The White Witch of the South Seas gs-11

by Dennis Wheatley

  'And would you?'

  `I hardly know,' James murmured miserably.

  `Now listen, my boy: Gregory spoke firmly but kindly. `You know very well that this gold means nothing to me. If I had another sixty years to live I couldn't spend all the money I already have. In any case, I had meant to make my share of it over to you. But what does matter is not allowing either de Carvalho or Lacost to get the better of us. The one double crossed us and the other did his best to kill us. And I'll bet you any money you like that neither of those tough eggs is going to get the jitters because that old buffoon has said that he'll have a magic put on them. In a week or so they will be back here with Fijian divers and going to work. The very idea of allowing those blackguards to lift the stuff in front of my eyes makes me as mad as a hatter. But this is your party, and I do appreciate that, your ancestry being different from mine, we have inherited very different mental reactions to certain possibilities. So if you'd rather that we chucked in our hands I'll agree, and think none the worse of you. Now: which is it to be?'

  James hesitated for only a moment, then he said, `You have been so very good to me. I can't let you down. You may be right, that your disbelief in the White Witch's powers will turn her curse aside. Anyhow, I'm game to go through with it.'

  'Good man.' Gregory reached up and patted him on the shoulder. `Then we had best not let the grass grow under our feet. I suggest that first thing tomorrow you find out if the divers here are willing to defy Roboumo and work for us. If they are, we keep the clear lead we have over the enemy. If they refuse, the enemy already has a lead of several days over us; so the sooner we can get to Fiji ourselves and collect some divers the better our chance of catching up.'

  `I'll have myself called early and go down to the town with Aleamotu'a. Between us we can see several of the men, and I should be able to let you know the form at breakfast. While I am down there I'll call in at the church and arrange for candles to be burned to my patron saint every day from now on for your protection.'

  `Thanks, that's very good of you.' Gregory had no great faith himself in the efficacy of burning candles, but he was strongly of the opinion that anyone who had could, by so doing, draw down spiritual strength and powerful influences to aid any good purpose. After a moment he added:

  `I did not know that you were a Roman Catholic:

  `Oh, yes,' James replied cheerfully. `Most people in the Nakapoa group are now at least nominally Catholics, although probably three quarters of them pay only lip service to that religion. You see, the Catholic Fathers and the Protestant missionaries arrived in the South Seas at about the same period. Both, inspired by their faiths, set extraordinary examples of courage and self denial. Here, owing to the influence of France, the Fathers ultimately triumphed. But in the Fijis the Methodists proved more successful; perhaps because they brought their wives with them.'

  `What difference did that make?' Gregory enquired with interest.

  `For one thing, that they should have wives at all made them seem more natural and human to the natives. For another, their women, both British and American, showed remarkable bravery. With the sweat pouring off them, as it must have seeing the layers of clothes they persisted in wearing, and bitten by myriads of mosquitoes, they still went out to nurse the sick and browbeat the natives into abandoning barbaric customs.

  `In the middle of the last century cannibalism was still rife in all these islands. Before his conversion to Christianity King Thakobau boasted of having eaten meat from over a thousand corpses. He employed a whole tribe of warriors from the island of Beqa to do nothing else but kidnap people to

  supply his cooking ovens. Against all odds the missionaries and their wives fought with the greatest tenacity to persuade him to stop eating human flesh, and prevent a Chief's widows from being strangled and buried with him when he died:

  `Do the Chiefs still practice polygamy?' Gregory asked.

  James shook his head. `Not since they accepted Lotu, as Christianity is called. Many of them in the outer islands still keep concubines; but not the High Chiefs such as the Ratu’s of Fiji.'

  `And how about yourself? Attached to the household of such a fine specimen of manhood I should have expected there to be half a dozen pretty young women.'

  `There were four,' James admitted with a smile. `But on the morning of our arrival I sent them away. I should have, in any case, when I married, as I expected to do, a Princess of the royal families of either Fiji or Tonga. But since I met Olinda in Brazil my thoughts are all of her. I have no desire for any other woman, although it seems that the chances of making her my wife are very slender.!

