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that in the year you have drawn just eighty…seven dollars and twenty cents。〃
〃Is there any owing me？〃 he asked anxiously。
〃I tell you thousands and thousands；〃 I answered。
His face brightened； as with an immense relief。
〃It is well；〃 he said。 〃See that the head clerk keeps good account of it。 When
I want it； I shall want it； and there must not be a cent missing。
〃If there is；：〃 he added fiercely； after a pause； 〃it must come out of the
clerk's wages。〃
And all the time； as I afterwards learned； his will； drawn up by Carruthers；
and making me sole beneficiary； lay in the American consul's safe。
But the end came； as the end must come to all human associations。
It occurred in the Solomons； where our wildest work had been done in the wild
young days； and where we were once more principally on a holiday；
incidentally to look after our holdings on Florida Island and to look over the
pearling possibilities of the Mboli Pass。 We were lying at Savo； having run in
to trade for curios。
Now； Savo is alive with sharks。 The custom of the woolly…heads of burying
their dead in the sea did not tend to discourage the sharks from making the
adjacent waters a hangout。 It was my luck to be coming aboard in a tiny；
overloaded； native canoe； when the thing capsized。 There were four
woolly…heads and myself in it； or rather； hanging to it。 The schooner was a
hundred yards away。
I was just hailing for a boat when one of the woolly…heads began to scream。
Holding on to the end of the canoe； both he and that portion of the canoe were
dragged under several times。 Then he loosed his clutch and disappeared。 A
shark had got him。
The three remaining niggers tried to climb out of the water upon the bottom of
the canoe。 I yelled and cursed and struck at the nearest with my fist； but it
was no use。 They were in a blind funk。 The canoe could barely have supported
one of them。 Under the three it upended and rolled sidewise； throwing them
back into the water。
I abandoned the canoe and started to swim toward the schooner； expecting to be
picked up by the boat before I got there。 One of the niggers elected to come
with me； and we swam along silently； side by side； now and again putting our
faces into the water and peering about for sharks。 The screams of the man who
stayed by the canoe informed us that he was taken。 I was peering into the
water when I saw a big shark pass directly beneath me。 He was fully sixteen
feet in length。 I saw the whole thing。 He got the woolly…head by the middle；
and away he went； the poor devil； head； shoulders； and arms out of the water
all the time； screeching in a heart…rending way。 He was carried along in this
fashion for several hundred feet； when he was dragged beneath the surface。
I swam doggedly on； hoping that that was the last unattached shark。 But there
was another。 Whether it was one that had attacked the natives earlier； or
whether it was one that had made a good meal elsewhere； I do not know。 At any
rate； he was not in such haste as the others。 I could not swim so rapidly now；
for a large part of my effort was devoted to keeping track of him。 I was
watching him when he made his first attack。 By good luck I got both hands on
his nose； and； though his momentum nearly shoved me under； I managed to keep
him off。 He veered clear； and began circling about again。 A second time I
escaped him by the same manoeuvre。 The third rush was a miss on both sides。 He
sheered at the moment my hands should have landed on his nose； but his
sandpaper hide （I had on a sleeveless undershirt） scraped the skin off one arm
from elbow to shoulder。
By this time I was played out； and gave up hope。 The schooner was still two
hundred feet away。 My face was in the water； and I was watching him manoeuvre
for another attempt； when I saw a brown body pass between us。 It was Otoo。
〃Swim for the schooner； master！〃 he said。 And he spoke gayly； as though the
affair was a mere lark。 〃I know sharks。 The shark is my brother。〃
I obeyed； swimming slowly on； while Otoo swam about me； keeping always between
me and the shark； foiling his rushes and encouraging me。
〃The davit tackle carried away； and they are rigging the falls；〃 he explained；
a minute or so later； and then went under to head off another attack。
By the time the schooner was thirty feet away I was about done for。 I could
scarcely move。 They were heaving lines at us from on board； but they
continually fell short。 The shark； finding that it was receiving no hurt； had
become bolder。 Several times it nearly got me； but each time Otoo was there
just the moment before it was too late。 Of course； Otoo could have saved
himself any time。 But he stuck by me。
〃Good…by； Charley！ I'm finished！〃 I just managed to gasp。
I knew that the end had come； and that the next moment I should throw up my
hands and go down。
But Otoo laughed in my face； saying：
〃I will show you a new trick。 I will make that shark feel sick！〃
He dropped in behind me； where the shark was preparing to come at me。
〃A little more to the left！〃 he next called out。 〃There is a line there on the
water。 To the left； masterto the left！〃
I changed my course and struck out blindly。 I was by that time barely
conscious。 As my hand closed on the line I heard an exclamation from on board。
I turned and looked。 There was no sign of Otoo。 The next instant he broke
surface。 Both hands were off at the wrist； the stumps spouting blood。
〃Otoo！〃 he called softly。 And I could see in his gaze the love that thrilled
in his voice。
Then； and then only； at the very last of all our years； he called me by that
name。
〃Good…by； Otoo！〃 he called。
Then he was dragged under； and I was hauled aboard； where I fainted in the
captain's arms。
And so passed Otoo； who saved me and made me a man； and who saved me in the
end。 We met in the maw of a hurricane； and parted in the maw of a shark； with
seventeen intervening years of comradeship； the like of which I dare to assert
has never befallen two men； the one brown and the other white。 If Jehovah be
from His high place watching every sparrow fall； not least in His kingdom
shall be Otoo； the one heathen of Bora Bora。
THE TERRIBLE SOLOMONS
There is no gainsaying that the Solomons are a hard…bitten bunch of islands。
On the other hand； there are worse places in the world。 But to the new chum
who has no constitutional understanding of men and life in the rough； the
Solomons may indeed prove terrible。
It is true that fever and dysentery are perpetually on the walk…about； that
loathsome skin diseases abound； that the air is saturated with a poison that
bites into every pore； cut； or abrasion and plants malignant ulcers； and that
many strong men who escape dying there return as wrecks to their own
countries。 It is also true that the natives of the Solomons are a wild lot；
with a hearty appetite for human flesh and a fad for collecting human heads。
Their highest instinct of sportsmanship is to catch a man with his back turned
and to smite him a cunning blow with a tomahawk that severs the spinal column
at the base of the brain。 It is equally true that on some islands； such as
Malaita； the profit and loss account of social intercourse is calculated in
homicides。 Heads are a medium of exchange； and white heads are extremely
valuable。 Very often a dozen villages make a jack…pot； which they fatten moon
by moon； against the time when some brave warrior presents a white man's head；
fresh and gory； and claims the pot。
All the foregoing is quite true； and yet there are white men who have lived in
the Solomons a score of years and who feel homesick when they go away from
them。 A man needs only to be careful and luckyto live a long time in the
Solomons； but he must also be of the right sort。 He must have the hallmark of
the inevitable white man stamped upon his soul。 He must be inevitable。