Detective and mystery stories; Holmes, Sherlock (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Private investigators -- England -- Fiction
“Tonga—for that was his name—was a fine boatman, and owned a big, roomy
canoe of his own. When I found that he was devoted to me and would do
anything to serve me, I saw my chance of escape. I talked it over with
him. He was to bring his boat round on a certain night to an old wharf
which was never guarded, and there he was to pick me up. I gave him
directions to have several gourds of water and a lot of yams,
cocoa-nuts, and sweet potatoes.
“He was stanch and true, was little Tonga. No man ever had a more
faithful mate. At the night named he had his boat at the wharf. As it
chanced, however, there was one of the convict-guard down there,—a vile
Pathan who had never missed a chance of insulting and injuring me. I
had always vowed vengeance, and now I had my chance. It was as if fate
had placed him in my way that I might pay my debt before I left the
island. He stood on the bank with his back to me, and his carbine on
his shoulder. I looked about for a stone to beat out his brains with,
but none could I see. Then a queer thought came into my head and showed
me where I could lay my hand on a weapon. I sat down in the darkness
and unstrapped my wooden leg. With three long hops I was on him. He put
his carbine to his shoulder, but I struck him full, and knocked the
whole front of his skull in. You can see the split in the wood now
where I hit him. We both went down together, for I could not keep my
balance, but when I got up I found him still lying quiet enough. I made
for the boat, and in an hour we were well out at sea. Tonga had brought
all his earthly possessions with him, his arms and his gods. Among
other things, he had a long bamboo spear, and some Andaman cocoa-nut
matting, with which I made a sort of sail. For ten days we were beating
about, trusting to luck, and on the eleventh we were picked up by a
trader which was going from Singapore to Jiddah with a cargo of Malay
pilgrims. They were a rum crowd, and Tonga and I soon managed to settle
down among them. They had one very good quality: they let you alone and
asked no questions.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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