The World Duology (World Odyssey / Fiji: A Novel) (46 page)

4

N
athan walked directly behind Joeli as the young ratu led the raiding party through kauri forests en route to Mist Mountain and, theoretically at least, to the outcasts’ hideout beyond it.

A colorful, squawking parrot perched in the branches of a towering Fijian kauri tree above them caught Joeli’s attention. He stopped to study it. Nathan hovered impatiently at Joeli’s shoulder, as if urging him to keep moving. It took the American a moment to realize the parrot’s squawks could be a sign that Joeli had picked up on.

Watching Joeli study the parrot reminded Nathan of similar experiences he’d had hunting with members of the Ohlone tribe back in San Francisco. Like the Qopa, the Ohlone were at one with nature. While he’d once looked on them—and indeed all native peoples—as inferior to whites, he’d always admired their ability to read the signs of nature. Joeli, in particular, seemed to have a special ability. Generation upon generation of Qopa wilderness intelligence had been handed down to the young ratu. As was the case with all Fijians, it was in his blood and so instinctive he was hardly conscious of it. From the moment he’d learned to walk, he’d been taught how to read nature’s signs. Now, studying the parrot, he knew something wasn’t right.

Joeli had immediately identified the bird as a red shining parrot. Its crimson-red plumage had given its breed away instantly as had its distinctive squawk. The fact that it was squawking at all alerted Joeli to the fact something was wrong. He knew the red shining parrot normally didn’t draw attention to itself when people were in the vicinity—as if aware its bright plumage already made it a target for the hunter’s spear. The fact that it was squawking now put him on high alert.

Moments later, it came as no surprise to Joeli when one of his trackers, Rewa, appeared, running as fast as his long legs could carry him. Joeli hurried forward to meet him.

Breathing hard, Rewa pointed back the way he’d come. “Outcasts!” he gasped.

Concerned, Joeli asked, “Did they see you?” Rewa shook his head, indicating they hadn’t.

“Where is Penaia?” the ratu asked of the other tracker.

“He stayed to observe them. They are setting up camp.”

“How many?”

“I counted ten men.”

“Is Rambuka with them?”

“No, but they have two prisoners. One is a White-Face.”

“The Englishwoman?”

“A man,” Rewa said, shaking his head. “He looks familiar.”

Listening to the conversation, Nathan knew something was up. Not for the first time, he wished he could speak Fijian. Joeli flashed hand signals to his warriors, indicating there was danger ahead. They immediately fell into single file behind him, muskets at the ready. Nathan joined them. The ratu then nodded to Rewa, who immediately struck off toward the outcasts’ campsite.

A few moments later, the other tracker, Penaia, materialized out of the forest. He pointed behind him, indicating the outcasts’ campsite was close by. At the same time, men’s laughter could be heard coming from the site. The smell of smoke was in the air, too.

Joeli and the others crept forward to observe their enemies. Following close behind, Nathan stood on the branch of a fern, rustling its leaves. The others looked back at him, glaring. When they were satisfied their enemies hadn’t heard anything, they resumed inching forward.

Soon, the campsite came into view. From the cover of trees and dense undergrowth, Nathan quickly identified the men as outcasts. With bones and sticks inserted through apertures in their ears and noses, their primitive appearance made them instantly identifiable.

Nathan immediately thought of Susannah and wondered if Rambuka had brought her here. His eyes swept the campsite, searching for a sign of her. He could see the outcasts had begun roasting the carcass of some animal over a fire. Nathan assumed it was a wild pig as several other pig carcasses lay nearby—obviously the result of a successful hunt.

The outcasts were in jovial mood, joking around. Their muskets were stacked nearby, but they were obviously not expecting trouble as no guards appeared to have been posted.

Something caught Nathan’s eye.

White skin!

He realized there was a European tied up next to the pig carcasses.

Please let it be Susannah.

