The Birthday Pearl

== THE BIRTHDAY PEARL ==
=== By John Arthur Barry, ===
Originally published in Chamber's Journal 1899
“It's my birthday," said Bob Panton, master and owner 
1 of the pearl-shell lugger Daisy, then lying at anchor off Somerset on her return from a trip about Torres Straits. "It's my birthday," repeated he, bringing out a "square-face" of Hollands. "We'll have a nip all round, and then we'll open a shell each, just for fun, and to see what sort of luck I'm to have this next year." 
The five blacks and the one other white man that constituted the Daisy's crew duly drank the skipper's health in half-pints ; and then, laughing, each man chose the biggest oyster he could find— all about the size of soup-plates. 
Four were blanks, and they all walched Abdallah, the new hand, as he slowly opened the great bivalve. Then came a shout as he presently held up a pearl, pear-shaped, and almost as big as a hazel-nut, the finest gem on record yet found in those seas. 
"Good luck indeed !" quoth Bob Panton as the chorus of admiration subsided, and, pulling out a bundle of ten dirty one-pound notes, he handed them over to Abdallah, saying : 
"Take these for yourself, lad. I'll double it if this turns out as A I as it looks." 
"And now I'll get up another square-face, and we'll wet the little stranger properly, and christen it the 'Birthday Pearl.' And they did so to such purpose that, bar Abdallah, there was no sober man on the Daisy by eight bells that night. 
In the morning when Captain Bob Panton came on deck 
Abdallah was missing. So, as presently discovered, was the big pearl that Panton had left in a small wooden box in his birth. So was the Daisy's dingy that had been towing astern. 
Bob Panton sold his shell, and offered a reward of £50 for the thief. But, though all the southern police were put on the "qui vive," nothing could be heard of the Birthday Pearl nor of Abdallah. And at last there were people found who did not scruple to hint at birthday hallucinations, bom of "square gin," on the part of Captain Bob and his crew. 
But Panton took the matter to heart, and got on a spree ; spent his shell-money and more ; sold his boat, pulled himself together, and started off in pursuit of Abdallah, with ever before his vision the virgin sheen of the great pearl, his for a few hours only, convinced that until he recovered it luck for him, either in this world or the next, was out of the question. 
When old widower Wilhelm Itzig, the watchmaker and jeweler at Port Leichardt, died, his native-born son, Herman, came home from a wandering life of droving and working upon stations, and, returning to the trade he had been taught, mended the Leichardt clocks and watches with an indifferent measure of success, being at best but a botch. 
The little shanty, dignified with the title of shop, stood apart from the rest of the township, and quite close to the beach. And but for an old tin sign, with upon it "Herman Itzig, working jeweler," and an old clock and three empty watchcases in the window, there was nothing to distinguish it from any of the other straggling "humpies" that went to make up the nearly deserted Queensland seaport. 
"How much, John?" Hermann was asking of a half-starved, unkempt-looking black man, a fortnight after the finding and losing of the Birthday Pearl, shining mildly now in the gloom of the stuffy little inner room of the shop by the beach. 
"Won 'undreed, two 'undreed-feefeetee, sar,' replied Abdallah, eyeing the gem as Hermann rolled it to and fro in the palm of his hand. 
"Don't you wish you may get it, my boy," replied Hermann laughing. "Ask a thousand whilst you're about it, John. Why don't you?" 
"Ver' fine pul, sar," replied Abdallah, cringing. "Some day get mooch more dan t'ousan' for 'im." 
And young Hermann, although knowing little of such matters, thought, as he noted its soft lustre and flawless shape, that possibly his customer might be right. 
His hand closed on the pearl. Said he: "I'll give you twenty. Haven't got another cent, anyhow" — which was the truth. 
But Abdallah raised his eyes and hands to heaven in mute appeal at such an offer. 
"You'll either take that or nothing," said Hermann, suddenly producing a revolver and pointing it straight at the other's head. "You stole it, you beggar; you know yo.u did, up the coast somewhere — ^Thursday Island or Somerset, likely. Here, think yourself lucky to get so much." And Hermann handed over four five-pound notes. 
"Take them," said he, seeing that the other made no motion, "or I'll have you up to the police barracks in a quarter less than no time !" 
There- was murder in Abdallah's eye. But he put out his hand 
"Now clear straight out," said Hermann. "There's the Barcoo alongside the wharf. If you take my advice you'll get away in her. So long, old man !" 
As he turned away, putting down the pistol, Abdallah sprang on him Hke a tiger, drawing his sheath-knife as he did so — for he was clad like any coasting sailor, in a suit of belted dungaree. Hermann reeled and fell, the knife descended again and again as Abdallah struck in his blind rage, and presently the body underneath him grew limp and motionless. 
Rising and striking a match — for night was coming on, and the small room was nearly in darkness — Abdallah searched until he saw the Birthday Pearl lying near the bed, gleaming up at him out of a little pool of blood. 
Wiping it on the blankets, also his knife, he turned and fled towards the long jetty where lay the steamship Barcoo, already clanging her second bell, a better man by twenty pounds than when he entered Leichardt that night, with a useless fortune in his pocket. 
Next morning, somebody coming into the shop with a Waterbury to mend, found Hermann lying senseless and nearly dead from loss of blood. None of the wounds, however, had touched any vital part ; and a month in the local hospital restored him to health again. For reasons of his own, he bad professed himself unable to give any description of the assassin. Illicit pearl-buyers on that coast were looked upon with great disfavor, for the reason that every inhabitant who could afford it had shares in some venture connected with the fishery — that is, the pearl-shell fleet. The pearls "themselves were but a by-blow of the industry — conspicuous more by their rarity, except in the shape of almost worthless "seed," than anything else. 
