# The Gates of Morning/Book 1/Chapter 8

CHAPTER VIII
THE MIND OF SRU
NOW the mind of Sru had sat down to talk with Le Moan, having in it no plan—nothing but a desire for pearls and what pearls would bring, and the knowledge sure and instinctive that Karolin was a pearl lagoon. It had risen up armed with a plan.
This plan had come to him from his close contact and talk with Le Moan. Brooding alone with nothing for his mind to cling to, it is doubtful if Sru could have evolved a plan; the presence of the girl, her connection with Karolin, her story, her wish to get back, the fact that she was a pathfinder and the fact that Peterson, even if he took the Kermadec back, would take all the profit of the business for himself—all these thoughts and considerations came together in Sru’s mind and held together like a cluster of bees, owing to the presence of the girl who was the core and centre of everything. He would speak of the matter to Rantan. Sru understood that Karolin was not on the charts, those mysterious pieces of paper that enabled Peterson to find his way about, he understood that Rantan had little knowledge of navigation, he only knew that were they to steer south for as many days as they had steered north and then hand the ​steering over to Le Moan, she would bring them to the place desired.
Give her the wheel right away and she would steer them back, but she could not stand at the wheel for days and days; no, it would be enough to steer south by the compass and then when close on the latitude hand the wheel to her. The instinct that led the birds over unmarked sea spaces and the palu from hundreds of miles away to the self-same breeding grounds, that would be sufficient.
Going aft he hung about for a while close to the fellow at the wheel, but there was no sign of Rantan and Peterson coming on deck. Sru went forward again and dropped below to the foc’sle. It was in the morning watch that he found his opportunity, only Rantan and the steersman were aft and Sru coming along, stood with the mate by the rail.
The dawn was full on the sea.
They spoke for a minute on the prospect of the wind holding, and then Sru, with a glance at the steersman to make sure he was out of hearing, came to his subject.
“That land we have left,” said Sru, “is Karolin—the girl has told me the name, but much more as well. That lagoon is a pearl lagoon. This is a private matter between us. I tell you because I could not tell any one else and because I think we may profit by it.”
“A pearl lagoon,” said Rantan. “Is she speaking the truth?”
“The truth. She wears behind her ear two pearls ​in one, so,” said Sru, joining his closed fists in the dawn light, “they are tied in her hair and the wind lifting her hair I saw them; then I spoke and she told me. Now listen, Ra’tan, we know of this matter, you and I, we two alone will get those pearls—Pete’son, no. He would swallow them all and give us the shells to eat, but how we are to go has not been shown to me, it is for you to see to that matter.”
All this he said in the native and Rantan, listening, tapped out the ashes from his pipe against his heel, and then, pipe in hand, leaned against the rail, his eyes fixed on the deck.
In the increasing light he could see the deck planking clearly even to the dowels. Plunged fathoms deep in thought he said nothing for a while, then raising his eyes he spoke.
“What you say is true, but Pete’son is the wisest of us. How can we find that island again without him? As you know, my life has been spent mostly among the islands—shore along and between island and island as they lie in the Paumotas ten to a space as broad as your palm. I can handle this ship or any ship like this or any canoe, as you know, but to look at the sun at noon as Pete’son looks, and to say ‘I am here, or here,’ that art has not been given me. I have not lived my life on the deep sea, but only in shallow waters. Then again Pete’son is not the full owner of this ship, there is another man who owns a part and without talking to him he cannot break a voyage, he ​cannot say, I will go here or here without the other man saying yes.”
“That is the more reason,” said Sru, “that we must go without him.”
“And without him we cannot find our way,” replied Rantan.
Then Sru told of Le Moan’s power of direction finding. Rantan understood at once, he had seen the thing often amongst the natives of Soma and other islands and the fact came suddenly on his mind like the blow of a hammer riveting things together.
But he said nothing to show exactly what was in his mind, he heard Sru out, and told him to go forward and not speak of the matter to any one. “For,” said Rantan, “there may be something in what you say. I do not know yet, but I will think the matter over.”
Left alone he stood, his eyes on the sun blaze creeping upon the eastern horizon. He was a quick thinker. The thing was possible, and if Karolin lagoon was a true pearl lagoon the thing was a fortune.
By taking the Kermadec there with the kanaka crew for divers, eight months or a year’s work would give the profit of twenty voyages. Well he knew that if Colin Peterson were the chief of that expedition, there would be little profit for any one but Peterson and his partner. Peterson would have to be eliminated if there was any work to be done in this business.
Sru had not said a word about Taori or Le Moan’s untruth as to Karolin being uninhabited.
​It would have tangled the story for one thing, and for another might not Ra’tan say to himself. “If this girl has lied on one matter, may she not be lying about the pearls?” Sru knew instinctively that she spoke the truth, and he left it at that, and Rantan watching now the glory of the rising sun, stood, his plan crystallizing into full shape, his eyes gazing not on the sunlit sea, but on Karolin, a desolate atoll, uninhabited, with no eyes to watch what might be done there but the eyes of the seagulls.
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