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CHAPTER VI.
For two days she had had a knife.
Now, in the mid-hours of the third
night, she was again lying in the
cabin awake.
She was thinking of a remark of
Burke's several times repeated, which
had assumed the significance of a
threat. "Better volunteer that kiss
while the volunteering's easy," he
had warned, his grim good humor in
the last hour or two, as she felt.
growing a little thin. "For I can tell
y'this: There won't be no evading
the draft—once she clamps down."
What had he meant?
When Palmyra came on deck on
this, the fourth day of her captivi'
ty, she saw that Ponape Burke was
in an ugly mood.
The man greeted her with alco
holic leer, his infantile features
shocking in their age-old depravity.
When she shrank back into the
companion he was amused. "Come,
come, Queenie," he roared. "Are
y'ready with that kiss?' He bellow
ed with laughter. Then, when she
did not advance, he changed to the
quick anger of intoxication. "Have
it yer way, Miss Aree—Miss Palm
Tree," he said thickly. "But 'twon't
be long before you're down on yer
shins a-praying the Lord for just one
chance t'beg me t'take the dam' kiss
—and you sick with fear I won't
want it."
Ponape rolled aft to the girl
"Sweetheart," he said, "I'm going
t'part with you."
She did not understand
"Dam' them Japs!" he exploded,
his temper taking a new direction.
"'Twas their man-o-war we sighted'
last midwatch."
So that had been the cause of the
alert watch, with its brief but real
excitement.
The man's suggestion of parting
with her, the possibility of Japa
nese intervention, had brought the
color of hope to her cheeks.
But he, returning now, struck at
that hope with malicious percep
tion. "Oh, safe enough in three or
four days," he reassured. "They'll
be gone then for a good six
It's only in the meantime
months.
we got t'lay low. But in the mean
. time—ruin everything you t'be
caught aboard."
She tried to fathom his pui'pose.
"I'm going t'jettison you. Y'shall
stop ashore."
She fetared at him. Incredulous
hope roused again, only to fall be
fore his expression. He had not
the slightest thought of relinquish
ing her.
Burke was amused. "'Tis a bon
ny isle," he said, "and you'll have
naught t'do but sit and think o'
me."
The girl's spirit rose. She did
not question that this would be
some depot of his, a place of servile
natives. But, even so, her position
would be bettered. Surely, among
them all, must be those to under
stand, to respond to her plea for
protection.
She was eager to go. But she
thought it wise to seem indifferent.
She waited until Burke turned
away, then scanned the sea.
As the day wore on toward its
close she worked herself into a pas
sion of suspense, apprehension.
Burke was still drinking; what if
night should find her aboard?
And then, when it seemed she
could stand no more, she discov
ered that the man Olive, grinning
enthusiastically, was putting water,
ship's biscuit and some other stores
into a boat.
In surprise, she swept the sea
again—and found it blank. "Why,
when do we get there?" she asked
of Burke.
He smiled sardonically. "We're
there now," he answered.
She was completely at a loss.
He handed her his binoculars.
a Hard a-starboard," he directed.
Presently she made out, through
the glasses, that which might be
the drest of palms. The island
seemed far distant.
But the Pigeon of Noah had held
to her course for no great time
when her master gave the order to
heave to, and lower away the boat.
"But it's so far," she hesitated.
Burke winked at Olive, already
at the oars, then dropped over the
side without reply. Palmyra, dis
daining his proffered hand, fol
lowed. The savage bent to his
work and they were away, under
the stare of the crew.
All too soon the girl saw why she
had thought the island distant. As
with each stroke of the oars, her
heart sank. So small, so flat, its
four cocoa-palms so stunted, it was
well night invisible to the novice.
The moment her feet touched the
sand she hurled herself at the white
man.
"Belay there, sweetheart," he
laughed, retreating. "Steady > does
it. Didn't I tell y' you'd have plen
ty o'time t' sit and think o' me?"
Y'got water and stores for six
weeks or so and housekeeping'll be
easy-like," grinned her despot.
"Y'jets set in the shade and munch
yer biscuit and think o' me."
"And then, sometime, maybe you'll
sight the old Pigeon loafing by. And
if you're tired o'yer own company,
y'can hist yer hanky for a signal.
