Gordon Young

“ There is no prouder blood than a savage chieftain's, and somewhere, probably around the great heart-fire of mankind's first and common fathers, the traditions of hauteur and munificent gratitude were learned by the kingly families, black and brown as well as white and yellow.
Some days later Williams started on his way. A German gunboat—the Germans were getting meddlesome in those waters even then—from a diminishing distance asked for some intimate information, and began to shoot. Probably her officers identified the schooner, for naval officers of all countries liked to visit Grahame. ”

“ The man who once blew over a cliff and landlocked the gunboat of a very proud European power is likely to have a reputation. Williams had done that, and some other things that made the Germans want his head. In those days the Germans wanted almost everything in the South Seas; since then the want has grown, also diminished.
Anyway, Williams was known as a pirate; and Davenant must have felt pretty much like one who fishes for rock-cod and finds himself in possession of a shark.
The belief that Raikes was something of a navigator had encouraged a mutual understanding. ”

“ The men who hate men, and women too, who are grimly implacable—they are really tender-hearted. They hate because they have suffered; and they wouldn't have suffered if they were not more sensitive, more trusting, than those who are not deeply wounded and made bitter when people don't keep faith with them. ”

“ The Samoans objected. They wouldn't have the wild blacks on the same ship with them. Never. Let them be killed.
More parleying, and much formal dignity. Strange from a man who would not use words in explanation or argument with anybody of his own blood.
We sailed out with two ships. Williams was down for another act of piracy. But most amazingly he said, after certain provisions and supplies—with some boxes painted warningly with red lead—had been transferred:
“This is Grahame's ship. He'll get it back.” ”

“ You got yours like as if you was a crippled girl.” Well pleased with his wit, he began a self-satisfied tune and accompanied it by drumming on his belly. “I wisht I was in Dixie,” he hummed. Then breaking off—“I never been in Dixie, but I like the tune.”
His spirit was irrepressible. None others on the Sally Martin so much as smiled. Had the schooner carried a cargo of dead kings Hawkins's was the only manner that would have seemed unbecoming.
“Lord,” he said with feeling, “I'd like to be ap-prehended for stealin' an' eatin' an ox—an' be guilty! Plenty to eat at Dakaru, anyway. ”

“ Then Hawkins talked. He had been to Dakaru with Carp Taylor, slaver, the same that Williams had once caused to disembark a load of black boys. Grahame and Carp Taylor were not friends, perhaps, but they had business dealings.
Nobody was a good friend to the brutal, sour, villainous old Grahame. A thousand miles from nowhere, Grahame did as he pleased. Planters not so far away from consuls and governors did pretty much the same. Grahame treated his dogs better than the natives. Most men did treat dogs better than natives. ”

“ We ran into a bit of good weather; and the sun being warm, the wind steady, and Hawkins having the wheel and the deck to himself, I approached, gave him what was left in a bottle, and we fell into an argument about something or other. There was a woman in it, I know. There is a woman in all the troubles that come to men.
Davenant came up and took a seat by the rail, but we did not notice him. We did not notice much of anything, and the Sally Martin, being always up to something, veered from her course and was in a fair way to go stern on when Williams appeared. ”

“ If a fight started there'd be more dead cannibals than were already buried at Dakaru.
“It was that girl at the gate that saved Grahame. I can't look very far into Williams's brain, but I have an idea if he hadn't run into that vision he would have gone off with his Samoans and left Grahame and his Portugees to fight it out. The first thing the wild blacks would have done was raid the house. ”

“ That's why they call him a hurricane. Ought to see him when two or three jump him at once. But he hit you when you wasn't looking. He just goes crazy when he catches anybody soldiering. Times, I'm afraid of him. ”

“ He had a broken ankle, but he stayed on his feet. He even walked a step or two. I don't suppose he felt pain just then, but a barefoot man with a broken ankle hasn't anything but grit to stand on.
“And as for pain, it made no difference when he did feel it later. Nothing exists for him but the thing he wants.
“'Stop,' Williams had said, and that seemed to remind Grahame. ”

“ Williams stopped abruptly and we pressed against him, circling and almost surrounding her. Most of the natives had heard something about angels. Missionaries always give angels blonde hair. I don't know why. This was the first one they had seen.
“She was surprised. She was startled. But she wasn't frightened. One'd never have thought there were devil Portugees and bloodhounds and a lot of bruised backs—even if the bellies were full—around there.
“'Where's Grahame?' said Williams. ”

“ Bad fellows. They wanted to burn everything and— You know. It wasn't Grahame only. It was the Portugees too. And the white girl.
“Bad natives are the most vicious beasts under the sun. Williams knows it—only he says whites ought to let 'em alone.
“There was a fine boiling and bubbling of trouble, I can tell you. The Samoans were all right; they are always all right. But the others were excited. They'd been beaten and kicked around, chewed by dogs and—well, they were dead set on just tearing the top of that old island off and making a grand stew of Portugees and Grahame. ”

“ Look at Williams. He goes huntin' it.”
With renewed emphasis:
“Grahame ain't got all he wants. Man don't work like that to amuse hisself. I mean make others work—them niggers. Queer, ain't it? In this world you can't get all you want.”
“I guess you got all you wanted this afternoon.”
Hawkins rubbed his jaw and peered at me. ”

“ His hair was rather long and white, but the mustache was black, and his face was big and full, a bit fat. No doubt it was usually red, with that overfed complexion of the beef-eater some Englishmen never lose, no matter where they go. ”

“ Hawkins muttered. “Him an' Carp Taylor was standin' down by the native quarters waitin' for two blacks that had been caught out at sea in a canoe. Runaway. No place to go, but they went anyhow. A big bloodhound was rubbin' a flabby ear 'gainst his leg, an' he reached down an' rubbed its head an' went on cussin' the boys for tryin' to get away.
“They was brought up. Hands tied behind 'em—two old fellows. A little black Portugee, spittin' like a mad cat, whipped 'em up—an' Grahame shot 'em. ”