第77章 CHAPTER XXXI(1)
IT was an easier task when all was over to set the little Amazons on their horses than to keep them there, for by the time we had perched one on her saddle, or pad rather, and adjusted her with the greatest nicety, another whom we had just left would lose her balance and fall with a scream to the ground. It was almost as difficult as packing mules on the prairie. For my part it must be confessed that I left the completion of the job to others. Curious and entertaining as the feast was, my whole attention was centred and absorbed in Arakeeta, which that artful little enchantress had the gift to know, and lashed me accordingly with her eyes more cruelly than she had done with her whip.
I had got so far, you see, as to learn her name, the first instalment of an intimacy which my demolished heart was staked on perfecting. I noticed that she refused the KAVA with real or affected repugnance; and when the passage of arms, and legs, began, she slipped away, caught her animal, and with a parting laugh at me, started off for home. There was not the faintest shadow of encouragement in her saucy looks to follow her. Still, she was a year older than Juliet, who was nearly fourteen; so, who could say what those looks might veil? Besides:
Das Naturell der Frauen Ist so nah mit Kunst verwandt, that one might easily be mistaken. Anyhow, flight provoked pursuit; I jumped on to my horse, and raced along the plain like mad. She saw me coming, and flogged the more, but being the better mounted of the two, by degrees I overhauled her.
As I ranged alongside, neither slackened speed; and reaching out to catch her bridle, my knee hooked under the hollow of hers, twisted her clean off her pad, and in a moment she lay senseless on the ground. I flung myself from my horse, and laid her head upon my lap. Good God! had I broken her neck!
She did not stir; her eyes were closed, but she breathed, and her heart beat quickly. I was wild with terror and remorse.
I looked back for aid, but the others had not started; we were still a mile or more from Honolulu. I knew not what to do. I kissed her forehead, I called her by her name. But she lay like a child asleep. Presently her dazed eyes opened and stared with wonderment, and then she smiled. The tears, I think, were on my cheeks, and seeing them, she put her arms around my neck and - forgave me.
She had fallen on her head and had been stunned. I caught the horses while she sat still, and we walked them slowly home. When we got within sight of her hut on the outskirts of the town, she would not let me go further. There was sadness in her look when we parted. I made her understand (I had picked up two or three words) that I would return to see her. She at once shook her head with an expression of something akin to fear. I too felt sorrowful, and worse than sorrowful, jealous.
When the night fell I sought her hut. It was one of the better kind, built like others mainly with matting; no doors or windows, but with an extensive verandah which protected the inner part from rain and sun. Now and again I caught glimpses of Arakeeta's fairy form flitting in, or obscuring, the lamplight. I could see two other women and two men. Who and what were they? Was one of those dark forms an Othello, ready to smother his Desdemona? Or were either of them a Valentine between my Marguerite and me? Though there was no moon, I dared not venture within the lamp's rays, for her sake; for my own, I was reckless now - I would have thanked either of them to brain me with his hoe. But Arakeeta came not.
In the day-time I roamed about the district, about the TARO fields, in case she might be working there. Every evening before sundown, many of the women and some of the well-to-do men, and a few whites, used to ride on the plain that stretches along the shore between the fringe of palm groves and the mountain spurs. I had seen Arakeeta amongst them before the LOOHOU feast. She had given this up now, and why?
Night after night I hovered about the hut. When she was in the verandah I whispered her name. She started and peered into the dark, hesitated, then fled. Again the same thing happened. She had heard me, she knew that I was there, but she came not; no, wiser than I, she came not. And though I sighed:
What is worth The rest of Heaven, the rest of earth? the shrewd little wench doubtless told herself: 'A quiet life, without the fear of the broomstick.'
Fred was impatient to be off, I had already trespassed too long on the kind hospitality of General Miller, neither of us had heard from England for more than a year, and the opportunities of trading vessels to California seldom offered. A rare chance came - a fast-sailing brig, the 'Corsair,' was to leave in a few days for San Francisco. The captain was an Englishman, and had the repute of being a boon companion and a good caterer. We - I, passively - settled to go. Samson decided to remain. He wanted to visit Owyhee.
He came on board with us, however; and, with a parting bumper of champagne, we said 'Good-bye.' That was the last I ever saw of him. The hardships had broken him down. He died not long after.
The light breeze carried us slowly away - for the first time for many long months with our faces to the east. But it was not 'merry' England that filled my juvenile fancies. I leaned upon the taffrail and watched this lovely land of the 'flowery food' fade slowly from my sight. I had eaten of the Lotus, and knew no wish but to linger on, to roam no more, to return no more, to any home that was not Arakeeta's.
This sort of feeling is not very uncommon in early life. And 'out of sight, out of mind,' is also a known experience.
Long before we reached San Fr'isco I was again eager for adventure.