THE CALL OF THE SOUTH
By Louis Becke




THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

By Louis Becke

London, John Milne, 1908




CHAPTER I ~ PAUL, THE DIVER

"Feeling any better to-day, Paul?"

"Guess I'm getting round," and the big, bronzed-faced man raised
his eyes to mine as he lay under the awning on the after deck of his
pearling lugger. I sat down beside him and began to talk.

A mile away the white beach of a little, land-locked bay shimmered under
the morning sun, and the drooping fronds of the cocos hung listless and
silent, waiting for the rising of the south-east trade.

"Paul," I said, "it is very hot here. Come on shore with me to the
native village, where it is cooler, and I will make you a big drink of
lime-juice."

I helped him to rise--for he was weak from a bad attack of New Guinea
fever--and two of our native crew assisted him over the side into my
whaleboat. A quarter of an hour later we were seated on mats under the
shade of a great wild mango tree, drinking lime-juice and listening to
the lazy hum of the surf upon the reef, and the soft _croo, croo_ of
many "crested" pigeons in the branches above.

The place was a little bay in Callie Harbour on Admiralty Island in the
South Pacific; and Paul Fremont was one of our European divers. I was in
charge of the supply schooner which was tender to our fleet of pearling
luggers, and was the one man among us to whom the silent, taciturn Paul
would talk--sometimes.

And only sometimes, for usually Paul was too much occupied in his work
to say more than "Good-morning, boss," or "Good night," when, after he
had been disencumbered of his diving gear, he went aft to rest and smoke
his pipe. But one day, however, he went down in twenty-six fathoms,
stayed too long, and was brought up unconscious. The mate and I saw the
signals go up for assistance, hurried on board his lugger, and were just
in time to save his life.

Two days later he came on board the tender, shook hands in his silent,
undemonstrative way, and held out for my acceptance an old octagon
American fifty dollar gold piece.

"Got a gal, boss?" "I admitted that I had.

"Pure white, I mean. One thet you like well enough to marry?"

"I mean to try, Paul."

"In Samoa?"

"No--Australia."

"Guess I'd like you to give her this 'slug' I got it outer the wreck of
a ship that was sunk off Galveston in the 'sixties,' in the war."

It would have hurt him had I declined the gift. So I thanked him, and he
nodded silently, filled his pipe and went back to the _Montiara_.

Nearly a year passed before we met again, for his lugger and six others
went to New Guinea; and our next meeting was at Callie Harbour, where
I found him down with malarial fever. Again I became his doctor, and
ordered him to lie up.

He nodded.

"Guess I'll have ter, boss. But I jest hate loafin' around and seein'
the other divers bringin' up shell in easy water." For he was receiving
eighty pounds per month wages--diving or no diving--and hated to be
idle.

"Paul," I said, as we lay stretched out under the wild mango tree,
"would you mind telling me about that turn-up you had with the niggers
at New Ireland, six years ago."

"Ef you like, boss." Then he added that he did not care about talking
much at any time, as he was a mighty poor hand at the jaw-tackle.

"We were startin' tryin' some new ground between New Hanover and the
North Cape of New Ireland. There were only two luggers, and we had for
our store-ship a thirty-ton cutter. There were two white divers besides
me and one Manila man, and our crews were all natives of some sort
or another--Tokelaus, Manahikians and Hawaiians. The skipper of the
storeship was a Dutchman--a chicken-hearted swab, who turned green at
the sight of a nigger with a bunch of spears, or a club in his hand.
He used to turn-in with a brace of pistols in his belt and a Winchester
lying on the cabin table. At sea he would lose his funk, but whenever we
dropped anchor and natives came aboard his teeth would begin to chatter,
and he would just jump at his own shadder.

"We anchored in six fathoms, and in an hour or two we came across a good
patch of black-edge shell, and we began to get the boats and pumps ready
to start regular next morning. As I was boss, I had moored the cutter in
a well-sheltered nook under a high bluff, and the luggers near to her.
So far we had not seen any sign of natives--not even smoke--but knew
that there was a big village some miles away, out o' sight of us, an'
that the niggers were a bad lot, and would have a try at cuttin' off if
they saw a slant.

"Early next morning it set in to rain, with easterly squalls, and before
long I saw that there was like to be a week of it, and that we should
have to lie by and wait until it settled. About noon we sighted a dozen
white lime-painted canoes bearing down on us, and Horn, the Dutchman,
began to turn green as usual, and wanted me to heave up and clear out.
I set on him and said I wanted the niggers to come alongside, an' hev a
good look at us--they would see that we were a hard nut to crack if they
meant mischief.

