Chapter 16 head price

Christopher, Alexander.Panet's property is not much, and it only has his name and a cotton suit.Panett always kept his clothes intact as carefully as he protected his name, because he wore them during the day and used them as a bedroom at night, and all Panet had left was his alcoholism and a Red-Red bearded.But he still has a friend.These days, few people, not even in friendly Polynesia, win friendship unless they have some distinctive quality.Strong, humorous, or evil, anyway, a person must have something special to be recognized by his friends, remember how to explain the coolie Kalaika on the merchant ship, the native who asked nothing for Panet take care of it?This is one of the mysteries of Fufuti Beach.

In Fufuti, Panet is a man who doesn't fight with the world. He doesn't quarrel with others, and he doesn't fight with others.Apparently he never realized that a white man's feet had the power to kick a native aside at any time.Panett hadn't even scolded anyone but himself and the Chinese half-breed who sold him candy that was too bad to eat. Apart from these, Panet has no obvious advantages.He had long forgotten how hot his blood felt, not even begging him.He didn't laugh, he didn't dance, and he never showed even a simple eccentricity that would allow one to show a little tolerance for a drunk.This Panet would have been beaten a lot in any other part of the world, but fate had sent him adrift to this beach where life was as easy as singing, and his strange fate had even given him a friend.So he sang drunk every day.He did nothing but that, and looked like a soggy pile of meat soaked in alcohol.

His friend Kaleka is a pagan from the Bougville Islands. In his hometown, there is a custom of cannibalism. Sometimes the corpses are smoked and stored for future needs. But in Fufuti, despite being a black Melanesian, Kaleka was just like anyone else.He is serious, capable, short, with deep-set eyes; he has brush-like hair, a cotton turban around his waist, a copper ring on his nose, and he is usually expressionless. The chief of Kaleka got him to the trading company in Fufuti, signed him a three-year contract, and ate his wages, bread, and tobacco.Three years later, Kalika would be sent back to Bougville, eight hundred miles away, still with nothing.The locals all came here like this, but Kalaika may also have some plans of his own.

Negroes of the South Pacific displayed few respectable qualities.Loyalty and humility can only come from those whose skin color is between yellow and chocolate, and black people are always so mysterious and elusive.Calaca took the penniless Panett as his friend, which surprised the people in Fauforti, who thought they knew something about these niggers. "Hey, you," cried Mo Jack, the Chinese half-breed, "you'd better get the redneck off, he's drunk again." Kalaika was waiting in the shadow of the copra hut to pick up the fallen copra.He stood up and ran towards the beach with the coconut meat under his arm.

Mo Jack stood on the threshold and looked coldly, and said, "I said, why are you cheap that drunkard, sell me the pearls, and I'll give you a good price, how about it?" Mo Jack was always upset because he had to trade wine and Panette for those pearls, and then Panette would get drunk.And he knew that these pearls were fished out of the lagoon by Kaleka and handed over to Panet.His deal with Panett wasn't bad, but he figured he'd make more money if he traded tobacco directly with Calais. "What made you give the pearl to that bloody redneck?" Mo Jack asked threateningly. "He's worthless shit, and he's going to die sooner or later."

Kalaika didn't say anything, just stared at him.For a moment there was a strange light in his gray eyes, like a shark winking at you ten feet down in the ocean.Immediately the mulatto's tone changed to a murmur. Kalaika walked to his home, a small grass shed, with his friend on his back.He carefully put Panet on the mat, rested his head, and washed him in cold water to get the dirt off his head and beard.Panet's beard was a real whisker, reflecting the sun like bright copper.Kaleka combed this beard, then sat next to him, and used a fan to drive away the flies for the drunk man... At one o'clock after noon, Kaleka suddenly ran to the open space and looked up at the sky.He had been watching the weather for weeks, and he knew that some of the changes meant that the trade winds would grow stronger until they completely replaced the peaceful crosswinds.Now he saw patches of shadow obscuring the sand, and the sun was blocked by clouds.

