“Me? Why, me be one big man, son one chief. Fader he name Wanga; me him name Calla. Fader he lib along of there,” pointing to the island we were steering for. “Aneitou him name. One white he stay there comprar[[3]] copra, bechmer, shell—all kind. Now one moon and one bit, me come to here for find copra, slug, sandalwood, and make plenty trade what time mountain he blow. Dem island nigger say he be me, and catch me” (and on his fingers he counted carefully). “Two ten and two men live along of me. Plenty kiki. Kiki one and two ten, and then come where him boy come. Kill one man, two man, and make right kill me, when white boy he shoot, and nigger he tumble so.”
“Well, now, in your island—Aneitou, you call it—you say there’s a white man.”
“One man live there many yam time, and what time ship come plenty square gin. My! den he drink.”
“When does a ship come?”
“Sometime one yam time, sometime two, sometime three yam time.”
“You see, mates, there’s a chance. A ship looks in once in one, two, or three years; and I suppose this white man is some drunken old beach-comber. Anyway, we won’t be eaten there,” said Tom.
“What are you looking at, Johnny,” interrupted Bill, for he noticed that Calla was evidently anxiously looking at the island we had left.
“Be still, white man. Man flog war-drum for fight. Me look see where war-canoe come.”
“What?” we cried all together; “a war-canoe in chase of us! Do you see one?”
“No, me no see; but me sabey what time man flog war-drum, all same that. Plenty soon all man go for war-canoe.”