Part 8

“Looks as if cuttin’ things fine was rather in your line, eh? Say, though, you couldn’t take risks like that if you was doin’ a record round the world. You nearly missed this boat. I was watchin’ you, and if you’d been on my job you’d have perspired like a pig as you was drivin’ up to the wharf, with that woolly-faced pirate yellin’ and thrashin’ them horses to soapsuds, and the steamer whistle blowin’ and the whole durned push hollerin’ and monkeyin’ with the ropes of the gangway. You’d have had your heart in your boots, young feller, if you’d been on my lay-out and seen how near you came to botchin’ up the whole job.

“And talkin’ of botchin’ jobs, if this steamer doesn’t arrive in Nagasaki in time to catch the eight o’clock train on Thursday, I’m done. That train’ll just give me time to catch the _Empress_ at Yokohama. If I miss it there ain’t another boat until the _Gaelic_ for San Francisco, nine days later, and as that’s a slower route I’ll be fourteen days longer than if I catch the _Empress_. Gee whiz, though, it’ll break my wife’s heart if I don’t clip that twelve days off the record. She and I figured this whole thing out together months before I started.

“Now, this boat’s due to arrive at Nagasaki at eleven o’clock, and if she does no better’n that there’s no power on earth can help me; the game’s lost. Guess I’ll have to try and square the captain to get her into harbour by seven o’clock. If I can’t do that my wife’ll be heartbroken; she’s set her heart on this. You ought to see her; she’s the finest girl in New York--tall and slender, with dark eyes and hair, and she’s got a straight-front figure. But, say, I guess I’ll have to try and square the captain; I ain’t a nervous man, but I’m gettin’ nervous about this.”

With that he took me on one side, where there was no possibility of any eavesdropping, and, drawing his watch from his pocket, said, “You see that watch? How much do you suppose it’s worth?”

I looked at it closely. It appeared to be a handsome gold-cased, centre-seconds hunter, but, after the American fashion, the gold was not hallmarked. I confessed that I could form no idea of its value, but it appeared to me to be an expensive one.

“It’s a most difficult thing for anyone but an expert to tell the value of a watch, and you aren’t the only one to think this is somethin’ choice,” said my new acquaintance. “Now you’ve got a whole lot to learn, and I’m goin’ to put you up to a tip that’ll save you a pile of money. There’s not many experts on watches to be met with travellin’, and most people would think this worth fifty dollars at least. That’s where they’re wrong. I buy these watches by the dozen, and they only cost me one dollar and twenty cents each that way. They’re gold-washed, but they look like solid gold. I always have one on my chain; it’s no good havin’ it anywhere else. It must be on the chain you’re wearin’, and when the time comes for business you’ve got to tenderly draw it out of your pocket as if it was somethin’ you valued more than your life.

“Now, when I started out from Moscow I bought a second-class ticket, and I got into the best unoccupied first-class compartment I saw on the train. After a while the conductor comes along to examine the tickets. I handed him mine. He couldn’t speak a word of English, but he gave me to understand by pretty good actin’ that I’d have to clear out into the other end of the train.

“Not bein’ a bad hand at actin’ myself, I was right _in_ it. I gently pulled my watch from my pocket--it was one like this I now have on me--and showed him clearly that I intended to give it to him when we reached Irkutsk if he let me stay where I was. I repeated the word Irkutsk several times, each time touchin’ his pocket.

“Well, sirree, you ought to have been there to see his face when he caught sight of that watch! His eyes bulged out of his head so you could hang your hat on ’em, and to show what he felt like in his heart he took hold of my hand and shook it.

“After that he was like a mother to me all the way. Other compartments were filled up, but I had mine to myself always. Every time I passed him I gave him a wink and tapped my watch-pocket, and he switched on the nicest smile he kept in stock.

“Gee whiz, though, comin’ across Siberia the inside of that train was hotter’n the gates of Hades, and every day that feller would come to my room two or three times to see if he couldn’t do something to make me more comfortable.

“At Irkutsk I handed over the watch, and either his joy at receivin’ it or his sorrow at partin’ with me was so great that he tried to kiss me.

“Irkutsk is where they change trains, and I met an Englishman on the platform who lived in Port Arthur; he was goin’ back there by way of Dalny. He had been on a holiday to England, and was comin’ back on third-class trains, as he had spent about all his money, and had only just enough to skin through third-class. When I found he knew the country and could talk Russian, I invited him to come along with me; I told him I’d fix things up all right.

“Well, by and by the conductor comes along, same as the other had done. There we were, both in a first-class compartment, one with a second and the other with a third-class ticket. I didn’t have need to do any dumb show this time, for my friend, who spoke the lingo, did all the gassin’, and told him there was a nice present waitin’ for him when Dalny was reached if we could stay where we were, and when I tenderly took another watch out of my pocket and looked at it as though it was the only thing I’d ever loved on earth, he was as much overcome with joy as number one had been.

