The White Waterfall

by James Francis Dwyer

chartered the yacht. Anyhow,he doesn't say enough to let any one know which side of the fence he ison. He has only learned to say yes and no, and he is mighty particularabout the number of times he will use those words."

  I laughed at the bitterness the youngster threw into his speech. It isgood to be young. One can love and hate with some intensity, and itappeared to me that Holman had found marks for both adoration and hatredon the yacht that was slipping into the mysterious islands of the SouthSea.

  "You mustn't look at the black side of things," I said. "Leith's face isnot a likable one, I will admit, but a lot of good fellows have uglydials. It seems that the Professor wants skulls, and it appears thatLeith knows of a spot where he can gather up the oldest specimens inPolynesia. There's nothing wrong about that. As to Miss Herndon, shestruck me as being a young lady who was well able to look afterherself."

  "That's all right," stammered the youngster. "Perhaps I said too much,but I had to speak to you."

  "And I'm mighty glad you did!" I cried.

  He gripped my hand and turned away, leaving me to my own reflections. Itwas a wonderful night. The silvery sea through which _The Waif_ drovea path with plunging forefoot awoke strange dreams and fancies within mybrain. All the mystery of the tropic night welled up around me, and mysoul seemed to have suddenly awakened to the beauty of life. The veil ofmorbid pessimism that came before my eyes during the weary days I hadspent upon the beach at Levuka was torn aside, and a wave of gladnessentered my being. I felt that the voyage would be an eventful one to me,and I tramped the poop with a light step. Occasionally the sallowfeatures of Leith persisted in rising before my mental vision to blotout the dream face that was continually before me, but I resolutely putthe Professor's partner from my mind and fed myself upon the visionsbred by the splendour of the night.

  Holman had left me about an hour when I happened to glance at the patchof shadow that had attracted his attention while he was talking to me.I stopped and watched it intently. Some one had crawled into thevelvety strip and was lying perfectly still.

  "Who is there?" I asked.

  There was no answer. The strip of shadow broadened and narrowed as _TheWaif_ plunged, but I could discern nothing. Outside the captain andmyself, the crew of _The Waif_, together with the six men that were withthe Professor's party, were all natives, and I wondered as I watched theshadow why one should be crawling around as if afraid of being seen. Itwas possible that he was attempting to thieve something from the galley,and it was also possible that he was spying, as Holman had suggested.

  I picked up a small iron pin and tossed it at the spot where I felt surethe islander was hiding. I didn't throw the pin with any force, althoughthe yell that came out of the shadow would convince an onlooker that Ihad thrown it with murderous intent.

  I sprang forward while the shriek of pain was still vibrating in theair, but the native was determined to have revenge for the rap from theiron pin. A knife flashed in the moonlight, and I staggered as the bladetouched my forehead like a tongue of flame. A dark figure dashed alongthe deck toward the forecastle, and brushing the blood from my eyes Istarted in pursuit.

  At the head of the companion-stairs I collided heavily with Newmarch,who had just rushed up from the cabin, and the force of the shock nearlythrew him off his feet.

  "Confound it!" he cried. "What's the matter with you?"

  "One of the Kanakas nearly cut my eye out!" I roared. "He flung a knifeat me and ducked for the f'c'stle."

  I left him standing in angry astonishment and rushed forward. I stood atthe top of the ladder and listened. The only noises that came up werethe shrill snores of the islanders, but the blood that streamed down myface made me forget prudence, and I scrambled down into the stuffyquarters, where the odour of natives was overwhelming.

  A swinging lamp dimly illuminated the place, and I snatched it from itshook and swung it over the face of the naked occupant of the first bunk.A glance convinced me that his sleep was genuine. His mouth was wideopen as he snored, and the native who feigns sleep hasn't enough senseto make his imitation more real by opening his mouth.

  The man in the next bunk, a muscular Kanaka, had his face turned awayfrom me, and in spite of his prolonged snore my suspicions were aroused.I thrust my hand beneath the single blanket that covered him, and wasimmediately convinced that I had discovered the culprit. The blanket wascold.

