At Port Resolution, In
The New Hebrides, Martin Elected To Walk Barefooted In The Bush And
Returned On Board With Many Cuts And Abrasions, Especially On His
Shins.
"You'd better be careful," I warned him.
"I'll mix up some
corrosive sublimate for you to wash those cuts with. An ounce of
prevention, you know."
But Martin smiled a superior smile. Though he did not say so. I
nevertheless was given to understand that he was not as other men (I
was the only man he could possibly have had reference to), and that
in a couple of days his cuts would be healed. He also read me a
dissertation upon the peculiar purity of his blood and his
remarkable healing powers. I felt quite humble when he was done
with me. Evidently I was different from other men in so far as
purity of blood was concerned.
Nakata, the cabin-boy, while ironing one day, mistook the calf of
his leg for the ironing-block and accumulated a burn three inches in
length and half an inch wide. He, too, smiled the superior smile
when I offered him corrosive sublimate and reminded him of my own
cruel experience. I was given to understand, with all due suavity
and courtesy, that no matter what was the matter with my blood, his
number-one, Japanese, Port-Arthur blood was all right and scornful
of the festive microbe.
Wada, the cook, took part in a disastrous landing of the launch,
when he had to leap overboard and fend the launch off the beach in a
smashing surf.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 283 of 305
Words from 74939 to 75202
of 80724
