A high spot occurred when Sandy suddenly held up a huge, heart-shaped gem. He was even more excited than the others. 'That's something to write home about,' he declared enthusiastically. 'One day that's going to sit on a queen's crown, or a princess's tiara, and when you see pictures of it in the paper you'll get a kick out of remembering that it was you who helped to fish it up from the bottom of the sea. That pearl is worth five thousand pounds of anybody's money.'
Ìt's lovely,' breathed Ginger.
Ìt will never again look so lovely as it does at this moment,' muttered regretfully.
The work continued, the little heap of pearls in the tin
growing steadily larger, and the empty shells making a big 68
mound near the scene of operations. When the last shell had been examined and thrown aside, the total catch was found to be five large pearls of considerable value, nineteen of medium size, one 'double button', or two pearls joined together, and a double handful of seed pearls—small pearls of no great value.
`Well, that's a pretty good average, so we can't complain,' said Sandy, with satisfaction. '
If that little lot doesn't fetch twenty thousand pounds I'll eat my hat.' "What are these cultured pearls one hears so much about?' asked Ginger. 'I've heard that the Japanese run sort of oyster farms to produce them. They put bits of grit inside the shells, or something, to encourage the oyster to spread the nacre over them.'
'Pah! ' Sandy made a grimace of disgust. 'Don't talk to me about cultured pearls. They're not in the same class as real pearls. You'll soon be able to buy 'em at Woolworth's at ten a penny.'
`What's wrong with them?'
`Nothing much, when they first come out of the shell. But they're made too fast, and like most things that are made in a hurry they don't last. They lack the fire of the others, and they're liable to peel. A pearl is made up of a number of skins, like an onion, you know.'
While he was speaking Sandy's fingers were groping about in the slush at the bottom of the pail, searching for any pearls that might have been overlooked.
`By jingo! That reminds me,' cried Ginger.
Òf what?' asked Biggles.
'That shell Full Moon fished up when she made her first dive. I kept it by itself. I put it over there by that tree and forgot all about it. I'll go and fetch it.' He ran across to the palm he had indicated and came back with the half-open oyster in his hand. 'I'm not very hopeful.' he said, eyeing the shell disapprovingly, for compared with some of the others it was very small, and diseased in places. The outside was covered with barnacles, and it was obviously of great age. He sat down on the sand and plunged his fingers into the corruption that a few days before had been a live oyster. Suddenly he stiffened and looked up at the others. His eyes opened wide. His face turned pale and his breath came quickly.
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Àha—that's how it gets you when you feel the first one,' declared Sandy.
Ginger slowly withdrew his fingers and held up an enormous round pearl, the size of a marble. It was not white, but pink, and as it lay in his trembling palm it gleamed with an uncanny light, as if it were imbued with life.
Silence fell. It was broken by Sandy. 'Sweet Andrew of Scotland!' he breathed, white-faced, staring at the pearl as if it exerted an irresistible fascination over him. 'I've seen some pearls in my time, and some beauties among 'em, but I've never seen anything like that. That baby is going to cause more than a flutter when it reaches Paris.'
Ginger had tossed the shell aside, and was about to speak when Full Moon uttered a little cry. She was staring at the shell, which gaped open. The others looked, and saw something pink gleaming between the lips of the shell. In a silence broken only by the harsh rustle of the palms Ginger picked it up and slowly withdrew a second rose-tinted pearl.
He laid it on the palm of his left hand with the other. The two made a perfect pair.
Sandy seemed to have difficulty in speaking. 'Look at 'em! ' he croaked. Then again, '
Look at 'em! Look hard, boys, because you're looking at something you'll never see again as long as you live—no, not if you live to be a million. I tell you, men have been pearling in these seas for years, some of 'em for half a century, without ever seeing anything like that. Not many men alive have seen one pearl of that class, let alone two. It makes me feel funny inside to look at 'em.'
`Now we can have one each.'
Èach?'
Òne for us, and the other for Full Moon.'
`What!' Sandy nearly choked. 'Part a pair like that? You can't do it. It would be criminal.