  "Here, you scoundrel!" I yelled, dropping the lamp and poking himroughly in the ribs. "What the devil do you mean by trying to knife me?"

  He opened his big eyes and stared at me stupidly, while the occupants ofthe other bunks, who were aroused by my shout, sat up and rubbed theireyes.

  "Why did you throw that knife?" I screamed.

  "I no throw knife," he muttered. "Me sleep, very tired."

  The pain of my wound maddened me, and I seized him roughly and draggedhim toward the ladder with the intention of bringing him before thebilious captain.

  I had grasped a rung to haul myself up when a heavy boot came down on myfingers and the voice of the captain screamed an objection.

  "Stop that business!" he shrieked.

  "But this devil tried to knife me!" I protested.

  "Let him go!" yelled Newmarch. "Do you hear me? Let him go thisinstant!"

  I let go my grip of the Kanaka, who immediately dived for his bunk andcurled himself up as if he had no further interest in the proceedings.The captain was beside me then, and his quick breathing betrayed hisexcitement. As I lifted the lamp back to its place the light fell uponhis thin features; their pallor surprised me as much as his words.

  "Too many wonderful things happen to you!" he stammered.

  "Why--what do you mean?" I queried.

  "Never mind!" he snapped. "If you start a rough house on board this boatI'll stop you before you get well under way."

  I was too astounded to reply. The blood upon my face and hands was plainevidence of the wound I had received, and the captain's indifferenceleft me breathless. Without another word he turned and scrambled up ondeck, and I followed.

  Once out of earshot of the listening crew I determined to make anothereffort to show him that my conduct was justified.

  "That devil was sneaking in the shadow of the galley all the evening," Icried. "I attempted to stir him out and he jerked the knife at me."

  He stopped in front of me, made one of his conversational feints byopening his mouth and shutting it again, then dived hastily for thecompanion, leaving me to search for sympathy in the moonlit night. Iremembered as I endeavoured to staunch the wound, the question which Ihad put to Holman concerning the captain only an hour before, and Ismiled grimly as I bound my handkerchief about my forehead. CaptainNewmarch of _The Waif_ hadn't risen in my estimation since the moment Imade the inquiry.

  CHAPTER IV

  THE STORM

  Holman glanced inquiringly at the piece of sticking plaster above myright eye when he met me on the deck the morning after the knifeincident, and I grinned sheepishly.

  "You were right about that patch of shadow last night," I remarked.

  "How?" he queried.

  "This came from it," I replied, touching the plaster with my finger as Ispoke.

  The boy whistled and looked around cautiously. "You'll be getting wisein a day or two," he murmured. "She said you would when I told her thismorning about our conversation of last night."

  I laughed, and he turned suddenly toward me. "Do you think we'll put inanywhere in the Samoan Group?"

  "I don't think so," I replied. "Why?"

  Holman came closer. "If we do I'm going to get the girls ashore and keepthem there," he muttered. "I don't care what you think of theproposition. This trip is going to be a tough one, and I'm certain thereis some deviltry afoot."

  I tried to laugh at the serious face upon the youngster, but theconviction which he threw into his words choked my mirth. Whether it wasthe little brush with the Kanaka or the gloomy forebodings of the boy Icouldn't tell, but I felt a trifle anxious after my first nigh
t aboard_The Waif_.

  "But there is nothing to be gained by running away if we do put in to aport," I growled.

  "How is that?" stammered Holman.

  "Well, if Leith is an admirer of Edith Herndon, as you say," I argued,"and if the captain is in league with Leith, the yacht wouldn't leavetill the girls came aboard. Besides, the Professor wouldn't go onwithout them."

  "I don't know about the Professor," grunted Holman. "That old doodlebugonly thinks of the silly specimens that he is going to collect downhere. If he had any love for his daughters he wouldn't have brought themalong."

  "But you told me they insisted on coming."

