In a few minutes it was decided that the boat should return to the shore, where Raymond was to see the chief and arrange with him to provide five or six well-manned taunwalua, which Frewen said should be alongside to receive the tow-lines within two or three hours.
As he (Frewen) was about to go over the side Ryan made a half apology for the ship's crew carrying arms, at which the young man smiled and said—
“Oh, a good many captains that touch at Samoa for the first time keep their crews armed, imagining the natives might try to cut them off. But the Samoans are a different kind of people to the savages of the Western Pacific; there has only been one ship cut off in this group, and that must have occurred fifty years ago. ”{**}
* These boats are usually built from the wood of the
breadfruit-tree. Not a single nail is used in their
construction; every plank is joined to its fellow by
lashings of coconut fibre.
** A fact.
Just as he had taken his seat beside Raymond and Cheyne, the Greek said politely—
“If there is no necessity for both of you gentlemen to go on shore again, won't one of you stay on board and have some supper?”
This was just the invitation that Frewen was looking for, but he appeared to hesitate for a moment or two.
“Thank you, captain, I think I will. There is certainly nothing for me to do on shore that my partner cannot do as well or better than myself. And I should like to hear any news from Europe that you may have to tell.”
As he clambered up the side again the boat pushed off, and the stalwart native crew sent her, now she was lightened of her load of provisions, skimming through the water.
When the American returned to the quarter-deck, Ryan introduced to him “Mr. Foster, my second mate,” and added that in addition to the misfortune of losing twelve of his crew when coming through the Paumotu Group, his chief officer had accidentally shot himself, and shattered his collar-bone.