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
When I came to myself the second time the clouds had all cleared away,
except a few that sailed there, white as cotton. The moon was up--a
tropic moon. The moon at home turns a wood black, but even this old butt
end of a one showed up that forest as green as by day. The night
birds--or, rather, they're a kind of early morning bird--sang out with
their long, falling notes like nightingales. And I could see the dead
man, that I was still half resting on, looking right up into the sky
with his open eyes, no paler than when he was alive; and a little way
off Uma tumbled on her side. I got over to her the best way I was able,
and when I got there she was broad awake, and crying and sobbing to
herself with no more noise than an insect. It appears she was afraid to
cry out loud, because of the _aitus_. Altogether she was not much hurt,
but scared beyond belief; she had come to her senses a long while ago,
cried out to me, heard nothing in reply, made out we were both dead, and
had lain there ever since, afraid to budge a finger. The ball had
ploughed up her shoulder and she had lost a main quantity of blood; but
I soon had that tied up the way it ought to be with the tail of my shirt
and a scarf I had on, got her head on my sound knee and my back against
a trunk, and settled down to wait for morning. Uma was for neither use
nor ornament, and could only clutch hold of me and shake and cry. I
don't suppose there was ever anybody worse scared, and, to do her
justice, she had had a lively night of it. As for me, I was in a good
bit of pain and fever, but not so bad when I sat still; and every time I
looked over to Case I could have sung and whistled. Talk about meat and
drink! To see that man lying there dead as a herring filled me full.
The night birds stopped after a while; and then the light began to
change, the east came orange, the whole wood began to whirr with singing
like a musical box, and there was the broad day.
I didn't expect Maea for a long while yet; and indeed I thought there
was an off-chance he might go back on the whole idea and not come at
all. I was the better pleased when, about an hour after daylight, I
heard sticks smashing and a lot of Kanakas laughing and singing out to
keep their courage up.
Uma sat up quite brisk at the first word of it; and presently we saw a
party come stringing out of the path, Maea in front, and behind him a
white man in a pith helmet. It was Mr. Tarleton, who had turned up late
last night in Falesa, having left his boat and walked the last stage
with a lantern.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account