“I am the medical officer of this stranded vessel, the Chusan, upon which you have trespassed; and I hold her in charge for the company of owners until they send a relief expedition to reclaim or salvage her.”
“That all?” said the man, with a hoarse laugh. “That for you, then, and all you say,” and he snapped his fingers in the doctor’s face. “Now, look here, my fine fellow, I’m Dan Mallam, Beachcomber (see note), as they call me, King o’ the Pearl Islands, dealer and merchant in copra, pearl shells, and pearls. These are my reefs and islands. This is my estate, and all flotsam and jetsam as is washed ashore is mine. Do you hear me?—mine, to do as I likes with. This steamer’s come ashore on my land, and my black lads, as has been out shelling and collecting nuts, saw it come and tell me, who have come over to see what the sea has washed me up this time, for I’ve been getting short o’ odds and ends, and the rum was getting low. There was the steamer, empty and cast away, and I’ve took possession, when you come and begin bullying and pretending you’ve got a claim on her.”
“Claim on her, you scoundrelly pirate!” cried the doctor. “Why, men have been transported for life for what you are attempting to do.”
The man scowled at the word transportation, and his right hand went to one of the holsters, whose flap he pressed over the stud so as to lay bare the butt of the pistol within. This he drew out and cocked.
“I just warn you to be civil, my fine fellow,” he said. “I’ve only to say a word to my black fellows, and, in spite of your kicking, over you’d go into water that swarms with sharks; but when a man insults me, Dan Mallam, King o’ the Pearl Islands, my temper gets warm, and I show my boys what a shot I am. Do you hear?”
The pistol clicked, and sent a shudder through Carey, who started at the ominous sound and looked wildly round for the guns, in the mad idea that he might be able to catch one up, load it, and fire in defence of the man towards whom he felt as if he were an elder brother. But the guns were all in the hands of the blacks, and others had possession of the satchels containing the cartridges.
Second thoughts convinced him that such an attempt could only result in the ruffian carrying out one of his threats, for he was beyond the reach of the law, if he were, as he said, a dweller in some neighbouring island, ruling probably over a little tribe of blacks.
What was to be done?
Just then the doctor spoke.
“Look here,” he said, “I do not wish to insult you, but I am not going to give up to a man who is acting as you are. I tell you once more, I hold this vessel in my charge, and I am prepared to defend it on behalf of the owners.”