But the glamor of the big gem had entered into Hermann's soul, as it had into Panton's and into Abdallah's: and presently, selling out his stock for a few pounds, he, too, moved on in pursuit, impelled, to boot, by a sharp feeling of revenge for loss of blood and money. 
Meanwhile Abdallah, journeying southward, made no more attempts to dispose of his treasure. But, sewing it in a little bag of black calico, he hid it away artistically in the meshes of his thick hair, where with a touch he could assure himself of its safety. He was a man who had traveled far, and knew many things — knew more than Panton or Itzig; but travel had not shut out inherent superstition. And he began to look upon the big pearl as a charm, an amulet, that, worn always, would protect him and bring him much good fortune. At various times, in the absence of any distinguishing marks of caste or dress, he had been taken for a Malay, a Hindu, and a Kanaka. 
But Abdallah was none of these. He was an Arab from Muscat, who had in his time worked among the rotting oysterheaps of El Bouruk on the sh9res of the Persian Gulf, had seen big pearls, and possessed a fair notion of their value. Hence he was well aware that he had a prize that would make a sensation in the world, and one whose owner would be unable to hide his light under a bushel — so far as the police, at least, were concerned. 
Nor did he imagine for a moment that Panton would sit down quietly under his loss. Of Hermann he thought no more— dead men tell no tales. 
So he traveled round to Adelaide, thence by sea up Spencer's Gulf to Port Augusta, where he joined the camel-trains of Hafiz Khan, the rich Afghan who brought the wool down from the arid interior to the tall ships lying in the river. 
Into Sydney shortly came Hermann Itzig, with the desire for vengeance still hot, but purse low. His guarded inquiries soon let him into the knowledge that the police were on the watch, and had at least twenty men shadowed on suspicion, and waiting the arrival of Panton. 
Seeing that so far as his own claim was concerned the case was hopeless, he gave it up. But not until he had satisfied himself that Abdallah was not in the city did he for a time relinquish the hope of getting even with him for that little matter of the knifing in the hut by the Leichardt beach. 
Later, falling in with two of his countrymen bound for the West Australian gold fields, he joined them. The trio were lucky, and made each a fair pile. After a hurried visit to the Fatherland, which he left also hurriedly, convinced that for the Australian-born a military despotism was a most unsuitable form of government, Hermann Itzig, returning, bought a. station "up north" in South Australia, and after a while began to prosper considerably. But often to him came dreams of the big pe§irl, shining with its mild and tender light as he had last seen it — an episode in his life that, but for certain pains of frosty mornings, he .might have almost come to regard as apocryphal. A stern, resolute man, he was incapable of forgetting an injury ; and ever and anon, principally in the winter, he sent agents to work to hunt up Abdallah, meaning, when found, to deal with him after his own fashion. 
But when a black man, or a yellow, chooses to hide himself among others of his color, the search is apt to linger and become monotonous. 
And so Bob Panton found it. 
Received by the police with open arms and a whole tribe of dusky nomads — Manila-men, Kanakas, Javanese, men from the spurs of the Hindu Kush, others from the palm groves of Kandy and the plains of Central India — he could identify none of them. The police had done their best, stimulated by the reward. But the vagueness of the description baffled them. There were so many black men with sharp aquiline features and good teeth, who spoke very little English, and usually wore European clothes. And at last they gave it up as a bad job. So also did the authorities in Melbourne and Adelaide, whither Bob Panton journeyed on his quest, with hopes growing weaker and weaker. 
Superstitious in his way as Abdallah, he had quite made up his mind that unless he recovered his Birthday Pearl, no luck would ever again cross his path in thiS world, nor possibly in the next ; and, strong in his belief, he spent every penny 
Close to the door lay another corpse — ^that of a man — a man with strips of dry black flesh hanging from his bones. 
"Great heaven 1" exclaimed Itzig, "what's the matter here?" But Panton made no answer. He was staring intently at the shriveled features of the dead man. As he gazed he saw something shine from between the skeleton fingers of one clenched hand. Stooping, he drew out with a cry the great pearl, A'bdallah's god, appealed "to in vain during his last agony. 
"My pearl !" exclaimed Hermann. , "No— uiine!" said Panton. "My Birthday Peari that Abdallah here stole from me !" 
"Are you Panton, then?" asked Hermann. 
"Yes," replied Bob, "I am. But what do you know about the matter?" 
Then Hermann told his story, waiving all rights, if any belonged by reason of the wounds that ached yet in winter. He could afford to. But what had killed man and horses? 
There was a little water left in the bottom of the well-bucket. Hermann tasted it, shook his head, and spat it out. Alongside the bucket lay a native cat, dead. At the troughs, dry now, were others ; also crows, all dead. 
"I prefer our own water," said he. "Empty the whisky out of that bottle in the buggy, and fill it from the well. I'll fix this stuff up when we get home. That pearl's worth a lot of money. A good day's work for you. And for me, too, perhaps, if my notion turns out correct. Copper's not so low as it was." 
Analysis disclosed the secret. The well had been bottomed on a very rich vein of copper ore. The water had become so impregnated with' the mineral as to become highly poisonous. A thirsty man and thirsty horses might as well have drunk a strong decoction of arsenic. 
It required a deal of persuasion to make Panton part with his pearl. Even as Abdallah, he was minded to make a fetish of the thing — it was so pure-looking, and shone with such a mild graciousness, that it seemed very hard to relinquish possession of it. 
But at last wiser counsels prevailed. Messrs. Storr & Mortimer gave £2,500 for it, and with this money Panton bought a partnership in Weetah. And what eventually became of the Birthday Pearl I know not. I note, however, that at the last London wool sales Messrs. Itzig & Panton's clip averaged the top prices of the season.
Category:Chamber's Journal
Category:Barry