Yorkshire giant to relieve Bunster. The
Yorkshire man had a reputation as a bruiser and preferred fighting to
eating. But Bunster wouldn't fight. He was a regular little lamb--for
ten days, at the end of which time the Yorkshire man was prostrated by a
combined attack of dysentery and fever. Then Bunster went for him, among
other things getting him down and jumping on him a score or so of times.
Afraid of what would happen when his victim recovered. Bunster fled away
in a cutter to Guvutu, where he signalized himself by beating up a young
Englishman already crippled by a Boer bullet through both hips.

Then it was that Mr. Haveby sent Bunster to Lord Howe, the falling-off
place. He celebrated his landing by mopping up half a case of gin and by
thrashing the elderly and wheezy mate of the schooner which had brought
him. When the schooner departed, he called the kanakas down to the beach
and challenged them to throw him in a wrestling bout, promising a case
of tobacco to the one who succeeded. Three kanakas he threw, but was
promptly thrown by a fourth, who, instead of receiving the tobacco, got
a bullet through his lungs.

And so began Bunster's reign on Lord Howe. Three thousand people lived
in the principal village; but it was deserted, even in broad day, when
he passed through. Men, women, and children fled before him. Even the
dogs and pigs got out of the way, while the king was not above hiding
under a mat. The two prime ministers lived in terror of Bunster, who
never discussed any moot subject, but struck out with his fists instead.

And to Lord Howe came Mauki, to toil for Bunster for eight long years
and a half. There was no escaping from Lord Howe. For better or worse,
Bunster and he were tied together. Bunster weighed two hundred pounds.
Mauki weighed one hundred and ten. Bunster was a degenerate brute. But
Mauki was a primitive savage. While both had wills and ways of their
own.

Mauki had no idea of the sort of master he was to work for. He had had
no warnings, and he had concluded as a matter of course that Bunster
would be like other white men, a drinker of much whiskey, a ruler and a
lawgiver who always kept his word and who never struck a boy undeserved.
Bunster had the advantage. He knew all about Mauki, and gloated over the
coming into possession of him. The last cook was suffering from a broken
arm and a dislocated shoulder, so Bunster made Mauki cook and general
house-boy.

And Mauki soon learned