As for Frank himself, he was very well satisfied with what he had done, and often declared that an adventure which, at first, threatened to terminate in something serious, had had a most agreeable ending. His forced sojourn on the Tycoon and all the incidents that had happened during that time—the sight of the first whale he ever struck coming up on a breach close in front of his boat, and looming up in the air like a church steeple; the excessive fatigue that followed the long hours spent in cutting in and trying out; the sleepless nights; the days and weeks of suspense he had endured; the race and the desperate battle under a broiling sun he had had in Mr. Gale’s boat on the day Captain Barclay deserted him; the fight with the natives at the Mangrove Islands, and the rescue of the prisoners—all these things would have seemed like a dream to Frank now, had it not been for the large callous spots on the palms of his hands, which had been brought there by handling heavy oars and by constant pulling at tarred ropes. The sight of these recalled very forcibly to his mind the days and nights of toil which sometimes tested his strength and endurance so severely that he hardly expected to live through them. Nothing could have tempted him to submit to the same trials again, but now that they were all over and he was safe among friends once more, he would not have sold his experience at any price.
The Stranger remained at the Sandwich Islands three weeks, and during that time the boys saw everything of interest there was to be seen. Eugene, who was impatient to get ashore to see how the “savages” lived, was quite astonished when his brother informed him that the natives were considered to be the most generally educated people in the world; that there was scarcely a man, woman, or child of suitable age among them who could not read and write; that they had contributed a goodly sum of money to the Sanitary Commission during our late war; that they had sent a good many men to serve in our army and navy; and that among them were a brigadier-general, a major, and several officers of lower grade. Eugene could hardly believe it; but when he got ashore and saw the fine hotel erected by the government at a cost of one hundred and twenty thousand dollars, the prison, hospital, churches, and school-houses, he was obliged to confess that he was among civilized people. Frank and Archie were equally astonished at the familiar appearance of things, and told their Southern friends that if they could imagine how Honolulu would look without the bananas, palm, and tamarind trees, they could tell exactly how the majority of New England villages looked.
The first Sunday the Club spent ashore they went to the seaman’s chapel to hear Father Damon preach to the sailors; and the next day they hired horses, a pack-mule, and guides for a ride around the island. This was a great relief to them, especially to Dick and Bob, for it gave them a taste of the frontier life to which they had so long been accustomed. They were all glad to find themselves on horseback once more; so they journeyed very leisurely, and the ride, which could easily have been accomplished in four days, consumed the best part of eight.
Having explored Oahu pretty thoroughly, the Club returned on board the Stranger, which set sail for Hilo in the island of Hawaii, which place they reached after a rough passage of four days. At Hilo—the town has been devastated by a tidal wave since the Club visited it—they had their first view of a sport for which the natives of these islands are so famous—swimming with the surf-board. It was a fine, not to say a thrilling sight to see a party of men, some of whom were lying, others kneeling, and still others standing erect upon boards which seemed scarcely large enough to support their weight, shooting towards the beach with almost railroad speed, closely followed by a huge comber that seemed every instant to be on the point of overwhelming them. The grace and skill exhibited by the swimmers made the feat appear very easy of accomplishment, and after watching the bathers for a few minutes, Eugene declared that he could do it as well as anybody, and dared Archie to get a board somewhere and go into the water with him.
“Find a board yourself, and see if I am afraid to follow where you dare lead,” was Archie’s prompt reply; and to show that he meant what he said, he pulled off his jacket and threw it on the sand.
“Now, Archie,” remonstrated Frank, “I wouldn’t undertake anything I was certain to make a failure of, if I were you. You can’t get beyond the surf to save your life.”
“I’d like to know if I can’t duck my head and let a billow pass over me as well as anybody?”
“No, you can’t.”
“There’s where you are mistaken. You’ll see. Our countrymen can dive deeper and come out drier than any people in the world, not even excepting these Sandwich Islanders. I’ll go as far as my leader goes, you may rely upon that. Say, Mr. Kanaker,” added Archie, approaching a stalwart swimmer who had just been landed high and dry by a huge billow, “you gives me board, I gives you, quarter, eh?”
The native smiled good-naturedly and astonished Archie by replying in plain English, and in much better terms than he had used—