihly pleased with the alcohol It is another singular thing that if klang was not made for a white man alcohol was never made for a brown

Andrew Harben roused up in the corner where they'd chucked hiator for breakfast He saw the so very joyful, and he saw soh the smother off to ard toward Celebes he saw the twinkle of at least two shi+ps standing offthe reefs and currents they couldn't place These shi+ps were going down to his account because his lights were out Andup the lantern wicks

Yes, that was just what they were doing They had took out the wicks so there should be no ht at any price They had snaffled the poor little shreds that Andrew Harben had made at the expense of decency--his wicks, his precious wicks! They tossed the strands about, and the wind snatched thehed

”Ya--ya!” they said, which ood business

Andrew Harben rose up all so quietly in his corner Did I tell you he was a fine, bigmen--old Allo and his seven sons Before they noticed, he was able to reach his shotgun It was e, only the barrels, which furnished a short and very hefty club What happened after that nobody can say exactly Which perhaps is just as well, for it could not have been a pretty thing to see But Andrew Harben, as crazed with klang, ran ais, ere crazed with alcohol, and hthouse by Macassar And whencaot mad,” said the half-caste skipper when he climbed up to the shack in the smoky dao days ahead of ti few impediments to speak of and not much skin either; so he added: ”Anyways, you have not been eats by z'

crocodile”

”No,” said Andrew Harben, all unashaht, but ht?” asked the skipper ”I tell you I was out zere last night and z' light wass dark and z' devil walking abroad on z' waters Almost, almost ent ashore with zese dam currents But just as ould run on z' Poi Laut reef you lit up again Not one little ht? Why iss zis?”

”I lost my wicks!” said Andrew Harben, quite cool

”Loze z' wicks?” shouted the skipper ”For why have you lose z' wicks?

Did you find zeain?”

”Come and see,” said Andrew Harben

He took the skipper into the shack where the lights in the cupola were still burning broad and yellow They were eight in number, as I said, and no ain For every light there hung a Bugis fro hair of his head One lock of his hair held him up The rest isted into a cue and looped so that it floated in the oil tub and then passed through a burner

By the hand of Andrew Harben that did it, those eight Bugis were the wicks of Macassar that kept the strait clear!