And his last words were these:
“’Ngaloo is the greatest king in all the world. Don’t forget ’Ngaloo. Come again and see the greatest king in all the world. Don’t forget Ngaloo.”
“I’m not likely to,” said Harry, shaking hands again.
Then away he went, laughing.
And the march northwards was commenced at once.
Two of the men of the Bunting had to be carried a great part of the way, but they got stronger and stronger as the time went on, and could soon both stand and walk.
They found the boats precisely where they had left them, and in a few hours all were back once more—though sadly thinned in ranks—at their homes in the hundred islands.
Raggy, rejoiced beyond measure, met them at the beach. He was not content with shaking hands with his old messmates; shaking hands was slow work.
Raggy must dance. And dance he did, a regular sailor’s hornpipe.
“As sure as I’m alive, by Heaven’s mercy,” said Nicholls, the bo’s’n, “I think I could dance a bit myself.”