s.

The next question was where to lodge the Commissioner till a proper
house could be built for him, and he showed he wasn't a gentleman to be
trifled with by cutting short their jabber, and choosing Fono's, which
was the finest in the settlement, and ordering him to clear out, bag and
baggage--which Fono didn't want to do and objected very crossly till
Peter Jones snatched up a rock and ran at him like he meant to pound his
head in. This pleased Mr. Clemm so much that he right off appointed
Peter marshal of his court at a salary of forty dollars a month, and put
him in charge of shifting his things into his new quarters.

I took the liberty of warning Mr. Clemm against the Fijian, but he only
threw back his head and told me most cutting to kindly mind my own
business. But any rancor I might have felt at this disappeared when he
made me clerk of the court, and Stanley tax collector, each at a salary
of sixty dollars a month, with David "Native Adviser and Official
Interpreter" at the same figure.

This was the beginning of the new government, with everything old done
away with, and the first official sign of it was a brand-new,
white-painted flagpole with crosstrees and ratlines in front of the fine
big house that was next built for the Commissioner to live in. The
natives had to do this for nothing, supplying forty men, turn and turn
about, though the galvanized iron, hardware, paint, varnish and what not
were bought of Stanley and me, and paid for in taxes. It was a very fine
place when done, with a broad veranda in front and an inner court
behind, where Mr. Clemm used to lie in a striped hammock, waited on hand
and foot.

But I fancy the wicked French couldn't have taxed the Kanakas any harder
than Mr. Clemm did, which was the best thing in the world for them,
considering how slack they were by nature and not given to doing
anything they could help. It only needed a little attention to double
the copra crop of the island, not to speak of shell--so that the taxes
were a blessing in disguise, the natives being better off than they had
ever been before. Of course they didn't like it and put up a great deal
of opposition till Mr. Clemm raised a Native Constabulary of seven men,
commanded by Peter Jones, and all of them armed any way he could,
including Stanley's shotgun and my Winchester repeater, old man Fosby's
Enfield and several rusty Springfields pounced on here and there as
against the law to own them.

They