"They came alongside, six or eight greasy-haired bucks in each
canoe--and asked for terbacker and knives in exchange for some pigs and
yams. I let twenty or so of 'em come aboard, bought their provisions,
and let 'em have a good look around. Their chief was a fat, bloated
feller, with a body like a barrel, and his face pitted with small-pox.
He told me that he was boss of all the place around us, and had some big
plantations about a mile back in the bush, just abreast of us, and that
he would let me have all the food I wanted. In five days or so, he said,
we should have fine weather for diving, and he and his crowd would help
me all they could.

"About a quarter of a mile away was a rocky little island of about five
acres in extent It had a few heavy trees on it, but no scrub, and there
were some abandoned fishermen's huts on the beach. I asked the fat hog
if I could use it as a shore station to overhaul our boats and diving
gear when necessary, and he agreed to let me use it as long as I liked
for three hundred sticks of terbacker and two muskets.

"They went off on shore again to the plantations, and in a little while
we saw smoke ascendin'--they were cookin' food, and repairing their
huts. Later on in the day they sent me a canoe load of yams, taro, and
other stuff for the men, and asked me to come ashore and look at the
village. I went, fur I knew that they would not try on any games so
soon.

"There were, in addition to the bucks, a lot of women and children
there, makin' thatch, cookin', and repairin' the pig-proof fencin'. I
stayed a bit, and then came on board again, an' we made snug for the
night.

"Next morning we landed on the island, repaired two of the huts, and
started mendin' sails, overhauling the boats, and doin' such work that
it was easier to do on shore than on board. Of course we kep' our arms
handy, and old Horn kep' a good watch on board--he dassent put foot on
shore himself--said he was skeered o' fever.

"The natives sent us plenty of food, and a good many of 'em loafed
around on the island, and some on board the luggers and cutter, cadgin'
fur terbacker and biscuit Of course they always carried their clubs and
spears with 'em, as is usual in New Ireland, but they were quiet and
civil enough. Every day canoes were passin' from where we lay to the
main village, and returnin' with other batches of bucks and women all
takin' spells at work; an' there was any amount o' drum beating and _duk
duk_{*} dancin', and old Horn shivered in his boots swearin' they were
comin' to wipe us out But my native crews and I and the other white
divers were used to the nigger customs at such times, and although
we kep' a good watch ashore and afloat, none o' us were afraid of any
trouble comin'.

     * The duk duk dance of Melanesia is merely a blackmailing
     ceremony by the men to obtain food from the women and the
     uninitiated.

"On the fifth night, I, another white diver, named Docky Mason, his
Samoan wife, and a Manahiki sailor named 'Star' were sleeping on shore
in one of the huts. In another hut were three or four New Ireland
niggers, who had brought us some fish and were going away again in the
mornin'.

"About ten o'clock the sky became as black as ink--a heavy blow was
comin' on, and we just had time to stow our loose gear up tidy, when the
wind came down from between the mountains with a roar like thunder, and
away went the roofs of the huts, and with it nearly everything around us
that was not too heavy to be carried away. My own boat, which was lying
on the beach, was lifted up bodily, sent flyin' into the water, and
carried out to sea.

"We tried to make out the cutter's and luggers' lights, but could see
nothing and every second the wind was yellin' louder and louder like
forty thousand cats gone mad, and the air was filled with sticks,
leaves, and sand, and I had a mighty great fear for my little fleet; fur
three miles away to the west, there was a long stretch o' reefs, an' I
was afraid they had dragged and would get mussed up.

"Thet's jest what did happen--though they cleared the reefs by the skin
of their teeth. The moment they began to drag, all three slipped. The
luggers stood away under the lee of New Ireland, stickin' in to the
land, and tryin' to bring to for shelter, but they were a hundred miles
away from me, down the coast, before they could bring-to and anchor,
for the blow had settled into a hurricane, and raised such a fearful sea
that they had to heave-to for twenty-four hours. It was two weeks before
we met again, after they had had to tow and 'sweep' back to my little
island, against a dead calm and a strong current, gettin' a whiff of a
land breeze at night now an' agin', which let 'em use their canvas. As
for the cutter, she ran before it for New Britain, and brought up at
Matupi in Blanche Bay, two hundred miles away, where old Horn knew
there was a white settlement of Germans--his own kidney. He was a
white-livered old swine, but a good sailor-man--as far as any man who
says 'Ja' for 'Yes' goes.

"When daylight came my mates and I set to work to straighten up.

