“You are a plucky fellow,” said the captain, “and deserve good luck. Here, take this dollar, and tie it up in the corner of your waistcloth. You can buy yourself some tobacco from the white trader at Salelelogo.”
“Ah, yes, indeed. But” (and here he dropped into Samoan again, and turned to me) “I would that the good captain would take me as a sailor for his next voyage. I was for five years with Captain Macleod of Nouméa. And I am a good man—honest, and no boaster.”
I shook my head. “It cannot be. From Mulifanua we go to Apia. And there will be news there of what thou hast done yesterday, and we cannot hide a man on this small ship.” And then I asked the captain what he thought of the request.
“We ought to try and work it,” said the skipper. “If he was five years with Jock Macleod he's all right.”
We questioned him further, and he satisfied us as to his bona-fides, giving us the names of many men—captains and traders—known to us intimately.
“Vanâki,” I said, “this is what may be done, but you must be quick, for presently we shall be close to the passage off Saleleloga, and must go about. When you land, go to Miti-loa the chief, and talk to him privately. There is bad blood between his people and those of Mulifanua——”
“I know it. It has been so for two years past.”
“Now, listen. Miti-loa and the captain here and I are good friends. Tell him that you have seen us. Hide nothing from him of yesterday. He is a strong man.”
“I know it. Who does not, in this part of Samoa know of Miti-loa?” {*}
“That is true. And Miti knows us two papalagi{**} well. Stay with him, work for him, and do all that he may ask. He will ask but little—perhaps nothing. In twenty days from now, this ship will be at Apia ready for sea again. We go to the Tokelaus” (Gilbert Islands) “or else to the Solomons, and if thou comest on board in the night who is to know of it but Miti-loa and thyself?”