Telling Binu Charley to remove the ear-rings, and
directing the Poonga-Poonga men to carry out the
old fire-tender, Sheldon cleared the devil-devil
house and set fire to it. Soon every house was
blazing merrily, while the ancient fire-tender sat
upright in the sunshine blinking at the destruction
of his village. From the heights above, where
were evidently other villages, came the booming of
drums and a wild blowing of war-conchs; but Sheldon
had dared all he cared to with his small following.
Besides, his mission was accomplished. Every
member of Tudor’s expedition was accounted for;
and it was a long, dark way out of the head-hunters’
country. Releasing their two prisoners, who leaped
away like startled deer, they plunged down the steep
path into the steaming jungle.
Joan, still shocked by what she had seen, walked on
in front of Sheldon, subdued and silent. At
the end of half an hour she turned to him with a wan
smile and said,—
“I don’t think I care to visit the head-hunters
any more. It’s adventure, I know; but
there is such a thing as having too much of a good
thing. Riding around the plantation will henceforth
be good enough for me, or perhaps salving another
Martha; but the bushmen of Guadalcanar need
never worry for fear that I shall visit them again.
I shall have nightmares for months to come, I know
I shall. Ugh!—the horrid beasts!”
That night found them back in camp with Tudor, who,
while improved, would still have to be carried down
on a stretcher. The swelling of the Poonga-Poonga
man’s shoulder was going down slowly, but Arahu
still limped on his thorn-poisoned foot.
Two days later they rejoined the boats at Carli; and
at high noon of the third day, travelling with the
current and shooting the rapids, the expedition arrived
at Berande. Joan, with a sigh, unbuckled her
revolver-belt and hung it on the nail in the living-room,
while Sheldon, who had been lurking about for the
sheer joy of seeing her perform that particular home-coming
act, sighed, too, with satisfaction. But the
home-coming was not all joy to him, for Joan set
about nursing Tudor, and spent much time on the veranda
where he lay in the hammock under the mosquito-netting.
The ten days of Tudor’s convalescence that followed
were peaceful days on Berande. The work of the
plantation went on like clock-work. With the
crushing of the premature outbreak of Gogoomy and his
following, all insubordination seemed to have vanished.
Twenty more of the old-time boys, their term of service
up, were carried away by the Martha, and the
fresh stock of labour, treated fairly, was proving
of excellent quality. As Sheldon rode about
the plantation, acknowledging to himself the comfort
and convenience of a horse and wondering why he had
not thought of getting one himself, he pondered the
various improvements for which Joan was responsible—the
splendid Poonga-Poonga recruits; the fruits and vegetables;
the Martha herself, snatched from the sea for
a song and earning money hand over fist despite old
Kinross’s slow and safe method of running her;
and Berande, once more financially secure, approaching
each day nearer the dividend-paying time, and growing
each day as the black toilers cleared the bush, cut
the cane-grass, and planted more cocoanut palms.
