“Fear not, Wahine, Langi and your great White God are with us.” So spake Hawahee as, with his hand arched over his eyes, he carefully scanned the boundless skylines. Sestrina did not gaze across the seas, but she scanned Hawahee’s face, and knew by its expression and by his eyes that no sail was in sight. And still Sestrina hoped on. And did Hawahee hope on? No! It was only for the girl’s sake that he would wish to sight a sail on those solitary tropic seas. He well knew that should a passing vessel come to rescue him and his comrades, the crew would, on discovering that they were lepers, flee from the Belle Isle in terror. And so it was for Sestrina’s sake only that he watched the skylines with hope.
The Belle Isle had been drifting exactly twelve days when something happened that lessened the tenor of their position. Hawahee was staring seaward. The wild splendour of sunset’s burnished light along the western horizon had subdued the brilliance of the tropic day, so that the skyline to the south-west was visible to the ocean’s apparent remotest rim. Hawahee suddenly startled Sestrina by shouting, “Look, Wahine!”
Sestrina stared over the side, her hair blowing wildly about her shoulders as the steady breeze slashed her form.
“What is it? quick, tell me,” she said as she still gazed eagerly, her hand arched over her eyes as she stared and stared. Again Hawahee pointed to the south-west. It was then that Sestrina caught the first glimpse of a bluish blotch that looked like a tiny cloud on the remote skyline. It was land! The Haytian girl’s pulses leapt with joy. She burst into tears, so intense was her delight in the thought that she would see the solid earth again and the faces of men and women, with happy eyes, beings who enjoyed the air they breathed in the glorious thrill of healthy life. Such were the half-formed thoughts that swept through Sestrina’s excited mind. But why did a shadow creep over Hawahee’s face? Why did he fear the sight of strong, health-loving men who thanked God for the health and liberty which they shared in common with the insects of the air. Ah, why? Hawahee and his comrades well knew that they were loathsome outcasts of creation. He knew that, were there civilised men on the isle (for such was the land towards which the schooner was fast drifting), he and his comrades would be captured and chained like felons so that they could be safely re-shipped and sent away to the terrible lazaretto, the dread Leper Isle—Molokai.
As Hawahee watched, the shadow passed from his face; his eyes re-brightened. There was yet hope for him and his comrades. It was quite possible that the isle they saw was one of the hundreds of uninhabited isles of the South Pacific Ocean. Hawahee did not fear the savages who might inhabit such an isle. He knew that they would be quite ignorant of the contagious nature of the scourge from which he and his companions suffered. Sestrina heard him give a sigh of relief as he stood there and watched. She guessed not why he sighed so. Sestrina was only an inexperienced girl after all. In the first thrill of excitement and hope over sighting that little blue blotch on the skyline, she had wondered if it might not be the shores of Hawaii—Honolulu! Poor Sestrina!
Ere the eastern stars had begun to bespangle the heavens, Hawahee lifted his hands and murmured a hasty prayer to Kuahilo and the great Hawaiian goddess Pelé. For he had distinctly made out a lonely isle. There it was, far away to the south-west, the foams of the beating seas that swept over its coral reefs distinctly visible. He was saved! The hands of wrathful men would not grip him and his comrades and place gyves on their limbs. He would yet enjoy the freedom of the hills before the pollution of his mortal tenement made him cry to God out of the greatest sorrow that can well come to men in this world. And, as the Hawaiian reflected, he beckoned to Sestrina.
“Yes, Hawahee?” she said timidly, as she gazed up into his handsome face in wonder, watching his eyes from some dread of her own mind. The fact is, that she knew not whether the proximity of the isle was a blessing to Hawahee, or whether he would attempt to alter the course of the schooner so that he and his comrades could risk the horrors of the ocean rather than fall into the hands of their fellow-men again.
To the girl’s delight, he looked kindly upon her, and said, “Go thou, my child, into the cuddy, and bring unto me all those old ropes that we have stored in readiness for such a pass as this.”
The ocean swell was still heavy, so heavy that it often lifted the schooner up on her beam ends. Hawahee knew that if the Belle Isle struck the reefs of that far-away isle’s shore and so became solid with the land, the seas would dash over her and sweep them all away.
“Wahine, keep near me,” he said, as he ran about, making hasty preparations for the coming shock. All the while Hawahee was making these preparations, the stricken lepers were standing by the bulwark side, beating their hands and chanting in a strange way. Two of the blind men seemed to be demented, for they began to jump about and dance in a grotesque manner on the deck.