Cape Cod (Mass.) -- Fiction; Short stories, American
“'They've settled it,' says George, doleful. 'Well, there's enough of
Teunis to last 'em for one meal, if they ain't 'ogs. You're a tough old
bird, cooky; maybe you'll give 'em dyspepsy, so they won't care for the
rest of us. That's a ray of 'ope, ain't it?'
“But the cook didn't seem to get much hope out of it. He was busy
telling the skipper what he thought of him when the natives come up.
They was wildly excited, and two or three of 'em was waving square
pieces of cardboard in their hands.
“And here's where the Emily's gang had a streak of luck. The Kanaka
sailor couldn't talk much English, but it seems that his granddad, or
some of his ancestors, must have belonged to the same breed of cats as
these islanders, for he could manage to understand a little of their
lingo.
“'Picture!' says he, crazy-like with joy. 'Picture, cappy; picture!'
“When Rosy was new on board the schooner, afore George and the rest had
played with him till he was an old story, one of their games was to have
him take their photographs. He'd taken the cap'n's picture, and Julius's
and Van Doozen's. The pictures was a Rogues' Gallery that would have got
'em hung on suspicion anywhere in civilization, but these darkies
wa'n't particular. Anyhow they must have been good likenesses, for the
committee see the resemblance right off.
“'They t'ink witchcraft,' says the Kanaka. 'Want to know how make.'
“'Lord!' says George. 'You tell 'em we're witches from Witch Center.
Tell 'em we make them kind of things with our eyes shut, and if they eat
us we'll send our tintypes to 'aunt 'em into their graves. Tell 'em that
quick.'
“Well, I guess the Kanaka obeyed orders, for the islanders was all shook
up. They jabbered and hurrahed like a parrot-house for ten minutes or
so. Then they untied the feet of their Sunday dinners, got 'em into
line, and marched 'em off across country, prodding 'em with their
spears, either to see which was the tenderest or to make 'em step
livelier, I don't know which.
“Julius said that was the most nervous walk ever he took. Said afore
'twas done he was so leaky with spear holes that he cast a shadder like
a skimmer. Just afore sunset they come to the other side of the island,
where there was a good sized native village, with houses made of grass
and cane, and a big temple-like in the middle, decorated fancy and
cheerful with skulls and spareribs. Jule said there was places where
the decorations needed repairs, and he figgered he was just in time to
finish 'em. But he didn't take no pride in it; none of his folks cared
for art.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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