She prayed for strength and for hope.
Both came. Early one morning, even before she had left her cot, a suggestion appeared to come floating across her mind, and she determined to act upon it at once.
There were several reverend old men among the islanders, who had always been looked up to by their juniors and inferiors. They had been seers, in a manner of speaking—seers and fetishmen. But they had, under the ministry of Leona, abandoned all pretensions of being seers, and cast the fetish behind them.
These men were voluble speakers. Why not teach them specially, and train them to preach? She carried out the idea, and elected Wooma, the most earnest and eloquent of them, to be pastor of the island; the others would also preach occasionally, but in other respects they would be elders of the Palm-Leaf Church.
The plan succeeded beyond her utmost expectations.
Antonio made Wooma a present of a little harmonium that he had on board, and taught an elder to lead the music, while a choir of black boys and girls took up the singing.
Leona now felt assured that the good seed sown, and which had taken root so speedily and so firmly, would spring up and nourish like a green bay-tree. He who rules on earth and in heaven, she told herself, would not permit that tree to wither and perish.
. . . . . .
In another month’s time the Zingara was being got ready for sea once again.
Her cargo was not a heavy one, but it was very valuable; and as they passed through that mist of islands which dot the Pacific Ocean almost from the western coast of South America to the far Philippine Isles and the rugged shores of Borneo, they would have ample opportunity of adding to their cargo.