Six months ago, he
and the rest of the boat's crew drowned the then captain of the _Arla_.
They did it on deck, sir, right aft there by the mizzen-traveller."
"The deck was in a shocking state," said the mate.
"Do I understanad--?" Bertie began.
"Yes, just that," said Captain Hansen. "It was accidental drowning."
"But on deck--?"
"Just so. I don't mind telling you, in confidence, of course, that
they used an axe."
"This present crew of yours?"
Captain Hansen nodded.
"The other skipper always was too careless," explained the mate. "He
but just turned his back, when they let him have it."
"We haven't any show down here," was the skipper's complaint. "The
government protects a nigger against a white every time. You can't
shoot first. You've got to give the nigger first shot, or else the
government calls it murder and you go to Fiji. That's why there's so
many drowning accidents."
Dinner was called, and Bertie and the skipper went below, leaving the
mate to watch on deck.
"Keep an eye out for that black devil, Auiki," was the skipper's
parting caution. "I haven't liked his looks for several days."
"Right O," said the mate.
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