Just saying door bells

Sunday, May 12, 2013

Nothing for him to do but gather strength. Joan had taken the cook in hand, and for the first time, as Sheldon remarked, the chop at Berande was white man's chop. With her own hands Joan prepared the sick man's food, and between that and the cheer she brought him, he was able, after two days, to totter feebly out upon the veranda. The situation struck him as strange, and stranger still was the fact that it did not seem strange to the girl at all.

 

She had settled down and taken charge of the household as a matter of course, as if he were her father, or brother, or as if she were a man like himself. It is just too delightful for anything, she assured him. It is door bell intercom like a page out of some romance. Here I come along out of the sea and find a sick man all alone with two hundred slaves Recruits, he corrected. Contract labourers. They serve only three years, and they are free agents when they enter upon their contracts. Yes, yes, she hurried on.

 

A sick man alone with two hundred recruits on a cannibal island they are cannibals, aren't they? Or is it all talk? Talk! he said, with a smile. It's a trifle more than that. Most of my boys are from the bush, and every bushman is a cannibal. But not after they become recruits? Surely, the boys you have here wouldn't be guilty. They'd eat you if the chance afforded. Are you just saying door bells  

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