CHAPTER VII
“Twenty dollars is not much of a stand-by in a town like Apia or Levuka,” I said gravely, as I looked at her now animated features. “Living there is very expensive—as I know to my sorrow—and unless you have friends at either place, you would have to go to an hotel in the first place.”
“I am not afraid, Mr. Sherry. And I am not jesting about the hat-making. All of my mother's family were very expert at it, and quite often I have seen as much as twenty-five or thirty Mexican dollars paid for one of our hats. We could have sold ten times the number had we been able to have made more.”
“Where was this?” I asked, with interest.
“At Agana, in the Marianas. My father lived there for many years. He was a very poor man, and had a hard struggle to get along with such a large family. So we all had to help him as much as we could. He was an Englishman named Arundel, and was in some Government employment in Rangoon. I do not remember exactly what it was, but think he was connected with maritime matters, for I remember that he had many nautical books, and used to go away frequently in the Government steamers to Perak and Singapore. I can scarcely remember my mother, for she died when I, who was the youngest of the family, was about six years old. But I think she was of Dutch-Javanese parentage, for sometimes she would speak to us children in both languages, and I remember her being very dark. Soon after she died, my father—who was always of a restless disposition I suppose—either gave up, or lost his employment in Rangoon, and taking us with him, settled on Tinian, in the Marianas, where he had something to do with cattle. But we did not remain there permanently; we were always moving about from one island to another—sometimes we would be living at Saipan, sometimes at Rota, and sometimes at Agana, in Guam. At this last place—which I love dearly—we were very happy, although we were so poor.”
She stopped somewhat abruptly, and added that it was at this place she had met Krause, who came to the Marianas from Manila, on behalf of his firm, who had a large establishment at the latter city.
“I should like to see the Marianas—or the Ladrones, as we traders call them,” I said. “There is a very dear friend of mine now living at San Anlaccio in Guam——”
“What is his name?” she asked quickly.
“José Otano. He was mate of a New Bedford whaler.”