Hawaii - James Michener [264]
"I'm afraid that's none of your business," Dr. Whipple replied. "But what did you have in mind?"
Chun Fat did some fast calculating. In the Kee family alone there were more than one hundred and forty able-bodied men. "Boss, I get you all men two dollars each man."
Now John Whipple did his own calculating. The Cantonese merchant whom he had brought with him could speak English, and had helped in that regard, but he had no sense of how to enlist labor. It was pretty obvious that this wily fellow from California knew what was required. But two dollars a head? "I'll give you one dollar and a half a head," he proposed.
Uncle Chun Fat studied that for some time, then replied slowly, "Who gonna argue with women? Who speak everything right?" He enumerated a long list of tasks he could be counted on to perform.
"Two dollars," he said firmly.
"One-seventy-five," Whipple countered.
"Boss," Uncle Chun Fat smiled sweetly, "I top man here. Unless I speak, they no go."
"Two dollars," Dr. Whipple surrendered. Instantly Uncle Chun Fat thrust his hand out and grabbed Whipple's, shouting to his people in Punti, "When you shake hands like this, by god, you believe what you say! I'm warning you, everyone of you!"
He was appalled, however, by Dr. Whipple's one stipulation: "Sir, I do not agree to this bargain unless half the men you send are Hakka."
Chun Fat looked at the stranger blankly. Finally, he repeated dully, "Hakka?"
"Yes, you know. Hakka. Up there."
"How in the world did he know about the Hakka?" Chun Fat thought despairingly. "Did that foul Cantonese . . ." To Dr. Whipple he said, "Why you want Hakka? No good Hakka."
Dr. Whipple looked him sternly in the eye, and his forty years of trading for J & W fortified his judgment. "We have heard," he said slowly, "that Hakka are fine workmen. We know that the Punti are clever, for we have many in Hawaii. But Hakka can work. Shall we go up to that village?"
Uncle Chun Fat faced a desperate impasse. He could see as clearly as he could see his hand those lush valleys of the Fragrant Tree Land. Good heavens, a hard-working Chinese set loose there could make a million dollars if he were clever! And think of the advantage to the Low Village to have three hundred Kees working there and sending money back home regularly. Uncle Chun Fat could be sure of getting not less than fifteen cents out of every incoming dollar. It would be a calamity, a disaster worse than a flood, for the Kees to miss such an opportunity. But this stern, straight man had mentioned the Hakka . . .
"Dr. Whipple," Uncle Chun Fat began cautiously, "maybe Hakka work well but too much fight."
"I will go to the village alone," Dr. Whipple said sternly.
"How you talk with Hakka?" Chun Fat asked slyly.
Dr. Whipple smiled superiorly at the wily negotiator and said simply, "My friend from Canton will do the translating."
"But he no speak Hakka," Uncle Chun Fat said evenly, smiling back at his visitor.
With no evidence of frustration Whipple asked, "Do you speak Hakka?"
"Only one man speak Hakka. My boy Kee Mun Ki. In army he learn few words."
"I suppose you want two dollars for each Hakka, too?" Whipple suggested hesitantly.
"Yes, because speak Hakka very difficult."
"Let's go," Whipple said with a resigned shrug of his shoulders, and then from the manner in which Chun Fat hesitated he realized with amazement that no one from the Low Village had ever climbed to the High Village. "You've never been up there?" he asked.
"Hakka up there," Chun Fat shuddered.
When Dr. Whipple saw how difficult it was proving to be to reach Hakka country, he was momentarily inclined to forget the matter and was about to surrender and allow Chun Fat to supply only Punti, but then his scientific interest asserted itself and he reflected: "I came here to initiate an experiment to see who would best satisfy our labor needs on the plantations, Punti or Hakka, and I'm not going to be bluffed out of that study now." So he said firmly, "If you can't lead the way, I will." And for all his sixty-six years