We headed for the shore about a mile above the settlement, and made a landing in a shallow cove. My companion lifted out the girl’s body and waded with it ashore, carrying the yellow bundle by his teeth like a dog. I followed him in silence as he passed into the scrub and tramped heavily towards the weather side of the island. We emerged on a wide and glaring beach, on which, as far as the eye could reach, a furious surf was thundering. Lum laid his burden down beneath the shade of a palm, and set himself to dig a grave with the cleaver. As he toiled the sweat rolled off him in great beads and his saturated clothes stuck to him as though he had been soaked in water. Once or twice he rested, wiping his hands and face on my handkerchief, and smoking the cigarette I rolled for him. It must have been a couple of hours before the grave was finished to his liking, for he was particular to have it deep and well squared. Then he opened the little bundle that had served so long for Elsie’s pillow, and took from it a roll of magenta-coloured silk, some artificial flowers, a packet of sweet-smelling leaves, and a number of red tissue-paper sheets printed with gilt Chinese characters. The silk he used to partly cover the bottom of the grave; the flowers and fragrant leaves were placed at the end where her head would lie; and all being thus ready for her last bed, the two of us lowered her sorrowfully into it. This done, Lum shrouded her in the remnant of the silk, and we filled up the grave together, shovelling the sand in with our hands.
Lum took the pieces of red tissue-paper, and laid some on the ground to mark the place, pinning a dozen more to the neighbouring shrubs and trees, where they fluttered in the boisterous trade. Some got away altogether and went scudding along the beach or out to sea, and one blew high in the air like a kite. Lum watched them for a while in silence, and then, with a sigh, turned about to recross the island.
“A week ago she little thought this would be her end,” I said, half to myself.
I shall never forget the look Lum gave me. The self-reproach and shame of it was too poignant for words.
“I think you and me all same coward,” he said.