But Amatua’s little head was far too full of something else for him to bother about another man-of-war. Bostock had promised to take him to the raft where men were diving for the Trenton’s treasure-chest. He knew all about men-of-war by this time, for he had the freedom of the Nipsic’s ward-room, and he took breakfast regularly with his friends, the officers. They had given him a gold-laced cap and a tin sword, and the tailor had made him a blue jacket with shoulder-straps and brass buttons and the stripes of a second lieutenant. He had his own appointed station when the ship beat to quarters; for the Nipsic had been got safely off the reef and once more divided the waters of the bay.
It was a beautiful morning when they pulled out in a shore boat to the raft where the work was in progress. As the Americans possessed no diving apparatus, Kane, the British captain, had lent them the one he carried, with six good men who had some experience in such matters. Amatua was disappointed to find so little to interest him. He examined the pump with which two men were keeping life in the diver below; but he could not understand the sense of it, and the continuous noise soon grew monotonous. Except a tin pail containing the men’s lunch, the brass-bound breaker of drinking water, and some old clothes, there was nothing in the world to attract a small boy. Amatua stood beside Bostock and yawned; the little second lieutenant longed to be on shore playing marbles with his friends in civil life. He was half asleep when Bostock plucked his arm and pointed into the depths beneath. A glittering shell-fish of ponderous weight and monstrous size was slowly rising to the surface. Every one rushed to the side of the raft, save only the two men at the pumps, who went on unmoved. Amatua clung to Bostock. Higher and higher came the hideous shell-fish, until its great, goggling-eyed head appeared horribly above the water. Amatua turned faint. The crew behaved with incredible daring, and seized the huge, bulging thing with the utmost fearlessness. It was frightful to see it step on the raft and toil painfully to the centre, as though it had been wounded in some mortal part. One of the men lifted a hammer as though to kill it, and began to tap, tap, tap on some weak spot in the neck. Then he threw down the hammer, detached the long suckers which reached from the beast’s snout, and started to unscrew its very head from its body. Amatua looked on confounded; he was shaking with horror, yet the fascination of that brassy monster drew him close.
Suddenly the creature sank on its knees, and the man gripped the head in both his hands and lifted it up. And underneath, wonder of wonders! there was the face of a man—a white man.
And the white man was Bill!
With a cry Amatua threw himself into his friend’s arms, dripping though he was. What did he care for the fine uniform, now that Bill was found again!
“And where have you been all this time?” asked Bostock.
“Oh, I’m the boatswain’s mate of the Calliope,” said Bill; “and what with the knocking about we got, I’ve been kept hard at it on the rigging.”
“You have been badly missed,” said Bostock.
“Bless his old heart!” said the sailor, “I think a lot of my little Am.”