The whole Fufudi is taking a nap, the waiter is snoring on the balcony; the business representative is dreaming in his hammock, and dreaming that heaps of coconut meat are shipped away, and then a lot of bonuses are flying to him; Mo. Jack is lying in his little shop.No one is crazy enough to run on a boat during a nap.No one, except Kalaika.The unruly black person never cared about naps or sweet dreams.He ran to and fro, the sound of his light footsteps drowned in the roar of the waves beating against the rocks. Like a silent ghost, busy with his work in Fufudi's dreamland. Kalaika found out two important things very early on, one was where the key to the storage room was kept, and the other was where the rifle and ammunition were kept.He opened the storage room and picked out three bolts of red Turkish cloth, some knives, two barrels of tobacco leaves, and a small axe.There are still many things to take, but Kalaika is not the kind of greedy person.

Then he hacked open the rifle cabinet with the axe and took a Winchester and a large box of ammunition.Then all Kalaika had to do was to chop through the bottoms of a big boat and two small canoes that were in the shed, so that they would be useless for many days.It was a good ax indeed, a real battle-axe, and its sharp edge gave Kareka a taste of the work. On the beach was a large canoe, of the type used by the Kaleka of the Bougville Islands, with its bow and stern raised high like a crescent moon.Last season's monsoons had blown it ashore, and by order of the trade representative himself, Karaika had it repaired.Now he took the boat out to sea and loaded it with his prize.

He chose his food carefully, including rice, sweet potatoes, and three large buckets of cocoa beans, as well as a large bucket of water and a box of biscuits.While searching the trade representative's cupboard, he saw twelve bottles of precious Irish brandy, and though he knew their value, he looked at them and didn't take them. When Mo Jack talked about it later, he remembered the gleam in Kaleka's eyes, and he asserted that no one could catch him alive, if anyone in the world could catch him. After getting everything ready, Kalaika returned to his little shed.Wake up Panet: "Come with me, man."

Mr. Panett sat up, gave him a look like a mental patient seeing a vision in his own head, and said, "It's too late, the shops are closed. I said, tell those bastards good night, I'm going to , I'm going to bed." But he fell on the bed like a board again. "Wake up, wake up," Calaca kept shaking him, "Hey, don't sleep, wake up. Ah! Rum, here's your rum, really, rum." But Panet remained motionless, like a deaf man, unable to hear even the most effective incantation. Kaleka bent down and carried him on his shoulders like a big meat bag.Panet weighed a full two hundred and fifty pounds, and Calika less than a hundred pounds.But the little Negro picked him up deftly, let his feet shuffle, walked down to the beach, and put him in the boat.The canoe sank and left the shore of Fufu Causeway.