Those two pearls were born together, and must always stay together. Don't you realize what it means to have a pair—no, maybe you don't. Either of those pearls alone would be worth ten thousand pounds, but as a pair you could ask your own price—and get it.
Kings have pawned their kingdoms for less.'
`Yes, they'll have to stay together,' agreed Biggles. `But what about Full Moon?'
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The girl pursed her lips. 'Me no want,' she said simply. `You buy me red beads at Lo Sing's store, maybe?' `Sure we will,' agreed Sandy.
`You'll give her a sixpenny string of pearls for one of those?' cried Ginger indignantly.
`She'd rather have 'em. She said so herself, and she means it.'
`Well, it seems a raw deal to me,' grumbled Ginger. `Me happy,' cried Full Moon cheerfully. `Me plenty bead.'
`Well, if you say so,' agreed Ginger reluctantly. 'You help youself to anything in Lo Sing'
s store that you like when we get back to Rutuona, and let these skunks pay the bill.'
Full Moon clapped her hands delightedly. 'Plenty brilliantine, plenty face-powder,' she cried.
Ginger looked horrified, but Sandy grinned. 'You wait and see her when she comes out of the store,' he chuckled. `She'll look like a French doll, and stink like a chemist's shop for a couple of days, and kid herself she's the cat's whisker. Then she'll go swimming and forget all about it.' He got up. 'We might as well be getting back,' he said. 'I can do with a nice cup of tea to wash this stink out of my throat. We'd better find a safe place for these pearls. We won't put them on the 'Scud' till we go for good, in case of accidents.'
They walked back by the side of the lagoon to the camp, where before doing anything else Sandy buried the tin containing the pearls in the soft sand under a conspicuous crag of sun-bleached coral. 'They should be all right there,' he said, as he rejoined the others, who were preparing tea.
When the meal was over, Biggles leaned back and lit a cigarette. Sandy lit his pipe. 'I call that a pretty good day's work,' he said. 'Another load or two and we're all set for an easy life. All I ask is that the weather holds.'
Ànd the food-supply,' put in Biggles. 'We're getting a bit low. I didn't reckon on six mouths to fill when I made up the list of stores.'
`We ought to help it out with fish,' replied Sandy. 'There are plenty in the water. There's a line and some hooks over there; I brought 'em for that purpose. Full Moon and Shell-Breaker know the sorts worth eating.' He turned to
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the two Polynesians. 'You kids go and get some fish,' he ordered.
Shell-Breaker and Full Moon sprang to their feet, and picked up the fishing-equipment.
`Hold on, I'm coming with you.' Ginger told them, and overtook them as they walked away along the beach of white coral sand.
They went on for some distance, and after examining several places Full Moon stopped at a tiny cove, where the coral dropped sheer into a pool such as Ginger had often tried to imagine. Not a ripple disturbed its surface, and shoals of fish could be seen swimming lazily in the crystal-clear water. From the coral edge to the pool was a drop of anything from two to twenty feet, but there were plenty of natural steps leading down to the water.
A final touch of artistry was supplied by a little group of palms, one of which hung far out over the pool, the fronds touching its faithfully reflected image.
Full Moon baited a hook with a piece of shell-fish, of wh
ich there were vast numbers clinging to the coral, and was soon pulling fish ashore as fast as she could throw out the line. Ginger took a turn, and added to the ever-growing pile of fish of all shapes, sizes, and colours that lay flapping on the bank. 'We've got enough,' he said at last. Ìt's no use killing the poor brutes for the sake of killing them, and it's more like hard work than sport, anyway. I doubt if we shall be able to eat all we've got, as it is.'
`Me swim.' Full Moon threw the line aside and went into the water like an otter. Ginger watched her for a minute as she turned easily this way and that far under the water, as much like a mermaid as a human being could be. Then he began peeling off his shirt. 'I'm going to have a spot of this,' he told Shell-Breaker, who was collecting some fallen coconuts. Kicking off his canvas shoes he went to the edge of the water and looked for the girl. The ripples made by her entry into the pool were lapping gently against the coral; he could see the bottom clearly, but of Full Moon there was no sign. He waited, a feeling of uneasiness fast becoming anxiety as the girl did not reappear. 'Hi! Shell-Breaker! ' he cried, in a high-pitched voice. 'Something's happened to Full Moon.'
