"Are you mad?" said I. "Why, it is three days' sail in an open vinta.'"
"There
are many wonderful pearls in Palawan," said Sayid, "and the natives
will sell cheaply, because the white men do not go there."
"How do you know all this?" I demanded.
He averted his eyes and said negligently: "Some fishermen told me!"
I
demanded to be shown these Samal fishermen. But the tale had been told
to him at third hand. Nevertheless, I went to Palawan. Perhaps I was
hypnotised, perhaps crazy. And so, because Sayid wanted to take a
second wife, presently I found myself tossing in a frail-bottomed craft
on sharky waters. I was seasisk and wanted to die.
But
one moonlit night we came quietly into San Antonio Bay and I stepped
ashore amidst the exotic tropical beauty of Palawan, looking for
bargains.
Well,
I got what I went for. In an hour at Panglima Hassan's bamboo shack I
exchanged a large bundle of dirty notes for pearls which were enough to
compensate me for four days of seasickness. After which the Panglima
entertained me as well as he knew how, and there was a great gathering
in my honour in the cool of the evening. Finally he showed me his
greatest treasure. In my palm I found a coconut pearl, walnut size and
perfectly spherical, like a big ball of camphor. I turned it in my
hand, trying to think of a compliment, and there came uppermost a large
circular spot of green, and in the midst of the green a large black
dot, the whole looking like an eyeball in my hand. In a sudden nausea I
thought I saw
