The Royal Handmaid (29 page)

A shout came from one of the group, and Travis murmured, “We’ve been spotted.” He raised his voice and said to the others following them, “Everyone hold steady, now. We’ll wait right here. They’ve seen us.”

Rena stood absolutely still and watched as the natives down the beach all leaped up and came running. She had time to
see their faces more clearly as they ran, and she had one clear thought:
They’re such a handsome people!

Indeed, they were an attractive group, but they all bore weapons in their hands—some had either smooth-shafted spears or crooked daggers, while others carried what looked like axes.

The leader gave a shout and lifted the long daggerlike weapon in his hand, and Rena understood that it was not a peaceful cry. The group broke apart like waves bursting on a rock and surrounded the little group of missionaries. They all lifted their weapons high, their eyes glittering with excitement. She saw that the men were short and the women even more so, and they all had black hair. The leader was taller than any of the others, and he positioned himself in front of Travis and Rena and spoke a few words that neither of them understood.

Travis lifted his hands into the air, palms up. “Everyone hold your hands up like this,” he instructed. “Chip or Meredith, can either of you understand what they’re saying?”

“I can’t,” Meredith said. “It sounds a little familiar, but I can’t make anything of it.”

Chip said, “I’m catching most of it. He told his warriors to kill us if we move.”

“Can you tell him we’re friends?”

“I’ll try,” Chip said. “Their language is similar to one I learned when I was a kid. Some of the words are pronounced a little differently.”

Chip began speaking in a halting voice, and Rena felt a rush of relief, for the chieftain before them half lowered the weapon in his hands. He listened and then spoke rapidly.

“He wants to know who we are,” Chip said.

“Tell him that we are friends and that we mean them no harm.”

As Chip translated the words as best he could, the chief kept his gaze fixed on Rena and Travis.

The man spoke again, this time a longer sentence.

“Best I can make out he wants to know who we are, how we got here, how long we’ve been here, and where we’re from.”

Travis said, “Ask if we can go to their camp and have a meeting with them. Tell them we have some gifts for them.”

Chip interpreted this, and for a moment Rena did not think the chief was convinced. But then she saw his eyes change. He spoke a word to his followers, then turned and started back toward the campfire.

Rena and the others followed, and Lanie whispered to Pete, “They don’t look like cannibals, do they?”

“I don’t know what a cannibal looks like,” Pete answered, keeping his voice low.

One of the women surrounding the missionaries as they walked along reached out and plucked at Lanie’s canvas dress. She said something that neither of them could understand.

“I think she likes your dress. Smile at her.”

Lanie smiled and spoke. “My name is Lanie. What is yours?”

She was greeted with a tumble of words, and the woman lifted her voice and called out something to the leader, who ignored her.

It was only about a hundred yards to their camp, and when they got there, Rena saw that they were roasting a goat. The meat had been skewered on sharp pointed sticks, and the aroma of cooking meat was in the air.

Travis looked back down the beach, searching it, and said, “I hope Novak keeps his head.” He had no time to say more when the chief turned to him, and the natives all circled around.

Rena noticed that they kept their weapons in their hands, and she said, “I hope they’re friendly.”

Chip had come to stand beside Travis to serve as interpreter. “Tell him we mean no harm. That we have no weapons,” Travis directed.

Rena listened to the language she couldn’t understand, grateful that Chip was with them.

When Chip had finished, the chief struck himself on the chest, and she heard the word
Lomu.

“That’s his name—Lomu,” Chip explained.

“Tell him my name,” Travis said. And when Chip had done this, he went on, “Ask the chief if he will sit down and talk with us.”

As Chip spoke, Lomu listened and watched Travis, but finally the man nodded.

“Everybody sit down and smile,” Travis said, “especially you ladies. We want to look friendly.”

Rena forced a smile to her face and joined the others as they sat down on the sand.

The chief spoke, and three of the women came and pulled some of the meat off of the fire. One of them offered it to Travis, who tore off a chunk and said, “Everybody take some of the meat and eat it.” They all followed suit, and Travis said, “Give the chief our thanks, Chip, and ask him if he will receive our gifts.”