  'I fear that is so. As she is a Roman Catholic, that rules out a divorce. I suppose, though, as she has no children, she might manage to get an annulment?'

  `Even if de Carvalho consented which I am sure he would not that would prove a long and costly business. As things are, I fear it is equally out of the question:

  By then it was past one o'clock. Gregory yawned and stood up. `Since you will be getting up early in the morning I think we'd best get to bed.' From the garden there continued to come the sound of low, rather mournful, singing, and he added, `They are still at it out there. What time will they pack up?'

  James looked rather surprised. `They won't. That is, not until dawn. Later, when the yaggona begins to make them a little tipsy, the singing will get a bit ragged. But the idea is that they should sing us into pleasant dreams, and they are thoroughly enjoying themselves.'

  When they met for breakfast James said, `It is as I feared. Between us, Aleamotu'a and I saw five of our best divers, and they all refused to play. None of them acknowledged that it was because they had been threatened by Roboumo. They made various excuses not well enough themselves, a member of their family very ill, the loss of a job which, if they threw it up, they might not get back later on, and so on.'

  Gregory nodded. 'Then it has come to a race between ourselves and the others. Immediately after breakfast we'll get off a telegram to Hunt's to send a private aircraft to fetch us and to engage rooms for us at the Grand Pacific.'

  `No!' James shook his big mop of hair. `It's no good our "going to Suva. The natives on Viti Levu, with very few exceptions, don't go in any more for diving as a living. They can make more money working in the hotels, driving trucks and acting as casual labourers for the shopkeepers. We must go to the outer islands to get the type of man we want. Probably the best are to be found in the Lau Group. But that is two hundred miles to the east of the main island; and we'll have to go in a big launch to pick them up. It would be much quicker to go to the Yasawas, on this side of Viti Levu. They are no great distance from Lautoka, and you could ask Hunt's to engage a big launch for us there.'

  A message to that effect was duly written out and sent down by a runner to the telegraph office. They then collected their towels and went out to have a dip in the pool. When Gregory had walked the few yards from his bedroom bure to the main one he had noticed that the sky was overcast and that there was a slight drizzle; but as they went out into the garden he was amazed at the complete change of scene from the previous day. The distant islands could no longer be seen, neither could the horns of the big bay. The sea was no longer a deep blue, nor the sky a vault of azure. For the limited distance that could now be seen beyond the harbour, the sea was grey; the yellow had gone out of the palm fronds and they now looked a darkish green. Water dripped dismally from the big, shiny leaves of the nearest trees and much of the colour seemed to have left the flowers. Altogether, it was a gloomy and depressing scene.

  Remarking on the change from the two previous days,

  Gregory asked, `Is it often like this?'

  `Oh, yes.' James shrugged. `Sometimes it dries up in a few hours; at other's the rain goes on for weeks. When the breeze drops, as it has now, and the humidity increases, it can become very unpleasant. But we are quite used to it and everyone continues to work or go for a swim just the same.'

  Gregory spent the morning readi
ng, while James went down to the town and saw to numerous business affairs. He returned with a reply from Hunt's: an aircraft would arrive to pick them up at 1500 hours approximately, rooms had been booked for them at the Cathay Hotel, Lautoka, and arrangements about a launch were being made for them there.

  Having lunched off a `fish plate' which consisted of delicious fresh crab meat, walu, the best local fish, and big prawns, followed by fruit, they were driven in the jeep down to the little airport. The weather had not improved and on the lower levels the mist was so thick that they feared the pilot might not be able to find the landing strip. But James had flares lit, and the aircraft came down safely only a quarter of an hour after its E.T.A.

  Soon after they had taken off they passed out of the clouds' and caught a glimpse of Tujoa's peak rising above them. Their journey was then uneventful. Hunt's had a car ready to meet them at Nandi, and by half past six they were at the Cathay Hotel, Lautoka.

