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south sea tales(南海传说)-第23部分

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has been thousands of dollars。 The head clerk has given me this paper。 It 

says that in the year you have drawn just eighty…seven dollars and twenty 

cents。〃 

     〃Is there any owing me?〃 he asked anxiously。 

     〃I tell you thousands and thousands;〃 I answered。 

     His face brightened; as with an immense relief。 

     〃It is well;〃 he said。 〃See that the head clerk keeps good account of it。 

When I want it; I shall want it; and there must not be a cent missing。 

     〃If there is;:〃 he added fiercely; after a pause; 〃it must come out of the 

clerk's wages。〃 

     And     all  the  time;  as   I  afterwards    learned;   his   will;  drawn    up   by 

Carruthers; and making me sole beneficiary; lay in the American consul's 

safe。 

     But the end came; as the end must come to all human associations。 

     It occurred in the Solomons; where our wildest work had been done in 

the   wild   young   days;   and   where   we   were   once   more   principally   on   a 

holiday;   incidentally   to   look   after   our   holdings   on   Florida   Island   and   to 

look   over   the  pearling   possibilities of   the   Mboli   Pass。 We   were   lying   at 

Savo; having run in to trade for curios。 

     Now;   Savo   is   alive   with   sharks。   The   custom   of   the   woolly…heads   of 

burying their dead in the sea did not tend to discourage the sharks from 

making the adjacent waters a hangout。 It was my luck to be coming aboard 

in a tiny; overloaded; native canoe; when the thing capsized。 There were 

four woolly…heads and myself in it; or rather; hanging to it。 The schooner 

was a hundred yards away。 

     I was just hailing for a boat when one of the woolly…heads began to 

scream。 Holding on to the end of the canoe; both he and that portion of the 

canoe   were   dragged   under   several   times。  Then   he   loosed   his   clutch   and 

disappeared。 A shark had got him。 

     The three remaining niggers tried to climb out of the water upon the 

bottom of the canoe。 I yelled and cursed and struck at the nearest with my 

fist; but it was no use。 They were in a blind funk。 The canoe could barely 

have     supported    one   of   them。   Under     the  three   it  upended    and    rolled 

sidewise; throwing them back into the water。 



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     I  abandoned       the  canoe    and   started   to  swim    toward     the  schooner; 

expecting   to   be   picked   up   by   the   boat   before   I   got   there。   One   of   the 

niggers elected to come with me; and we swam along silently; side by side; 

now   and   again   putting   our   faces   into   the   water   and   peering   about   for 

sharks。 The screams of the man who stayed by the canoe informed us that 

he was taken。 I was peering into the water when I saw a big shark pass 

directly beneath me。 He was fully sixteen feet in length。 I saw the whole 

thing。 He got the woolly…head by the middle; and away he went; the poor 

devil; head; shoulders; and arms out of the water all the time; screeching in 

a   heart…rending   way。   He   was   carried   along   in   this   fashion   for   several 

hundred feet; when he was dragged beneath the surface。 

     I swam  doggedly  on;  hoping   that that   was the   last unattached   shark。 

But there   was another。 Whether it   was one   that had   attacked the natives 

earlier; or whether it was one that had made a good meal elsewhere; I do 

not know。 At any rate; he was not in such haste as the others。 I could not 

swim so rapidly now; for a large part of my effort was devoted to keeping 

track of him。 I was watching him when he made his first attack。 By good 

luck   I   got   both   hands   on   his   nose;   and;   though   his   momentum   nearly 

shoved me under; I managed to keep him off。 He veered clear; and began 

circling about again。 A second time I escaped him by the same manoeuvre。 

The third   rush was   a  miss on both   sides。 He  sheered   at the  moment   my 

hands should have landed on his nose; but his sandpaper hide (I had on a 

sleeveless     undershirt)     scraped    the   skin   off   one   arm    from    elbow     to 

