`What a wonderful situation you have here,' Gregory remarked. `It must be one of the most beautiful views in the South Seas.'
`It is,' agreed James. 'But down by the coast the scenery is not quite up to that in several other islands. The loveliest of all, I think, is Western Samoa. There is a stretch of forty miles there, where the road winds along within sight of the sea and for long distances only a hundred yards or so from it. You could not describe it as a built up area, but for its whole length, instead of scattered villages, there are, at short intervals, houses with pretty gardens. They are mostly native bures, of course, and unlike those in Fiji or here, their thatched roofs are supported by poles between which are reed curtains that can be let down in times of bad weather. Normally the colourfully clad people who live in them can be seen going about their daily tasks, and the interiors are always neat and clean. Against a back drop of palms and jungle, which slope up to the heights behind them, they are enchanting.!
'How about Eastern Samoa?'
`That, too, is lovely; but in a different way. The coast road is a corniche, in most places a hundred or so feet above the sea and dropping steeply to a succession of charming little bays. The villages along it are few and far between, and consist mostly of tin roofed, open sided, brick bungalows, built by the generous Americans after a great number of the bures of the unfortunate natives were destroyed some years ago by a terrible hurricane.
`The principal attraction there is Pago Pago. Hundreds of years ago its site was occupied by an enormous volcano. One day it erupted with such terrific violence that it broke down a short strip of the coast, so that the ocean rushed in and turned the crater into a vast, almost land locked lagoon. The little town of Pago Pago stands along an inner arm of it. Not many years ago, on the extremity of the arm, overlooking the bay, the Americans put up their great Intercontinental Hotel, and the architect they employed did a splendid job for them. Instead of the usual big, oblong box, all the buildings, including about a score of separate bures, are copied from the local native design, and have roofs the shape of broad, upside down boats. The hotel, too, has everything, and is one of the finest in the Pacific.
`The Americans also erected a cable railway which passes over the town and across the water up to their Radio Station at the top of Rainmaker Mountain, which dominates the country for miles round. I went up it, and was scared out of my wits. We were warned that the car stops and changes gear about a hundred feet from the top; but not that it would wobble violently, then suddenly run backward for about a dozen yards. I felt certain it was about to crash and, as the Rainmaker is over seventeen hundred feet high, I would have been smashed to atoms at the bottom. But my scare proved worth it, as the view from the top is fabulous.'
Gregory sighed. `Why are we Europeans such fools as to spend our lives swarming like ants in hideous cities, when we might live in this South Sea paradise?'
With a smile James replied, `If only a tenth of you settled in the South Pacific in no time things here would be just as bad. Even without that, our golden age of happy isolation is already over. Increases in population, science and modernisation are putting an end to true leisure and simple pleasures. We, too, are doomed to become the victims of the rat race.'
`Yet you plan to foster that unhappy state of things. That is, if we get the Spanish gold. To mechanise your native industries, build a canning factory and so on, is bound to do so,
`The gold! Yes. My mind has been so occupied with the results of my folly in Noumea that I had almost forgotten about it. I fear, though, that by now either Lacost will have made off with it illegally or de Carvalho will have divers at work salvaging it. In any case, the latter holds the licence, so it will not be easy to contest his rights. I shall, though. The Maria Amalia went down long before the French became the masters here. In the name of my ancestors who ruled here then, I mean to claim it.
`But you are right, of course, that the true welfare of my people and my plans for them conflict. Yet how can I stand by and watch them being exploited by the rising tide of Indians? Modernisation will come here anyhow. At least it will be better for them if I can succeed in controlling it on their behalf.'
As they turned to enter the bure, an old, half blind man who appeared to be dozing on the doorstep suddenly saw them, stood up and went down on his knees. James spoke to him and said to Gregory, `This is Sukuna. He has been our doorkeeper for longer than any of us can remember. In his youth people were still eating human flesh. I will send him for Kalabo, my head servant. We will have a bath while he has breakfast prepared for us.'
`By that I suppose you mean a shower?'
`You hate them, don't you?' James chuckled. 'But your luck is in. You seem to have forgotten that I was educated in the British manner. 1, too, love to relax and lie soaking; so, when I succeeded my father I had three baths installed here.'
The interior of the bure was very similar to that of Manon's, except that it was much larger, the patterned designs of woven bamboo on the walls more intricate, and that on the great tapa covered beams were imposed whole rows of precious whale teeth and the white cowrie shells that, by tradition, only Royalty is permitted to use for decoration.
Kalabo came in and made smiling obeisance. He was a huge man, as tall as and much broader than his Ratu, with a pouffe of black hair that must have measured close on eighteen inches from side to side. James spoke rapidly to him in the sing song native tongue, then told Gregory:
`I have ordered him to send four of my men to guard the
Frenchmen and give them food. It will be quite unnecessary to remove them from the hangar, at least until our next weekly aircraft is due in, and that will not be for the next three days. Kalabo will also send his aunt down to the telegraph office. She is the mother of the operator there and, should a message come in from General Ribaud, we shall know its contents long before it reaches the Resident:
Gregory did not even think of questioning the decision to leave the two Frenchmen in the hangar. Since they had arrived at the bure, James seemed to have become a different person. Although he was still in the travel stained Western suit that he had worn for over two months, he had acquired an air of immense dignity. Even his movements and the tone of his voice had altered. About him there was an aura of complete self assurance and unchallengeable authority.
In a bedroom bure to which another servant shortly afterwards conducted Gregory he found laid out for him a set of native clothes, and, in the adjacent bathroom, a safety razor, clean hairbrushes and everything else he might need. He lay for a long time in a tepid bath, then dressed. The colourful shirt, evidently one of James', was much too large for him; but the sulu, a form of kilt, was easily adjustable.
Having had to make do for many weeks on monotonous prison fare, they tremendously enjoyed an enormous breakfast. While they ate, James told Gregory that, at least concerning the gold, their luck was in. Contrary to expectations, despite their having been out of action for two months, no attempt to salvage it had so far been made. Through his servants James had obtained the following information.
The professional diver Hamie Baker, who had been engaged by Gregory in Fiji, had arrived with his salvaging apparatus in the second week of February. He had put up at the Bonne Cuisine, a guest house down on the harbour, and had remained there ever since, evidently awaiting instructions. Another professional diver, named Philip Macauta, bringing salvaging equipment from Tahiti, had arrived shortly after Baker and had also taken a room at the Bonne Cuisine.