  "So they did!" he retorted savagely. "But they knew that the poor oldfool was in the hands of a scoundrel and they wouldn't let him go alone.They think they can protect him from that devil, and it nearly makes mecry to hear them say so."

  Miss Edith Herndon and her sister came up on deck at that moment, and ifI was impressed by the calm sweetness of the elder girl's face on theprevious afternoon, the strength and beauty of it as I saw it in thefresh morning sunlight made my heart pound violently against my ribs.The prettiness of Miss Barbara made the quiet dignity of the eldersister more noticeable, and that apparent strength of character made medoubt Holman's contention that she would be unable to help the scientistif Leith's motives were discovered to be criminal.

  It was Barbara's keen eyes that detected my plaster, and I squirmed as Isaw the light of curiosity in her eyes.

  "Oh, tell us how it happened!" she cried. "Please make it a night attackupon the yacht, Mr. Verslun! I heard a wild cry just after I retired andI felt sure that war canoes had surrounded us. They always surround theill-fated ship, don't they?" she continued merrily. "And the ship isalways ill-fated in all the really thrilling sea stories I have read!"

  Leith came sauntering aft as she fired her questions at me, and hestood near Miss Edith with his dull eyes fixed upon me as I answered.

  "I'm afraid I cannot feed your imagination to-day," I replied. "Itripped over a coil of rope, and the deck sprang up and bumped me."

  I glanced at Leith as I spoke, and I fancied I detected a glint ofamusement in the lustreless eyes that were turned in my direction.Whether it was caused by my hastily constructed lie or by the girl'sinquiries I could not tell, but my dislike for the clumsy giant made mesuspicious about his knowledge of the incident of the preceding evening,and I felt certain that he was smiling at my fib.

  As if he wished to do something which would convince me of his ignoranceof the happening, he hastily changed the subject.

  "The captain thinks we are in for a spell of bad weather, Mr. Verslun,"he drawled; "are you of the same opinion?"

  "If signs go for anything we are," I replied. "We are running into azone of trouble."

  He walked away without further speech, and the two girls went below inresponse to a message from their father. The Professor was slightlyindisposed, and he demanded that his daughters remain with him in thecabin. The selfishness of the scientist irritated Holman exceedingly,and he made bitter comments about him during the hour or two he kept mecompany.

  "I never yet met one of those scientific gazaboos who didn't think hewas something more than mortal," he growled. "I try to keep on goodterms with the old bone measurer, but his vanity nearly turns me sick.Do you know what he told me yesterday?"

  "What?" I asked, amused at the youngster's annoyance.

  "Said that he might mention my name in the report of the expedition thathe would send to some old research society in the States. When I didn'tshow any signs of elation he got offended, so I guess I'm cut out of thehistory."

  He went grumbling down into the cabin, and I watched the ocean. Thebarometer was low, and out of the west a pack of fat black cloudsswarmed up from the horizon, stacking themselves one upon another tillthey resembled a huge pile of rounded boulders which a sudden puff ofwind might bring toppling down upon us. The faint scouting puffs ofair--"the devil's breath" of the poetical Polynesians--whined throughthe stays, but the small waves that tried to rise in expectation wereclouted back by the heavy, oppressive atmosphere that ironed out theocean till one's imagination pictured it waiting for the word like astrained runner on his mark.

  It burst at last. Three violent blasts ripped over us like projectiles,and the "song of the dead men" was twanged upon the straining ropes._The Waif_ stopped for an instant, as if debating whether she would runor cower before the onslaught, then she dipped her nose into the madlather that rose around her and plunged forward. That jump seemed to bea challenge to the storm. It burst upon us in all its fury, and theyacht became a tiny seesaw upon the murderous Himalayas that rose aroundus.

  Great chunks of green water came hurtling over the rail, thundering downupon us till _The Waif_ was buried in a boiling turmoil from which shewould leap and shake herself, only to be pulled down again when the nextsea fell upon us. When she sprang out of the lather, those devilish,snarling, snaky waves sprang after her, slapping at her flanks, tearingand biting at her like a pack of wolves. There's an awful likeness to awolf pack about storm waves. When you see them all foam-latheredstretching out like a pack in full cry, or watch them leaping up as ifthey were trying to see whether the unfortunate ship had been torn downby one of their band, you begin to credit them with some sort ofintelligence.

