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warrior presents a white man's head； fresh and gory； and claims the pot。
All the foregoing is quite true； and yet there are white men who have
lived in the Solomons a score of years and who feel homesick when they
go away from them。 A man needs only to be careful and luckyto live a
long time in the Solomons； but he must also be of the right sort。 He must
have the hallmark of the inevitable white man stamped upon his soul。 He
must be inevitable。 He must have a certain grand carelessness of odds； a
certain colossal self…satisfaction； and a racial egotism that convinces him
that one white is better than a thousand niggers every day in the week； and
that on Sunday he is able to clean out two thousand niggers。 For such are
the things that have made the white man inevitable。 Oh； and one other
thingthe white man who wishes to be inevitable； must not merely despise
the lesser breeds and think a lot of himself； he must also fail to be too long
on imagination。 He must not understand too well the instincts； customs；
and mental processes of the blacks； the yellows； and the browns； for it is
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not in such fashion that the white race has tramped its royal road around
the world。
Bertie Arkwright was not inevitable。 He was too sensitive； too finely
strung； and he possessed too much imagination。 The world was too much
with him。 He projected himself too quiveringly into his environment。
Therefore； the last place in the world for him to come was the Solomons。
He did not come； expecting to stay。 A five weeks' stop…over between
steamers； he decided； would satisfy the call of the primitive he felt
thrumming the strings of his being。 At least； so he told the lady tourists on
the MAKEMBO； though in different terms； and they worshipped him as a
hero； for they were lady tourists and they would know only the safety of
the steamer's deck as she threaded her way through the Solomons。
There was another man on board； of whom the ladies took no notice。
He was a little shriveled wisp of a man； with a withered skin the color of
mahogany。 His name on the passenger list does not matter； but his other
name； Captain Malu； was a name for niggers to conjure with； and to scare
naughty pickaninnies to righteousness from New Hanover to the New
Hebrides。 He had farmed savages and savagery； and from fever and
hardship； the crack of Sniders and the lash of the overseers； had wrested
five millions of money in the form of b 坈 he…de…mer； sandalwood； pearl…
shell and turtle…shell； ivory nuts and copra； grasslands； trading stations；
and plantations。 Captain Malu's little finger； which was broken； had more
inevitableness in it than Bertie Arkwright's whole carcass。 But then； the
lady tourists had nothing by which to judge save appearances； and Bertie
certainly was a fine…looking man。
Bertie talked with Captain Malu in the smoking room； confiding to
him his intention of seeing life red and bleeding in the Solomons。 Captain
Malu agreed that the intention was ambitious and honorable。 It was not
until several days later that he became interested in Bertie； when that
young adventurer insisted on showing him an automatic 44…caliber pistol。
Bertie explained the mechanism and demonstrated by slipping a loaded
magazine up the hollow butt。
〃It is so simple；〃 he said。 He shot the outer barrel back along the inner
one。 〃That loads it and cocks it； you see。 And then all I have to do is pull
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the trigger； eight times； as fast as I can quiver my finger。 See that safety
clutch。 That's what I like about it。 It is safe。 It is positively fool…proof。〃 He
slipped out the magazine。 〃You see how safe it is。〃
As he held it in his hand； the muzzle came in line with Captain Malu's
stomach。 Captain Malu's blue eyes looked at it unswervingly。
〃Would you mind pointing it in some other direction？〃 he asked。
〃It's perfectly safe；〃 Bertie assured him。 〃I withdrew the magazine。 It's
not loaded now； you know。〃
〃A gun is always loaded。〃
〃But this one isn't。〃
〃Turn it away just the same。〃
Captain Malu's voice was flat and metallic and low； but his eyes never
left the muzzle until the line of it was drawn past him and away from him。
〃I'll bet a fiver it isn't loaded；〃 Bertie proposed warmly。
The other shook his head。
〃Then I'll show you。〃
Bertie started to put the muzzle to his own temple with the evident
intention of pulling the trigger。
〃Just a second；〃 Captain Malu said quietly； reaching out his hand。 〃Let
me look at it。〃
He pointed it seaward and pulled the trigger。 A heavy explosion
followed； instantaneous with the sharp click of the mechanism that flipped
a hot and smoking cartridge sidewise along the deck。
Bertie's jaw dropped in amazement。
〃I slipped the barrel back once； didn't I？〃 he explained。 It was silly of
me； I must say。〃
He giggled flabbily； and sat down in a steamer chair。 The blood had
ebbed from his face； exposing dark circles under his eyes。 His hands
were trembling and unable to guide the shaking cigarette to his lips。 The
world was too much with him； and he saw himself with dripping brains
prone upon the deck
〃Really；〃 he said； 〃。 。 。 really。〃
〃It's a pretty weapon；〃 said Captain Malu； returning the automatic to
him。
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The Commissioner was on board the Makembo； returning from
Sydney； and by his permission a stop was made at Ugi to land a
missionary。 And at Ugi lay the ketch ARLA； Captain Hansen； skipper。
Now the Arla was one of many vessels owned by Captain Malu； and it was
at his suggestion and by his invitation that Bertie went aboard the Arla as
guest for a four days' recruiting cruise on the coast of Malaita。 Thereafter
the ARLA would drop him at Reminge Plantation （also owned by Captain
Malu）； where Bertie could remain for a week； and then be sent over to
Tulagi； the seat of government； where he would become the
Commissioner's guest。 Captain Malu was responsible for two other
suggestions； which given； he disappears from this narrative。 One was to
Captain Hansen； the other to Mr。 Harriwell； manager of Reminge
Plantation。 Both suggestions were similar in tenor； namely； to give Mr。
Bertram Arkwright an insight into the rawness and redness of life in the
Solomons。 Also； it is whispered that Captain Malu mentioned that a case
of Scotch would be coincidental with any particularly gorgeous insight Mr。
Arkwright might
receive。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。
〃Yes； Swartz always was too pig…headed。 You see； he took four of his
boat's crew to Tulagi to be floggedofficially； you knowthen started
back with them in the whaleboat。 It was pretty squally； and the boat
capsized just outside。 Swartz was the only one drowned。 Of course； it was
an accident。〃
〃Was it？ Really？〃 Bertie asked； only half…interested； staring hard at the
black man at the wheel。
Ugi had dropped astern； and the ARLA was sliding along through a
summer sea toward the wooded ranges of Malaita。 The helmsman who so
attracted Bertie's eyes sported a ten penny nail； stuck skewerwise through
his nose。 About his neck was a string of pants buttons。 Thrust through
holes in his ears were a can opener； the broken handle of a toothbrush； a
clay pipe； the brass wheel of an alarm clock； and several Winchester rifle
cartridges。
On his chest； suspended from around his neck hung the half of a china
plate。 Some forty similarly appareled blacks lay about the deck； fifteen of
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which were boat's crew； the remainder being fresh labor recruits。
〃Of course it w