Porkers’ Picnic

Kimi and the Judge were embarrassed but it was a—

By W. H. Percival.

KIMI’S heart was full as he looked down at his sick brother.

He saw the little muscles round the lad’s mouth jerk as sudden pain caused his nerves to twitch; heard his faint moan as he turned on his side. The sweat from his thin face soaked into the pillow-slip, making a damp patch that spread round his curly black hair.

He turned to the Native Medical Practitioner who stood at his side.

“Can’t you do anything for him?”

“I’ve done all I can, Kimi. There is only one thing left. He must be sent to Rarotonga hospital at once, rhe Aratangi leaves for Rarotonga 10-morrow.”

Lines of worry showed in Kimi’s smooth young face.

“But I have no money for the are.”

Nobody on the island had any noMey. The profits of the tomato :rop had been spent weeks ago; and he orange season was three months -way. He felt the Medico’s hand on lis arm. “Go and see the captain, Cimi. Maybe he let you pay later.” * * * Kimi stared at the lean, battered mgth of the small ship tied up to be rough jetty. The once-white aint was peeling off in places, show ig patches of red lead as ugly as ropic sores. Polynesian seamen r ere lashing boxes of shell and bags t stinking copra into position on dirty deck. He crossed the arrow gangplank and stepped over

the sagging guard rails.

“What do you want?”

Captain Vosco eased his flabby bulk down the bridge companion He wore a filthy singlet and three days’ growth of beard. A leather belt made a dividing crease across his gross stomach and supported wrinkled and stained duck trousers.

Kimi wet his lower lip with the tip of his tongue and smiled nervously. “Captain, my brother, Mata, he very sick. Doctor say he must go to Rarotonga hospital. But I have no money for his passage.

I pay you when you come back in the orange season. I have plenty money then.”

“What sort of a mug do you take me for, kid? How do I know that you’ll pay me? If your brother’s sick he’ll have to travel cabin.

That’ll cost £5. And the terms are strictly cash.”

“But captain, no other ship call here until after the hurricane season, and if Mata not go hospital very soon, maybe he die.”

“That’s none of my business. I’m running a trading vessel—not the Public Health Service. Come and see me when you have the money.

No dough, no passage.” He turned and walked aft.

Kimi trudged up the wharf towards the coastal road with tears blurring his vision and spilling down his cheeks. Where to get so much money, so quick, he thought.

All my friends and relations are as broke as me. Too much big fool, me.

When I have money I spend it all on ice-cream and paper hats. I take my girl to the cowboy pictures and buy her new dresses. Now I have no money.

He stopped suddenly as the idea came to him. There was just about enough taro and kumera on his plot to raise the required amount. The vegetables were ready to be gathered and it was market-day to-morrow.

His neighbours would loan him their horse and buggy, and he would be sure of selling all he could pro duce, for food was getting scarce.

He hurried along the dusty coral road, then turned inland up the track that led into the hills. The jungle was a thick green carpet that covered the land, except where an occasional r<pcky outcrop showed a grey, basaltic face, and coconuts and citrus marched in orderly ranks across the level spaces.

When he reached his own small plot he was perspiring freely. He looked about him—and sudden dis may sickened him like a blow in the stomach. The kumera plants were smashed and trampled down and half-devoured vegetables lay rotting m the sun.

He jerked his eyes towards the taro swamp, feeling rage build up at the sight of further damage. Less than a quarter of the crop was un spoiled.

“Damn pigs,” he said. He could hear th e m grunting somewhere among the taro leaves. And then he saw them, a large black boar and a fat old sow, almost invisible as they wallowed in the black mud.

He walked over to a clump of wild hibiscus saplings, and with his clasp knife, hacked one down and trimmed it. He tore at the green bark with his teeth and ripped it off in strips. Within a few minutes he had nooses of pliable bark He began to stalk the pigs.

Half an hour later he sat down in the shade of the trees to rest, too tired to be angry any longer.

The pigs were safely tied to con venient trees and would stay there until he had decided what to do.

He crossed his mud-blackened legs and began to think about old Judge Charleston.

Lately the Judge had increased the fines for this offence. He also lectured the guilty ones at length and threatened them with drastic punishment if they should come up before him again. The Judge under stood the islanders and their problems. He was a good man, and a fair man. Kimi stood up. I go see the Judge, he thought. He tell me what to do. * * * KIMI crossed the wide, well-kept lawn that surrounded the spaci ous bungalow. He could see the Judge sitting in his bamboo chair on the verandah. He stood at the foot of the steps as the Judge put

Speak up, lad...who is the owner?"

down his book and reached for his whisky glass.

“Well, my lad. What can I do for you?”

“Good afternoon, sir. I am sorry to disturb your honour. But I have some troubles about some pigs.”

“Oh, yes? Well, sit down a minute and tell me about it.”

Kimi sat down carefully on the edge of a chair, began to tell the Judge about Mata’s illness, the necessity of his travelling on the Aratangi, of his efforts to raise the passage mDney being frustrated by the pigs.

“I feel very bad, sir. The puakas, they spoil my crops. So I come to ask you, what shall I do?”

“Did you catch the pigs?”

“Yes, sir. And I tie them to the trees.”

“Right, then. The next step is to send for the owner, show him the damage and ask him to pay for it. If he refuses to pay, issue a summons against him and bring him to court. I promise you that I will deal very severely with him. There is no excuse for this sort of thing.

And I’m determined to stamp it out.”

The Judge sipped at his whisky and placed the glass on the table.

“By the way, do you know who the pigs belong to?”

“Yes, sir.” Kimi lowered his eyes and stared at his feet.

“Well, speak up, lad. Who is the owner?”

“You are, sir.”

“What?” The Judge’s mouth fell open. He sat upright in his chair and surprise made his round face comical. “That’s not possible. Are you sure? Describe them.”

He got out of his chair and paced the verandah with short, jerky steps as he listened. “By George, that’s them all right. How much did you say the damage amounted to?

“Five pounds, sir.”

“Hum —a fiver, eh.”

The Judge reached for the wallet that bulged his hip pocket. t The District Medical Officer Eastern, the Roko Tui Lomaiviti, Messrs. E. Ashley, I. D. Cammell, Gulabdas, A. G. McCown, R. A.

Ricketts and W. G. B. Williams have been appointed members of the Levuka Township Board, Fiji, under the chairmanship of Mr. E. O.

Sundin. t By notice in the French Oceania Journal Official of January, Mr.

Carlos-Gracia Palacios is confirmed as Consult for Chile in Papeete.