He weighed one hundred and ten pounds. His hair was kinky and negroid， and he was black. He was peculiarly black. He was neither blue-black nor purple-black， but plum-black. His name was Mauki， and he was the son of a chief. He had three tambos. Tambo is Melanesian for taboo， and is first cousin to that Polynesian word. Mauki's three tambos were as follows： First， he must never shake hands with a woman， nor have a woman's hand touch him or any of his personal belongings； secondly， he must never eat clams nor any food from a fire in which clams had been cooked； thirdly， he must never touch a crocodile， nor travel in a canoe that carried any part of a crocodile even if as large as a tooth.
Of a different black were his teeeth， which were deep black， or， perhaps better， LAMP-black. They had been made so in a single night， by his mother， who had compressed about them a powdered mineral which was dug from the landslide back of Port Adams. Port Adams is a salt-water village on Malaita， and Malaita is the most savage island in the Solomons--so savage that no traders or planters have yet gained a foothold on it； while， from the time of the earliest b坈he-de-mer fishers and sandalwood traders down to the latest labor recruiters equipped with automatic rifles and gasolene engines， scores of white adventurers have been passed out by tomahawks and soft-nosed Snider bullets. So Malaita remains today， in the twentieth century， the stamping ground of the labor recruiters， who farm its coasts for laborers who engage and contract themselves to toil on the plantations of the neighboring and more civilized islands for a wage of thirty dollars a year. The natives of those neighboring and more civilized islands have themselves become too civilized to work on plantations.
Mauki's ears were pierced， not in one place， nor two places， but in a couple of dozen places. In one of the smaller holes he carried a clay pipe. The larger holes were too large for such use. The bowl of the pipe would have fallen through. In fact， in the largest hole in each ear he habitually wore round wooden plugs that were an even four inches in diameter. Roughly speaking， the circumference of said holes was twelve and one-half inches.
Mauki was catholic in his tastes. In the various smaller holes he carried such things as empty rifle cartridges， horseshoe nails， copper screws， pieces of string， braids of sennit， strips of green leaf， and， in the cool of the day， scarlet hibiscus flowers. From which it will be seen that pockets were not necessary to his well-being. Besides， pockets were impossible， for his only wearing apparel consisted of a piece of calico several inches wide. A pocket knife he wore in his hair， the blade snapped down on a kinky lock. His most prized possession was the handle of a china cup， which he suspended from a ring of turtle-shell， which， in turn， was passed through the partition-cartilage of his nose.
But in spite of embellishments， Mauki had a nice face. It was really a pretty face， viewed by any standard， and for a Melanesian it was a remarkably good-looking face. Its one fault was its lack of strength. It was softly effeminate， almost girlish. The features were small， regular， and delicate.
The chin was weak， and the mouth was weak. There was no strength nor character in the jaws， forehead， and nose. In the eyes only could be caught any hint of the unknown quantities that were so large a part of his make-up and that other persons could not understand. These unknown quantities were pluck， pertinacity， fearlessness， imagination， and cunning； and when they found expression in some consistent and striking action， those about him were astounded.
Mauki's father was chief over the village at Port Adams， and thus， by birth a salt-water man， Mauki was half amphibian. He knew the way of the fishes and oysters， and the reef was an open book to him. Canoes， also， he knew. He learned to swim when he was a year old. At seven years he could hold his breath a full minute and swim straight down to bottom through thirty feet of water. And at seven years he was stolen by the bushmen， who cannot even swim and who are afraid of salt water. Thereafter Mauki saw the sea only from a distance， through rifts in the jungle and from open spaces on the high mountain sides. He became the slave of old Fanfoa， head chief over a score of scattered bush-villages on the range-lips of Malaita， the smoke of which， on calm mornings， is about the only evidence the seafaring white men have of the teeming interior population. For the whites do not penetrate Malaita. They tried it once， in the days when the search was on for gold， but they always left their heads behind to grin from the smoky rafters of the bushmen's huts.
When Mauki was a young man of seventeen， Fanfoa got out of tobacco. He got dreadfully out of tobacco. It was hard times in all his villages. He had been guilty of a mistake. Suo was a harbor so small that a large schooner could not swing at anchor in it. It was surrounded by mangroves that overhung the deep water. It was a trap， and into the trap sailed two white men in a small ketch.
They were after recruits， and they possessed much tobacco and trade goods， to say nothing of three rifles and plenty of ammunition. Now there were no salt-water men living at Suo， and it was there that the bushmen could come down to the sea. The ketch did a splendid traffic. It signed on twenty recruits the first day. Even old Fanfoa signed on. And that same day the score of new recruits chopped off the two white men's head， killed the boat's crew， and burned the ketch. Thereafter， and for three months， there was tobacco and trade goods in plenty and to spare in all the bush villages. Then came the man-of-war that threw shells for miles into the hills， frightening the people out of their villages and into the deeper bush. Next the man-of-war sent landing parties ashore. The villages were all burned， along with the tobacco and trade stuff.