No one saw them leave, Fufuti was still asleep, and by the time the trade representative awoke from his nap, furious, they had long since disappeared into the trade wind. On the first day, Kalaika tried his best to keep the boat going against the wind. On the gray sea, the strong wind rolled up waves. As long as Kalaika was negligent, sea water would pour into the boat.Calaca was a pagan who didn't know the compass, let alone latitude and longitude, but his ancestors had completed the voyage by manpower and shallow boats. Their achievements made Columbus's voyage look like a ferry trip.Now he scooped water overboard with pots and kept sailing with mats and oars, but he was certainly on his way. It wasn't until sunrise the next day that Panet raised his head from the sewage at the bottom of the boat, but he only looked around and lay down again moaning.After stopping for a while, he tried again, but it was in vain, so he turned his head and saw Kaleka squatting at the stern, covered in sea water. "Wine!" he cried. Kaleka shook his head, and Panet's eyes began to flash eagerly: "Give me wine, give me some wine, just a little," he continued to beg... For the next two days, he remained insane like this Qing kept talking to himself about how the same ship changed forty-seven ways of sailing in one minute, and that this was his great discovery, and that there would be a revolution in the history of navigation... until the third day he I woke up a little bit, my stomach was empty, my body was weak, but my spirit was not bad.At this time, the wind had subsided, and Kalaika was quietly preparing to eat.Panet poured himself two glasses of brandy before realizing he had cocoa milk in his throat and cried again: "I love rum, no, give me rum." No one answered him, he looked around, but there was nothing but a long horizontal line, he finally felt something was wrong and asked, "Why am I here?" "The wind," said Karika, "the wind brought us here." Panett hadn't listened to him, nor had he noticed that they hadn't been lost fishing when they'd been blown here. His mind was thinking of something else, something pink, purple, rainbow-striped and gaudy, and he had a lot of fun with it. It is not easy to completely separate a person who has been soaked in wine for two full years from alcohol. The sea became calm and the boat glided briskly.Panet's hands and feet were tied to the planks of the boat, so he kept moving his mouth, reciting poems he learned as a child.It's a pity that there is only one card for the audience.He didn't care about the rhyme of the poem, but occasionally splashed seawater on Panet's head, or covered him with a mat to block the sun, or fed him a few mouthfuls of cocoa milk, and of course, combed his beard twice a day. They sailed peacefully, but the trade winds were getting stronger and the ship was slowing down, and Karaika had to risk sailing eastward.At this time, Panet's face gradually began to return to its normal color and no longer looked like rotten seaweed. Land on some small islands whenever you get a chance and cook some rice and potatoes in a pot, but it's dangerous.Once they were stopped by two white men in a skiff. Calaca had no time to hide the traces of the fugitive slaves. .One of the opponents was killed, and their ship was sunk. "I've got a bullet hole on my side, you'd better plug it," Panette called. Kareka undid his rope and plugged the bullet hole.Panet stretched his arms, looking around curiously. "It's real, you're not a phantom." Panet stared at Calekka and said, "I said, you're real, not a phantom. It seems that I'm much better." After a pause, he asked again, "Where are you taking me?" "Barbie." Kalaika replied. This is the native language name of Bogweiler. Panet whistled. Eight hundred miles in a boat like this without a roof was no easy feat.He couldn't help admiring Kalaika, this little black man was really capable. "So Barbie's your home now?" Nate asked. "Yes." " "Well, Captain," Panett said, "go ahead, I don't know why you brought me here, but I think I'll find out." Panet was weak at first, but Calaca's cocoa beans and sweet potatoes began to restore his strength and sanity.Later, he tasted the salty taste of the sea water and could completely forget about wine for several hours.And strangely, as the alcohol wore off in his body, so did Fauti's experience.These were really two queer sailors, one native and the other a convalescing patient, but they got along pretty well. During the third week, Panet noticed that Kaleka hadn't eaten all day and they ran out of food. "Hey, it can't be like that," he cried, "You gave me the last bit of cocoa too, you gotta save some for yourself." " "I don't like to eat." Kalaika replied simply. Between the sky and the sea, there is only the sound of sea water beating against the bottom of the ship and the planks of the ship.Panet sat motionless for hours, thinking about many things, his eyebrows sometimes knit together in pain.Indeed, thinking is not always a good companion on a journey, and memories that are pulled back are especially not so pleasant.But now Panet has to recall his absurd past. He wants to escape from them again and again, but now he feels that there is nowhere to escape. He thinks he can only face the past and knock them down. On the twenty-ninth day, all they ate was a little water.Kaleka scooped up the water with cocoa shells and asked Panet to drink it.Now the heretic took up the responsibility of caring for Panet again, until he scraped the last of the water off the staves onto the blade and dripped down Panet's throat. On the thirty-sixth day they saw the Isle of Russel, rising from the horizon like a green wall.Calaca could breathe a sigh of relief. He had sailed a full six hundred miles in a ship with little nautical equipment, not even a chart.It was indeed a remarkable achievement, but they didn't stay long, and soon they