Lomu listened as Chip spoke. He said nothing, but Chip said, “He’ll take our gifts, Travis.”

“Karl, let’s have that bag,” Travis instructed.

Benson, who had been bearing a large bag, as had Pete Alford, opened his, and Travis said, “Everyone come and get a gift. Mostly give them beads and this junk jewelry we bought in Hawaii.”

Rena reached in and got a bracelet made of sparkly red stone. It was not expensive, she knew, and she approached one of the young women who had brought them the meat. She smiled as she held up the bracelet. The woman stared at her. She was short but well shaped, and her skin was an almond brown, rather golden in texture. Her hair fell down her back and was as glossy as a crow’s wing. She reached out and took the bracelet, saying something Rena could not understand. She assumed the girl was asking what to do with it, and she smiled even more brilliantly and said, “You wear it on your wrist like this.” She slipped the bracelet onto the
woman’s wrist and was rewarded by a giggle. The woman held her wrist up, speaking rapidly to the others.

The other women were receiving similar gifts, and while the jewelry was being passed out, Travis unfastened the sheath from his belt and pulled out the knife he always carried at his side. It was a fine blade, and he always kept it spotlessly clean and as sharp as a razor. He approached Chief Lomu, bowed slightly, and smiled. Holding the knife out, he said, “This is my gift to you, Chief Lomu.”

Lomu stared at Travis, not moving. Travis thought the chief meant to reject the gift, so Travis held out his left arm and with a single stroke, shaved the hair off his arm. He looked up to see Lomu’s eyes turn bright with interest. The chief said something, then took the proffered knife. He tried the edge of it, and a pleased expression crossed his face. Travis said quietly, “We’re going to have to bring the other sailors in. If they find out we’re hiding people, we could have trouble.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Karl Benson said. “You know what they’re like.”

“We’ll have to caution them to behave themselves, but we have to be honest with these people.” Turning to Chip, he said, “Tell Chief Lomu that there are some others of our party that stayed behind farther down the beach. Ask if we can invite them to the meal.”

Travis listened as Chip spoke to the chief and saw a slight hesitation on Lomu’s part. Chip said, “He wants to know how many.”

“Tell him there are three.”

Lomu received this and nodded.

“Run down the beach, if you will, Dalton, and tell the others to join us calmly and peacefully.”

****

They all watched as Dalton ran down the beach in search of the crew members who had hung back. When he got close
to the edge of the tree line he called out, and the three men emerged.

They followed Dalton back to the gathering of natives and missionaries, and as they came closer, Travis called out, “Keep those guns in your pockets. They probably don’t know what they are, but they’re friendly, and we don’t want to harm them.”

Cerny held the rifle lightly in his left hand. He came forward and said, “They seem friendly enough.”

“Just don’t make any sudden moves,” Travis said, noticing that the native men were tense, their weapons ready. “Tell the chief we’d like to sit down and talk,” Travis said.

Lomu listened to Chip as he spoke and then nodded. They all sat down, but most of the natives kept to their feet. They were watching their visitors with avid curiosity.

The chief spoke a word, and two of the young men ran to the large catamaran. They came back, bearing vessels of some kind. “The chief wants us to drink with him. The peace drink, he calls it,” Chip said and smiled. “It’s going to be all right. When they offer to drink with you, they’re not going to cut your throat.”

The drink was offered to them in hollowed-out gourds. When Rena tasted it, it burned her throat. “I think this is whiskey,” she complained.

“Everybody take some of it anyway. It’d be impolite not to,” Travis directed.

Rena smiled as the jugs went around. She noticed that Novak, Day, and Olsen drank deeply from the vessels, and she whispered, “It was good we’ve been away from whiskey.”

“I’d just as soon they hadn’t offered this,” Travis said calmly, keeping a smile on his face but concerned about how the whiskey would affect the crew. “We’ll have to watch them.”

One of the native women offered Dalton a drink. He looked down at her, tasted it, and smiled. She reached up and put her hand on his face. Dalton was taken aback, but he did
not remove her hand. She called out something to the other women, and they all laughed. Even the men smiled.

“What did she say, Chip?” Rena asked.

“She says she likes him. She wants to have him for her man.”