The boy dropped the coconuts he was carrying in his 72
arms and ran to the edge of the pool, his eyes scrutinizing every section of it in quick succession. A puzzled look crossed his face. He stared out towards the open lagoon for a minute, and then started working swiftly round the edge of the cove, examining the rough coral walls as he went. The alarm plainly depicted on his face did nothing to allay Ginger's anxiety, which by this time was not far short of panic.
Suddenly Shell-Breaker drew himself up and dived into the water. Ginger ran to the spot.
For a moment he could see nothing owing to the wave-lets caused by Shell-Breaker's plunge; then, as they rippled away and splashed against the coral, he looked eagerly for the Polynesian. There was no sign of him. Ginger stared and stared again, unable to believe his eyes. A minute passed . . . two minutes, and still Shell-Breaker did not reappear. Ginger knew that not even the Polynesian can stay under water much longer than that, and a terrible fear took possession of him. Never had he felt so utterly helpless.
He ran a little way along the coral bank to get a better view of the place where the boy had disappeared, but all he could see was a dark area, as if the water deepened.
It was now more than five minutes since Full Moon had dived into the pool, and he knew that no human being could survive such an immersion. 'An octopus has got her,' he thought, sick with horror, and filled with loathing of the beautiful spot where, nevertheless, death lurked.
He was about to run back to the others in order to tell them what had happened when the water suddenly parted and a head appeared. It was Full Moon. She let out a ripple of laughter.
`Here, what's the game? You nearly frightened me to death,' cried Ginger, angrily, but breathing deeply from relief.
Full Moon's answer was another peal of laughter. 'Me swim,' she called, blowing bubbles on the surface of the water.
`You're not a woman, you're a fish,' sneered Ginger.
Shell-Breaker appeared. They both swam to the edge of the coral where Ginger stood.
Full Moon held up a brown hand. 'Come,' she said.
`Where?' asked Ginger suspiciously.
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`Me show.'
`Show what?'
Bottom of sea. Bottom of sea beautiful.'
'I can see all I want of that from here,' declared Ginger.
`Come,' said Full Moon, again. 'Me show.'
Shell-Breaker joined in. 'Yes, we show,' he said. He pulled himself up on the coral and motioned Ginger to dive. 'Take plenty breath, come with me.'
`No fear.'
`White man afraid—ha.'
Ginger flushed. 'I'm not a blinking eel if you are,' he snorted. 'Anyway, I'll show you if I'
m afraid.' He took a deep breath and dived. He was about to turn upwards when he became aware that Shell-Breaker and Full Moon were on either side of him, beckoning as naturally as if they were on land instead of under water. He followed them, and saw that they were swimming towards a gloomy cave, about twenty feet under the water. He waited for no more, but turning away shot to the surface and pulled himself up on the coral with his legs dangling in the water.
The two natives appeared. Full Moon looked hurt. 'You afraid,' she said, reproachfully. '
You come—plenty air.'
Àir?'
`Plenty air in cave.'
`What about feke?'
`No feke.'
`Right! I'm coming.' Again Ginger took a deep breath
and dived. He saw that the others were beside him, swim-
ming easily towards the cave, and this time he followed
them. To say that he was frightened as he went through
the gloomy entrance would be to put it mildly, but he set his teeth and swam on grimly behind the two figures which were gliding through the water in front of him, still beckoning. His endurance was nearly exhausted. He felt that he
must breathe or die, but he knew that he had already come too far to get back, so he could only go on, hoping that
Full Moon's promise of 'plenty air' was correct. Panic
seized him as something clutched his arm, and he tore it
away, only to see that it was Full Moon trying to help him along. She shot upwards. He followed, and a moment later
his head broke the surface. For a little while he could only gasp; then, looking about him, he saw Full Moon and
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Shell-Breaker sitting on a. ledge of coral in what was clearly a cave, but such a cave as he could never have imagined. He swam up to them and climbed out, and not until then did he realize fully the wonder of the scene about him.