"Docky Mason's native wife--Tia--was a 'whole waggon with a yaller dog
under the team'. She first of all made us some hot coffee, and gave us a
rousin' breakfast; then she made the New Ireland bucks--who were wantin'
to swim to the mainland--turn to and put a new roof of coco-nut thatch
over our hut, although it was still blowin' a ragin' gale. My! thet gal
was a wonder! She hed eyes like stars, an' red lips an' shinin' pearly
teeth, an' a tongue like a whip-lash when she got mad, an' Docky Mason
uster let her talk to him as if he was a nigger--an' say nuthin'--excep'
givin' a foolish laugh and then slouchin' off. And yet she was as gentle
as a lamb to any of us fellows when we got fever, or had gone down under
more'n twenty fathoms, and was hauled up three parts dead and chokin'.

"Well, boss, we got to straights at last, although it was blowin' as
hard as ever. We had a lot o' gear on shore in that native house, for I
was intendin' to beach the cutter an' give her copper a scrubbin' before
we started divin' regular.

"There was near on a ton o' twist terbacker in tierces (which we used
fur tradin' with the niggers), a ton o' biscuit in fifty pound tins,
boxes o' red an' yaller seed beads, an' knives an' axes, an' a case
o' dynamite, an' heaps o' things that was a direct invitation to the
niggers, an' a challenge ter the Almighty to hev our silly throats cut.
And those four or five bucks, whilst Tia was hustlin' them around, was
jest takin' stock as they worked.

"By sunfall the wind an' sea in the bay had gone down a bit; an' the
bucks said that they would swim on shore (their canoe had been smashed
in the night) and bring us some food early in the mornin'. I gave 'em
a bottle o' Hollands, an' my kind regards for the old barrelled-belly
swine of a chief, some terbacker fur themselves; and then, after they
had gone, looked to our Winchesters and pistols, which the bucks hadn't
seen, fur we always kept 'em outer sight, under our sleepin' mats.

"'Paulo,' sez Tia to me, speakin' in Samoan (an' cussin' in English),
'you an' Docky an' "Star" are a lot o' blamed fools! You orter hev
shot all those bucks ez soon ez they hed finished. Didn't you say that,
"Star"?'

"'Star' had said 'Yes' to her, but being an unobtrusive sorter o'
Kanaka, he hadn't said nuthin' to us--thinkin' we knew better'n him what
ter do.

"We kep' a good watch all that day an' the nex' day, and then at sunset
two bucks in a canoe came off, bringing us six cooked pigeons from the
chief, with a message that he would come an' see us in a day or two, and
bring men to build us better houses to live in until the luggers and the
cutter came back.

"We collared the two bucks and tied 'em up, and then Tia made one of
'em eat part of a pigeon--she standin' over him with a Winchester at his
ear. He ate it, an' in ten minutes he was tyin' himself up in knots, and
was a dead nigger in another quarter of an hour. The pigeons were all
poisoned.

"We kep' the other nigger alive an' told him that if he would tell us
what was a-goin' on we'd let him off, and set him ashore, free.

"'At dawn to-morrow,' says he, 'Baian' (the fat old chief) thought to
find you all dead, because of the poisoned pigeons sent to you. And
then he meant to take all the good things you have here, and set up your
heads in his _duk duk_ house.'

"Before daylight came, Docky Mason an' 'Star' an' me hed fixed up things
all serene ter give Baian and his cannibals a doin'. Fust ev all--to
show our prisoner that we meant business, Tia held up his right hand,
an' Docky sent a Winchester bullet through it, an' told him that he
would send one through his skull ef he didn't do what he was told.

"Then we took two empty one gallon colza oil tins, and filled 'em with
dynamite, tamped it down tight, and then ran short fuses through the
corks, and carried 'em down to the place where our prisoner said Baian
and his crowd would land. It was a little bay, lined on each side by
pretty high, ragged coral boulders, covered with creepers. We stowed the
tins in readiness, and then brought our prisoner down, and told him
what to do when the time came. I guess thet thet nigger knew thet ef he
didn't play straight he was a dead coon. Tia sat down jest behind him,
and every now and then touched his backbone with the muzzle ev her
pistol--jest ter show him she was keepin' awake. At the same time he
wasn't unwillin', for he hed told us thet he and his dead mate were not
Baian's men--they were slaves he had captured from a town he had raided
somewhere near North Cape, and they were liable to be killed and eaten
at any time if Baian's crowd ran short of pig meat or turtle.

"A little bit higher up, Docky Mason, 'Star' an' me, planted ourselves
with our Winchesters, an' one of our boats' whaler's bomb guns, which
fired four pounds of slugs and deer shot, mixed up--the sorter thing,
boss, thet you an' me may find mighty handy here in this very place, if
we get rushed sudden. We made a charcoal fire, and then frayed out the
ends of the dynamite fuses so thet they would light quickly.

