FRED SANDERS
Captain Bergen was so affected by the joyful awakening to the fact that his long, dismal sojourn on the lonely island in the Pacific had reached the end at last, and by the belief that now he would be carried as rapidly as wind and sail could take him to his beloved New England again, that his mind was unsettled and he behaved in a way that pained, as much as it astonished, his companion.
Inasmuch as such was the fact, Mr. Storms hoped that it would be accepted as an explanation of the strange utterances in which he had indulged, for he believed that the cupidity of the young man had already been excited, and a most unfortunate complication threatened.
“You will excuse the excitement of my friend,” said he to Sanders, “though mine is nearly as great; but he had almost settled into the belief that we were doomed to perish in this desolate spot, and the reaction 187 caused by your joyous tidings is too much for him.”
“Oh, that’s all right!” was the cheery response. “I understand how that is. But, begging pardon, I believe you have another companion?”
Fred looked so earnestly at the figure of Inez Hawthorne, standing a short distance off, that his meaning could not be mistaken.
“It is I who should beg your pardon,” said Storms, in turn, beckoning to Inez to approach; “but we were so much interested in you that we forgot her for the time.”
While the girl was approaching the group, Captain Bergen turned about, and without a word, walked slowly away in the direction of the cabin, his manner showing still more clearly than ever that his mind was unbalanced––a fact which caused Storms great discomfort. Aside from his love for the good, honest man, he saw that he had already imperiled, and was likely still further to imperil, their great possessions by his rambling, and yet significant, talk.
The pearls still lay some distance away, buried in the sand in their canvas bags, and must be procured before leaving the island.
Since the captain had already awakened suspicion respecting the truth, the difficulty of getting the prizes away without detection was immeasurably increased, 188 while the likelihood of his making still further disclosures remained.
Storms was fearful that this sudden movement on the part of Bergen meant something of the kind, but the situation was such that he could not interfere, and all he could do during the few minutes remaining of the trying interview, was to keep a furtive watch, so far as possible, upon the movements of the captain.
“Mr. Sanders,” said the mate, “this is Inez Hawthorne––a little girl who became a companion of ours through no fault of hers or of either of us. She has been here during the three years we have spent on the island, and though she has stood it so much better than we, she is fully as anxious to get away. Inez, this is Mr. Fred Sanders, who has come to take us off.”
The handsome young fellow doffed his hat and bowed with a certain grace and deferential regard in his manner, which led Storms, who was narrowly watching him, to suspect that he was of high birth and had moved in good circles before he had made his début in this strange part of the world. Inez possessed the same charming simplicity which had distinguished her in her earlier years, though she was more reserved, as was natural with her. She extended her hand to Sanders, who gave it a gentle pressure, while he said:
“When I saw the signal fluttering up there I suspected 189 there were persons here who wanted help, but I never dreamed that we should find you.”
“And why not me as well as any one else?” asked Inez, with a smile. “Is there any reason why I shouldn’t have misfortune the same as other persons? If there is any such rule, I have never heard of it.”
“I know of none; but shipwreck, as a general thing––and certainly in the case of your companions––has been a great injury to them. They look emaciated and ill, and the captain is surely injured in the mind. But you––why––well, never mind.”
Fred laughed and broke down, for he really meant to say nothing that could be construed into flattery or impertinence. There was an air of goodness and refinement about the girl which compelled the respect, for the time at least, of the wild youth.
“I am so glad you have come,” said Inez, without commenting upon his last words; “for though I have been as cheerful as I could, it has been mainly on account of the captain and Mr. Storms. I saw how dejected they were, and tried to cheer them as best I could.”
“Which was very kind in you. But, thank heaven! it is all over now, and I hope we shall soon bear you away from this place, that no doubt has become so detestable in your eyes that you never want to see it again.”
“I cannot say how dreadful it is and how much I dislike it. The ship which ought to have taken us away as it brought us, was broken to pieces on the beach, and the mutineers, who thirsted for our lives, were drowned when almost in reach, as may be said, of the shore.”