Dalton flushed, but then he laughed. “She’s got good taste. I’ll say that much for her.” The woman said something else to him and handed him the jug again.

He took another drink, upon which Rena said, “Dalton, be careful. We don’t know what that is.”

“I’m all right,” he said. The young woman was now stroking his arm as she smiled up at him with her beautiful white teeth and bright eyes.

Disturbed by this, Travis said, “Dalton, watch what you’re doing.” Then he turned to the chief, who came and sat down in front of him. “Chip, tell him how we came to be on this island and how long we’ve been here.”

As Chip haltingly spoke to the chief, Rena noticed that the crew were taken with the women. She knew enough about men to know that there was real danger here. She looked over at Dalton again. The young woman standing beside him continued to smile. Rena saw her take Dalton’s hand and put it on her cheek. She also saw that Dalton seemed fascinated by the woman, and she wanted to cry out a warning but did not.

When Chip had finished, Lomu began to speak. Chip listened, then interpreted. “He says his grandfather saw white people once, but he did not believe they existed.”

“That means ships have never come to his island or he would have seen white people,” Maggie said.

“Not necessarily,” Meredith spoke up. “There could have been Chinese ships. They sail these waters too.”

Lomu spoke again, and Chip asked questions as prompted by Travis. It appeared that their home was two days’ voyage away. Their tribe was not large. He had not seen any ship with white people on it.

The conversation was slow because Chip was awkward
with the language. At one point Meredith said, “I could learn this language. It’s a little bit like Malay. I think it has the same kind of structure, and that’s about half the battle.”

“That would be good. I’m glad Chip’s with us. We’d be in trouble if he weren’t,” Rena said.

“Ask the chief if he’ll come to our settlement and honor us with a visit. Tell him that we have a few more people there. We’d like to offer him our hospitality.”

Chip put the question to the chief, who seemed to like the idea. He inquired as to how far it was, and then he began giving orders. He told Chip that they would go, but they would have to beach their craft.

The native men began to pull their catamaran up high on the beach, and they devised an anchor by driving stakes into the sand and tying the catamaran to it. That was apparently all the preparation they needed, for Lomu spoke again, and Chip translated. “He said let’s go. He will walk with you, Travis.” Chip grinned. “He thinks you’re the chief.”

“He’ll find out better than that soon enough.”

Lomu called his people, and Travis said, “Walk with us, Chief, and tell us about your people. Chip, you’ll have to interpret.”

They left the beach with Travis, Rena, and Chief Lomu speaking through Chip. Rena had time to notice that the crewmen were all watching the young woman who was interested in Dalton. She also noticed with some displeasure another factor. “They’re bringing that liquor with them. I wish they wouldn’t do that.”

“So do I,” Travis said, “but it’s their say.” He smiled and said, “We’re still alive. That’s the important thing.”

“Yes, God was with us, wasn’t He?”

“He always is.” Travis smiled and turned to question Chief Lomu.

****

When they were almost back to their own camp, Travis
noticed that the young woman was still clinging to Dalton, even more obviously now. “Chip, ask the chief who that woman is.”

Chip spoke, and when Lomu answered, he said, “Her name is Tabita.”

“I don’t know how to ask this, Chip, but find out why she’s hanging on to Dalton the way she does.”

Chip put forth the question, and when he received an answer, he said, “The chief says she lost her mate a while back.” He smiled briefly and said, “He says she’s been trying out men.”

“Trying out men!” Rena exclaimed. “What does that mean?”

“I reckon it means about what you think it means, Miss Rena,” Chip said. He shook his head sadly. “Not much morality among these people. If they’re like most of the tribes, women do about as they please in that respect.”

“Don’t they have any rules against . . . well, against adultery?”

“I don’t think so, miss.”

“Ask the chief about it. Be as tactful as you can,” Travis said.

The conversation went on for some time until they were almost in view of their camp. Finally Chip turned to them and said, “It’s about like I thought. Women are very lax. No rules like we’ve got. As a matter of fact, Lomu can’t even understand the question. When a man and a woman get married they’re monogamous, but if a woman has no mate, she’s pretty free to do what she pleases.”