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Updated: June 26, 2025
When the latter saw his mate, with a rider, coming toward him he gave a whinney and dashed forward. In an instant Si had hold of his bridle and was turning back. His face was bright with triumph. Shorty stopped in the middle of a soul-curdling oath and yelled delightedly: "Bully for old Wabash! You're my pardner after all Si."
Almost as an echo, from afar off, came a thin-sweet answering whinney. "It is the Fotherington Princess," Paula breathed softly. Again Mountain Lad trumpeted his call, and Dick chanted: "Hear me! I am Eros! I stamp upon the hills!" And almost, for a flash of an instant, circled soft and close in his arms, Paula knew resentment of her husband's admiration for the splendid beast.
We tried to help him. While the Captain pointed his astrolabe sunward and announced the figures Whinney and I, like tailors' assistants, took them down, Whinney doing the adding, I the subtracting and Swank the charting. The results were confusion worse confounded. And then a dreadful thing happened. The compass-plant sickened and died.
Each girl, armed with a rifle, took the position assigned to her, and there was no more conversation for the next two hours, no sound other than that from the insect life and the occasional whinney of a pony. The minds of the Overlanders, however, were active.
In other words, should we hold ourselves aloof, live contrary to the customs of the country and mortally offend our hosts, to say nothing of our hostesses, or should we fulfil our destinies, take unto ourselves island brides and eat our equatorial fruit, core and all? For the purpose of discussion Whinney was designated to uphold the negative, and for an hour we argued the matter pro and con.
And then once more the vision of those deadly inroads of disease rose before me. "Whinney," I asked, "is there no cure for this awful thing? No antitoxin?" He shook his head sadly. "We have been studying it for years. The only hope is in their complete isolation. If we stay here ... and a second epidemic breaks out.... "; he shrugged hopelessly and Swank buried his face in the bilge-sponge.
He'd done his trick and there was an end of it. The next day he had William Henry Thomas busy re-rigging the Kawa. William Henry Thomas, by the way, insisted on living on board in happy but unholy wedlock, and Whinney, Swank and I felt that it was better so. Somehow we considered him the village scandal.
We could only look our astonishment. "Yes," continued the chief, smiling benignly, "first among you all is he to have his name recorded in our ancient fashion." As he pronounced these words Baahaabaa lifted his left foot solemnly and pointed to his own royal appellation tattooed on the sole. Our wives did likewise. "What is his name?" Whinney asked.
But of these later; for the nonce our tale leads landward. As our canvas scraped the shingle we leaped out, tossing the dory lightly beyond the reach of the waves, and fell into the agreed-upon formation. Triplett in the van, then Whinney, Swank and myself, in the order named. The nut noises became constantly more ominous and menacing, but still we saw no sign of human life.
Whinney attempted in vain to transplant specimens of this fragile creation to our old-world botanical gardens but found the conditions of modern plant life an insuperable barrier. Calm. Peace and sun! The beneficence of a warm, golden finger that reached gently through the port-hole and rested on my eye. What had happened? Oh yes. "Like a blackbird in the spring."
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