CHAPTER XV
HERR SCHWANKMACHER'S CABBAGES
A little before twelve on Monday, Herr Rudolph Schwankmacher, one ofthe most respected residents of Apia, capital of Samoa, was recliningunder the shade of a plantain in his garden beyond the promontory ofMulinuu, enjoying the conversation of a friend and the refreshingbitterness of a bottle of light lager beer. The garden rose a few feetabove the level of the ground in front of it, and afforded anexcellent view over the sea. Hither Herr Schwankmacher was wont toretire for a brief spell of rest and meditation in the heat of theday, and on this occasion he had been accompanied by a compatriotnewly arrived from Germany, to whom he was expatiating on thepleasures of colonial life in general, and in particular on thedelights of rearing cabbages in so rich and prolific a soil.
"Yes," he said, "you will find no cabbages like these in Germany. Yousee them. They are grown from seed. It is not a month since I put theseed in the ground, and the plants are already flourishing. They willsoon be full-grown, and then I shall pickle them, and have for everyday in the year a dish that will remind me as I eat it of the days ofmy youth in the dear Homeland. Ach! the Homeland; it is very dear. Ilove it, although I would not return to it for the world. This is thehappy land, my friend. It is a fairland. It is a beautiful land forcopra, flowers, and cabbages. I am content."
He tossed off a glass of beer and lay back on the green sward, puffingat a pipe and gazing benignly up into the broad-leaved canopy thatsheltered him from the midday sun. For some time he reclined thus,dropping a word now and then to his companion, answering hisquestions, but always returning to the cabbages.
As they lay in this placidity and ease they were suddenly aware of aslight buzzing in the air. Herr Schwankmacher raised himself on hiselbow, and looked around for the insect that had dared to intrude intothis peaceful cabbage-patch. There was no insect in sight of such asize as to account for the deep-toned hum, which was growing loudermoment by moment.
"This is strange," he said. "I never heard such a noise before."
"I have heard it," said his friend. "I have heard it very close. Thelast time was when Count Zeppelin's airship came down in theTeutoberger Wald. I was there."
"So; but Count Zeppelin would not be here in Samoa. We have noairships here. The newspapers say that there is much activity inEurope, especially among the French and English, in this new pastime,but I dare say the greater part of what they say is lies. But really,the noise is becoming very great; I am unable to explain it."
Both men were now sitting erect, looking to right, to left, seawards,landwards, towards the hills. All at once the sound ceased, a shadowwas cast upon them, and before they could realize the situation astrange, uncouth object glided from behind them over the plantains,and came to rest in the centre of the cabbage-patch.
Herr Schwankmacher sprang to his feet with a nimbleness surprising ina man of his size, and rushed forward, snorting with rage andindignation. His friend followed, neither indignant nor enraged, butvery much interested in the occurrence. His intelligent eyes gleamedbehind his glasses; he had himself experienced aerial adventures.
It chanced that Rodier was the first to step out of the machine. Asthe burly, bearded, white-clad figure of Herr Schwankmacher canteredheavily toward him, he lifted his cap, and with that sunny smilewhich had accompanied him through life, he said--
"Monsieur, je vous fais mille excuses. Voudriez-vou bien me dire oul'on puisse obtenir de la petrole."
"Sapperment!" cried the infuriated German. "Es ist ein kriechenderFranzose!"
It was well that Rodier did not understand him, or, never having beencalled a sneaking Frenchman before, he would certainly have fallentooth and nail on the offender, though in respect of bulk the Germanwould have made two of him. Fortunately for the keeping of peace, hewas quite ignorant of the German tongue, and when Herr Schwankmacherproceeded to shake his pipe at him, and deliver his opinion oftrespassers in general and French trespassers in particular, withintermittent allusions to cabbages, Rodier only listened with the samegentle smile and deprecating movements of his grimy hands.
Smith, joining him, addressed Herr Schwankmacher in English, but hisintervention seemed only to add fuel to the flames. The German knew noEnglish; neither Smith nor Rodier knew German; and the affair promisedto come to a deadlock. But here a peacemaker stepped in. HerrSchwankmacher's friend, who appeared to be greatly amused, steppedforward with a noticeable limp.
"Gentlemen, gentlemen, zis is not business. Permit me, sir," he saidto Smith.
He took Herr Schwankmacher by the arm, and spoke a few words to him;upon which the German consented to be silent and in dudgeon resumedhis pipe.
"My friend, sir," the second man went on, "is vat you call chippybecause you come plomp into his bed of cabbage, very fine vegetable,vich remind him of his youthful days in ze ever-to-beloved Homeland."
"Oh, well," said Smith, "assure him that I am very sorry. I didn'tmean to hurt his cabbages, and I'll pay for any damage that I'vedone."
"Was sagt er?" said Herr Schwankmacher suspiciously.