Here was some more unexpected information that greatly interested Fred Sanders, who began to think he would get at all the facts by interviewing each member of the little company.
Mr. Storms heard the remark of Inez; but, while he regretted it––on the ground that it might raise some more uncomfortable suspicions––he did not care particularly, for the sad story was one that could easily be told, and upon which he was ready for cross-examination. But what more interested him at that moment was the fact that Captain Bergen just then reached the cabin, and, instead of stopping within, passed on beyond.
The conclusion of Storms was natural that he had gone to the upper part of the island to dig up the pearls; in which case, in his peculiar mental condition, he would, most likely, lose them all. This would never do, and the mate excused himself, saying:
“I am a little uneasy respecting the captain, and I will leave you two here while I look after him.”
Fred Sanders saluted him, and told the truth when 191 he said he would forgive his departure with pleasure; with which the ragged mate went hurrying after the ragged captain.
“Won’t you step on board the proa for a little while?” asked Fred, who was rather tired of standing on the sand under the palm-trees. “As it is to be your dwelling-place for a few days, you may like to select your apartments.”
Inez said she would be glad to do so, and Fred uttered some sharp exclamation, which caused both of the dusky natives to spring to their feet and hasten to the side of the proa nearest the shore, where they waited the chance to help her aboard. Inez noticed that the islanders were muscular, athletic fellows, with such a peculiar appearance that she could not avoid staring at them for a few seconds. Each was fully six feet in height––an unusual stature among the South Sea Islanders––and their breasts, arms and legs were tattooed with all sorts of figures and representations. Since these portions of their anatomy were uncovered, the singular ornamentation was very prominent.
They had the curious tattooing on their cheeks, noses and foreheads, so that their appearance was repellent. Besides this, their teeth were black, their noses large and flat, and their mouths wider than there was any necessity for. Their heads were bare, 192 and, indeed, were furnished by nature with all the covering they could need. The hair was very long, but frizzly, so that as it curled up about their ears and crowns, it formed an immense bushy screen, which gave their heads prodigious size. Their hands and feet were very large, and it would have been hard, in short, to discover anything in their looks that could attract a person toward them. Surveying them dispassionately, one could not help suspecting they belonged to a tribe of cannibals.
However, Inez did not show any repulsion which she might have felt, but stepping close to the proa took the extended hand, and sprang lightly aboard of the strange craft. The natives immediately withdrew, leaving the young captain, as he appeared to be, to conduct the fair visitor around the “ship,” whose dimensions did not require much time to investigate.
Fred explained that the proa was a vessel peculiar to the Indian and Central Pacific oceans, and that it could sail with great swiftness, going either forward or backward with equal readiness. It is a favorite boat used for inter-communication between hundreds of the islands of the South Seas, and the Malays employ them in a different form for their piratical expeditions. They owe their swiftness mainly to the fact that they stand so high out of the water, are very narrow, and present such a large surface to the wind.
“They are good for short voyages,” said Fred, “but I shouldn’t want to start for New York or Liverpool in one of them.”
“How long will it take us to reach the island from which you came?” asked Inez.
“If we start early to-morrow morning, with a good wind, we ought to be there at the end of two days.”
This was shorter time than he had given Mate Storms, but he was now striving to speak the truth.
“And suppose we are overtaken by one of those terrible tempests which sometimes visit this part of the world?”
“We cannot escape the risk, no matter where we are. The storm that would sink a proa might cause a seventy-four to founder, and the only way you can shun danger is to stay here all your life. I hardly think that such is your wish, Miss Inez.”
“No; I am as anxious to leave as are Mr. Storms and the captain. Indeed, I think I am more so, for I understand that they expect to wait until to-morrow morning, while if I had my wish I would start this very hour.”
“We are at the disposal of yourself and friends,” Sanders courteously responded; “but the reason for delay is that thereby we expect to be compelled to spend but a single night on the voyage, while if we started now we should have two.”