I BECOME A SARGASSON.
Soon after the events narrated in the previous chapter I was busy at noonday taking an observation as to our exact latitude and longitude, when Fidette came running to me with the astonishing announcement that a large galley was coming down the Grand Canal, making straight for the Happy Shark. I laid down my quadrant and called all the men to quarters. I had no means of knowing whether the call was a friendly or unfriendly one. Our boats were not entirely completed, and, had they been, we could not have offered any real resistance to this large war canoe with its thirty men.
The first mate was sent forward to speak to the craft as soon as she came within hailing distance, and he returned with the information that the men in command of the boat bore a communication from the High Priest of the Sacred Fire. We were summoned, Fidette and I, to the august presence, in order that the religious marriage ceremonies might be performed.
Here was a perilous situation for me.
Nearly three days would be required for the complete journey, during which I had no guarantee that my men would not overthrow my supremacy. I likewise doubted the good faith of the High Priest, and of the barbarians he had sent to conduct us to him. When, however, the formidable document was passed over the ship’s side and Fidette had carefully scrutinized the writing upon the tarpon scales, she decided that we dare not disregard the command.
The thought promptly suggested itself to me that the crew of the Unk-ta-hee, as the Priest’s barge was called, should be invited on board and fed. I was about to give an order to that effect, when, fortunately, I consulted the first mate, and learned that such a custom is entirely unheard of in Sargasso—the distrust being so general that no Kantoon would seriously contemplate inviting more than two or three strange men on board his ship at one time. I then saw that the visiting boat had come fully provisioned, for the men began to eat their midday meal while they rested.
Naturally, Fidette desired to present herself in as attractive a manner as possible before the Archimandrite of the floating monastery. This strange and mysterious place was an object of dread to most of the inhabitants of the archipelagic community. It was never visited by any citizen of Sargasso, except on just such occasions as this, and the strictest secrecy was always enjoined upon those who had been there.
In less than an hour after the formal command of the High Priest had been delivered to us, I had placed my ship in charge of the first mate, and, taking with me only a few articles of wearing apparel and my chronometer and quadrant (which I had never allowed to go out of my possession for an instant since their return to me), I awaited Fidette outside her cabin, prepared to make the voyage on the Unk-ta-hee.
This boat was about sixty feet long, fashioned from a solid tree trunk, and resembled an African war canoe.
The dear little woman lingered over her toilet. She knew the hardships of the journey, and brought with her some sea-grass blankets. Finally she appeared, and, tripping across the deck of the Happy Shark toward me, she waved an adieu to all her old shipmates. The spectacle affected me very deeply. These grizzly men, most of whom had known Fidette from her earliest infancy, were affected to boisterous laughter—that being the Sargasson method of expressing sorrow.