Killman (26 page)

He nodded towards the shadows under the trees leading up the cliff path. They were materializing into dozens of semi-naked crouched forms moving out of the bush area. The latest arrivals spread out into a deep, threatening semicircle. They were small and slim, wearing loincloths and armed with spears or bows and arrows. Kella wondered if the tips had been coated with the customary poison made of ivy paste. The Guadalcanal men looked around in alarm. Another flotilla of islanders was swimming ashore, and more men were advancing up the beach, shaking the water vigorously from their bodies like savage dogs, to complete the encirclement of Boehrs and his men. Taking in the situation, the Guadalcanal mercenaries stood very still, clustering together for comfort and reassurance. Boehrs half raised his pistol. Kella shook his head.

‘Not a good idea,’ he said. ‘At best you’d get off two or three shots before they turned you into a human pincushion.’

‘You would be the first one I’d kill, I promise you that,’ Boehrs said vindictively.

‘That’s why it’s not a good idea, for either of us,’ Kella said.

Without waiting for his employer, impassively Schuman lowered his rifle to the ground and placed his hands on his head. Boehrs hesitated and then reluctantly followed suit. A plump islander with an amiable face, wearing shell bracelets on his wrists, pushed his way through the crowd. People made way for him respectfully. The plump man issued a few orders to the crowd. The men around him scattered in silence. Some of them started putting the finishing touches to the destruction of the dolphin pens. Others entered the tents and huts distributed about the camp and started carrying out their contents and piling them on the ground. Boehrs uttered a grunt of protest and moved forward involuntarily. Schuman placed a restraining hand on his arm. Boehrs subsided, chewing his lip and looking on as his possessions were ransacked. The plump man indicated that Kella should walk down to the beach with him.

‘Thank you, Kella,’ said Solodia, the high priest of the dolphin people. ‘We could have done it without you, but it was brave of you to risk your life for our dolphins.’

Solodia was in his forties. Like his forebears he had been selected for his position by acclaim, because of all men of his clan still alive, not only was he the finest navigator but he also had the greatest affinity with the sea beasts. Already he was being allowed to swim with the dolphins out at sea. It was accepted among his followers that when he died, he would become a dolphin and sport out in the great ocean with the others for ever.

‘Not so brave,’ said Kella. ‘I knew that the men from your villages were watching everything that was happening from the bush. They must have been there for days, ever since the German white man started trapping the dolphins.’

‘But you also knew that they would not attack until I gave the word,’ said Solodia. ‘You couldn’t be sure that I was near enough to take control, so you freed the dolphins on your own.’

‘The last time I saw you, by the reef shark shrine before I left for Tikopia, you were heading south,’ Kella said. ‘That probably meant that you were walking to the dolphin villages on Small Mala, which, as you say, are a long way from Kwaio country. However, the German told me that he was shipping the dolphins out of the country tomorrow. That meant I couldn’t wait until I was sure that you’d got here, which was what I wanted to do. I had to destroy the dam on my own and hope that you were on your way.’

‘You made the German very angry. We could all see that. He could have shot you.’

‘He might have,’ said Kella. ‘But the half-caste who works for him is a clever man. He knew that if I died there would be a blood feud between the Lau people and him. Under those circumstances it would serve his interests for him to do his best to persuade his boss to let me live.’

‘And the dolphin people would have been after him as well,’ promised Solodia. ‘The half-blood and the German would have been dead before the next full moon, that is certain. But that wouldn’t have done you any good if you had two or three bullet holes in you by then. It was a courageous action and the dolphin people are in your debt.’

Call it a professional courtesy, thought Kella self-deprecatingly, but he could not think of a phrase in either of their languages or in pidgin that would cover the expression. Instead he extended a hand to the high priest of the dolphins.

‘I must be on my way,’ he said. ‘May the dolphins and the sharks live together in peace under the protection of Agalimae, the high god of the universe.’

Kella walked over to Schuman, who was standing quietly under the shelter of a palm tree. ‘I’ll remember that you persuaded Boehrs not to kill me,’ he said. ‘I had no idea you were so kind-hearted.’

‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ said the half-caste. ‘I know you, Kella. You would never have come back and released the dolphins and made so much noise about it in the process unless you were pretty sure that help was on its way. You knew that Mr Boehrs and the rest of us were about to be overwhelmed by an invasion from the dolphin worshippers. If they had found your dead body by the pool, our throats would have been cut by now.’

