Of course some are dead, some have
been killed, and there are others serving sentences at Tulagi. Very
little clearing did those first owners do, and less planting. It was war
all the time. They had one manager killed. One of the partners had his
shoulder slashed nearly off by a cane-knife. The other was speared on
two different occasions. Both were bullies, wherefore there was a streak
of cowardice in them, and in the end they had to give up. They were
chased away--literally chased away--by their own niggers. And along came
poor Hughie and me, two new chums, to take hold of that hard-bitten gang.
We did not know the situation, and we had bought Berande, and there was
nothing to do but hang on and muddle through somehow.
"At first we made the mistake of indiscreet kindness. We tried to rule
by persuasion and fair treatment. The niggers concluded that we were
afraid. I blush to think of what fools we were in those first days. We
were imposed on, and threatened and insulted; and we put up with it,
hoping our square-dealing would soon mend things. Instead of which
everything went from bad to worse. Then came the day when Hughie
reprimanded one of the boys and was nearly killed by the gang. The only
thing that saved him was the number on top of him, which enabled me to
reach the spot in time.
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