H. A. Lamb

“ McShea being the man he was, and Quin a thick-skulled Irishman, Stuart was a god send to me on the run down to the islands. Not that McShea wasn’t all right in his way, but he was as sparing of words as he was of his silver and tobacco. A good skipper and a decent man, but old and set in his ways. ”

“ Ill-treatment of the natives is to be avoided at all cost.
It was Stuart who restored quiet.
The lad talked to the frightened Kanakas reassuringly, and made it clear that the man who had wielded the war club would not be punished. Aided by the returns, he soon had the Vanikorans assembled once more on the beach.
“No need to be alarmed,” he said calmly to Quin, who was scowling and nursing his rifle.
“I suppose,” said the Irishman jeeringly, “ye would like to have a love feast, now, with the niggers. Some day soon, Mr. ”

“ The man that Quinn had hurt crawled away through the water, evidently fearing that we meant to kill him.
The boat boys in our craft were handling their weapons eagerly, but I took pains to caution them not to shoot. ”