  _The Waif_ was no poppycock yacht, built to dodge about the Solent andrun for Cowes if the wind blew a capful. She had been built to hold herown with the hardest slamming seas that ever chased a shattered hull,and it was lucky for us that she was. The storm that came screechingafter us from way across the Coral Sea was one of those high-poweredfreak disturbances that juggle with lumps of water like a vaudevilleperformer juggling with cheap crockery. It took the tops off thoserollers and pelted them at us, and the wind seemed to yell in triumphwhen the yacht was buried in the whirlpools in which she dived headlong.

  All through the night we raced before it, and through the following day_The Waif_ never paused for an instant in her mad race to the eastward.The Kanakas became demoralized with fear, and I forgot the troublehanging over the heads of the girls and their father as I helpedNewmarch drag the crew from their bunks to cut away the wreckage of thevessel.

  I saw a new side of the captain during those hours. A very devil ofenergy took hold of him with the coming of the storm, and he became ahuman dynamo. He pounded the frightened crew unmercifully, dragging thescreaming islanders back to their work by the hair of their heads, andheaping upon them curses that were strange and blood-curdling. That hewas a good sailorman I had little doubt. He handled _The Waif_ withskill and patience, while the crew, with rolling eyes and quiveringlips, were so terrorized by his wrath that they fled to do his bidding.

  I had been wondering since the moment when he had ordered me to let gomy grip of the Kanaka in the f'c'stle, if he was afraid that anydisagreement between me and the knife-thrower would start trouble withthe crew, but from the way he hazed the niggers during the storm I wasconvinced that it was not through any fear of them that he ordered me toleave my assailant alone. The conviction did not increase my love forhim. As I viewed the happening he was inclined to shield the big brutewho threw the knife simply because the offence did not appear to be onethat merited punishment, and this view was not pleasing to my nerves.

  It was on the second day of the storm that a little incident happenedwhich is worth mentioning. Toni, the small Fijian who had chanted thesong of Black Fernando's hell, was caught by a huge wave and poundedhard against the cabin. The mad turmoil of water swept his nearlylifeless form into the scuppers, but before another comber could snatchhim overboard, I managed to reach his side and drag him into safety.

  I forgot the incident in the whirl of happenings that followed, but theFijian had a longer memory. Late that afternoon he was holding the wheelwith Soma, the big Kanaka who had jerked the knife at me, and as Istopped to peer at the binnacle he beckoned me toward him.

  "That was me that sing," he shrieked, as I put dow
n my head. "I telldamn big lie you an' Miss Herndon."

  "Why?" I asked, amused at the peculiar manner in which he tried toexpress his gratitude for the rescue of the morning.

  "Big Jacky tell me not say anything," he screamed. "He tell it to me onebig secret all that talk about waterfall. Tell me not to tell any one.You know why?"

  I glanced at Soma and found that he was straining his ears to catch thewords the other was shrieking, and as I was more than suspicious of him,I promptly closed the conversation.

  "I'll see you in the morning," I roared.

  The Fijian nodded and I fought my way forward, wondering as I clung tothe rigging what the pupil of the Maori had to tell me about the song.

  The wind had ceased somewhat on the morning of the third day, but thesnaky rollers were still racing after the flying yacht. A watery sunpeeped out from between the driving cloud masses, the rays glintingthrough the heads of the waves that curled menacingly as the batteredyacht drove through them.

  Newmarch hailed me from the poop when I came on deck, and there was apeculiar look upon his scrawny features as he addressed me.

  "Do you know that nigger you rescued?" he asked.

  "Toni?"

  "Yes."

  "What about him?"

  "You did your heroic stunt for nothing," he remarked. "The fool can't befound, so I guess he went overboard in the