Dennis Wheatley - The White Witch of the South Seas

The trek took the best part of an hour. It was by then a little before nine o'clock, and the moon, halfway through its first quarter, stood at about thirty degrees above the horizon. By the light it gave, any sentinel on the island could not have failed to see a flotilla of boats creeping along the coast. But the island at its nearest point to the mainland was only a quarter of a mile off shore; so it was decided that Aleamotu'a should march the body guard along the beach to that point, then, if they were needed, they could within ten minutes wade across the shallow channel.

In consequence, when they reached the village, they took only two boats: a dinghy with an outboard engine, in which James set off steered by his coxswain, and a low lying, one man canoe for Gregory. For the first half mile the dinghy towed the canoe, then dropped it off; so that, should there be a reception party expecting James to arrive, Gregory, paddling himself and arriving several minutes later, would stand the best chance of landing. unobserved, while James was being escorted up to Roboumo's bure.

This plan worked admirably. The light was insufficient for Gregory actually to see James land at that distance, but the sound of voices coming clearly across the water in the quiet of the night told him that some of Roboumo's men had been waiting there to greet him. As the voices faded, Gregory altered course a little, then beached his canoe about two hundred yards from the place where the coxswain had landed James and was lying off until he returned.

The white coral beach extended inland for only some fifty feet. Darting across the open space at a crouching run, Gregory swiftly gained the shelter of a group of palms that cast dark shadows. Had his canoe been seen before he landed, it would have been taken for that of a native fisherman on his way further out to sea to spear fish attracted by the light of a torch, so his only real hazard had been that he might be spotted while crossing the beach. But no challenge had rung out. Considerably relieved, he now moved cautiously through the screen of palms and light undergrowth, working his way round until he came upon the path that led up to a group of bures.

The previous night the gendarme in Gregory's boat had been killed; so he had quietly `naturalised' the man's Sten gun and two tear gas grenades. Now, he switched the safety catch off the weapon, so that he could use it instantly, and proceeded with even greater caution up the path, keeping well into the shadowed side of it.

Two hundred yards brought him within sight of the nearest bure, which lay on the far side of a vegetable garden. Moving off the path, and stooping now, he crept stealthily from bush to bush until he could get a view of a good part of the village. It consisted, he guessed, of about thirty bures, with the tall roof of one, obviously Roboumo's, rising high above the others.

Normally, at this hour the inhabitants would have been asleep, but, although he could not see anyone, the low murmur of voices and an occasional laugh told him that there were people about. Selecting a position that gave him the best available field of fire into the village entrance, he settled down to await either James' emergence or sounds of trouble.

He had reasoned that, if Roboumo did intend treachery, it was most unlikely that James would be set upon when entering the village, as his coxswain might have heard sounds of a struggle and made off to give the alarm. It seemed certain that there would be a yaggona drinking ceremony and there was just the possibility that the witch doctor might use that as a means of either poisoning or drugging James, taking it for granted that he would follow traditional custom and gulp down the whole contents of the cup. But James had a lifetime's familiarity with the drink, so he would almost certainly detect a different flavour the moment the first drop touched his tongue, and when he and Gregory had discussed this possibility he had promised to be on his guard. Endeavouring to think as Roboumo might, Gregory had decided that the most likely way he would attempt to rid himself of James was by some apparent accident after James had left his bure perhaps by one of his men pretending to trip and at the same time shooting James in the back so that afterwards any suggestion that he had been murdered could be disclaimed.

On the other hand, Gregory acknowledged to himself that his fears for James quite probably had no foundation. Clearly Roboumo's paramount interest was to retain the hold that he had over the many Tujoans who feared his evil powers; and, should James meet his death on the island, even apparently through an accident, that might lead to his people's summoning up the courage to put an end to Roboumo and his following of bad men.

Making due allowance for the time the yaggona ceremony would take, and the usual prolonged palaver about irrelevant matters that normally preceded getting down to business when South Sea notabilities met, after half an hour Gregory became considerably more hopeful that James and Roboumo were really reaching agreement on a pact that, later that night, would bring about the death or capture of Lacost and his Colons.

Another ten minutes drifted by; then, suddenly, the silence of the night was broken by a loud shout.

Repressing the instinct to spring to his feet, Gregory remained crouching under cover, his Sten gun at the ready.

The shout was followed by a scream of rage and, immediately afterwards, by swift, violent banging on a drum. At these sounds, several men came running out from the small bures, some with arms and others without; so evidently the alarm had taken them by surprise.

A moment later, James appeared round the corner of a small bure that partially hid Roboumo's lofty one. In great bounds he dashed towards the path that led down to the shore. Two men ran forward to intercept him, a third, some feet to his left, raised a rifle to shoot him down.

Gregory's finger lightly squeezed the trigger of the Sten gun. Its bullets ploughed waist high into the man who held the rifle. With a single screech, he fell, riddled. His rifle flashed as it fell from his hands, but as he was hit he had jerked it up and the bullet passed high over James' head.

At the rat tat tat of Gregory's volley, it was as though the paralysing glance of an angry god had suddenly turned the villagers to stone. Their heads all turned in the direction of the shots, they remained for thirty seconds rigid and gaping.

James struck the nearer of the two men who had been about to intercept him a blow under the chin that sent him reeling, swerved past the other and ran on. Swiftly putting down his gun, Gregory pulled the pins out of his two tear gas grenades, one after the other, then lobbed them into the centre of the little group of natives.

At that moment Roboumo appeared, brandishing a great war club and screaming with rage. By then James was well past Gregory and round the bend of the path. Even as the witch doctor shouted to his men to give chase, the fumes from the bombs were catching them in the eyes and throat. Snatching up his gun, Gregory followed James, running all out for the shore.

Two minutes later they were wading out to the dinghy. The coxswain already had the outboard motor going. As they scrambled aboard and the boat turned towards the mainland, the moon gave light enough for them to see that Aleamotu'a and the body guard, having heard the shots, were already half way across the narrow channel. But their help was not now needed. James shouted to them that he was unharmed and that they should return to the beach.

As the two friends landed, the Tujoans crowded round their Ratu with excited cries, congratulating him on his escape and begging to be told what had occurred. When he had calmed them down he told them that he would make an important announcement about Roboumo the following morning. Then he ordered Aleamotu'a to march them back to the Royal bure, where they were to be given a good meal and as much kava as they liked to drink. He and Gregory then reboarded the borrowed dinghy, as they could get home more quickly by water.