书城外语杰克·伦敦经典短篇小说
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第46章 The Heathen(5)

It began in Papeete, immediately after his announcementthat he was going with me over all the sea, and the islandsin the midst thereof. There was a club in those days inPapeete, where the pearlers, traders, captains, and riffraffof South Sea adventurers forgathered. The play ran high,and the drink ran high; and I am very much afraid that Ikept later hours than were becoming or proper. No matterwhat the hour was when I left the club, there was Otoowaiting to see me safely home.

At first I smiled; next I chided him. Then I told himflatly that I stood in need of no wet-nursing. After thatI did not see him when I came out of the club. Quite byaccident, a week or so later, I discovered that he still sawme home, lurking across the street among the shadows ofthe mango trees. What could I do? I know what I did do.

Insensibly I began to keep better hours. On wet andstormy nights, in the thick of the folly and the fun, thethought would persist in coming to me of Otoo keepinghis dreary vigil under the dripping mangoes. Truly, hemade a better man of me. Yet he was not strait-laced.

And he knew nothing of common Christian morality.

All the people on Bora Bora were Christians; but hewas a heathen, the only unbeliever on the island, a grossmaterialist, who believed that when he died he was dead.

He believed merely in fair play and square dealing. Pettymeanness, in his code, was almost as serious as wantonhomicide; and I do believe that he respected a murderermore than a man given to small practices.

Concerning me, personally, he objected to my doinganything that was hurtful to me. Gambling was all right.

He was an ardent gambler himself. But late hours, heexplained, were bad for one’s health. He had seen menwho did not take care of themselves die of fever. He wasno teetotaler, and welcomed a stiff nip any time when itwas wet work in the boats. On the other hand, he believedin liquor in moderation. He had seen many men killed ordisgraced by square-face or Scotch.

Otoo had my welfare always at heart. He thoughtahead for me, weighed my plans, and took a greaterinterest in them than I did myself. At first, when I wasunaware of this interest of his in my affairs, he had todivine my intentions, as, for instance, at Papeete, whenI contemplated going partners with a knavish fellowcountrymanon a guano venture. I did not know he was

a knave. Nor did any white man in Papeete. Neither didOtoo know, but he saw how thick we were getting, andfound out for me, and without my asking him. Nativesailors from the ends of the seas knock about on the beachin Tahiti; and Otoo, suspicious merely, went among themtill he had gathered sufficient data to justify his suspicions.

Oh, it was a nice history, that of Randolph Waters. Icouldn’t believe it when Otoo first narrated it; but when Isheeted it home to Waters he gave in without a murmur,and got away on the first steamer to Aukland.

At first, I am free to confess, I couldn’t help resentingOtoo’s poking his nose into my business. But I knew thathe was wholly unselfish; and soon I had to acknowledgehis wisdom and discretion. He had his eyes open alwaysto my main chance, and he was both keen-sighted andfar-sighted. In time he became my counselor, until heknew more of my business than I did myself. He reallyhad my interest at heart more than I did. ’mine was themagnificent carelessness of youth, for I preferred romanceto dollars, and adventure to a comfortable billet with allnight in. So it was well that I had some one to look out forme. I know that if it had not been for Otoo, I should notbe here today.

Of numerous instances, let me give one. I had had someexperience in blackbirding before I went pearling in thePaumotus. Otoo and I were on the beach in Samoa—wereally were on the beach and hard aground—when mychance came to go as recruiter on a blackbird brig. Otoosigned on before the mast; and for the next half-dozenyears, in as many ships, we knocked about the wildestportions of Melanesia. Otoo saw to it that he alwayspulled stroke-oar in my boat. Our custom in recruitinglabor was to land the recruiter on the beach. The coveringboat always lay on its oars several hundred feet off shore,while the recruiter’s boat, also lying on its oars, kept afloaton the edge of the beach. When I landed with my tradegoods, leaving my steering sweep apeak, Otoo left hisstroke position and came into the stern sheets, where aWinchester lay ready to hand under a flap of canvas. Theboat’s crew was also armed, the Sniders concealed undercanvas flaps that ran the length of the gunwales.

While I was busy arguing and persuading the woollyheadedcannibals to come and labor on the Queenslandplantations Otoo kept watch. And often and often hislow voice warned me of suspicious actions and impendingtreachery. Sometimes it was the quick shot from hisrifle, knocking a nigger over, that was the first warningI received. And in my rush to the boat his hand wasalways there to jerk me flying aboard. Once, I remember,on Santa Anna, the boat grounded just as the troublebegan. The covering boat was dashing to our assistance,but the several score of savages would have wiped us outbefore it arrived. Otoo took a flying leap ashore, dug bothhands into the trade goods, and scattered tobacco, beads,tomahawks, knives, and calicoes in all directions.

This was too much for the woolly-heads. While theyscrambled for the treasures, the boat was shoved clear,and we were aboard and forty feet away. And I got thirtyrecruits off that very beach in the next four hours.