Whoever it was, he’d missed seeing her, or him, earlier because an outcast had been standing in his line of sight. Now that the outcast had moved, Nathan had a clear view. Crushing disappointment set in when he realized it was a man. Short and stocky, the curly haired man looked to be in his early thirties. Another outcast stood in front of the man, blocking Nathan’s view.

Looking over at Joeli, Nathan wondered if he and the others had seen the white captive. He noticed their attention seemed to be focused on something else. Nathan looked closer at the carcass the outcasts were roasting over the fire.

Jesus!

He suddenly realized it wasn’t a pig they were roasting: it was a man.

Nathan looked back for another glimpse of the white man. The outcast who had been blocking his view conveniently moved, allowing him to observe the white captive more closely.

The man was Jack Halliday, a Cockney who had gained a reputation for himself as something of a legend up and down Fiji’s Coral Coast. Shorter than average and not especially good looking, the curly haired Cockney nevertheless had a mischievous face which generally endeared him to all he came into contact with. Not on this occasion, however. In his current perilous position, he was feeling anything other than mischievous. His perceptive green eyes looked around desperately, and his mind was in turmoil as he processed his helpless situation.

Formerly a convict who had served time in New South Wales, in the fledgling British colony of Australia, Jack had escaped by stowing away on a Fiji-bound ship. After jumping ship and swimming ashore when the ship neared the village of Koroi, on the Coral Coast, he’d been adopted by the local villagers. That had been seven years ago.

In the intervening years, Jack had ended up marrying a Fijian maiden of royal blood and having children by her. Having a village headman as his father-in-law gave him a certain status. This status was enhanced after Jack’s heroics saved the village from certain defeat when attacked by an enemy clan.

Never one to waste an opportunity, Jack had set about starting up a trading business, taking advantage of the opportunities presented by the sandalwood traders who frequented Fijian waters. Initially, he’d acted as an interpreter and a go-between, between the traders and the Fijians; later, he negotiated directly with the Fijians, buying the cutting rights to their coastal sandalwood plantations and selling those rights to the traders for profit. As one profitable venture followed another, Jack acquired a small arsenal of muskets, which he donated to the village that had adopted him. This further endeared him to the villagers, and he now enjoyed almost equal status to their ratu.

It wasn’t only as a successful trader and provider that Jack Halliday had a reputation for: he was well known up and down the Coral Coast, and on many of the outlying islands, as a womanizer without peer. Although happily married, he took advantage of his frequent excursions away to bed the many village maidens who were only too pleased to give themselves to him. Jack wasn’t fussed whether his concubines were single or married; as a result, he was offside with many angry husbands.

In recent months, the bottom had fallen out of the sandalwood trade as the once-precious sandalwood plantations had been all but wiped out by greedy Fijian landowners and even greedier European traders. As a result, Jack had turned his attention to securing cutting rights to the forests of Fijian kauri that were so prolific in Viti Levu’s interior. It was this new venture that had seen him end up in his current predicament.

Jack and his Fijian guide had been captured earlier that morning while mapping the kauri forests located within the territory the Cockney had recently acquired cutting rights for. The day had started out like any other for Jack. Having enjoyed a night of lust with yet another Fijian woman at a local village, he and his guide had struck out early aboard his horse-drawn cart for the western boundary of the forested area he had cutting rights to. When the terrain had become too rugged for the horses, he and his guide had left them tethered and continued on foot. An hour later, they’d literally stumbled into the outcasts’ campsite—apparently just in time to feature on the day’s menu.

The outcasts had killed Jack’s guide immediately, but had spared the Cockney for the moment. Trussed up like a turkey, Jack could only watch while his captors had made a human skewer out of his guide and proceeded to cook him over the fire. He’d been left in no doubt his captors were cannibals—and he was in no doubt he’d also be eaten before the day was out.

Now, watching his former guide’s flesh melting in the flames that crackled not ten feet away, Jack asked himself what he’d done to deserve this fate.