‘Probably,’ agreed Kella. ‘So you made sure that I stayed alive. Well, if you weren’t soft-hearted, at least you showed a bit of common sense. You’d better start taking your boss back to Auki. I’m going to ask you to walk all the way, I’m afraid. That will give you time to reflect upon the error of your ways and give everyone the opportunity to cool down. I take it you know the way over the mountains? You should reach Auki on foot in three or four days.’

Schuman nodded. ‘Very well,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m sure we’ll be meeting again, Kella.’

‘If I were a gambling man, and I am, I’d put money on it.’

‘I’ll look forward to that,’ said the half-caste. He looked over at the stunned Boehrs, who was watching in disbelief the systematic looting of his goods by the islanders. He beckoned to the German to join them. ‘We’d better be on our way, Mr Boehrs,’ he said.

‘Are you going to let them treat me like this?’ asked Boehrs dazedly. He seemed too overwhelmed by what was happening to remain outraged. ‘I’m paying you to deal with these situations.’

‘You pay me to keep you alive, Mr Boehrs, and so far I’ve managed to do that. Take my word for it, not everyone who comes up against Kella is that fortunate.’

‘But he’s a policeman!’ said the German. ‘Does that mean nothing to him?’

‘He’s a lot of things, Mr Boehrs, and at this moment upholding the British rule of law among the dolphin worshippers is very low on his order of priorities. Kella has just sorted out a very difficult custom dispute in rather a clever manner. You may have lost a little money on the deal, but at least you’re still alive. I don’t think we should impose upon the sergeant’s good nature any longer. In short, my urgent recommendation is that we stop pushing our luck and start walking. Shall we go?’

‘But what about all my equipment?’ asked Boehrs, gesturing wildly at the piles of loot.

‘That stays here,’ said Kella. ‘The islanders will divide it up among themselves after you’ve gone. If it’s any consolation to you, you will have contributed significantly to the local economy and general standard of life for the next few months.’

‘But this is theft!’ screamed the German.

‘I prefer to think of it as reparation for all the damage you have caused to the dolphins and their gods. As Schuman says, you’re a businessman; I suggest that you enter it in your ledger in the losses column.’

‘Are you serious? What’s the matter with you, man? You’re supposed to be one of the civilized natives! Whose side are you on, for God’s sake?’

‘Nobody’s,’ said Kella. ‘That’s part of the problem.’

With an effort Boehrs brought himself under control. ‘As soon as I get back to Honiara I shall be making an official complaint about your part in this matter,’ he promised.

‘That is your privilege, sir. However, my role in the affair has been relatively trivial. You interfered with local traditions and trespassed on custom land. I was fortunate enough to come along in time to save you from the consequences of your impulsiveness and general ignorance.’ Boehrs started to speak, but Kella raised his voice. ‘Oh, I know you have a temporary lease on the land on this section of the coast, but through hundreds of years of usage, the dolphin men happen to own all the sea. By taking the dolphins from their waters, you broke both the local and the national law.’ He paused. ‘The expatriate official who granted you your lease probably didn’t know that, but that’s a matter you can discuss with your legal representatives when you get back to Honiara.’

‘Don’t worry, I shall! We’ll see what the courts have to say about this!’

Kella studied the islanders surrounding them, checking them off and identifying some of them. ‘As you wish, Mr Boehrs, but I wouldn’t raise your hopes too much if you’re thinking of seeking compensation. Among the witnesses I could call from this assembly before us, in defence of any legal action, I can see four government-appointed headmen, two former scouts decorated for bravery during the war and a young man soon to embark upon a degree course at the University of the South Pacific. You, of course, will be free to summon Mr Schuman and your Guadalcanal toughs to give evidence on your behalf, should you require it.’ Kella paused. ‘Now, I don’t wish to speed the parting guest, but you really ought to be on your way, Mr Boehrs. If you start now, you’ll get a few hours of walking in before the sun rises.’

‘Is that your last word?’ asked Boehrs stiffly.

‘No, my last word is this: stay away from the dolphins!’

