Adventure Magazine Cover — page 47: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Cook it’s oversafe to lay in here during the night. ‘They'll be aboard us if they work up their courage, and they think they see a chance to catch us off guard. And there’sa raft of ’em up in the hills, too.” “Serve out a couple of shotguns to the crew,” said Gedge. “If we keep a good watch and bang away at any proa that comes too close and gets too thick, they’ll be willing enough to keep their distance.” Filson went forward, and had a talk with the bosun. ‘Sometimes I think the skipper’s plumb crazy,” said the mate. “Td call it just double-bottomed mean- ness, sir,’ said the bosun, who had been a mate with Filson when the latter was master of a bark. ‘‘He’s in here till he plans out some devil- try on the cook,” went on Filson. “He knows Pete will be discharged when we git into port, and the skipper hasn’t made the black boy squeal. I’m sorry for Pete— hard to tell what’ll happen before we git clear of this bay.” The sun went down, and the moon popped up over the hills. Fires flickered in the brush up on the hills, revealing the fact that there was a good-sized native village above the beach. The gongs kept going lazily, and were answered from far up the valleys which cut into the mountains to- ward the port of Tangeru. There was a large gathering of natives on the beach, and a couple of proas idled on the moonlit water some three hundred vards off the Seeker. The men in the proas kept calling to the crowd on shore, as if reporting conditions aboard the schooner; and the natives ashore broke out into choruses of gabbling, as if they were argu- ing among themselves and discussing the possibility of taking the schooner. After mess that evening Black Pete had occasion to step out on deck and dump over- side a panful of refuse from the galley. The stuff stuck in the pan, and Pete had to rap the pan smartly to clear it of the sticky contents. But that rapping of the pan seemed to hush the gongs ashore, though the gabble greatly increased. After several minutes a single gong ashore began to boom out, dully and intermittently, and in a short time also lapsed into silence. Black Pete came out again with a pan of waste, and dumped it into the sea. Then, 39 with a big iron spoon, he tapped the pan in imitation of the gong that had been sound- ing ashore, as if to mock the natives. Some of the crew forward laughed at Pete. “Give ’em a good razzle-dazzle, Petey,” said one of the sailors from the gloom of the forecastle head. ‘“‘They’re not the only Swiss bell-ringers in the world. That dish- pan of yours makes ’em nervous.” So for several minutes Pete beat a tattoo on his pan. The gong ashore boomed when he was silent, whereupon Pete gave it back to them—as good as they sent, and a little better. “What the is thisP” Gedge, coming out on deck. “Just making fun, sir. A httle joke with those black boys on the beach.” Gedge burst out in laughter, but it was not the laughter of mirth; instead, the cap- tain revealed his malevolent glee at having caught Pete at something which could be turned against the cook. “That’s awful funny,” he said. “It’s a great joke to stir those black boys up like you have! And look at the two proas paddling in on us to see what this is all about!” The pair of proas which had been hanging off the Seeker were now drawing in cau- tiously toward the schooner, the paddlers talking among themselves in low tones, but evidently excited. “Sheer off!’ bawled Gedge to the natives, and as they stopped at sound of his voice, he fired twice at them with a revolver. They headed away for the beach as swiftly as they could make their boats travel. “You’ve put the schooner and all of us in danger,” resumed Gedge to the cook. “I’m going to flog you for it. Mr. Filson, fetch a couple of deck-lights! Bosun, trice the cook up by the thumbs to the main- rigging and I’ dress him down proper. I’ve had enough of his nigger insolence, and T’ll make him pay for it now, or my name’s not Gedge.”’ With that the skipper went to his cabin. Filson hesitated. He was inclined to tell the captain that he’d have no hand in the business of mistreating the cook, but realized that Gedge was determined upon punishing Pete. So he drew near the cook, and whispered to him as the bosun came up to carry out the skipper’s orders. “The cap’en has made an excuse of your demanded C@ DOOK S C@ iin