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Gabrielle of the Lagoon Part 14

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Just for a moment Bilboa renewed his intense scrutiny of the apprentice's face, then roared: "By G.o.d! Abducted by a Rajah, whipped off to a tambu temple to be sacrificed at the altar of one by name Macka Koo Raja-and she's haunted!" The big man roared the foregoing so loudly that Hillary thought he would awaken the whole towns.h.i.+p! But still the sailorman yelled on: "G.o.d d.a.m.n it, youngster, I've cuddled queens and princesses on a hundred heathen isles, but never has such a strange story come out of my wooing." Then he added swiftly: "Cheer up! I've had numerous abduction jobs both for and against: kings and queens have paid me in pearl and gold for such things, and never yet did I fail in finding a pretty maid's hiding-place or the weakness in a queen's virtue! I tell ye this-your Rajah Macka's done for! I'm his man." Saying this, he gave Hillary a quizzical look and continued: "You're sure the girl's not stealing a march on ye? She didn't run off on the abduction night in front of the Rajah, eh?" Before Hillary could give his emphatic a.s.surance in reply to this query the sailorman gave a huge grin and said: "What's the dear old pa think of it all? Worried much? Got cash?"

Whereupon Hillary at once told Bilbao how old Everard had promised to give anything up to a thousand pounds to anyone who would go to New Guinea in search of the girl.

The effect was magical: Bilbao's face flushed with rapturous thoughts; he blew clouds of tobacco smoke from his lips and chuckled: "I'm bound for New Guinea! Bound for a heathen, a Macka Rajah! Good old Macka-he's mine! He's destined to meet one by name Samuel Bilbao. I'll find him!

I'll claim the girl too!" he added, as he nudged Hillary in the ribs and winked. Following this sally, he gave the apprentice a tremendous thump on the back and said: "Youngster, don't get down in the mug; come to Parsons's parlour in the morning and we'll see what's best to be done to secure the girl."

Then he took the apprentice back into the grog bar and called for drinks. "Git it down," said he, as Hillary hesitated over the fiery liquor. And there for quite one hour the huge man told of his mighty deeds far and near, and multiplied his credentials, so that Hillary might not go off seeking someone else for the position which he, Ulysses, knew he was especially suited for.



Before Hillary departed for home Bilbao impressed upon him to be at the grog bar on the following morning.

Hillary could never remember how he got back to his lodgings that night.

All that he ever did know was that when he arrived in his small bedroom he imagined that Koo Macka lay helpless on the floor before his window.

Mango Pango, and two natives who slept just by, and the landlady rushed in in their night attire to see what was the matter, and found Hillary singing, "O! O! for Rio Grande!" as he swayed a big war-club and smashed an imaginary Rajah Macka's head into pulp.

In the morning Hillary made a thousand apologies to his native landlady and to pretty Mango Pango. Mango Pango graciously accepted each apology, and grinned with delight to think that at last the young Englishman had taken to drink, and that fun was going to begin as the craving strengthened.

As soon as Mango Pango had given Hillary his clean s.h.i.+rt and breakfast he got ready and then once more left his diggings, bound for Parsons's grog bar. When he arrived the sh.e.l.lbacks were very numerous, for a schooner had just put into Bougainville, and the crews were standing treat.

Samuel Bilbao met the apprentice in his usual volcanic style.

"Where's yer fiddle, youngster," said he, as though Hillary had come to perform violin solos.

"d.a.m.n it! Left it at yer lodgings?" Then he continued: "Why, bless me, you ask me to help you find a Macka, and rescue a beautiful--" He stopped short, thinking it would not do to let the bystanders know everything, and continued: "Go and fetch your fiddle, boy."

Hillary felt little inclination to play a fiddle, but there was something about the personality of that man that told him that if he asked a favour he expected it granted.

He soon returned with his violin, and it was a sight worth seeing to watch Samuel Bilbao's face as Hillary obediently performed the songs that he asked him to play. And as Hillary played that strange man lifted and moved his hands in rhythmic style, half closed his big-lidded eyes, looking most sentimental, as he drank in the melody and huge sips of rum.

"Play that again! Bewtif-ool! You're a genius," he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, as the sh.e.l.lbacks who stood round looked into one another's eyes in wonder to see a man who had confessed to such a past almost weep over an English song.

All was going merrily as a marriage bell in heathen-land when one by name Bill Bark appeared on the scene. He was a big gawk of a fellow, and lived mostly by cadging drinks. Going up to Hillary as he stood in the grog parlour playing his instrument, he deliberately knocked his bowing arm upwards.

"That's a silly joke," said the apprentice quietly. Then, as the aggressor used several foul epithets, Hillary continued: "You're an awful fool if you really think that your disgusting language is more attractive to these men standing here than my violin playing."

At this gracious compliment, paid to the listening sh.e.l.lbacks, traders and the three pretty native girls, the rough audience blushed. It really _was_ said so politely, so courteously, and reflected such credit on their musical taste that one or two of them took a huge sip from their gla.s.ses and bowed to Hillary.

Bill Bark felt extremely wild at the laughter that followed that invisible blush, and then once more knocked Hillary's bow-arm up, just as he had begun to play again.

"Why not be pleasant, friendly like?-though you're not much of a catch, even to look at," said Hillary in quiet tones as he stopped playing once more.

"'Ain't 'e soft-o!" said Bill Bark, _sotto voce_, to three boiled-looking sailormen who sat on tubs itching to see a fight.

As for Ulysses, who was watching the whole proceeding quietly, his face was a study. He had not travelled the South Seas for nothing; he saw further ahead than all the brains of Bougainville put together. He was peering steadfastly into Hillary's eyes. He seemed to be quite satisfied with what he found there, for he gave a tremendous guffaw, smacked his big knee and chuckled inwardly. He knew! Old Samuel Bilbao knew; "Knock the a.s.s's bow arm up again, Bill Bark! How dare he think your oaths are worse than his d.a.m.ned fiddling!"

Hillary noted the deep undertone of Ulysses's voice as he roared forth that demand to the loafer, and the apprentice felt gratified to hear the subtle note, for it told him that Ulysses, at least, knew that true pluck is always humble.

To Samuel Bilbao's immense delight, the loafer, Bill Bark, once more knocked Hillary's bow arm up again.

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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Gabrielle of the Lagoon Part 14 summary

You're reading Gabrielle of the Lagoon. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): A. Safroni Middleton. Already has 581 views.

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