Books Should Be Free Loyal Books Free Public Domain Audiobooks & eBook Downloads |
|
"Martin Of Nitendi"; and The River Of Dreams 1901 By: Louis Becke (1855-1913) |
---|
![]()
By Louis Becke T. Fisher Unwin, 1901
"MARTIN OF NITENDI" Half way up the side of the mountain which overlooked the waters of
the little land locked harbour there was a space clear of timber. Huge,
jagged rocks, whose surfaces were covered with creepers and grey moss,
protruded from the soil, and on the highest of these a man was lying at
full length, looking at the gunboat anchored half a mile away. He was
clothed in a girdle of ti leaves only; his feet were bare, cut, and
bleeding; round his waist was strapped a leather belt with an empty
cartridge pouch; his brawny right hand grasped a Snider rifle; his
head covering was a roughly made cap of coconut nut leaf, with a
projecting peak, designed to shield his blood shot, savage eyes from
the sun. Yet he had been a White Man. For nearly an hour he had been
watching, ever since the dawn had broken. Far below him, thin, wavering
curls of pale blue smoke were arising from the site of the native
village, fired by the bluejackets on the previous evening. The ruins of
his own house he could discern by the low stone wall surrounding it;
as for the native huts which, the day before, had clustered so thickly
around his own dwelling, there was now no trace save heaps of grey
ashes. A boat put off from the ship, and as the yellow bladed oars flashed in
the sunlight the man drew his rifle close up to his side and his eyes
gleamed with a deadly hatred. "Officers' shootin' party," he muttered, as he watched the boat ground
on the beach and three men, carrying guns, step out and walk up the
beach "officer's shootin' party. Christ A'mighty! I'd like to pot every
one o' the swine. An' I could do it, too, I could do it. But wot's the
use o' bein' a blarsted fool for nothin'?" The boat's crew got out and walked about the smouldering remains of the
village, seeking for curios which had escaped the fire, pausing awhile
to look at a large mound of sand, under which lay seven of the natives
killed by the landing party on the preceding day. Then, satisfied that
there was nothing to be had, the coxswain grumblingly ordered the men
back to the boat, which pushed off and returned to the ship. The wild, naked creature lying upon the boulder saw the boat pull off
with a sigh of satisfaction. There was, under the ashes of his house,
and buried still further under the soil, a 50 lb. beef barrel filled
with Chilian and Mexican dollars. And he had feared that the bluejackets
might rake about the ashes and find it. He rose and stepped down the jagged boulder to where, at the base,
the thick carpet of dead leaves, fallen from the giant trees which
encompassed it, silenced even the tread of his naked feet. Seated
against the bole of a many buttressed vi tree was a native woman,
whose right arm, shattered by a bullet and bound up in the spathe of a
coconut palm, was suspended from her neck by a strip of soft bark. She
looked at him inquiringly. "A boat has come ashore," he said in the native tongue, "but none of the
white men are seeking for my money." "Thy money!" The woman's eyes blazed with a deadly fury. "What is thy
money to me? Is thy money more to us than the blood of our child? O,
thou coward heart!" Grasping his Snider by the tip of the barrel the man looked at his wife
with sullen, dulled ferocity. "I am no coward, Nuta. Thou dost not understand. I wish to save the
money, but I wish for revenge as well. Yet what can I do? I am but one
man, and have but one cartridge left." This naked, sun tanned being was one of the most desperate and
blood stained beachcombers that had ever cursed the fair isles of the
South Pacific, and in those days there were many, notably on Pleasant
Island and in the Gilbert Group. Put ashore at Nitendi from a Hobart
Town whaler for mutinous conduct, he had disassociated himself for ever
from civilisation. Perhaps the convict strain in his blood had something
to do with his vicious nature, for both his father and mother had "left
their country for their country's good," and his early training had been
given him under the shadow of the gallows and within the swishing sound
of the "cat" as it lacerated the backs of the wretched beings doomed to
suffer under the awful convict system... Continue reading book >>
|
Genres for this book |
---|
Adventure |
Fiction |
Literature |
Sea stories |
Short stories |
eBook links |
---|
Wikipedia – Louis Becke |
Wikipedia – "Martin Of Nitendi"; and The River Of Dreams 1901 |
eBook Downloads | |
---|---|
ePUB eBook • iBooks for iPhone and iPad • Nook • Sony Reader |
Kindle eBook • Mobi file format for Kindle |
Read eBook • Load eBook in browser |
Text File eBook • Computers • Windows • Mac |
Review this book |
---|