Part 28 (1/2)
tells me these people ain't to be trusted, and I'm tellin' you right now, Gib, I won't sleep well to-night unless them two quarter gatlings and the Maxim-Vickers rapid-fire guns is mounted and ready for business.”
”All right, Mac,” replied Mr. Gibney, in the tone one uses when humouring a baby. ”Set 'em up if it'll make you feel more cheerful. Still, I don't see why you want to go actin' so foolish over nothin'.”
”Well, Gib,” replied the engineer, ”I may be crazy, but I ain't no fool, and if there's a dead whale around the s.h.i.+p, I can come pretty near smellin' it. I tell you, Gib, that Tabu-Tabu n.i.g.g.e.r had a look in his eye for all the world like a cur dog lickin' a bone. I ain't takin' no chances. My old man used to say: 'Bart, whatever you do, allers have an anchor out to windward.'”
”By the left hind leg of the Great Sacred Bull,” snapped Captain Scraggs, ”if you ain't enough to precipitate war.”
”War,” replied McGuffey, ”is my long suit--particularly war with native n.i.g.g.e.rs. I just naturally crave to punch the ear of anything darker than a Portugee. Remember how I cleaned out the police department of Panama?”
”Mount the guns if you're goin' to, Mac. If not, for the love of the Lord don't be demoralizin' the crew with this talk of war.
All I ask is that you set the guns up after I've finished my business here with Tabu-Tabu. He's been on a war vessel, and knows what guns are, and if he saw you mountin' them it might break up our friendly relations. He'll think we don't trust him.”
”Well, we don't,” replied McGuffey doggedly.
”Well, we do,” snapped Captain Scraggs.
There is always something connected with the use of that p.r.o.noun of kings which eats like a canker at the heart of men of the McGuffey breed. That officer now spat on the deck, in defiance of the rules of his superior officers, and glared at Captain Scraggs.
”Speak for yourself, you miserable little wart,” he roared. ”If you include me on that cannibal's visitin' list, and go to contradictin' me agin, I'll----”
”Mac,” interrupted Mr. Gibney angrily, ”control yourself. It's agin the rules to have rag-chewin' and backbitin' on the _Maggie II_. Remember our motto: 'All for one and one for all'----”
”Here comes that sneakin' bushy-headed murderer back to the vessel,” interrupted McGuffey. ”I wonder what devilment he's up to now.”
Mr. McGuffey was partly right, for in a few minutes Tabu-Tabu came alongside, climbed aboard, and salaamed. Mr. Gibney, fearful of McGuffey's inability to control his antipathy for the race, beckoned Captain Scraggs and Tabu-Tabu to follow him down into the cabin. Meanwhile, McGuffey contented himself by parading backward and forward across the fo'castle head with a Mauser rifle in the hollow of his arm and his person fairly bristling with pistols and cutla.s.ses. Whenever one of the flotilla of canoes hove to at a respectful distance, showed signs of crossing an imaginary deadline drawn by McGuffey, he would point his rifle at them and swear horribly. He scowled at Tabu-Tabu when that individual finally emerged from the conference with Mr. Gibney and Scraggs and went over the side to his waiting canoe.
”Well, what's in the wind this time?” inquired McGuffey.
”We're invited to a big feed with the king of Kandavu,” replied Captain Scraggs, as happy as a boy. ”Hop into a clean suit of ducks, Mac, and come along. Gib's goin' to broach a little keg of liquor and we'll make a night of it.”
”Good lord,” groaned McGuffey, ”does the man think I'm low enough to _eat_ with n.i.g.g.e.rs?”
”Leave him to his own devices,” said Mr. Gibney indulgently.
”Mac's just as Irish as if he'd been born in Dublin instead of his old man. n.o.body yet overcome the prejudice of an Irishman so we'll do the honours ourself, Scraggsy, old skittles, and leave Mac in charge of the s.h.i.+p.”
”Mind you're both back at a seasonable hour,” warned McGuffey.
”If you ain't, I'll suspect mischief and--say! Gib! Well, what's the use talkin' to a man with an imagination? Only if I have to go ash.o.r.e after you two, those islanders'll date time from my visit, and don't you forget it.”
It was nearing four o'clock that afternoon when Commodore Gibney and his navigating officer, Captain Scraggs, both faultlessly arrayed in Panama hats, white ducks, white canvas shoes, cut low, showing pink silk socks, and wearing broad, black silken sashes around their waists, climbed over the side into the whaleboat and were rowed ash.o.r.e in a manner befitting their rank. McGuffey stood at the rail and jeered them, for his democratic soul could take no cognizance of form or ceremony to a cannibal king, or at least a king but recently delivered from cannibalism.
CHAPTER XXIII
Upon arrival at the beach the two adventurers were met by a contingent of frightful-looking savages bearing long spears. As the procession formed around the two guests of honour and plunged into the bush, bound for the king's wari, two island maidens marched behind the two sea-dogs, waving huge palm-leaf fans, the better to make pa.s.sage a cool and comfortable one.
”By the G.o.ds of war, Gib, my _dear_ boy,” said the delighted Captain Scraggs, ”but this is cla.s.s, eh, Gib?”
”Every time,” responded the commodore. ”If that chuckle-headed McGuffey only had the sense to come along he might be enjoyin'