‘We’re going,’ said Schuman, starting to trudge up the track towards the cliff. Boehrs hesitated, and then hurried after the other man, stumbling over the great roots growing out of the ground in his haste. Neither man made any effort to pick up their weapons. At the top of the track Schuman stopped and looked back at Kella, while the German brushed past him heedlessly, his head lowered, lost in his bitter thoughts. The sergeant wondered under what circumstances he and Schuman would meet again. He was sure they would.

He walked over to the Guadalcanal men, who were sitting in an apprehensive circle on the ground, their hands on their heads. They were being taunted sadistically by a guard detail of Malaitan warriors. Every now and then one of the dolphin worshippers would drive the blunt end of a spear into the side of one of his prisoners with a loud smack, just to make sure that he had the captive’s undivided attention. Kella frowned disapprovingly. The last dolphin man to strike a prisoner grinned and took an exaggerated step back, lifting his free hand to show that he had only been playing. Kella cleared his throat and addressed the bowed heads of the utterly dispirited and resigned Guadalcanal mercenaries.

‘You have two choices,’ he said abruptly. ‘You can stay here in Kwaio territory and take your chances. Personally, after all that has happened, I would not recommend that option.’ The expressions on the faces of the Weather Coast men attested to their complete agreement with his remark.

‘Or’, he went on, ‘you can make your way down to Aio harbour and wait there. It should take you about two days’ hard walking. I guarantee your safe passage through the tribes on the way. You must not touch any gardens nor hunt any animals, but you may pick fruit from trees in the bush and drink from streams. In less than a week a ship called
The Spirit of the Islands
will put in at Aio. You will be offered a free deck passage on board back to Guadalcanal. After that you’re on your own.’

Kella need not have bothered with the last sentence. The Guadalcanal prisoners, hardly able to believe their luck, were already on their feet and jostling one another on their way across to the beach. Kella watched the relieved men shuffling away along the sand before he walked over to Solodia. The villagers were still industriously carrying goods out of the tents and huts and apportioning them among themselves with a minimum of squabbling. Not for the first time Kella marvelled at the sheer volume of items regarded as essential by expatriates on tour. There were piles of cooking utensils, sacks of tinned goods, bags of rice, several portable beds, sheets, blankets and pillows, fold-up chairs and tables, a shotgun and cartons of ammunition, a camera, a radio, clothes and even a pile of spare clothes hangers.

Solodia nodded. ‘I have decided,’ he said. ‘I shall spread the word. White men will no longer be welcome on my coast.’

‘There is a Catholic sister from the mission,’ Kella said. ‘Her name is Conchita.’

‘The one they call the Praying Mary? I have heard of her.’

‘I would regard it as a personal favour if you allowed her to come and go freely among your villages when she wants to do so.’

‘So be it,’ said Solodia, taking the sergeant’s proffered hand. ‘She will be welcome, as will you,
aofia
.’

‘Tell me,’ Kella said. ‘Those two dolphins who pushed my canoe around when I was talking to the reef god, were they trying to tell me about Boehrs and his trap?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Solodia. ‘Maybe. One day I’ll ask them for you.’ The high priest paused. ‘I have heard certain things as I walked up the coast to destroy the foreign hunters.’

‘What have you heard?’ asked Kella.

‘They tell me that Kella the peacemaker is looking for a Japanese warrior who is still in the bush.’

‘There is some truth in that. It is certainly true that I am looking into such a matter,’ said Kella, not wanting to go into the whole story.

‘In that case, I can help you,’ said Solodia. ‘I know where this Japani is. I can send a boy with you to show you the way. You won’t be the first to get there, but that doesn’t matter. The Japani doesn’t get many visitors.’

‘I take it that this is the famous Mr Abalolo that you have been at such great pains to conceal from us,’ said Sister Conchita, looking down at the tethered, abject Tikopian. The dejected figure did not look up.

‘This is Abalolo,’ said Brother John cautiously. ‘What makes you think that I’ve been hiding him?’

They were standing in the centre of the village. Scrawny dogs and pigs snuffled hopefully among heaps of rubbish. The men who had brought them up the track were standing a hundred yards away, watching them expressionlessly. Tendrils of smoke from a dozen cooking fires drifted out through the open doorways of the huts. Five minutes earlier, some old women had brought them coconut husks filled with brackish water. It was not much, but it was probably all they had, thought the nun.