Looking on from the cover of the trees, Nathan wondered what circumstances had
brought the white man to this isolated corner of the world. He was suddenly anxious to talk to the man to learn if he’d seen Susannah or at least had any news of her. Inching forward, he squeezed between Joeli and Waisale. They were debating whether to ambush the outcasts and kill them or give them a wide berth and hope they could reach their destination without being detected.

Waisale favored the latter option. “If we fail to kill them all, the survivors would warn Rambuka we are coming,” he whispered.

“He already knows . . . and if we try to go around them, they could find our tracks later,” Joeli argued, “or we could still run into them on our return from Tomanivi.”

Unable to follow the conversation, but anxious to express his opinion, Nathan said, “If we don’t deal with this now, we’ll probably have to deal with it on the way back. I say we hit ’em hard.”

Joeli looked at Nathan for several long moments before making up his mind. Turning to Waisale, he said, “We attack now.”

Waisale nodded and circulated among the others, relaying the ratu’s orders. Nathan could see the Qopa were excited by the prospect of killing their enemies. The warriors knew what to do; they immediately disappeared into the surrounding trees and proceeded to encircle the campsite.

Nathan and Waisale stayed close to Joeli. Holding their weapons out in front of them, they began crawling on their bellies through the undergrowth to get closer to their enemies.

The American prayed the ambush would succeed. He knew if even one outcast escaped, Rambuka would be ready and waiting when they reached his hideout—
if
they ever found his hideout. The only chance they had of rescuing Susannah was to keep the element of surprise, he thought.

As they crawled closer, they were able to see all the outcasts and could hear their
voices clearly. Nathan now had a clear view of the white captive. Apart from bruises and a split lip, he seemed okay. At one stage, the man’s bright green eyes seemed to be looking directly at him.

Crawling closer still, Nathan and his two companions froze as a young outcast walked toward them. Intent on relieving himself, the outcast stopped not a dozen paces from them and proceeded to urinate. As he did so, he tensed as if he’d seen something close to where the three men were hiding. Finishing his business, he drew out a tomahawk from his waistband and came to investigate. Behind him, none of the other outcasts noticed anything amiss.

As soon as the young outcast drew near, Joeli jumped to his feet and threw his own tomahawk at him. The weapon’s blade lodged in the outcast’s head, felling him. Joeli immediately dropped to the ground. He and the other two collectively held their breath, waiting for the alarm to be sounded. Miraculously, it never came. None of the other outcasts had witnessed the attack. They were too intent on preparing their meal.

But Jack had noticed. He’d been looking directly at the unlucky outcast just before Joeli had killed him. When the ratu had risen, seemingly straight up out of the earth, and thrown his tomahawk, Jack thought he must have been dreaming. It took a few moments to realize he wasn’t.

It really happened!

For the first time since being captured, he sensed a glimmer of hope.

Joeli crawled forward and retrieved his tomahawk. Cries of alarm suddenly rang out. Joeli thought he’d been seen. In fact, the outcasts had seen a Qopa warrior on the other side of the campsite.

The Qopa simultaneously opened fire on all sides. So woeful was their aim that, even at near-point-blank range, only two shots found their targets.

Nathan was responsible for another two kills. Pausing to reload his musket, he felt the wind of a wayward musket ball as it all but parted his hair. Looking up, he saw he’d nearly been shot by friendly fire. The culprit, one of Joeli’s trackers, flashed Nathan a guilty smile.

Fortunately, Joeli’s
warriors were close enough to dispatch their enemies by more traditional means, making good use of the clubs and tomahawks most of them also carried. As usual, Joeli led the way, wielding his tomahawk and massive club with devastating results.

Realizing they were outnumbered, the last two surviving outcasts made a run for it. Nathan managed to shoot one down, but the other one reached the cover of the trees unscathed. “Damn it!” Nathan cursed.