And perhaps I'll be such a good kind
gent as t'lay y'aboard again, me un
derstanding what you're ■ after is
t'rush up and give me that kiss."
She detached her teeth behind
the closed lips.
He turned as if to go. Then, cas
ually in a well-considered effect, he
called Olive to fetch that of which
the 'girl had not thought in days,—
a pink silk parasol.
With a flourish Ponape Burke pre
sented this gay trifle which, alone
of all the world that she had known,
had' escaped the deluge. "For my
queen," he said with mock ceremony.
"Fresh complected folks has a tender
skin. If queenie should show up off
ering a kiss all blistered like a biled
lobster—why, maybe that kiss
wouldn't so much be wanted. And,
remember: 'tis a kiss, free given and
free taken, pays a passage from this
reef."
He sprang upon the stooping back
of his fellow to be carried to the
boat. He rode high, his legs, on either
side of the brown torso, doubled, and
supported by Olive's hand. under
each shin, as a stirrup.
When the boat had cleared the
reef, Ponape Burke rose to wave
her a jaunty adieu.
When they were half way to the
schooner, the girl uttered a sob
and, flinging down the parasol, ran
after them until she stood in the
surf. Then, slowly, she turned and
came back to the palms and threw
herself upon the sand—prone.
And, oddly enough, as she lay, it
was not the white man's cruel hu
mor that revolted her so much as
the brown man's mirth. For Burke
had a purpose, but Olive's was a
mere savage delight in pain.
She had said that in the whole
world she alone was alive. Now,
however, across the coral clinkers
a something was coming, moving
eccentrically, yet approaching at an
alarming speed. A something alive?
Tt was gay with red polka-dots; it
ran with the exaggeration of a toy,
seeming about to stumble at each
step, yet zig-zagging over the
clinkers in an astonishing ease and
rapidity.
Unexpectedly, the girl laughed.
This nursery beast would be presum
ably be no more than a land crab.
Somewhat intimidated, however,
she backed a step further up the
palm. The intrude* on her island—
or was she not rather the intruder?
—hastened toward her, claws already
half extended, as a hostess with
hands out to greet a belated guest.
The polka-dotted crab went "polka
doddering" on its way. It had kept
her mind, for the moment, from the
fact that the sun was sinking at a
frightful speed.
And then, there flashed back into
her mind a word Burke had taught
her, a native name for the monstrous
robber crab. It was unga po—the
night crab! In fright she sprang up,
stared around. The very fact she had
seen the one, presupposed presence
of the other. To realize that her
polka-dotted absurity might now be
blundering near in search of prey
was sufficiently disquieting; prox
imity of its fierce cousin legitimately
alarming. For, with claws more than
a foot long, it could snap the strong
est bonito line like a thread, crush the
bones of a man's fingers, cripple for
life the wrist of a well grown youth.
Horror returned upon her. She
struggled back to her observation
THE FOREST CITY COURIER, THURSDAY, MAY 17, 1928.
post. She must sight a ship instant
ly—now, now! now!
By day the lowness of the land
had brought the skyline closer than
she had ever imagined.
She had thought of herself as the
only living being in the whole
world. Now she seemed the only
living being in all the universe
with the eyes of that universe cen
tered upon her.
But, suddenly, from out the dark
ness, there came a hoarse cry.
The girl doubled into a ball, auto
matically, as sometimes, one awak
ened by a crash of thunder.
An interval; then she sat up and
laughed—janglingly but with a good
courage. It had been only a bird.
As Palmyra had been caught un
awares by the approach of night, so
now, with the eastern skies aglow
with tl\£ coming day, she was again
unawares, lying deep in slumber.
The sun, at his setting, had paus
ed to implant upon her cheek a good
night kiss. And it was not now un
til he had stolen clear round the
world to bestow an awakening kiss
upon the other cheek, had surmount
ed the Chinese wall of vapor raised
him by the morning bank,
that her eyes opened.
As the girl stood watching the
everchanging panorama, she became
aware that the waters abounded in
life.
The bit of water upon which her
gaze chanced to be fixed rose up
into a peak and there appeared a
dark round object which resembled
a head.
For a long, minute she covered
her eyes with her hands. Then she
gathered courage at last to look.