set off again. The wind was fine in the morning, but it died down by noon.The sea became as thick as oil, the air was stuffy, and Kaleka knew a storm was coming, but he had no choice but to go on. go ahead.He tied everything to the boat and concentrated on paddling.Before long he saw a small island with a white sandy beach ahead.At last, with two miles to go to the island, the storm came, but they were lucky nonetheless. At this time, Kaleka was only skin and bones, Panet could barely lift his arms, and the waves were like flames emerging from the reef, hitting their boat one after another endlessly.No one knows how Kalaika did it, but he finally landed. Anyway, it seemed to be fate, the white man must be rescued by him again and again, until finally he brought Panet back to the shore.They were nearly fainted when they came ashore, but they were still alive, and Kaleka had been clinging to his white friend by the hem of his coat. They stayed on this island for a week.Panet fattened himself on the island's endless supply of cocoa beans. Karika is repairing his ship.The ship was badly flooded, but his cargo was intact, and what was more, their ordeal was coming to an end, with the island of Gevelle, Kaleka's hometown, just across the strait. "Where's Barbie?" Panett asked. "Not bad." Kalaika replied. "My God! That's great," cried Pannett. "This is the end of the British Empire. That's all they can do, old man. They can't get past it." Kaleka is well aware of this too, and if there is one thing in the world that scares him, it is the magistrate of the Fiji High Court who has the authority to take action against any violation of the law. On this side of the Channel, Calaca would still be prosecuted for theft, but so far, Calaca knew that on Bagwell Island he could do anything he wanted with impunity. As for Christopher Alexander Panet, his body slowly recovered and was washed clean, even the evil things in his soul were washed away.The moist air and warm sun rejuvenated him, giving him the strength to swim in the water or help Kalaika with boat repairs.When he was free, he spent hours digging a hole in the sand, or admiring the odd patterns of tiny sea shells, or wandering the beach singing, enjoying the loveliness of life that he had rarely noticed before. The only thing that always confuses him is Kaleka, but that doesn't bother him much, and he laughs it off like a child.What he thought of was not knowing how to repay what Kalaika had done for him.Finally, Panet began to wonder why Karika had brought him here.For friendship?It must be so.Thinking of this, Panet turned his head to the quiet little man. "Hey, Kalaika, are you afraid that they will sue you for stealing? Just ignore them. You old guy. If they dare to trouble you, I will definitely fight with them, and I can even tell them that I stole the things .” Kalaika didn't answer, just buried his head in cleaning his rifle, as quiet as a born mute. "No, he didn't hear," Panett muttered. "I wonder what's going on in your head. Old man, you're walking around like a cat. God proves I'm not an ungrateful fellow, I guess -" He jumped up suddenly. "Kalaika, you brought me because you were afraid that you would hurt me by running away, and because you were afraid that a slave would hurt his friends by running away, is that so? Is that so?" "Hmm." Kaleka answered vaguely, glanced at Panet, then at the opposite island of Bokaville, then lowered his head and continued to wipe his gun.What a mysterious island native. Two days later they reached Boucavelle Island. In the gorgeous morning glow, their boat sailed into a small bay, and the island was still sleeping, breathing slowly.Panet jumped off the boat and ran onto a big rock. Looking at the magnificent scenery in front of him, he felt that it was indescribably beautiful.At this time, the little Kalaika was doing his own business in an orderly manner.He unloaded the cloth, the knife, and the tobacco, then the cartridge case, the rifle, and his hatchet.The things were slightly damp, but all the weapons were polished and gleamed in the morning sun. Panett was still babbling on, trying to describe what he saw, until the sound of footsteps stopped behind him.He turned and was surprised to see Kaleka standing behind him with a gun and an ax behind his back. "Hey!" Panett exclaimed cheerfully, "what do you want, old man?" "I think," Kaleka said slowly, with that odd gleam in Mo Jack's eye again—like a shark winking at you—"I want your head." "What? A head? Whose? Mine?" "Yes." Kalaika said briefly. That is what it is, and that is the answer to all mysteries.The native was fascinated by the bum's head.Christopher Alexander Panet was betrayed by his own red beard.In Kaleka's hometown, a white man's head, a smoked head, is a wealth that is more enviable than money, land, the honor of the chief and the love of a girl.So the native made a plan, waited patiently, used various methods, even looked after the white man like a babysitter, fed him, and combed his beard.All he has done is to bring Panet here in safety and health, and then pick the fruits of his victory safely and calmly. Panett quickly understood what was going on before and after, and it was so startling that few white people had ever thought of it.But he's now sober about what's going on.No one knew what Panet was thinking, and he suddenly burst into laughter.Laughter comes from deep in the human chest, like their owner has just heard a big joke. Laughter cut through the sound of the rumbling waves, startling the seabirds from their loneliness on the cliffs, and flying around the sun for a long time Finally, the corrected property list of Christopher Alexander Panet is: name, rags Bad clothes, a beautiful red beard, and a soul, restored to health and rejuvenated by the help of his only friend. Christopher Alexander Panett turned and said, "Shoot it, damn it. That's a cheap head."