The cave was only a short one, and led to a larger cavity in the coral, the roof of which was above water-level. The beauty of it struck him speechless. It was ethereal, a fairy grotto, blue beyond anything he had ever seen, a deep, unreal, cerulean blue. The water was pure ultramarine, and glowed like blue fire. The drops of water that fell from his legs were blue sparks. At first he could not make out where the light came from; then he perceived that it came through the tunnel, and was refracted by its passage through the water. The result was extraordinary. It was as if the place was illuminated by hidden blue electric lights. He dipped his hand into the water; instantly it glistened silvery-blue, as though he had plunged his hand into cold blue fire rather than water. The whole grotto was charged with such a supernatural light that the appearance of a sea-nymph would not have surprised him. Indeed, the two Polynesians looked more like sirens than human beings.
For some time he sat still, enchanted by the scene, staring at the pellucid sapphire water through which tiny fish moved lazily over a background of white sand, and the iridescent dome overhead. And as he looked a strange feeling came over him that he was no longer on earth, but was a celestial being sitting in a blue cloud.
`This is certainly ,the most incredible place I have ever seen,' he told the others at last.
He knew, of course, that coral is built up by countless millions of minute sea creatures, and that through the ages whole islands have been constructed by this means. Flotsam, such as seaweed, is thrown upon them by the waves; in time it rots and a speck of mould is formed. On this, sooner or later, a seed is washed by the sea, or dropped by a bird; a plant grows, dies, and rots in turn to provide a further quantity of soil capable of supporting a larger plant. This he knew, and he realized that thus had grown Sandy's Island. What he may not have known was that in course of time the coral-makers die; the massive home that they have built loses its strength, and ultimately decays. Coral formations are
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not necessarily solid; cavities are left; and when the coral is dead these are enlarged by the constant action of the water. Such cavities, or holes, may be small or they may be large. The one in which Ginger found himself was exceptionally large, being between thirty and forty feet long and half that distance
in width. From the level of the water to the roof was about twenty feet, and he perceived from the direction of the cave that the grotto was actually under the island; in fact, he judged that the roof could not be more than a few feet below the spot where a few minutes before he had been standing high and dry. In these circumstances it was obvious to him that it would be possible to dig down into the grotto from the outside, and the fact that the air he was breathing was sweet and fresh supported this theory. He could not see them, but he knew that there must be flaws in the coral through which the air could percolate.
At last he rose to his feet. 'I could sit here for hours,' he said, 'but we must be getting back, or the others will wonder what has happened to us.'
Now that he knew the secret he was no longer afraid. He dived into the water, striking out vigorously towards the entrance; the others joined him, and together they shot up to the surface of the pool. 'By gosh! We'll bring the others along here,' declared Ginger, shaking the water off himself. 'But we won't tell them anything about it yet; we'll keep it a secret until they come, and give them a surprise.'
Helping the others to carry the fish, he accompanied them back to the camp.
`You've been a long time,' said Biggles.
`We've been having a swim,' admitted Ginger casually.
0 N each of the next two days they were up at dawn, and quickly away to the pearl-bed, making the most of the ideal weather which Shell-Breaker repeatedly warned them might not last, for the season of storms was approaching. Both Shell-Breaker and Full Moon shared Sandy's confidence that there would be no more f eke in the locality, and they often swam down to him to keep him company, sometimes bringing a shell up with them.
Their behaviour was that of two children on holiday. They teased Ginger so much about his nervousness of the water that on one or two occasions, when Sandy was up for a breather, he dived with them and tried to swim down near them; but he soon discovered that it was much harder than it appeared. Full Moon had told him never to look up when he was deep down in the water, because the distance to the surface was always exaggerated, and somewhat frightening. It was better, she said, to imagine that one was only just under the surface. This, however, only induced Ginger to test the truth of it, and although he was only about thirty feet deep he was appalled by what he saw, and shot upwards in alarm. Under the expert tuition of the two natives, his ability to swim down and remain under water increased rapidly, and by the end of the second day he was disporting himself with them.
21 Biggles In the South Seas Page 8