South Sea Tales | Page 6

It was at this time that both the OROHENA and the Hira, running in
close to the shore, began firing guns and signalling frantically. The
three men stepped outside in time to see the two schooners go hastily
about and head off shore, dropping mainsails and flying jibs on the run
in the teeth of the squall that heeled them far over on the whitened
water. Then the rain blotted them out.
"They'll be back after it's over," said Toriki. "We'd better be getting out

of here."
"I reckon the glass has fallen some more," said Captain Lynch.
He was a white-bearded sea-captain, too old for service, who had
learned that the only way to live on comfortable terms with his asthma
was on Hikueru. He went inside to look at the barometer.
"Great God!" they heard him exclaim, and rushed in to join him at
staring at a dial, which marked twenty-nine-twenty.
Again they came out, this time anxiously to consult sea and sky. The
squall had cleared away, but the sky remained overcast. The two
schooners, under all sail and joined by a third, could be seen making
back. A veer in the wind induced them to slack off sheets, and five
minutes afterward a sudden veer from the opposite quarter caught all
three schooners aback, and those on shore could see the boom-tackles
being slacked away or cast off on the jump. The sound of the surf was
loud, hollow, and menacing, and a heavy swell was setting in. A
terrible sheet of lightning burst before their eyes, illuminating the dark
day, and the thunder rolled wildly about them.
Toriki and Levy broke into a run for their boats, the latter ambling
along like a panic-stricken hippopotamus. As their two boats swept out
the entrance, they passed the boat of the Aorai coming in. In the stern
sheets, encouraging the rowers, was Raoul. Unable to shake the vision
of the pearl from his mind, he was returning to accept Mapuhi's price of
a house.
He landed on the beach in the midst of a driving thunder squall that was
so dense that he collided with Huru-Huru before he saw him.
"Too late," yelled Huru-Huru. "Mapuhi sold it to Toriki for fourteen
hundred Chili, and Toriki sold it to Levy for twenty-five thousand
francs. And Levy will sell it in France for a hundred thousand francs.
Have you any tobacco?"
Raoul felt relieved. His troubles about the pearl were over. He need not

worry any more, even if he had not got the pearl. But he did not believe
Huru-Huru. Mapuhi might well have sold it for fourteen hundred Chili,
but that Levy, who knew pearls, should have paid twenty-five thousand
francs was too wide a stretch. Raoul decided to interview Captain
Lynch on the subject, but when he arrived at that ancient mariner's
house, he found him looking wide-eyed at the barometer.
"What do you read it?" Captain Lynch asked anxiously, rubbing his
spectables and staring again at the instrument.
"Twenty-nine-ten," said Raoul. "I have never seen it so low before."
"I should say not!" snorted the captain. "Fifty years boy and man on all
the seas, and I've never seen it go down to that. Listen!"
They stood for a moment, while the surf rumbled and shook the house.
Then they went outside. The squall had passed. They could see the
Aorai lying becalmed a mile away and pitching and tossing madly in
the tremendous seas that rolled in stately procession down out of the
northeast and flung themselves furiously upon the coral shore. One of
the sailors from the boat pointed at the mouth of the passage and shook
his head. Raoul looked and saw a white anarchy of foam and surge.
"I guess I'll stay with you tonight, Captain," he said; then turned to the
sailor and told him to haul the boat out and to find shelter for himself
and fellows.
"Twenty-nine flat," Captain Lynch reported, coming out from another
look at the barometer, a chair in his hand.
He sat down and stared at the spectacle of the sea. The sun came out,
increasing the sultriness of the day, while the dead calm still held. The
seas continued to increase in magnitude.
"What makes that sea is what gets me," Raoul muttered petulantly.
"There is no wind, yet look at it, look at that fellow there!"

Miles in length, carrying tens of thousands of tons in weight, its impact
shook the frail atoll like an earthquake. Captain Lynch was startled.
"Gracious!" he bellowed, half rising from his chair, then sinking back.
"But there is no wind," Raoul persisted. "I could understand it if there
was wind along with it."
"You'll get the wind soon enough without worryin' for it," was the grim
reply.
The two