His friend translated Smith's words. Schwankmacher grunted.
"The fact is," continued Smith, "we've run short of petrol, and I hadto come down. I hoped to make Apia; that is it, yonder, I suppose?"
"Zat is so. You vant petrol. Zen I introduce you to excellent firmavat supply ze Commandant. It is good petrol; I know it, for ze firmareceive large consignments of it from ze highly respectable firma Ihaf ze honour to represent--Schlagintwert Gesellschaft of Duesseldorf.Sir, viz compliments."
He took from a capacious pocket a bulky book in a red paper wrapper.
"Zis is our price list, sir, revise and correct. Ve can supply anyzinkvatefer, and I shall esteem it great favour to haf ze opportunity toquote for petrol, machine oil, planes, stays, plugs, propellers,levers, air-bags, goggles, overalls, accumulators--"
"Thanks, but at present I want nothing but petrol and machine oil, andI must have them at once, as I have to start for Honolulu withoutdelay."
"For Honolulu, sir?"
"Yes."
"Across ze sea?"
"There's no other way, is there?"
"Sree sousand miles?"
"Rather less, isn't it?"
"Ach! zis knocks me into a--vat you call it?--into a billycock."
He turned to Herr Schwankmacher, who had just refilled his pipe, andrepeated to him the astounding announcement. The German scoffed.Seeing that there was no help for it if he wished to get away in areasonable time, Smith explained that he was halfway on a voyage roundthe world, and had not a minute to spare.
"Ach! business are business. Zat is vat take me round ze world. Permitme, sir."
He handed Smith a large business card, inscribed with the name"Hildebrand Schwab," and the address of his firm in Duesseldorf.
"Ve shall lose no time, sir," he added. "Zis is ze most amazing zinkzat efer haf I heard, and I esteem it great honour to haf zeopportunity to introduce you to ze excellent firma vat supply you vizpetrol for your so vonderful machine. Vun minute until I tell HerrSchwankmacher, zen ve go doublequick."
Herr Schwankmacher's vexation and incredulity vanished together whenhis friend told him the facts of the case. He was a good fellow atbottom, and now that he knew that the aeroplane's descent in hisgarden was purely accidental, he was ready to do all in his power tospeed the parting guest. In a few minutes Smith was hurrying along theshore road with a German on either side, at his left the surf roaringon the fringe of coral reef, at his right a screen of tufted palms andplantations running up the lower slopes of the mountains. He soon cameto a collection of drinking-bars and stores, all bearing German names.Herr Schwankmacher, now transformed into a cordial host, invited himto drink a bottle of lager with him at one of the bars, but he excusedhimself and followed Schwab into a large store where every sort ofrequisite for machines was kept in stock.
The purchase of petrol proved to be a lengthy transaction, for Schwabwas impelled to tell the story to the store
-keeper, he repeated it tohis clerks, they ran out to tell the neighbours, and the place wassoon thronged with Germans--merchants, clerks, sailors, stokers--alleager to see the airman who was flying round the world. The store wasfilled with smoke and gutturals. The purchase being at last concluded,the cans were rolled to a motor lorry which lumbered along in thedirection of Mulinuu like a triumphal car at the head of a procession.First came Smith with Schwankmacher on his right and Schwab on hisleft; then a crowd of the German population, in which wealthymerchants found themselves neighbours to grimy stokers, and youthfulclerks to the inevitable uniforms; the tail was formed of swarthySamoans, men and women, skipping boys and laughing girls with flowersin their hair.
Rodier had cleaned the engine, and was eating his dinner among thecabbages. He favoured the crowd with a pleasant smile, although somewere Germans, and because others were pretty.
The petrol was placed on board and the tank filled, Smith, withlong-suffering patience, replying to the questions of theEnglish-speaking spectators. All was at last ready for the start;Schwab, who alone of the company had knowledge of the conditions, madehimself useful in clearing the course; and Schwankmacher positivelydeclined to accept payment for the plants which had been crushed underthe aeroplane, and those which were trampled by the spectators' feet.
When the airmen were in their places, Schwab limped up.
"Permit me to shake hands viz ze first circumnavigator of ze sky," hesaid with effusion, "and to remind you zat my firma Schlagintwert villbe most happy to supply you viz anyzink vatefer zat you need, and invatefer region of ze globe you may be, on receipt of postcard,telegram, cable, or Marconigram. Hoch!"
His cheer was taken up by the crowd. The machine moved forward. HerrSchwankmacher, stepping back, fell into the arms of a grinning stoker,and a little native boy, shrieking with fright, ran head-first intothe corpulent frame of a merchant who was more stable in his coprabusiness than in his legs. The aeroplane flew up; the crowd watchedits ascension like adoring worshippers of some sky deity; and in threeminutes it was a mere speck in the cloudless blue.