The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition, Vol. 17Stevenson, Robert Louis
History
The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition, Vol. 17
Stevenson, Robert Louis
Islands of the Pacific -- Fiction; Samoan Islands -- History; Short stories
It isn't a fine thing to say for yourself, but I ran away; and if the
same kind of a shock was given me, I should run away again to-morrow. To
see that palavering Kanaka struck all of a heap at the mere sight of me
gave me a feeling as if the bottom had dropped out of the world. I went
right home, and stayed there, and said nothing. You might think I would
tell Uma, but that was against my system. You might have thought I would
have gone over and consulted Case; but the truth was I was ashamed to
speak of such a thing, I thought every one would blurt out laughing in
my face. So I held my tongue, and thought all the more; and the more I
thought, the less I liked the business.
By Monday night I got it clearly in my head I must be tabooed. A new
store to stand open two days in a village and not a man or woman come to
see the trade was past believing.
"Uma," said I, "I think I am tabooed."
"I think so," said she.
I thought a while whether I should ask her more, but it's a bad idea to
set natives up with any notion of consulting them, so I went to Case. It
was dark, and he was sitting alone, as he did mostly, smoking on the
stairs.
"Case," said I, "here's a queer thing. I'm tabooed."
"O, fudge!" says he "'tain't the practice in these islands."
"That may be, or it mayn't," said I. "It's the practice where I was
before. You can bet I know what it's like; and I tell it you for a fact,
I'm tabooed."
"Well," said he, "what have you been doing?"
"That's what I want to find out," said I.
"O, you can't be," said he; "it ain't possible. However, I'll tell you
what I'll do. Just to put your mind at rest, I'll go round and find out
for sure. Just you waltz in and talk to Papa."
"Thank you," I said, "I'd rather stay right out here on the verandah.
Your house is so close."
"I'll call Papa out here, then," says he.
"My dear fellow," I says, "I wish you wouldn't. The fact is, I don't
take to Mr. Randall."
Case laughed, took a lantern from the store, and set out into the
village. He was gone perhaps a quarter of an hour, and he looked mighty
serious when he came back.
"Well," said he, clapping down the lantern on the verandah steps. "I
would never have believed it. I don't know where the impudence of these
Kanakas'll go next; they seem to have lost all idea of respect for
whites. What we want is a man-of-war--a German, if we could--they know
how to manage Kanakas."
"I _am_ tabooed, then?" I cried.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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