  After dinner there that evening Gregory said:

  `I've been thinking, James, about the next few days. As I don't speak Fijian, I should not be the least help to you in arranging with the petty Chiefs in the islands for the hire of divers; and the Mamanucas lie only a little to the south of the Yasawas. By now Manon has probably given up all hope of ever seeing me again, but I'm sure she would be pleased to; so I'd like you to drop me off on her island.'

  James grinned at him and raised one eyebrow. Gregory grinned back and went on

  `You're quite right, my boy. While you labour in the heat of the day I'll toil not neither will I spin, but I may do a few other things. When you have collected your team you can come and pick me up; then we'll make all steam back to Tujoa.'

  Next morning, Hunt's representative took them along the wharf and aboard the Southern Cross, a cabin cruiser that could accommodate a dozen passengers, and introduced them to her Captain, Bob Wyndhoik a tubby, brown skinned little man who, it transpired, had a mixed ancestry of Dutch, Indonesian and Maori and had been born in New Zealand.

  He said they were lucky to get him, as he had been booked to take a party of Americans for a week's trip round the islands, but it had been cancelled the day before; and, at the moment, there was no other boat of the size they wanted available at Lautoka.

  When told what his boat was required for, he said that he would be taking on stores during the morning, so could sail that afternoon. But he stipulated that any divers they collected must sleep on deck. James said that was customary and a price was agreed; then he and Gregory went ashore to get some Fijian money from the bank on the corner of the main street, and do some shopping.

  On the top of a slope opposite the hotel stood the Lautoka Club, which had a fine view over the bay and a big swimming pool By courtesy of the secretary, they had drinks and a swim there before lunch. After the meal they had their baggage taken down to the Southern Cross and went aboard.

  The weather was clement and the blue sea only slightly choppy, so, when they were well clear of the inshore reefs, Captain Bob Wyndhoik came and sat himself down beside them, under the awning shading the after deck. He proved a cheerful, garrulous little man and, having spent over fifteen years in the Fijis, knew a lot about them.

  An outrigger canoe beating towards Lautoka swept past them, tilted right over, her triangular sail lying at an angle of forty five degrees from the surface of the sea. 'Ah!' exclaimed the rotund Bob. `Look at her! What a sight for you! Them Fijians certainly are good sailors. Time was when they built the finest canoes in all the Pacific. Great double ones with decks fifteen or more feet wide above the two hulls, and a thatched house on the stern for the Chiefs to live in when they went on long voyages. They was long voyages, too.

  Down to Tonga, up to Samoa, across to Tahiti, way south to New Zealand or east to New Caledonia and the Solomon’s. Even all way up to Hawaii they went, and that's close on three thousand mile.'

  `Still more amazing,' Gregory put in, `many centuries ago great numbers of them decided to emigrate, and sailed in their canoes through the East Indies, and right across the Indian Ocean to Madagascar.'

  `True enough, sir. That was the Polynesians, though. Them is a fair skinned lot, and much more knowledgeable, as you might say. But the Fijians built the best canoes. Why, old King Thakobau built one as a present for his pal, King George of Tonga, that was over a hundred foot long, and could carry a hundred warriors. Took seven years to build her, it did. That was way back in the early forties, when the practice still was to christen a new canoe with a human sacrifice. Not content with that, they clubbed a few poor goops to make a nice foundation before they laid down the keel. In this case, a couple of missionary gents called Lyth and Hunt persuaded them to cut out any further bloodletting when the great canoe was launched and not to do the usual on her maiden voyage, which was to collar some unsuspecting feller at each port of call and bust his head open on the prow.

  `But when they got her to Ban, the island from which eastern Fiji was ruled, there was an accident. As the tall mast was lowered for the first time, its heel slipped and it killed a man. Old King Thak took that as a sign that the gods were angry 'cos the usual sacrifices had not been made before she were delivered to him. He promptly put things right by having twenty one undesirables hunted out and clubbed to death.'

