"Looks as though we were expected," Jack declared. "Look at the crowd down there by the wharf."
"It's quite an event for a boat to come in," his uncle told him.
"You're sure they're peaceful?" Bob asked a bit anxiously, as the boat came near enough for him to see the dark skins and scanty attire of the natives.
"You're not afraid, are you?" Mr. Lakewood asked in a tone of surprise.
"No," Bob told him. "I'm not afraid only, you know, I always had an idea that I'd make pretty good soup and——"
"Don't let him razz you, Uncle," Jack interrupted. "When you see Bob afraid you can know there's something to be afraid of."
By this time the boat was only a few yards away from the long flimsy looking pier, which reached out some fifty feet into the sea and Pat rang to reverse, and a moment later, her side brushed the end of the structure and a half dozen, all but naked, natives eagerly caught the line thrown them by one of the deck hands. Scarcely was the boat tied up, when a short pompous appearing man, clad in a somewhat soiled suit of white duck, pushed his way through the crowd.
"Welcome," he shouted as soon as he had reached the edge of the wharf.
"Thanks," Mr. Lakewood smiled as he stepped ashore and grasped the man's outstretched hand.
From the deference paid him by the natives, the boys judged that the white clad man must be the head man of the island or, at least, someone high in authority. A moment later their uncle introduced them, and, somewhat to their surprise, they learned that Mr. Umgubsolongas spoke almost perfect English with only the faintest trace of a soft slightly slurring accent.