By this time Philip had taken hasty counsel with his friends and had decided to take the captain on shore if he would come, but that none of them would board that awful ship again under any pretence. So they sheered alongside, caught again the rope that was flung them and received a heap of goods, the captain and two men following. Then they headed for the beach with a sigh of relief, for the very proximity of the ship was hateful to them. They soon reached the landing place, the captain and his two henchmen looking very white as the ably handled boat was deftly guided stern foremost over the immense breakers, and stepping ashore uncertainly as the ready arms of the islanders were held out to them.
But no sooner had they landed than the captain and his two men began to swagger and ogle the women and girls who crowded down to the beach intent upon welcome. C. B. was close beside the skipper as he reached forward to clasp a beautiful girl near him by the waist. Lithe as a leopard the boy sprang between the maiden and the captain, crying as he did so: “That’s my sister, sir, and anyhow you mustn’t touch our girls; you are not good enough!”
Well, wasn’t that foolish man angry? he made a sweeping motion with his arm as if to brush an insect from his path, but C. B. seized him by both hands and held him so firmly that he was unable to move, saying at the same time, “Please behave yourself, sir; we won’t hurt you, but you must not go on ugly like this.” The two men who were with the captain looked frightened—for they were thinking of massacres in the South Seas of which they had often heard and doubtless expected something of the kind. The skipper however knew better, and acted worse, for he raged like a madman, the islanders standing round looking grave and stem while all the women folk slipped away. When he had cursed himself out of breath C. B. spoke again: “Now, sir, if you are ready we’ll take you back to your ship. We want to trade badly enough, but it’s almost paying too dearly for the privilege, having men like you among us. We are very sorry for you, but wish you would go.”
No one of the islanders added anything, for they felt as if C. B. had exactly expressed what they would say and for a few moments there was a dead silence. Then the captain said in a curiously subdued voice: “I don’t know but what you’re right after all, young fellow, whoever you are, and I apologize. I didn’t intend to act so ugly, believe me. And now if you’ll bring along your produce we’ll trade, for I ought to be getting back to my ship.” Immediately following upon his words, and without an order being given, there was a dispersal of the islanders, who soon reappeared laden with all the things they had to sell: vegetables, fruit, eggs, fowls and pigs, all that sailors most eagerly desire after a long voyage.
It was an easy market, for there was practically no haggling, and when all the goods that the captain had brought were exhausted, the kindly folk presented him with the rest of the produce which was left, an act of generosity which deepened the tan on his face as he, even he, realized what a contrast there was between his behaviour and theirs. But I do not know that he was so very much to blame after all, for it was probably the first time he had come across practical primitive Christianity in full operation. However, as he turned to leave the beach again he held out his hand to C. B., saying: “Youngster, I’m ashamed of myself, that’s all I can say. I shall remember to-day as long as I live. And I want to tell that splendid fellow the same, the man whom I spoke so badly to in my saloon.”
“Oh, you mean my father,” said C. B. “Here he is!” and Philip stepped forward, a gentle smile on his face, and his hand outstretched, saying as he came, “Don’t bother about me, sir, I’m only sorry that you should be afflicted with such a hasty temper and disbelief in the goodness of anybody. But please say no more. If you are ready to go on board we are ready to take you.”
“Ah, I don’t wonder you want to get rid of me,” murmured the skipper sorrowfully; “how you’ve put up with me so long I don’t know. All I know is that you’ve made me feel as I’ve never done before, and I’d love to stay here and take a few lessons from you good folks how to live. But I must get back to the hog-trough again, I suppose. Come along, the sooner I get aboard the better,” and he strode firmly towards the boat.
Philip and his son looked at each other for a moment irresolutely, the same thought in each of their minds, should they ask him to stay and see their dear old pastor who would speak words of comfort to his tortured soul? But the time had passed, all hands were in the boat save the steersman, and Philip sprang to his place while the waiting crowd ran the buoyant craft out into the foaming surf and the long oars drove her strenuously through the tormented waters, forcing her out to the smooth sea beyond. Once out of the surf the rowers settled down into the long, regular swing of deep sea oarsmen, and they rapidly neared the vessel. She lay lazily rolling to the heavy swell with her mainyard to the mast, but not a sign of life about her, for all the crowd on board. But as the boat swung alongside the mate sprang on to the rail and shouted his orders, a rope was flung, the side ladder lowered and the skipper climbed aboard, saying as he did so, “Come up, Mr. Boat-steerer, and I’ll treat ye different, see if I don’t.”
But Philip gravely declined. He did not care to run any such risks, knowing from much previous experience how soon such impressions as the captain had received are apt to change with a different scene. And the captain did not repeat his invitation. Turning to the mate he ordered all dispatch to be made in getting the stores on board, then abruptly left the side and the boat’s crew saw him no more. In a very few minutes the boat was cleared and as soon as she was empty Philip shouted, “Cast off that rope.” It was done and with a powerful sweep of the steer oar they swept away from the ship’s side, and shipping their oars bent to them with a will, every man of them feeling glad to put an increasing distance between them and the hive of evil they felt the ship to be.