“Well, that watch fixed it just as I knew it would. We both stayed where we were, and when, at Dalny, I handed it over to the conductor, I calculated those two watches, worth two dollars and forty cents, had saved me about one hundred and twenty-five dollars.

“That Englishman was as chock-full of knowledge about Manchuria as an egg is full of meat, and I got enough information out of him to write up the whole trip across Russia and Siberia.

“Now you see the point I’m gettin’ at. There’s more of them watches in my bag, besides this one on my chain, and I’d like to see the captain of this ship richer by one of ’em, provided he does somethin’ to earn such a valuable present as he’ll consider it, until he gets to pryin’ into the works and askin’ experts’ opinions about it; but by that time I’ll be a long way off and it ’ain’t likely as I’ll ever see him again. There’s one disadvantage about this game that’s worth remarkin’--you can’t play it on the same man twice.

“As soon as I came aboard this ship and found out from the steward the time she gets to Nagasaki, I saw another watch would have to go, and that the captain o’ the ship would be the fortunate possessor. There’s a difficulty in the way, as he can’t speak English; and I can’t approach him through the steward, as that would give the captain away, but I’ve discovered there’s a Russian lady in the saloon, whom the captain’s already gettin’ on with like a house on fire.

“She speaks English with the prettiest accent you ever heard, and I was talkin’ to her for half an hour in the harbour before you showed up. I’ve already told her what I’m doin’, and got her quite worked up about it, an’ I’ve decided she’s the one to work the captain for me. There she is now, comin’ out on deck. Excuse me; there’s no time to be lost; I’ll get hold of her before the captain sees her.”

As they walked up and down the deck talking animatedly together, I could see my new acquaintance was making a deeper impression every minute. Once a few sentences reached me, and I chuckled inwardly.

“She’ll be broken-hearted if I fail to make it.... I’ll introduce you to her if you come to New York. She’ll like you and you’ll like her. She’s tall and dark, with big black eyes, and she’s got a straight-front figure and a----” I had to make a guess at the rest, for they had turned the corner by the wheel-house before the sentence was finished.

I never doubted what the result of his interview would be. Already I felt that the arrival of the _Mongolia_ at Nagasaki by seven o’clock on Thursday morning was the only thing at present to live for. I was completely dominated with enthusiasm for the success of this man’s undertaking, and felt certain he would as surely win the Russian lady’s sympathy and co-operation in his project as he had already secured mine.

After half an hour he came back to me.

“That little woman’s all right. She’s made o’ good enough clay to be Amur’can, an’ says she’ll do everythin’ she can to help me. She’s gone to call the captain now.”

Soon she appeared with the captain, talking in the most animated manner to him and punctuating every sentence with most expressive gestures.

Then they came together towards us and she said, “I haf ze captain told what you say off your great journey, and he tell me it iss impossible we come to Nagasaki so early unless he burn extra fifty tons of coal. Ze captain say if you pay ze coal he can do it, but if you not pay ze coal it iss impossible, but ze captain he like verry much to help you.”

To this my travelling companion made reply, “Madam, will you please tell the captain that the cost of the extra fifty tons of coal is but a trifle, and I’ll do a good deal more than pay for that. I am so anxious to catch that train that if the captain will bring the ship into the harbour by seven o’clock I’ll make him a present of my watch.”

The lady interpreted this. The captain shrugged his shoulders, then he looked up at the funnel, from which great rolling convolutions of thick black smoke were belching, and he let his eye run along the line of reek floating lazily in the cobalt astern for many miles--almost, it seemed, to where the yellow, sun-baked Manchurian hills were disappearing below the horizon--his brows knitted in thought.

Before he had finished his cogitations the would-be breaker of records put his hand into the left pocket of his waistcoat and drew out his watch. He carefully removed the chamois skin bag, soiled sufficiently to show it had long protected the treasure it covered, and holding the watch, which looked a perfect beauty as it caught the sun, in the palm of his hand, he addressed himself straight to the captain.

“Captain, I _must_ catch that train, and if you’ll help me to do it, sir, my watch shall be yours before I leave the ship. Ain’t it a beauty?” and he held it out for admiration.

All this he said in a manner that carried conviction with it. The lady interpreted again, but even that seemed unnecessary. The captain had capitulated, and from that moment the result lay in little doubt. The success or failure of this man’s trip had hung in the balance, and the issue was decided by a five-shilling watch glittering in the sun on the deck of a Russian steamer in the Yellow Sea.

Being in the secret, I could feel only admiration at the record-breaker’s sang-froid and the clever and dramatic manner in which he played his part.

