The Boat's Crew, With Rifles At The Ready, Kept
Them Lined Up A Hundred Feet Away With A Promise Of Death If They
Ventured Nearer.
And there they clung, a hundred feet away, black
and ominous, crowded with men, holding their canoes with their
paddles on the perilous edge of the breaking surf.
In the meantime
the bushmen were flocking down from the hills armed with spears,
Sniders, arrows, and clubs, until the beach was massed with them.
To complicate matters, at least ten of our recruits had been
enlisted from the very bushmen ashore who were waiting hungrily for
the loot of the tobacco and trade goods and all that we had on
board.
The Minota was honestly built, which is the first essential for any
boat that is pounding on a reef. Some idea of what she endured may
be gained from the fact that in the first twenty-four hours she
parted two anchor-chains and eight hawsers. Our boat's crew was
kept busy diving for the anchors and bending new lines. There were
times when she parted the chains reinforced with hawsers. And yet
she held together. Tree trunks were brought from ashore and worked
under her to save her keel and bilges, but the trunks were gnawed
and splintered and the ropes that held them frayed to fragments, and
still she pounded and held together. But we were luckier than the
Ivanhoe, a big recruiting schooner, which had gone ashore on Malaita
several months previously and been promptly rushed by the natives.
The captain and crew succeeded in getting away in the whale-boats,
and the bushmen and salt-water men looted her clean of everything
portable.
Squall after squall, driving wind and blinding rain, smote the
Minota, while a heavier sea was making. The Eugenie lay at anchor
five miles to windward, but she was behind a point of land and could
not know of our mishap. At Captain Jansen's suggestion, I wrote a
note to Captain Keller, asking him to bring extra anchors and gear
to our aid. But not a canoe could be persuaded to carry the letter.
I offered half a case of tobacco, but the blacks grinned and held
their canoes bow-on to the breaking seas. A half a case of tobacco
was worth three pounds. In two hours, even against the strong wind
and sea, a man could have carried the letter and received in payment
what he would have laboured half a year for on a plantation. I
managed to get into a canoe and paddle out to where Mr. Caulfeild
was running an anchor with his whale-boat. My idea was that he
would have more influence over the natives. He called the canoes up
to him, and a score of them clustered around and heard the offer of
half a case of tobacco. No one spoke.
"I know what you think," the missionary called out to them. "You
think plenty tobacco on the schooner and you're going to get it.
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