His eyes, close
together and small, advertised cruelty and craftiness. A gee-string and
a cartridge-belt were all the clothes he wore. The carved pearl-shell
ornament that hung from nose to chin and impeded speech was purely
ornamental, as were the holes in his ears mere utilities for carrying
pipe and tobacco. His broken-fanged teeth were stained black by betel-
nut, the juice of which he spat upon the ground.
As he talked or listened, he made grimaces like a monkey. He said yes by
dropping his eyelids and thrusting his chin forward. He spoke with
childish arrogance strangely at variance with the subservient position he
occupied beneath the veranda. He, with his many followers, was lord and
master of Balesuna village. But the white man, without followers, was
lord and master of Berande--ay, and on occasion, single-handed, had made
himself lord and master of Balesuna village as well. Seelee did not like
to remember that episode. It had occurred in the course of learning the
nature of white men and of learning to abominate them. He had once been
guilty of sheltering three runaways from Berande. They had given him all
they possessed in return for the shelter and for promised aid in getting
away to Malaita. This had given him a glimpse of a profitable future, in
which his village would serve as the one depot on the underground railway
between Berande and Malaita.
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