Limekiller!

“Presumptuous boy,” Sir Joshua said, without malice. “Why — I shan’t tell them a thing, in King Town. They won’t even ask. In fact, they are no doubt simply delighted to have had me available in this crisis. Whom would thev have sent, instead? The Minister for Social Development? The Under-secretary for Public Health? — As for London, I can’t tell you a thing, my boy, ’twouldn’t be constitutional, you know. Suffice it to say: No trouble from London. In fact, no trouble in London. What would you think? A question asked in the House of Commons? Tchah. Put it out of your mind.”

Far, far ahead, the Mountains of the Morning lifted their hazy peaks against the early evening sky. Faint, faint, yet much, much nearer, the low-lying coast began to come into focus. “Gladly,’’Jack said. “So. well. Oh, yes. I want to ask you. What about Kipling’s story, The Man Who Would Be King.?”

“Ah, yes. Well. Well, I didn't mean that our poor man would have been king. I mean that Daniel whatever his name was, Daniel Dravit, was it? Kipling’s character. Where was I. Mmm. Yes. Back there in Kaffiristan. White Kaffirs of the Hindu Kush. Fact, you know, not fiction. Well, the story was fiction itself. What I mean is: fellow in the story, Daniel, allowed the heathen, the kaffirs, to think he was a god, you know. Didn’t in so many words say so. Let them think so. And when the wench bit him and drew his blood, why that was bloody well that. Well, similar thing with poor Cook. The Hawaiians thought that he was a god, one of their native gods. Name of Lono. Symbol of Lono was white cloth on a pole. They had no sails, you know, Hawaiian chaps, I mean. When they saw Cook’s ships coming in, poles crowded with white cloth sails, why — obvious conclusion — Lono. And Cook let them think so. He went along with it. Let himself be worshipped, accepted offerings, the whole thing — Then there was all that trouble at the shore, forget just why, and some native chap hit him with a spear, twasn’t a fatal thrust, no. The blow itself wasn’t fatal. But he groaned. Cook groaned!”

Sir Joshua took a hand from the wheel, put it to his side, made realistic noises. What? A god groan? A god feel pain? Native fellows were furious! They’d been done, you see, and suddenly they knew' it. Pranged the poor fellow, cut him down, and —”

Limekiller had been listening with a mixture of fascination and confusion. Now he had to stop the narrative and get a firmer grip and grasp on it. “Excuse me, Sir Joshua —”

„— ah — Mmm — Yes, my boy. What?”

“What is the connection?”

Sir Joshua considered this. Evidently it confused him. “Connection with what, Jack?”

“I mean. what is the connection between Captain Cook and. well, with anything? Anything at all? That was in Hawaii. And we —

At a sudden hail from Sir Joshua, Harlow came and took the helm. Sir Joshua, taking Limekiller by the arm, led him back and sat him down. “Now, my boy,” he began. He seemed to be struggling with a slight show of temper. Then control won. “Now, my boy, it is exactly Captain Cook who. well confound it, boy!” Control lost. “Who in blazes do you think this so-called Bloody Man, this alleged Captain Blood is?” In a lower voice, he said, “Was. ”

There was a rather long silence. Then Limekiller said, “Do you mean it is supposed to have been Captain Cook? The Captain —”

Sir Joshua shook his head, sadly. Then he asked Limekiller what he meant by “supposed to have been”? Had not Limekiller seen the whole thing? Hadn’t Limekiller described the gaping wound in the man’s side? Had he or had he not?

“Yes, yes! But. as I told Harlow, when he — well, in another connection: the wound which I saw was far too large for a spear- thrust. You yourself just said the spear-thrust wasn’t fatal. He was killed, Cook, you said, he was killed when they cut him down.”

“Ah, yes,” Sir Joshua said, somberly. “They cut him down all right. And then they cut him up!“

And then it all came back to Limekiller. “Polk,” there was no “Polk,” that was only his ear, catching at a name he was not expecting to hear, and catching instead a name which hadn’t even been uttered. Captain Cook. Oh yes. Of course. Yes, they had cut him up. They had cut him all the way up. They had cut him into pieces. And they had sent each piece to one of the district chiefs. Of course, they had brought them back, by and by. Very soon, in fact. For one thing, there were, after all, the heavy guns of His Majesty’s ships. And, for another — But the for another didn’t matter. They had brought back the pieces of Captain Cook.

That is, they had brought back all but one of the pieces of the body of Captain Cook.

The Hawaiians had been cannibal, then… at any rate, upon occasion.

“And that one piece?”

Sir Joshua sighed heavily. Again, he wiped his face. “It was a piece of his right side,” he said.