The captain smiled and made a gesture of deprecation, but his eyes told us that he meant that watch should be his, and presently he went below to give directions to the chief engineer. From that moment the black smoke rolled out of the funnel thicker than before, hanging over the steamer’s wake clear to the horizon.

The record-breaker contemplated it and the unrippled seas with joy.

We went up into the fo’c’s’le, and as we leaned over the bow and saw the speed at which the sharp prow was cleaving the glassy water, sending thin feathers of spray high up along the steamer’s trim and tapering sides, his enthusiasm knew no bounds, and his praises of “God’s country” and his wife became almost dithyrambic.

All next day, as we steamed past the archipelago of rocks and barren islands that fringes the coast of Korea, the sea remained calm as a pond, and when at half-past six o’clock on Thursday morning we dropped anchor off the quarantine station at Nagasaki all doubt seemed to be at an end. There was some delay, however, as, though the doctors quickly came on board, made their examinations, and gave us a clean bill of health, it takes time to get under way again, enter the harbour, and take up a berth amongst the shipping this bustling port always contains. We anchored at seven-twenty. The record-breaker knew nothing about the place, and it is a long way to the station. I knew it well, however, and, as I felt as keen on his catching that train as he did himself, I chartered a _sampan_ and had all our luggage lowered into it, whilst he went up on to the bridge to express his thanks and present the watch to the captain. I saw him take it from his pocket and make a little speech as he handed it over, and I saw the captain bow his thanks. Then he shook hands, and in another moment he was beside me and we were being rapidly pulled to the landing-place, or _hatoba_.

There was not a moment to lose. It was past seven-thirty, and a good twenty minutes to the station. Hastily bidding the _sampan_ to wait with my luggage, I engaged rickshaws and we were off at full speed. We reached the station at seven-fifty-five. Having Japanese money on me I paid the rickshaws, whilst he bought his ticket with money he had got exchanged by the steamer’s purser.

He hastily shook hands, thanked me, and got into the train just one moment before it left.

The watch had _really_ done it, but by actually less than a minute, and if I had not been there to help him he would have failed after all. He promised to write me from Yokohama, but this he never did. The last I saw of him he was waving his hat out of the window to me till the train was out of sight.

The last I heard of him was a few weeks later, when I read in an American Press telegram that he had won his spurs and had beaten the previous best round the world by exactly twelve days.

BY ANNIE KER.

Some incidents of a lady’s life in the wilds of New Guinea. Miss Ker went out to Papua--as the country is now called--attached to a mission, and describes the many strange, amusing, and exciting experiences she encountered during her seven years’ sojourn among the natives, who, not so very long ago, were always fighting and much addicted to cannibalism--a practice which still prevails among the wild tribes of the unexplored interior.

III.

Towards the end of my stay in Papua my special work was translation, chiefly of the Scriptures, and there was a big pile of manuscript awaiting revision. This was generally done by one of the mission clergy and myself, assisted by intelligent natives who possessed a quick ear for mistakes. The little boy seen in the first photograph was known as “the Pundit,” because, although only fourteen years old, he gave us great assistance in the difficult work of translation. He had a wonderful memory, and was very discriminating in his choice of words. He would sometimes volunteer opinions as to the style of the sacred writers, and considered the Prophet Jeremiah, on the whole, “easier” than Isaiah--in which I agree with him, so far as concerns rendering the books into a native dialect. Perhaps it was for this reason that our youthful “Pundit,” when he was baptised and formally discarded his heathen name of Bonagadona, chose that of “Jeremiah,” by which imposing cognomen he is now known.

Before long the revision work came to a standstill, however, for my fellow-reviser had gone far north to a pioneer station called Ambasi. It was finally decided that, accompanied by our mission nurse, I should take the MSS. to Ambasi and finish the revision there. So we set out on our long journey up the coast in the little fourteen-foot schooner. I am not a good sailor, and I found the journey very uncomfortable; I was only able to admire Nature when we anchored.

We spent a very interesting time in Collingwood Bay, where only two white women had ever been seen, and that within the year. The women here wore strips of tappa cloth from waist to knee, instead of the grass skirts of the more eastern tribes, and the houses were of a finer and larger type.

The villagers, after they had got over their surprise at seeing us, gave us almost too hearty a welcome. We were implored to pull down our hair, and great was the astonishment expressed at the sight when we did so. They also failed entirely to understand our hairpins, hats, and, above all, our long noses and small waists! The Papuans’ methods of hairdressing, however, would certainly cause almost equal astonishment in civilization. Look, for instance, at the following photograph, which depicts the coiffure of a man belonging to the dreaded Doriri tribe, a people living inland from Uiaku, whose warlike instincts have not yet been subdued. It will be noticed that the hair is allowed to grow long, divided into plaits, and elaborately braided until it looks like a collection of rope-ends.

