Quambo laughed, but Fred shuddered. What ghastly humour was hidden in those words!
But the poor savages were at once supplied with food and drink, and told that the white man was their friend, and that, although they must keep them on the island, it was only for the white man's safety, as they did not wish to be discovered.
It is to be presumed that Quambo proved a very faithful interpreter indeed; for the savages seized Fred's hand, and bending low pressed it for a moment to the forehead in a way that was most affectingly dignified.
Very much surprised, indeed, were both Cassia-bud and Hurricane Bob, who had been left as camp keepers, to see the party return in company with two tall and soldierly-looking savages. Bob at first seemed much inclined to resent the intrusion, but as soon as matters were explained to him he walked up to the new-comers and licked their hands, as much as to say, "So long as you're good you won't be touched, but I'm going to keep my eye on you."
That evening the prisoners were allowed to dine on the floor of the cottage, and appeared to adapt themselves at once to their new mode of life. They were afterwards shown their bed under a bush. Their canoe had been drawn up quite close to the garden gate. Quambo and Cassia-bud took it by turns to do sentry duty all night, but the weary savages slept soundly, and awoke happy, hungry, and contented.
After breakfast was over our castaways sat down under the shadow of the trees, and the savages were made to squat near them. They then told their story, and an interesting one it was.
Their home was in a group of islands far, far away to the west. While fishing they had been caught in a squall and blown out to sea. The weather had continued very thick and bad all night, and at daybreak they found themselves near to a strange island, and had therefore landed in quest of food and water. Had they ever seen white men before? they were asked. "Oh, yes!" they answered, holding up both hands, with fingers outspread to indicate the number ten. Ten men had come, many, many moons ago, to their islands in canoes. They were hungry and thin, and were accordingly housed and well fed, because the flesh of white men is so much sweeter than that of black. They had been well fed, better fed than pigs, the savages explained, but would not grow fat. But they began to teach the natives many curious things, and to heal the sick, and staunch blood, and do much good; so instead of being killed and cooked they were permitted to live, and were now slaves to the king on the far-away islands. Where these white men had come from, they were, of course, unable to tell. They had come from the sea, was all they were able to say for certain; and reckoning on their fingers and toes the time, counted by moons, would correspond pretty nearly with the date of the abandonment of the brig Resolute. Then Fred got Quambo to enquire what the white men looked like.
Quambo laughed when he received their reply.
"Like de debbil hisself," he explained, "suppose the debbil wore clothes."
Now Fred was a very fair artist in his way, for Eean had taught him the rudiments of drawing, and besides he seemed to have a natural gift for caricature; so on the fly-leaf of a book he sketched a very good likeness of the skipper of the Resolute—jacket, hat; hooknose, and goatee beard all complete—in fact as he had last seen him.