"Please, no whipping," Joan said in a low voice. "If whipping _is_
necessary, send them to Tulagi and let the Government do it. Give them
their choice between a fine or an official whipping."
Sheldon nodded and stood up, facing the blacks.
"Manonmie!" he called.
Manonmie stood forth and waited.
"You fella boy bad fella too much," Sheldon charged. "You steal 'm
plenty. You steal 'm one fella towel, one fella cane-knife, two-ten
fella cartridge. My word, plenty bad fella steal 'm you. Me cross along
you too much. S'pose you like 'm, me take 'm one fella pound along you
in big book. S'pose you no like 'm me take 'm one fella pound, then me
send you fella along Tulagi catch 'm one strong fella government
whipping. Plenty New Georgia boys, plenty Ysabel boys stop along jail
along Tulagi. Them fella no like Malaita boys little bit. My word, they
give 'm you strong fella whipping. What you say?"
"You take 'm one fella pound along me," was the answer.
And Manonmie, patently relieved, stepped back, while Sheldon entered the
fine in the plantation labour journal.
Boy after boy, he called the offenders out and gave them their choice;
and, boy by boy, each one elected to pay the fine imposed. Some fines
were as low as several shillings; while in the more serious cases, such
as thefts of guns and ammunition, the fines were correspondingly heavy.
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