The head, bobbing up and down
like a cork, was coming as fast as a
i boat. Presently, as she stared it
reached the surf at a narrow open
ing of the reef. A few more strokes
of arms, thick and brown, and the
: head of an islander rose dripping
(from the water.
And then it was that Palmyra ut
tered another cry. For she saw a
copper face with great square teeth
clamped on a knife— a knife that
did not hide the ferocious grin
which had haunted her since she
first saw it thus under her spot
light; the face of the brown man
Olive!
When the face of the savage
Olive materialized to her view, the
voice of the surf drowned that wail
with which Palmyra Tree cowered
back behind her screen.
The swimmer, rising ' from the
brine, paused knee-deep to shake
himself like a dog. Then he plucked
the knife from between his teeth,
Thrust it into the leather sheath on
his belt and came splashing ashore.
He did not hesitate, but made direct
for her hiding place, the only cover.
The girl sprang away in flight.
The brown man, beaming terrific
ally, followed. She ran, stumbling
now and again on the coral clinkers,
until she reached land's end, and
then on, as far as she could, along
the reef a-wash. Seizing from the
water a broken knob of coral, she
faced the savage. When he reached
the edge of the sand, she hurled it
at him. Then her hand rose toward
her dress where her own knife wait
ed.
Olive, at the missile, grinned none
the less. Indeed, he seemed unaware
it, though it passed within a foot
of his head. But it did, nevertheless,
have an effect—one quite unexpect
ed. For he sat down, cross-legged, on
the sand. He broke into the anima
tion of speech.
He stood up, and the girl's hand
flew back toward her weapon. But
he came no nearer. To her sur
prise, he turned and went strutting
away toward the clump of palms.
There he beckoned her to follow.
-First, the savage pulled two of the
half-grown cocoanuts. With his knife
he cut through the two-inch green
husk of one and exposed the lower
end of the shell. From this, with
three taps of the blade, he knocked
a found cap. He took a big draft
of the liquid within—cool, slightly
acid, clear as water. Then he op
ened the second nut, brough it half
way toward, left it upright in the
sand. She was, it seemed, invited to
drink.
Turning to the clump of pan
cfanus, he hacked out a short slim
pole. This he next, with cord from
her stores, lashed across the top of
his uprights. Then he marched
away toward the reef and, reaching
out as one might to pick a kitten up
by the neck, snatched a fish from
a pocket in the coral. This fish,
flopping vigorously, he bound to the
crossbar of his dwarfed football
goal.
The girl had been watching these
moves breathlessly, , wonder for the
moment getting the better of fear.
Not until he fetched the fish did
she have any theory. The it flashed
into her mind that barbarous peoples
always propitiated their deities with
food offerings. Could this be a sort
of altar. Did the savage so seek to
further his purpose?
But Olive gave no sign. With
the last turn of the cord about the
struggling fish, he strode away to
the shade of the palms and, throw
ing himself down on his back, was
almost instantly asleep.
Palmyra, crouching in the sun,
stared at that figure. She was aston
ished. How was it physically pos
sible for him thus to fall into slum
ber?
Whence had this man come, and
—why? Could Ponape have sent
him to terrorize her? Or had the
savage . . .
She gave a shudder.
She snatched the knife from her
dress. She gripped its handle; she
began to crawl toward that terrible
figure.
But presently she hesitated, stop
ped. With a groan she sank down.
She dropped the knife, buried her
face in her hands. In resistance she
could have fought like a tiger. But
thus to creep upon a sleeping man?
For a time there seemed no alter
native. Then she roused at the realiz
ation that, if she could not murder
a sleeping man, she could at least
disarm him. With Olive deprived of
that knife, and her own retained, who
could tell? She might have some
shred of chance.
She put the blade into her dress
and began again to crawl forward.
She had got within a dozen feet of
the savage, moving with caution,
when unexpectedly, easily, almost as
it seemed automatically, he opened
his eyes and sat up. It was as if he
had not been asleep at all; had, from
the beginning, been waiting for her
to do this thing.
The girl shrank back. Olive fixed
her with his strange eyes. Then he
smiled expansively, as if it were a
joke. He settled down once more,
instantly returned to slumber.
Sudden, startling in that place of
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solitude, there came a sound. It
had not been Olive. She sprang up,
circled land and water in a quick
scrutiny.
( Continued next week)