shoulder。 

     By this time I was played out; and gave up hope。 The schooner was 

still two hundred feet away。 My face was in the water; and I was watching 

him    manoeuvre       for  another    attempt;    when    I  saw   a  brown     body   pass 

between us。 It was Otoo。 

     〃Swim   for   the   schooner;   master!〃   he   said。   And   he   spoke   gayly;   as 

though     the   affair  was   a  mere    lark。  〃I  know    sharks。    The   shark   is  my 

brother。〃 

     I obeyed; swimming slowly on; while Otoo swam about me; keeping 

always between me and the shark; foiling his rushes and encouraging me。 

     〃The   davit   tackle   carried   away;   and   they   are   rigging   the   falls;〃   he 



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explained; a minute or so later; and then went under to head off another 

attack。 

     By the time the schooner was thirty feet away I was about done for。 I 

could   scarcely   move。 They  were   heaving   lines   at   us   from  on   board;  but 

they continually fell short。 The shark; finding that it was receiving no hurt; 

had become bolder。 Several times it nearly got me; but each time Otoo was 

there just the moment before it was too late。 Of course; Otoo could have 

saved himself any time。 But he stuck by me。 

     〃Good…by; Charley! I'm finished!〃 I just managed to gasp。 

     I   knew   that   the   end   had   come;   and   that   the   next   moment   I   should 

throw up my hands and go down。 

     But Otoo laughed in my face; saying: 

     〃I will show you a new trick。 I will make that shark feel sick!〃 

     He dropped in behind me; where the shark was preparing to come at 

me。 

     〃A little more to the left!〃 he next called out。 〃There is a line there on 

the water。 To the left; masterto the left!〃 

     I changed my course and struck out blindly。 I was by that time barely 

conscious。 As my hand closed on the line I heard an exclamation from on 

board。 I turned and looked。 There was no sign of Otoo。 The next instant he 

broke   surface。   Both   hands     were   off   at   the  wrist;   the   stumps  spouting 

blood。 

     〃Otoo!〃   he   called   softly。   And   I   could   see   in   his   gaze   the   love   that 

thrilled in his voice。 

     Then; and then only; at the very last of all our years; he called me by 

that name。 

     〃Good…by; Otoo!〃 he called。 

     Then he was dragged under; and I was hauled aboard; where I fainted 

in the captain's arms。 

     And   so   passed   Otoo;   who   saved   me   and   made   me   a   man;   and   who 

saved me in the end。 We met in the maw of a hurricane; and parted in the 

maw of a shark; with seventeen intervening years of comradeship; the like 

of which I dare to assert has never befallen two men; the one brown and 

the other white。 If Jehovah be from His high place watching every sparrow 



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fall; not least in His kingdom shall be Otoo; the one heathen of Bora Bora。 



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          THE TERRIBLE SOLOMONS 



     There is no gainsaying that the   Solomons are a hard…bitten bunch   of 

islands。 On the other hand; there are worse places in the world。 But to the 

new chum who has no constitutional understanding of men and life in the 

rough; the Solomons may indeed prove terrible。 

     It is true that fever and dysentery are perpetually on the walk…about; 

that loathsome skin diseases abound; that the air is saturated with a poison 

that bites into every pore; cut; or abrasion and plants malignant ulcers; and 

that   many   strong   men   who   escape   dying   there   return   as   wrecks   to   their 

own countries。       It is also true that the natives of the Solomons are a wild 

lot; with a hearty appetite for human flesh and a fad for collecting human 

heads。 Their highest instinct of sportsmanship is to catch a man with his 

back turned and to smite him a cunning blow with a tomahawk that severs 

the spinal column at the base of the brain。           It is equally true that on some 

islands; such as Malaita; the profit and loss account of social intercourse is 

calculated   in   homicides。   Heads   are   a   medium   of   exchange;   and   white 

heads are extremely valuable。 Very often a dozen villages make a jack…pot; 

which   they   fatten   moon   by   moon;   against   the   time   when   some   brave 

warrior presents a white man's head; fresh and
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