A United States Midshipman in the South Seas

by Yates Stirling

When the count and Klinger reached the consulate the rebel chiefs laid before them the plan which they had been discussing among themselves. On request of the count, Kataafa so far transgressed the ancient Kapuan custom as to talk without the delay of speaking through the “talking man,” while Klinger readily translated his well chosen and eloquent words.

He desired the count to be at the head of the government as governor. To take the place of chief justice of Kapua—to hoist the Herzovinian flag by the side of the Kapuan flag and by so doing receive the support of their war-ship. Further, he had written a “cry”[32] which he desired be sent to the king of the count’s country, asking annexation. He said the Kapuans were but children, and Kapua was but a bone between three hungry dogs. He feared the coming of more war-ships, and would willingly leave everything in the count’s wise hands.

Count Rosen was deeply thoughtful. The wanton pillage of the Kataafa warriors and their barbarous killing and beheading of the native supporters of the chief justice’s choice for king had greatly shocked him. He had failed to appreciate the natural cruelty of even the gentlest savages when their primitive passion for bloodshed is aroused. Now to accept this petition and hoist the flag could not be considered. If there had been no bloodshed, then his countrymen at home might have upheld him if he hoisted the flag and even formally annexed the islands. But he could offer as his excuse in accepting the office of governor the desire to bring about peace and allow the commerce of the islands to continue unchecked and in accordance with civilized law. But first he must feel his ground slowly. The other two Powers looked on with jealous eyes.

“I cannot be chief justice,” he said after a long pause, “until Judge Lindsay has resigned that office. Send and ask him to continue in that position, and if he refuses, Kataafa has the right to appoint another.”

A letter was quickly written and dispatched. Within a half hour a verbal answer was returned to the effect that Judge Lindsay did not recognize any king of Kapua save Panu, and that he, Lindsay, was yet the chief justice.

The count smiled sardonically.

“I shall accept the position of governor and perform also the duties of chief justice,” he said, “under the de facto government, but annexation we shall discuss later. First we must begin to repair all damage done, especially to the foreigners.”

Kataafa and his chiefs withdrew. They smiled triumphantly. They believed all trouble had been lifted from their shoulders. This man, the count, had relieved them of all disagreeable consequences of their acts of violence. The men-of-war were undoubtedly afraid of him. So argued the chiefs of the rebel leader. Upon the announcement that the count was to be the adviser of Kataafa, the papalangi had carried their sailors back to their ships. Now, since the count was equal to the king or governor, maybe the war-ships would sail away “under the sea” and not return. The other war-ships that people said were coming would be afraid to let loose their thunder when they learned that this count and representative of a powerful papalangi king was at the head of the new government. With these quieting thoughts the stately chiefs filed out of the consulate and turned toward the king’s residence at Kulinuu.

Count Rosen was not afraid of the consequences of his act. He gloried in the thought that his country was nearer a settlement of the Kapuan difficulty than she had ever been. Yet there were points in the proceedings which gave him considerable concern. The principal one was his knowledge that the American commander had discovered the source of the Kataafa guns and doubtless also suspected that the rebellion of the old warrior had been planned in order to create just the situation by which the Americans and English now found themselves confronted. If he only dared raise his country’s standard over the islands! The count reasoned that Kapua would be taken by the country whom the natives chose to govern them. Now he had the opportunity of showing them what good government really meant, and if he could succeed in winning the native confidence, his country would be the choice of the people. In the last war the natives, when maltreated and coerced by the Kapuan firm and the Herzovinian war-ships, appealed to England for annexation. England would have liked to grant the request, but her rival’s friendship at that time was needed more than were the Kapuan Islands; so no notice was paid by the British Cabinet to the pitiful cry from the far-away South Sea monarchy.

“Klinger,” the count said seriously, “you must take charge of the native laborers. Repair all damage possible to foreign property and guarantee to all just compensation. I shall grant full amnesty to all the supporters of Panu-Mafili. Be careful,” he added severely. “Don’t antagonize the foreigners. Don’t grab too much, or we may lose all.”