  `Keeping alive in those days must have been a pretty chancy business for ordinary people,' Gregory remarked.,

  `It was, sir. You'd never believe how cruel them old Chiefs could be. They bought it themselves, though, when they got old and sick. The young blood who was to step into a Chief's shoes just couldn't wait till his old man died. It was common practice for them to bury their pas alive.

  'Another thing. Every time they built a bure they had a special drill for keeping the evil spirits away. Into each hole where they meant to put one of them great pared tree trunks that hold the building upright, they put a living man. Then they lowered the trunk, made the poor bugger embrace it, and shovelled in the earth atop of him, till he couldn't breathe no more and gave up the ghost.'

  Looking across at James, Gregory gave a wicked little smile. `I take it that goes for Tujoa, too?'

  With a slightly embarrassed look, James returned his smile. `I fear so. If anyone decided to do away with my bure they would find in the foundations quite a number of human skeletons. In view of the beliefs of my forefathers, I suppose that's quite understandable. But it does seem pretty awful that they did not club the poor wretches before stuffing them down into the holes.'

  Bob took him up. `For this purpose that wouldn't have seemed right to them, Ratu. All the same, the Melanesians were great boys with their clubs. They had spears and, some of them, bows and arrows. But they used them most times for hunting. Clubs were the thing. They even used them on girls they wanted for their wives. Just a light tap on the head, no more, then the young lady was carried back for you know what in the chap's bure. But early in the last century the

  Ratu Kadava Levu introduced a new custom at his capital, Bau Island. He assembled all the shy bachelors and unmarried girls. Made them sit in two lines facing each other. Then each man in turn rolled an orange to a girl he liked the look of. If the lady liked the look of the young man she rolled the orange back. Then, hooray, wedding feast a few days later. If not, nothing doing.!

  'That was a much more civilised way of doing things,' Gregory commented with a smile.

  Bob nodded. `Pretty good idea, providing the orange ran to the girl it was aimed at. Later the missionaries took over and the marriage ceremony became a sort of hell fire warning with “dos” and “don'ts”. Many couples, though, escaped that. Old black crow missionaries could not be everywhere

  and young people got tired of waiting. So when a British

  Resident came round he just waved a Union Jack over the couple and that was O.K. by all.'

  Half an hour before the sun was due to set they were approaching Manon's island. As Bob Wyndhoik brought the cruiser in to the anchorage, Gregory was having pleasant thoughts about M
anon. In his mind's eye he visualised again her unusual but attractive face. Somehow the receding chin and sallow complexion did not seem to matter. Her eyes were magnificent and her laughter infectious. Her body was something to dream about: the firm, rounded breasts, the narrow waist, the perfectly formed ‘legs below the powerful hips, and that alluring `V' of crisp black curls on the lower part of her flat stomach. He recalled, too, her wild abandon gasping, crying out endearments and pleas to be ravished more forcefully each time he had possessed her. The week that lay ahead promised him a renewal of all those pleasures.

  The motor cruiser anchored; a small speed boat was lowered from her stern and Gregory and James were taken ashore. On the beach old Joe Joe met them. He smiled a greeting, but seemed downcast. When Gregory asked for his mistress he replied

  `Madame not here, Madame not here since ten, eleven days. She in Suva. But she lend house to friends. Frenchmen from Tahiti. They come in dirty old tub of yacht. Two live here all time. Others sail off up to Yasawas wanting to get divers. Last night all come back here. Make much merry_ Then, this morning, bad thing happen. They walk across island to swim from best beach on far side. On the head of one a coconut fall. They bring him back and he is dead.'

  Gregory's brows knit and he asked sharply, `What did they do with the body?'

  Joe Joe looked surprised… `Why, Master, they bury it. Just beyond garden. Here peoples must bury soon after death. If taken back to Suva, long before they arrive body would have made great stink.'

  `I appreciate that,' Gregory agreed. `But I should like to see the grave. Please take us to it.'

  Obediently Joe Joe led them through the palms and an orange grove to a small clearing. In the centre there was the mound of a newly made grave. There were flowers on it and from one end rose a roughly made wooden cross. Gregory leaned forward to look at the cross and saw that no name had been carved on it.