"When daylight came, we caught sight of nigh on fifty canoes, all
crammed with niggers, paddlin' like blazes to where we was cached, but
making no noise. Even if they hed we would not hev heard it, fur the
wind and the surf beatin' on the reef would hev drowned it.

"On they came and rushed their canoes into the little cove, four
abreast, and Tia prodded our buck in the back, and told him to stand up
and talk to Baian, who was in one of the leadin' canoes.

"Up he jumps.

"'Oh, Baian, Baian, great Baian,' he called, 'the two white men are dead
in their house, and we have the woman bound hand and foot.'

"'Good,' said Baian with a fat chuckle, as he put one leg over the
gunwale of his canoe to step out, and the next moment I put a bullet
through him, and then Docky Mason lit the first charge o' dynamite, and
slings it down, right inter the middle of the crowded canoes, and before
it went off he sent the second one after it.

"Boss, I hev seen some dynamite explosions in my time--especially when I
hev hed to blow up wrecks--but I hev never seen anything like thet. The
two shots killed over thirty niggers, wounded as many more, and stunned
a lot, who were drowned. Those who were not hurt swam out of the cove,
and neither Docky nor me had the heart to shoot any of 'em--though we
might hev picked off a couple of dozen afore they got outer range.

"Before we could stop him our prisoner jumped down among the dead and
wounded, got a long knife, an' in ten seconds he had Baian's' head off,
and held it up to us, grinning like a cat, on'y not so nice, ez he hed
jet black, betel-nut stained teeth, and red lips like a piece ev raw
beef.

"We hed no more trouble with the niggers after thet turn-up, you can bet
yer life.

"The buck stayed with us until the luggers came back, and a few days
after we landed him at his own village--ez rich ez Jay Gould, for we
gave him a musket with powder and ball, a cutlass, half a dozen pounds
ev red beads, and two hundred sticks of terbacker. I guess thet thet
nigger was able to buy himself all the wives he wanted, and be a 'big
Injun' fur the end of his days."




CHAPTER II ~ THE OLD SEA LIFE

One Sunday morning--when I was about to leave the dear old city of
Sydney for an unpremeditated and long, long absence in cold northern
climes, I went for a farewell stroll around the Circular Quay, and,
standing on some high ground on the east side, looked down on the mass
of shipping below, flying the flags of all nations, and ranging from
a few hundred to ten thousand tons. Mail steamers, deep sea tramps,
"freezers," colliers--all crowded together, and among them but _one_
single sailing vessel--a Liverpool barque of 1,000 tons, loading wool.
She looked lost, abandoned, out of place, and my heart went out to her
as my eyes travelled from her shapely lines and graceful sheer, to her
lofty spars, tapering yards, and curving jibboom, the end of the latter
almost touching the stern rail of an ugly bloated-looking German tramp
steamer of 8,000 tons. On that very spot where I stood I, when a
boy, had played at the foot of lofty trees--now covered by hideous
ill-smelling wool stores--and had seen lying at the Circular Quay fifty
or sixty noble full-rigged ships and barques, many brigs and schooners,
and but _one_ steamer, a handsome brig-rigged craft, the _Avoca_, the
monthly P. and O. boat, which ran from Sydney to Melbourne to connect
with a larger ship.

Round the point were certainly a few other steamers, old-fashioned
heavily-rigged men-of-war, generally paddle-wheel craft; and, out of
sight, in Darling Harbour, a mile away, were others--coasters--none of
them reaching five hundred tons, and all either barque- or brig-rigged,
as was then the fashion.

And they all, sailers as well as the few steamers, were manned by
_sailor-men_, not by gangs of foreign paint-scrubbers, who generally
form a steamer's crew of the present day--men who could no more handle a
bit of canvas than a cow could play the Wedding March--in fact there are
thousands of men nowadays earning wages on British ships as A.B.'s who
have never touched canvas except in the shape of tarpaulin hatch covers,
and whom it would be highly dangerous to put at the wheel of a sailing
ship--they would make a wreck of her in any kind of a breeze in a few
minutes.

In my boyhood days, nearly all the ships that came into Sydney Harbour
flying British colours were manned by men of British blood. Foreigners,
as a rule, were not liked by shipmasters, and their British shipmates in
the fo'c'stle resented their presence. One reason of this was that they
would always "ship" at a lower rate of wage than Englishmen, and were
clannish. I have known of captains of favourite clipper passenger ships,
trading between London and the