"Then that settles it," said Corrie. "Thanks, Kervyn."
Rosetti no longer had a prisoner, but he walked back with Corrie and Sarina to where Jerry lay. He pretended that he came to inquire about Jerry's wound, but he sat down and remained after Jerry had assured him that he was all right.
At a little distance from them, Bubonovitch was cleaning his rifle. He thought that Rosetti would soon join him, and then he could ask about the woman Shrimp had brought in. But Shrimp did not join him. He remained with Jerry and the two women. It was most unlike Shrimp, to choose the society of ladies when he could avoid it. Bubonovitch was puzzled; so he went over and joined the party.
Sarina was telling about her encounter with Rosetti. "He told me to stick up my mitts, and said he was going to frisk me. American is a very funny language."
Jerry was laughing. "Rosetti doesn't speak American—just Chicagoese."
"Where in the world did you learn to speak English, Sarina?" asked Corrie.
"In a Catholic missionary school in the Gilberts. My father always took my mother and me on all his cruises. Except for the two years I spent at the mission at Tarawa , I lived my entire life on board his schooner until I was twenty-nine. My mother died when I was still a little girl, but my father kept me with him. He was a very wicked man, but he was always kind to us. We cruised all over the South Seas , and about every two years we made the Gilberts, trading at different islands along the way, with piracy and murder as a side line.
"Father wanted me to have an education; so, when I was twelve, he left me at that mission school until his next trip two years later. I learned a great deal there. From my father, I learned Dutch. I think he was a well educated man. He had a library of very good books on his ship. He never told me anything about his past—not even his true name. Everybody called him Big Jon. He taught me navigation. From the time I was fourteen I was his first mate. It was not a nice job for a girl, as father's crews were usually made up of the lowest types of criminals. No one else would sail with him. I got a smattering of Japanese and Chinese from various crew members. We shipped all nationalities. Oftentimes father Shanghaied them. When father was drunk, I captained the ship. It was a tough job, and I had to be tough. I carried on with the help of a couple of pistols. I was never without them."
Rosetti never took his eyes from Sarina. He seemed hypnotized by her. Bubonovitch watched him with something akin to amazement. However, he had to admit that Sarina was not hard on the eyes.
"Where is your father now?" asked Jerry.
"Probably in Hell. One of his murders finally caught up with him, and he was hanged. It was after he was arrested that Mr. and Mrs. van der Meer were so kind to me."
The gathering broke up a moment later, when the doctor came to check on Jerry. Corrie and Sarina went to the shelter occupied by the former, and Bubonovitch and Rosetti went and sat down in front of theirs.
"Wot a dame!" exclaimed Rosetti.
"Who? Corrie?"
Shrimp shot a quick glance at Bubonovitch and caught the tail end of a fleeting smile. He guessed he was being ribbed.
"No;" he said. "I was referrin' to Eleanor."
"Did you by any chance notice that pistol packin' mamma with Corrie?" asked Bubonovitch. "Now there is a cute little piece of femininity after my own heart. I sure fell for her."
"You got a wife an' a kid," Shrimp reminded him.
"My affection is merely platonic. I shouldn't care to have a lady pirate take me too seriously. I suppose that if any of her gentlemen friends annoyed her, she made them walk the plank."
"Just think of dat little kid alone on a ship wit a lot of pirates an' her ol' man drunk!"
"I sort of got the impression that the little lady can take care of herself. Just take a slant at her background. You remember Corrie told us one of her grandfathers was a head hunter and the other was a cannibal, and now it develops that her father was a pirate and a murderer. And just to make the whole picture perfect Sarina was doing life in the clink for a little murder of her own."
"Just the same she's awful pretty," said Rosetti.
"Migawd!" exclaimed Bubonovitch. "Et tu, Brute!"
"I don't know wot you're talkin' about; but if you're crackin' wise about dat little dame—don't."
"I was not cracking wise. I wouldn't think of offending your sensibilities for the world, Shrimp. I was merely recalling a statement you made quite recently. Let's see—how did it go? 'I wouldn't have Dorothy Lamour if she got down on her knees and asked me!'"
"Well, I wouldn't. I wouldn't have none of 'em. But can't a guy say a dame's pretty widout you soundin' off?"
"Shrimpy, I saw you looking at her—goggle-eyed. I know the symptoms. You've gone plain ga-ga."
"You're nuts."
Chapter 24
THEY broke camp the following morning and moved slowly, the wounded men still litter borne. Where the trail was wide enough, Corrie walked beside Jerry's litter. Sarina was behind her, and Rosetti walked with Sarina. Bubonovitch and several Dutchmen formed a rear guard. As none of the latter spoke English and Bubonovitch spoke no Dutch, the American had opportunity for meditation. Among other things, he meditated on the remarkable effect that some women had on some men. Reefers or snow made men goofy. Corrie and Sarina seemed to have a similar effect on Jerry and Rosetti. In Jerry's case it was not so remarkable. But Shrimp! Shrimp was a confirmed woman hater, yet all of a sudden he had gone overboard for a brown skinned Eurasian murderess old enough to be his mother.
Bubonovitch had to admit that Sarina was plenty good-looking. That was the hell of it. He was mighty fond of Rosetti, and so he hoped that the little sergeant didn't go too far. He didn't know much about women, and Sarina didn't seem exactly the safe type to learn from. Bubonovitch recalled a verse from Kipling;
She knifed me one night
'cause I wished she was white,
An' I learned about women from 'er.
Bubonovitch sighed. After all, he thought, maybe Shrimp wasn't altogether wrong when he said, "Dey don't have to do nuttin'. Just bein' a dame spells trouble."
He abandoned this line of thought as unprofitable, and commenced to wonder about Tarzan. Jerry was wondering about him, too; and he voiced his misgivings to Corrie. "I'm commencing to worry about Tarzan," he said. "He's been gone two days now, and shortly after he disappeared some of the men thought they heard firing far off in the forest from the direction in which the Japs retreated."
"But what in he world would he be doing back there?" objected Corrie.
"He is not like other men; so it would be useless for one of us to try to imagine what might impel him to the commission of any act. At times, as you well know, he acts like a wild beast. So there must be stimuli which cause him to think and react like a wild beast. You know how he feels about taking life, yet you heard him say that it was his duty to kill Japs."
"And you think he may have followed them in order to kill some more of them?" suggested Corrie.
"Yes, and maybe got killed himself."
"Oh, no! That is too terrible, even to think."
"I know, but it is possible. And if he doesn't show up, we'll have to carry on without him. Gripes! I haven't half realized how dependent we have been on him. We'd certainly have been on short rations most of the time if he hadn't been along to hunt for us."
"I should long since have quit needing rations but for him," said Corrie. "I still see that tiger sometimes in my dreams. And Oju—ugh!"
They were silent for a while. Jerry lay with his eyes half closed. He was rolling his head slightly from side to side. "Feeling all right?" Corrie asked.
"Yes—fine. I wonder how much farther it is to camp."