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First came Smith with Schwankmacher on his right and Schwab on his left; then a crowd of the German population, in which wealthy merchants found themselves neighbours to grimy stokers, and youthful clerks to the inevitable uniforms; the tail was formed of swarthy Samoans, men and women, skipping boys and laughing girls with flowers in their hair.
"Ve shall lose no time, sir," he added. "Zis is ze most amazing zink zat efer haf I heard, and I esteem it great honour to haf ze opportunity to introduce you to ze excellent firma vat supply you viz petrol for your so vonderful machine. Vun minute until I tell Herr Schwankmacher, zen ve go doublequick."
"My friend, sir," the second man went on, "is vat you call chippy because you come plomp into his bed of cabbage, very fine vegetable, vich remind him of his youthful days in ze ever-to-beloved Homeland." "Oh, well," said Smith, "assure him that I am very sorry. I didn't mean to hurt his cabbages, and I'll pay for any damage that I've done." "Was sagt er?" said Herr Schwankmacher suspiciously.
All was at last ready for the start; Schwab, who alone of the company had knowledge of the conditions, made himself useful in clearing the course; and Schwankmacher positively declined to accept payment for the plants which had been crushed under the aeroplane, and those which were trampled by the spectators' feet. When the airmen were in their places, Schwab limped up.
Herr Schwankmacher sprang to his feet with a nimbleness surprising in a man of his size, and rushed forward, snorting with rage and indignation. His friend followed, neither indignant nor enraged, but very much interested in the occurrence. His intelligent eyes gleamed behind his glasses; he had himself experienced aerial adventures.
Smith, joining him, addressed Herr Schwankmacher in English, but his intervention seemed only to add fuel to the flames. The German knew no English; neither Smith nor Rodier knew German; and the affair promised to come to a deadlock. But here a peacemaker stepped in. Herr Schwankmacher's friend, who appeared to be greatly amused, stepped forward with a noticeable limp.
His friend translated Smith's words. Schwankmacher grunted. "The fact is," continued Smith, "we've run short of petrol, and I had to come down. I hoped to make Apia; that is it, yonder, I suppose?" "Zat is so. You vant petrol. Zen I introduce you to excellent firma vat supply ze Commandant.
"Gentlemen, gentlemen, zis is not business. Permit me, sir," he said to Smith. He took Herr Schwankmacher by the arm, and spoke a few words to him; upon which the German consented to be silent and in dudgeon resumed his pipe.
For some time he reclined thus, dropping a word now and then to his companion, answering his questions, but always returning to the cabbages. As they lay in this placidity and ease they were suddenly aware of a slight buzzing in the air. Herr Schwankmacher raised himself on his elbow, and looked around for the insect that had dared to intrude into this peaceful cabbage-patch.
A little before twelve on Monday, Herr Rudolph Schwankmacher, one of the most respected residents of Apia, capital of Samoa, was reclining under the shade of a plantain in his garden beyond the promontory of Mulinuu, enjoying the conversation of a friend and the refreshing bitterness of a bottle of light lager beer.
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