H. De Vere Stacpoole

H. De Vere Stacpoole

Summary

Portrait of H. De Vere Stacpoole H. De Vere Stacpoole The Seeds of Dissension (1927)

Dad didn't know fear, and at Papua, where he took Fergus ashore exploring, he didn't mind the head hunters, and Fergus told me once when we were talking of old days that they struck a wigwam there where heads were hanging to dry and the heads weren't bigger than a tangerine orange. They have some dodge for shrinking a head that no one knows or ever will know, and they have poisons that'll kill if you smell them, let alone taste them, and witch doctors that'll raise evil spirits, which seems like bringing coals to Newcastle, seeing the sort of chaps they are in those parts.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of H. De Vere Stacpoole H. De Vere Stacpoole The Seeds of Dissension (1927)

First thing we run into fog and dirt, next our deck cargo went, next we were near fried alive, now Jackson's dished, and he was the only man on board beside you could work a reckoning; next will be taken is yourself, and where'll we be? That's what I want to know, where'll we be? I'm thinking of my own skin,' he says, 'if you won't think of yours —chuck them things overboard and own up you were wrong.'
"Now, as Fergus told me after, he could see the old man had come to the same belief as himself but was too proud to own up.
Source: Wikisource

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