Grief considered, and poured a meagre drink. Pankburns eyes sparkled, and he took new lease of life.
And this is where I come in with the missing details, he said. Johnny Black did tell. He told my father. Wrote him from Levuka, before he came on to die at Peenoo-Peenee. My father had saved his life one rough-house night in Valparaiso. A Chink pearler, out of Thursday Island, prospecting for new grounds to the north of New Guinea, traded for the three spikes with a nigger. Johnny Black bought them for copper weight. He didnt dream any more than the Chink, but coming back he stopped for hawksbill turtle at the very beach where you say the mate of the Flirt was killed. Only he wasnt killed. The Banks Islanders held him prisoner, and he was dying of necrosis of the jawbone, caused by an arrow wound in the fight on the beach. Before he died he told the yarn to Johnny Black. Johnny Black wrote my father from Levuka. He was at the end of his rope cancer. My father, ten years afterward, when captain of the Perry, got the spikes from German Oscar. And from my father, last will and testament, you know, came the spikes and the data. I have the island, the latitude and longitude of the beach where the three spikes were nailed in the trees. The spikes are up at Lavinas now. The latitude and longitude are in my head. Now what do you think?
Fishy, was Griefs instant judgment. Why didnt your father go and get it himself?
Didnt need it. An uncle died and left him a fortune. He retired from the navy, ran foul of an epidemic of trained nurses in Boston, and my mother got a divorce. Also, she fell heir to an income of something like thirty thousand dollars, and went to live in New Zealand. I was divided between them, half-time New Zealand, half-time United States, until my fathers death last year. Now my mother has me altogether. He left me his money oh, a couple of millions but my mother has had guardians appointed on account of the drink. Im worth all kinds of money, but I cant touch a penny save what is doled out to me. But the old man, who had got the tip on my drinking, left me the three spikes and the data thereunto pertaining. Did it through his lawyers, unknown to my mother; said it beat life insurance, and that if I had the backbone to go and get it I could drink my back teeth awash until I died. Millions in the hands of my guardians, slathers of shekels of my mothers thatll be mine if she beats me to the crematory, another million waiting to be dug up, and in the meantime Im cadging on Lavina for two drinks a day. Its hell, isnt it? when you consider my thirst.
Wheres the island?
Its a long way from here.
Name it.
Not on your life, Captain Grief. Youre making an easy half-million out of this. You will sail under my directions, and when were well to sea and on our way Ill tell you and not before.
Grief shrugged his shoulders, dismissing the subject.
When Ive given you another drink Ill send the boat ashore with you, he said.
Pankburn was taken aback. For at least five minutes he debated with himself, then licked his lips and surrendered.
If you promise to go, Ill tell you now.
Of course Im willing to go. Thats why I asked you. Name the island.
Pankburn looked at the bottle.
Ill take that drink now, Captain.
No you wont. That drink was for you if you went ashore. If you are going to tell me the island, you must do it in your sober senses.
Francis Island, if you will have it. Bougainville named it Barbour Island.
Off there all by its lonely in the Little Coral Sea, Grief said. I know it. Lies between New Ireland and New Guinea. A rotten hole now, though it was all right when the Flirt drove in the spikes and the Chink pearler traded for them. The steamship Castor, recruiting labour for the Upolu plantations, was cut off there with all hands two years ago. I knew her captain well. The Germans sent a cruiser, shelled the bush, burned half a dozen villages, killed a couple of niggers and a lot of pigs, and and that was all. The niggers always were bad there, but they turned really bad forty years ago. That was when they cut off a whaler. Let me see? What was her name?
He stepped to the bookshelf, drew out the bulky South Pacific Directory, and ran through its pages.
Yes. Here it is. Francis, or Barbour, he skimmed. Natives warlike and treacherous Melanesian cannibals. Whaleship Western cut off that was her name. Shoals points anchorages ah, Redscar, Owen Bay, Likikili Bay, thats more like it; deep indentation, mangrove swamps, good holding in nine fathoms when white scar in bluff bears west-southwest. Grief looked up. Thats your beach, Pankburn, Ill swear.
Will you go? the other demanded eagerly.
Grief nodded.
It sounds good to me. Now if the story had been of a hundred millions, or some such crazy sum, I wouldnt look at it for a moment. Well sail to-morrow, but under one consideration. You are to be absolutely under my orders.
His visitor nodded emphatically and joyously.
And that means no drink.
Thats pretty hard, Pankburn whined.
Its my terms. Im enough of a doctor to see you dont come to harm. And you are to work hard work, sailors work. Youll stand regular watches and everything, though you eat and sleep aft with us.
Its a go. Pankburn put out his hand to ratify the agreement. If it doesnt kill me, he added.
David Grief poured a generous three-fingers into the tumbler and extended it.
Then heres your last drink. Take it.
Pankburns hand went halfway out. With a sudden spasm of resolution, he hesitated, threw back his shoulders, and straightened up his head.
I guess I wont, he began, then, feebly surrendering to the gnaw of desire, he reached hastily for the glass, as if in fear that it would be withdrawn.
IVIt is a long traverse from Papeete in the Societies to the Little Coral Sea from 100 west longitude to 150 east longitude as the crow flies the equivalent to a voyage across the Atlantic. But the Kittiwake did not go as the crow flies. David Griefs numerous interests diverted her course many times. He stopped to take a look-in at uninhabited Rose Island with an eye to colonizing and planting cocoa-nuts. Next, he paid his respects to Tui Manua, of Eastern Samoa, and opened an intrigue for a share of the trade monopoly of that dying kings three islands. From Apia he carried several relief agents and a load of trade goods to the Gilberts. He peeped in at Ontong-Java Atoll, inspected his plantations on Ysabel, and purchased lands from the salt-water chiefs of northwestern Malaita. And all along this devious way he made a man of Aloysius Pankburn.
That thirster, though he lived aft, was compelled to do the work of a common sailor. And not only did he take his wheel and lookout, and heave on sheets and tackles, but the dirtiest and most arduous tasks were appointed him. Swung aloft in a bosuns chair, he scraped the masts and slushed down. Holystoning the deck or scrubbing it with fresh limes made his back ache and developed the wasted, flabby muscles. When the Kittiwake lay at anchor and her copper bottom was scrubbed with cocoa-nut husks by the native crew, who dived and did it under water, Pankburn was sent down on his shift and as many times as any on the shift.
Look at yourself, Grief said. You are twice the man you were when you came on board. You havent had one drink, you didnt die, and the poison is pretty well worked out of you. Its the work. It beats trained nurses and business managers. Here, if youre thirsty. Clap your lips to this.