CHAPTER V
AMONG THE ISLANDS
Many masters of our beautiful language have endeavoured to depict the glories of a morning among the South Sea Islands, and I am in no mood to emulate their achievements. I can only say that when Frank, after a long night’s sleep, the first really satisfying sleep he had enjoyed for five months, arose at the call of “Coffee” at 5 A.M., he emerged into a sense of loveliness that, boy as he was, sank into his very soul. The atmosphere was so sweet and pure, the odour of the land so entrancing, the beauty of the islands and limpid seas so far beyond anything he had ever dreamed of, that he found himself wonderingly comparing his surroundings with what he remembered of his childish dreams of heaven.
But he was rudely awakened from these unwonted visions by the hoarse voice of the mate shouting “Turn to.”
He hastily gulped down his coffee, regretted his loss of a smoke, and strode out on deck ready for work. The men forrard made no sign of their existence, and after waiting about two minutes Mr. Jenkins turned to the second mate and said, “Go forrard, Mr. Cope, and give those fellows a rouse. I s’pose they’ve overslept.”
The second mate marched to the forecastle door and reiterated the mate’s order to “Turn to,” but was met with a volley of oaths and evil advice as to his future.
He made no reply, but returned and reported to the mate, who immediately seized an iron belaying-pin and was about to rush forward when he was stopped by the second mate, who seized his arm, and pointed to the space between the ship and the beach, where only a very short distance away a whaleboat was coming at a great rate directly towards them.
“It’s the old man,” said the second mate in a low tone, “and he seems to have a pretty gang with him. I shouldn’t wonder if he means mischief; at this time in the morning, too.”
The mate looked thoughtfully at the boat for a moment, and then turning to the second mate said quietly, “I believe you’re right; at any rate I’ll get ready for emergencies before they arrive, and you’d better do the same.”
So they both hurried into the saloon, and seeking their berths, charged their revolvers and pocketed them; then coming on deck, the mate awaited calmly the arrival of the boat alongside with the skipper, who had gone ashore overnight in the first boat that was available. He had not long to wait, for the boat, propelled by four stalwart natives, dashed alongside in great style, and the mate standing on the gangway saw to his disgust that the superior officer was drunk, and that he was accompanied by three men who had “beach-comber,” or unattached loafer, writ large upon them. However he waited quietly until the skipper swayingly mounted the rail, then said calmly, “Good morning, Captain Swainson.”