Chapter 11 - Page 2

stole a glance seaward to where the Flibberty-
Gibbet reflected herself in the glassy calm of the sea. Not a soul
was visible under her awnings, and he saw the whale-boat was
missing from alongside. The Tahitians had evidently gone shooting
fish up the Balesuna. He was all alone in his high place above
this trouble, while his world slumbered peacefully under the
breathless tropic noon.

Nobody replied, and he repeated his demand, more of mastery in his
voice this time, and a hint of growing anger. The blacks moved
uneasily, like a herd of cattle, at the sound of his voice. But
not one spoke. All eyes, however, were staring at him in certitude
of expectancy. Something was about to happen, and they were
waiting for it, waiting with the unanimous, unstable mob-mind for
the one of them who would make the first action that would
precipitate all of them into a common action. Sheldon looked for
this one, for such was the one to fear. Directly beneath him he
caught sight of the muzzle of a rifle, barely projecting between
two black bodies, that was slowly elevating toward him. It was
held at the hip by a man in the second row.

"What name you?" Sheldon suddenly shouted, pointing directly at the
man who held the gun, who startled and lowered the muzzle.

Sheldon still held the whip hand, and he intended to keep it.

"Clear out, all you fella boys," he ordered. "Clear out and walk
along salt water. Savvee!"

"Me talk," spoke up a fat and filthy savage whose hairy chest was
caked with the unwashed dirt of years.

"Oh, is that you, Telepasse?" the white man queried genially. "You
tell 'm boys clear out, and you stop and talk along me."

"Him good fella boy," was the reply. "Him stop along."

"Well, what do you want?" Sheldon asked, striving to hide under
assumed carelessness the weakness of concession.

"That fella boy belong along me." The old chief pointed out
Gogoomy, whom Sheldon recognized.

"White Mary belong you too much no good," Telepasse went on. "Bang
'm head belong Gogoomy. Gogoomy all the same chief. Bimeby me
finish, Gogoomy big fella chief. White Mary bang 'm head. No
good. You pay me plenty tobacco, plenty powder, plenty calico."

"You old scoundrel," was Sheldon's comment. An hour before, he had
been chuckling over Joan's recital of the episode, and here, an
hour later, was Telepasse himself come to collect damages.

"Gogoomy," Sheldon ordered, "what name you walk about here? You
get along quarters plenty quick."

"Me stop," was the defiant answer.

"White Mary b'long you bang 'm head," old Telepasse began again.
"My word, plenty big fella trouble you no pay."

"You talk along boys," Sheldon said, with increasing