The attentions shown us by these remarkable birds, however, soon caused us considerable inconvenience. They crowded upon us in such numbers that it was difficult to force our way through them, either farther on to the island or back to the boat. Some of them stood four feet high, and although they made no attempt to molest us, the bulk of their bodies (the ones at the back pressing upon those in front) made it difficult to push by. It was like passing along a densely-crowded thoroughfare. So numerous became the penguins that Hartog ordered a return to the boat. We did not like to kill these birds, as they appeared harmless, and the trust they showed in us was surprising. When we came to the landing place we found it covered with small fur-coated seals, who also showed no fear of us, and made no attempt to escape when we approached them. The skins of these creatures we knew to be rare and of value, so we were impelled to slaughter some of them for their fur coats, and also to give us a supply of fresh meat; but their large brown eyes looked at us so sorrowfully when we attacked them that we had not the heart to kill more than was necessary for our immediate needs. It was too much like murder.
The penguins followed us down to the landing-place, until it was full to overflowing. Some of the birds pushed the others into the water in their eagerness to witness the killing of the seals, which they appeared to be discussing with much interest.
A breeze springing up, we returned to the ship, and toward evening, still steering northward, the floating island was lost to view.
We were now in better spirits than heretofore. We had filled our water tanks from the ice floes, and supplied ourselves with sufficient fresh seal meat to last until we came to a warmer climate, to begin again our search for the Island of Gems. The men we had with us upon this voyage were a better class than were the crew of the "Endraght", and we had no fear of mutiny. There were grumblings occasionally at the length of the voyage, but these vanished at each fresh adventure. Sailors, as a rule, are easily led, and if there is no evil influence at work among them they seldom incline to mutiny when they know that the safety of all depends upon discipline and obedience to the captain's orders.
CHAPTER XIV
AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE
Most of the islands we visited on our return to the South Seas we found to be inhabited. But some, although well-wooded, and possessing a luxuriant vegetation, were unoccupied except by sea-fowl. It was toward one of these islands we now directed our course in order to fill our water tanks, when we observed a solitary figure upon the beach whose hair and beard hung down in a tangled mass upon his chest and shoulders, while the skins of some small fur-coated animal, roughly sewn together, made him a covering for his body unlike any we had seen adopted by savage tribes. His attitude, moreover, as he stood upon the beach, shading his eyes and gazing intently at us as we rowed towards the shore, suggested the European rather than, the savage, and upon coming close up to him we knew him to be some castaway marooned upon the island. He appeared to have lost the power of speech, although he made guttural sounds when he saw us, and, what was more remarkable, he seemed to recognize us.
It then came to me in a flash that this solitary man was none other than Van Luck, whom we had last seen drifting away from the "Endraght" upon his lonely voyage after the mutiny, and, in pity at the sight of his forlorn condition, I held out my hand to him in reconciliation. So great, however, was his hatred of me, which he had probably nursed, that, instead of taking my hand, he rushed upon me and tried to strangle me, in which he might have succeeded had not others of our party come to my assistance. He seemed demented, and he had acquired such strength during his exile that it was as much as four men could do to hold him down. But, notwithstanding his unprovoked attack upon me, I felt I could not abandon him again to his solitude. I therefore ordered him to be taken on board our vessel, where Hartog would be the judge of his ultimate fate.
Hartog's surprise at seeing his old officer in such a deplorable condition was equal to my own, but the terrible change which years of solitude had wrought in Van Luck appealed to the humane side of the captain's nature so forcibly that he determined to give the castaway a chance of redemption.
After some days, during which Van Luck was cared for, he began to regain some semblance to his former self. He also, by degrees, remembered his native tongue, but he spoke in a halting manner like a child. While we remained at this island we visited the cave in which Van Luck had lived during the time he had been marooned. It contained nothing belonging to the boat in which he had been set adrift, from which we inferred the boat had been lost at the time when he was washed ashore. He seemed to have subsisted chiefly upon turtles, of which there were numbers basking upon the beach, and also upon a small species of squirrel, of the skins of which, roughly sewn together, his robe was made, but we could find no sign of a fire, so we concluded he had devoured his food raw. There were streams and springs on the islands from which to quench his thirst, but his sufferings must have been very severe during his enforced solitude, nor was it a matter for wonder that his mind had become deranged.