Part 27 (2/2)
”That feller'd eat a rattlesnake,” gasped Captain Scraggs. ”Shoot him, Gib, if he bats an eye.”
”Shut up,” said the commodore, a trifle testily; ”that's the number-one n.i.g.g.e.r, who does the talkin'. h.e.l.lo, boy.”
”h.e.l.lo, cap'n,” replied the savage, and salaamed gravely. ”You likee buy chicken, buy pig? Maybe you say come 'board, I talk. Me very good friend white master.”
”Bless my sweet-scented soul!” gasped the commodore. ”What won't them missionaries do next? Cut off my ears if this n.i.g.g.e.r ain't civilized!” He beckoned to the canoe and it shot alongside, and its brown crew came climbing over the rail of the _Maggie II_.
Mr. Gibney met the spokesman at the rail and they rubbed noses very solemnly, after the manner of salutation in Kandavu. Captain Scraggs bustled forward, full of importance.
”Interduce me, Gib,” he said amiably, and then, while Mr. Gibney favoured him with a sour glance, Captain Scraggs stuck out his hand and shook briskly with the native.
”Happy to make your acquaintance,” he said. ”Scraggs is my name, sir. Shake hands with McGuffey, our chief engineer. Hope you left all the folks at home well. What'd you say your name was?”
The islander hadn't said his name was anything, but he grinned now and replied that it was Tabu-Tabu.
”Well, my bucko,” muttered McGuffey, who always drew the colour line, ”I'm glad to hear that. But you ain't the only thing that's taboo around this packet. You can jest check that war club with the first mate, pendin' our better acquaintance. Hand it over, you black beggar, or I'll hit you a swat in the ear that'll hurt all your relations. And hereafter, Scraggsy, just keep your n.i.g.g.e.r friends to yourself. I ain't waxin' effusive over this savage, and it's agin my principles ever to shake hands with a coloured man. This chap's a d.a.m.ned ugly customer, and you take my word for it.”
Tabu-Tabu grinned again, walked to the rail, and tossed his war club down into the canoe.
”Me good missionary boy,” he said rather humbly.
”McGuffey, my _dear_ boy,” protested Captain Scraggs, ”don't be so doggone rude. You might hurt this poor lad's feelin's. Of course he's only a simple native n.i.g.g.e.r, but even a dawg has feelin's. You----”
”A-r-r-rh!” snarled McGuffey.
”You two belay talkin' and snappin' at each other,” commanded Mr.
Gibney, ”an' leave all bargainin' to me. This boy is all right and we'll get along first rate if you two just haul s.h.i.+p and do somethin' useful besides b.u.t.tin' in on your superior officer.
Come along, Tabu-Tabu. Makee little eat down in cabin. You talkee captain.”
”Gib, my _dear_ boy,” sputtered Captain Scraggs, bursting with curiosity, following the commodore's reappearance on deck, ”whatever's in the wind?”
”Money--fortune,” said Mr. Gibney solemnly.
McGuffey edged up and eyed the commodore seriously. ”Sure there ain't a little fightin' mixed up in it?” he asked.
”Not a bit of it,” replied Mr. Gibney. ”You're as safe on Kandavu as if you was in church. This Tabu kid is sort of prime minister to the king, with a heap of influence at court. The crew of a British cruiser stole him for a galley police when he was a kid, and he got civilized and learned to talk English. He was a cannibal in them days, but the chaplain aboard showed him how foolish it was to do such things, and finally Tabu-Tabu got religion and asked as a special favour to be allowed to return to Kandavu to civilize his people. As a result of Tabu-Tabu's efforts, he tells me the king has concluded that when he eats a white man he's flyin' in the face of his own interests, and most generally a gunboat comes along in a few months and sh.e.l.ls the bush, and--well, anyhow, there ain't been a barbecue on Kandavu for ten years. It's a capital crime to eat a man now, and punishable by boilin' the offender alive in palm oil.”
”Well,” rumbled McGuffey, ”this Tabu-Tabu don't look much like a preacher, if you ask me. But how about this black coral?”
”Oh, I've ribbed up a deal with him,” said Mr. Gibney. ”He'll see that we get all the trade we can lug away. We're the first vessel that's touched here in two years, and they have a thunderin' lot of stuff on hand. Tabu's gone ash.o.r.e to talk the king into doin'
business with us. If he consents, we'll have him and Tabu-Tabu and three or four of the sub-chiefs aboard for dinner, or else he'll invite us ash.o.r.e for a big feed, and we'll have to go.”
”Supposin' this king don't care to have any truck with us?”
inquired McGuffey anxiously.
”In that case, Mac,” replied the commodore with a smile, ”we'll just naturally sh.e.l.l him out of house and home.”
”Well, then,” said McGuffey, ”let's get the guns ready. Somethin'
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