At Wanigera, a few miles away, where a mission station had been in existence longer than at Uiaku, we met with a quieter reception, though one old woman, after a long look at me, asked a child if I were _really_ a woman. I wondered what strange creature she imagined I was, for surely, in a white muslin frock, she could hardly have taken me for a man!

During our stay at Wanigera a great hunt took place, and some of the warriors called on us before setting out. Their ornaments were very striking, and the colours almost dazzling. Altogether they looked a very fine set of men, and would, no doubt, prove enemies much to be dreaded in the day of battle. On this occasion, however, they only waged war with the brute creation, and they told us at the close of the day that the bag was a very good one.

The interior of the great church on Sunday was a fine sight, being filled with from two to three hundred natives, all decked out in feathers, shell ornaments, gay tappa cloth, and vivid flowers. Not less striking was the almost military precision with which each row of worshippers left the building in turn at the close of the service. If these natives went in for such amenities of civilization as church parades, the spectacle would be a striking one indeed.

In a neighbouring village to Wanigera there is a remarkable tree house, prepared by the tribesmen as a place of refuge from marauding enemies. From the heights of this arboreal retreat they were able to hurl down stones upon the attacking party.

A fine specimen of Papuan womanhood may be seen in the middle figure of the next photograph reproduced. These women are natives of Nonof, a village not far from Wanigera. They were profusely ornamented in order that they might take part in a dance held after the death of a chief. It is almost an unheard-of occurrence for women to don such decorations, which are regarded as the exclusive property of the men, and it looks as though the ladies were beginning to agitate for equal privileges in the way of finery with their lords and masters. A native, on being shown my collection of curios, which included some ornaments, remarked that I was _me oroto_, or “like a man,” because of my many possessions.

The natives of Papua are very much addicted to betel-chewing. Areca palms are plentiful up the coast, but pepper-leaf and lime are required as well. The lime--which in some districts is prepared from coal--is obtained in Collingwood Bay by burning shells. The above photograph well illustrates the primitive process in use for slaking the lime after the burning of the shells. The lime is then stored, and ladled out from a calabash when required.

Our stay at Wanigera having come to an end, we embarked once more on the little schooner and set off again. We anchored each night, for the native captain was not very certain of his bearings, and reefs were plentiful. On the third day after leaving Wanigera, however, he was either influenced by the crew or had a sudden impulse of recklessness, for after the sun had set he tried, in the uncertain light, to bring the boat into harbour on a particularly reef-bound part of the coast. There was a strong wind blowing, and the waves were slapping angrily against the sides of the vessel, when suddenly, without a moment’s warning, there was a grating shock, and we realized that we had struck a reef. It was almost dark by now, and the lights of the settlement could be seen two or three miles away.

The captain let go the anchor at once, but the boat began to roll so violently that we felt doubtful as to whether the cable would stand the strain. Meanwhile the boys scrambled into the dinghy and rowed around to investigate our position. Strange though it may seem, no harm appeared to have been done to the boat, but we were so surrounded by reefs that we did not dare to move from where we were anchored. So there we pitched and rolled about all night, though the strength of the wind abated later on. What with one thing and another, I felt like a very frightened tennis-ball, and I was extremely thankful when, at sunrise, we were able to make for the shore, where we spent the day and night at the house of a friendly magistrate.

We were now only thirty or forty miles from our destination, and the next afternoon arrived at Ambasi. No white women had ever been there before, and for many days we were visited by parties of natives, all eager to see the strange white ladies. Women carrying their babies astride on their shoulders, old men leading little boys, and married couples, with or without their families, would pay us long visits, wanting to know what a sewing-machine was, to look at our bedrooms, and, above all, to taste our food. The nurse had her hands full soon after she arrived, for the people had great faith in her remedies, and patients presented themselves in shoals for treatment. Her pet patients appeared to be old men, who became frightfully jealous of one another if she appeared to devote more attention to one than another. They would glare fiercely at the patient who was being rubbed or otherwise treated, and were only partly mollified when their own turn came.

During our stay at Ambasi we dispensed with such luxuries as mirrors and sheets, and rolled ourselves in blankets, to sleep contentedly in hammocks slung on the veranda. We could not, however, do without mosquito nets, for without them rest would have been quite impossible. At night we were surrounded by the pale sparks of fireflies, and far below, on the beach, the natives’ flaring torches would flicker for hours as they fished, standing patiently in the sea. In the early morning the sweet notes of a bird would wake us from some lofty tree at the edge of the thick forest close by, behind which rose in majesty the great Owen Stanley range, standing out distinctly in the clear morning air. The highest peak, Mount Albert Edward, over thirteen thousand feet high, had not long before been ascended for the first time by a magistrate and one of the mission staff.