"I did," growled Jansen (edging towards his cabin, in which he always kept loaded firearms), his sullen face showing fear and hatred combined.
"Keep to the deck, sir," broke forth the Captain, who had foreseen this movement; the harsh, severe tones I knew foretold disaster. "D—n you, sir, you are neither good enough for an officer nor man before the mast. There is not a kanaka on board this brig but could have rigged that tackle in a seaman-like manner. Boy George, or even one of the girls, could have made a better fist of it. You have disgraced the brig in the presence of other ships. Go to your bunk till after breakfast."
And now Jansen brought immediate punishment on himself. With one hand on the door of the deckhouse, he turned round and muttered, "Why didn't you let the women do it, then?"
The next moment both men were struggling fiercely on the deck,—Jansen making frantic efforts to fire a pistol he had concealed in the bosom of his shirt; but the hand which held it was gripped by the Captain, and the muzzle pointed upwards.
Jansen was an extremely powerful man, and, amid the babel of tongues that were let loose, I heard one trader say, "By ——! he's got the best of the Captain."
But I noticed that while Jansen was almost spent, and was breathing stertorously, the Captain had not yet put forth the tremendous strength which, on sea or shore, I never saw equalled. He was still holding Jansen's hand with a vice-like grasp, when the pistol fell to the deck. Suddenly freeing himself, he stepped back and dealt two blows with wonderful quickness on the mate's face, cutting his forehead and cheek to the bone. The man staggered wildly—his features streaming with blood—then fell senseless against one of the crew, who darted aside and let him drop on the deck. A murmur of applause, mingled with cries of pity from the women, arose from the spectators, while the whaler crews rent the air with cheers for "Bully Hayston."
The Captain drew forth his handkerchief, with which he removed a slight stain upon his face, then said in a mild and pleasant voice, as if nothing had occurred, "Steward! bring me a glass of water. Bill (to the Fijian) get these other beasts up and put them ashore. Antonio! get Jansen's traps together, and put them and him into the boat. The man that points a pistol at me on board of this brig only does it once. As I don't wish to hurt him again, I must get rid of him."
The cattle were soon landed and eating their fill on the rich tract of littoral between Utwé and Coquille.
That day I bought various articles of trade—including ten tons of yams for Arrecifos. The Captain never interfered with my dealings with the natives; so when Likiak Sâ the missionary went to him, and in a whining tone complained of my paying them in trade, he got the following answer: "Don't want your people to be paid in trade, don't you? Precisely so! you white chokered schemer—you whited sepulchre! you want to see these hard-working slaves of natives paid in cash, so that you and your brethren may rob the poor devils of every dollar for church tithes. The supercargo has my fullest confidence, and will not rob any native of a cent. Go and talk to him."
The missionary came to the trade-room, where I was selling pigeon shot and powder to a man named Sree, and said that he wished the natives paid in cash. Every Strong's islander can speak English. So I turned to those present and asked if I had suggested their taking trade instead of dollars. On receiving this answer in the negative I told him to clear out. He disregarded me, upon which I assisted him to leave the cabin, while Lālia and Kitty covered him with flour from the pantry.