Then the _Arla_ dropped anchor at Reminge Plantation,
on Guadalcanar, and Bertie landed on the beach with a sigh of relief
and shook hands with the manager. Mr. Harriwell was ready for him.
"Now you mustn't be alarmed if some of our fellows seem downcast," Mr.
Harriwell said, having drawn him aside in confidence. "There's been
talk of an outbreak, and two or three suspicious signs I'm willing to
admit, but personally I think it's all poppycock."
"How--how many blacks have you on the plantation?" Bertie asked, with a
sinking heart.
"We're working four hundred just now," replied Mr. Harriwell,
cheerfully; "but the three of us, with you, of course, and the skipper
and mate of the _Arla_, can handle them all right."
Bertie turned to meet one McTavish, the storekeeper, who scarcely
acknowledged the introduction, such was his eagerness to present his
resignation.
"It being that I'm a married man, Mr. Harriwell, I can't very well
afford to remain on longer. Trouble is working up, as plain as the
nose on your face. The niggers are going to break out, and there'll be
another Hohono horror here."
"What's a Hohono horror?" Bertie asked, after the storekeeper had been
persuaded to remain until the end of the month.
Pages:
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455