'Ship ahoy!'
The Maori was up in an instant, his seaman's eye took one quick glance at the dark, towering mass of canvas not two hundred yards away, and almost right abeam. Seizing the tiller from Charlie, he called out sharply--
''Bout ship, in with the mainsheet there; she's close-hauled, and we'll catch her up in no time. Give another hail, Charlie. Mr. Wallis, take this lamp, stand up for'ard and sway it; hold it up as high as you can.'
Round went the boat, and then, to their intense delight, at Charlie's second hail, and as Tom swayed his light, an answering cry came from the ship--
'Boat ahoy, there! We see you,' followed by the rattle and squeaking of blocks as the ship's braces were let go, and her main-yard swung back. Then a bright light was shown from the weather mizzen rigging, and a voice hailed--
'Are you able to come alongside? I've lost three of my boats, and the other two are badly damaged.'
'Yes, thank you,' answered Bill, as he and Charlie lowered the mast and sail; 'we'll pull alongside.'
Ten minutes later, Tom and his companions were standing on the deck of the barque Adventurer, of New Bedford, Captain Frank Herrendeen, a typical American whaling skipper, who received them very kindly, his first question being whether they were hungry.
'No, sir,' replied Tom, who, at Bill's suggestion, acted as spokesman; and then, in as few words as possible, he told their story, adding, 'We have suffered no hardships whatever since we left the island, and were making for Fiji. Where are you bound for, captain?'
'Fotuna Island. Won't that suit you?' he inquired, noticing the look of disappointment on their faces.