“It is Ngau’s boat,” said Tuisunga.
“What dost thou want for the boat?” demanded the priest.
“Five dollars and a tin of biscuit,” replied Ngau, promptly; “and if it be wrecked, one hundred and twelve dollars, a water-bottle, and a coil of rope as thick as a man’s thumb.”
“I will take it on myself,” said Father Zosimus. “I am poor; I belong to a faith that thou deridest; yet my heart is not weak and fearful like thine. I will answer for thy boat, Chief Ngau, before all these gentlemen as witnesses.”
“O le tino tupe lava [hard money]” inquired Ngau, “to be put in my hand before the young men touch my boat?”
“I have not so much,” cried the priest. “I have not money in my house like drinking-nuts. It comes this month, and that a little at a time. But I tell thee truly, I will pay thee every seni.”
The owner of the boat shook his head.
“I want one hundred and twelve dollars,” he said, “a water-bottle, and a coil of rope as thick as my thumb.”
“Why dost thou call thyself chief of this village, Tuisunga?” demanded the priest. “The only chief I see here is Ngau. He speaks: we obey. It matters not what I want, or what thou wishest, or whether the pastor’s wife lies dying. It is his Majesty Ngau who is King of Fangaloa. Thy power is no stronger than that of an untattooed boy.”
“But it is Ngau’s boat,” said Tuisunga, looking very black.