Part 14 (2/2)
It seemed incredible! The audience in the grog bar had never seen anything so sudden before-Bill Bark's two front teeth were missing! The scene inside the shanty reminded one of an exhibition of statuary done in marble and terra-cotta clays, so thunderstruck were they all. It was the beards and whiskers that spoilt the statuesque effect. For who ever saw marble statues with soft whiskers?-or smoke issuing from black-teethed mouths that gripped short clay pipes? The sh.e.l.lbacks, traders, Polynesian maids, indeed all had sprung to their feet and were staring in astonishment at the crimson fluid that poured from Bill Bark's wide-open, astonished mouth.
Hillary was the only one who appeared calm. He was methodically placing his violin carefully by the bar counter so that it should not get damaged in the coming fray. He thought of Gabrielle, and cursed his luck, as he slowly took off his coat. It seemed terrible to him that he had to conform to the ways of a materialistic world when he believed Gabrielle was a prisoner in a slave-s.h.i.+p on the high seas. So bitter were his feelings that he could have picked his violin up before them all and smashed it to smithereens on the bar, just to relieve his feelings.
Ulysses solemnly led the way as the whole company followed in glee to see the fight between the apprentice and Bill Bark under the palms outside the bar. At last the giant umpire tossed his antediluvian helmet hat right over the highest bread-fruit tree and shouted: ”Time, gents, time!” Bill Bark lay stiff on his back and looked straight up at the soft blue of the sky. And it was good to see the rapturous light in Ulysses' eyes as he stood there pulling his vand.y.k.e beard, his outstretched moustachios stiff with pride. It is certain that the apprentice had successfully revealed to Bill Bark the force of one great truth, a truth that no travelled man will deny: that often quiet-looking young men in the South Seas have been found to be endowed with a wonderful gift for fist repartee and a fine ability for getting their own back and keeping their features intact.
Had the apprentice accepted all the drink that was about after that fight he would have undoubtedly died of alcoholic poisoning and gone out of the story altogether. As it was, he seemed to have entered the realms of enchantment. He played the fiddle as the sh.e.l.lbacks and beachcombers danced. He had never seen such a strange lot of men dance together before. They were certainly a mixed crew, and represented the adventurous, rum-loving individuals of all nationalities. They blessed Hillary's generous soul as he shouted: ”Rum for six!” As they danced a jig on the bar floor they looked like some peculiar human rainbow of faded hues that had suddenly come out of the night of storm-stricken seas. It wasn't so much their eyes and rum-coloured noses as their skins that gave that peculiar impression. Yellow-skinned, tawny-skinned, greenish, brownish and bilious, saffron-hued reprobates they were. Some wore grizzled beards, some scarf-shaped beards knotted thickly at the throat and ta.s.selled at the ears; billy-goatee whiskers abounded-and couldn't they dance too!
”Tumpt-er-te-tumper-te tump-te tump!” the sea-boots went, as Hillary, bunched up in the corner, fiddled away and the beards and caps tossed in the dim light of the oil lamps. Then the chorus came:
”Blow! blow! and d.a.m.n yer eyes!
Haul the old gal by the leg!
And that's the way the money flies When we're out with Joan and Meg!”
And still they danced on, their chests and brawny arms visible, for they had long since cast their coats aside, owing to the terrific heat. The native men and women peeped through the open doorway in delighted astonishment to watch the dancing sailormen with the tattoo on their arms and chests.
Sarahs, Betsy Janes and romantic maids of Shanghai and Tokio were deeply engraved on their sunburnt skin: women they had loved and who had jilted them. One old man danced mournfully, his chin bent forward as he contemplated the pretty tattooed maid on his own chest and hummed in a melancholy fas.h.i.+on as he thought of-what? The apprentice continued to play, inspired by the s.h.i.+fting scene. Slowly the room became obscured as though by a ghostly mist. Then a puff of wind came through the door and blew three of the dancers away!-old beards, sea-boots, legs and melancholy eyes suddenly crumpled up, all blown away! Even the big substantial wooden bar faded and vanished like a dream!
When the apprentice awoke an hour or two later he found that most of his comrades slept. He took a deep drink from the water-jug, after which he realised that he must have had a good deal more to drink than was good for him.
CHAPTER X-THE WINE-DARK SEAS
On the evening of the day that followed Hillary's stand-up fight at the shanty he went off with Samuel Bilbao to visit Gabrielle's father.
”Must see the old man first, you know,” said Ulysses, as he chuckled over the immense possibilities that loomed before his all-embracing vision. He saw money as well as wild adventure ahead: ”A coastal native town in New Guinea! A beautiful maiden stolen, hidden away, abducted by a d.a.m.ned Macka Koo Rajah-and Samuel Bilbao hired to find her and pound old Macka to dust-splendid!” he chuckled, as he walked on under the palms, pulling his large viking-like moustachios.
Hillary glanced at the big man's flushed, happy face and thanked G.o.d that such hearts still existed, that men with Herculean frames longed to do unheard-of things quite outside the ordinary business of life.
Then, as Bilbao tugged his vand.y.k.e beard, chuckled and continued to roar over his own thoughts, Hillary said: ”Do be quiet; don't for heaven's sake mention anything about your discarded queens and melancholy kings.
You know Everard has been an old sailor and he consequently knows what men are.” Then the apprentice added, in soft tones: ”He might draw wrong conclusions as to your character and not be willing to trust you, you know.”
The big face expressed ma.s.sive disgust that such an ignoramus of a youth should dare advise such a one as he.
Hillary only smiled at seeing that look. He had read Ulysses like a book, and knew exactly how far to go.
”So here's where the old man's put up,” suddenly said Bilbao, as they stopped. They had arrived outside Everard's bungalow and Hillary softly opened the door.
Old Everard struggled from his chair and immediately lit the oil lamp, for it was nearly dark.
”Well, boy, 'eard anything about my Gabby?” he mumbled, as he struck matches, never looking behind him, since he thought that Hillary had returned alone. Then, getting no reply, he turned round and looked straight into Samuel Bilbao's eyes. He stared at the giant sailorman for quite ten seconds, as though a vision had suddenly come before him. Then he said: ”You!”
Bilbao stared also for ten seconds, then roared out: ”By thunder, it's you!”
”Who?” echoed Hillary's lips, as he surveyed the two men and wondered what next was going to happen. The two men, Bilbao and old Everard, had gripped hands!
It appeared that Samuel Bilbao had sailed as boatswain under Everard when he had been chief mate of a full-rigged s.h.i.+p in the Australian clipper line, about eleven years before.
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