“The two daughters are white, as you say, but not so white are the warriors.”
There was a general laugh at this remark. Etta spoke up for her bronzed father and the two sailors, saying, “they are indeed darker than we, but the rays of the sun made them so, while we live indoors.”
The sailors were indeed very much sun-burned, while Captain Gray was naturally a very dark man. There was no denying the fact that they presented a strong contrast to the two girls, who were both fair, with light hair, particularly Mabel, whose complexion was extremely delicate. On attempting to talk with the other natives, Captain Gray was surprised to find that they understood but a word or two of what was said to them.
“You have not told us yet: are there other of our people living on your island?”
“No, not of your people. My father speaks your tongue. He has taught me to speak it also, but he is of our people.”
“But, if he speaks English he must be an American or an Englishman,” cried Mabel.
“No, said I, not, he is my father. How is he of your people beyond the rising of Ka La. No waa, in all my life before, ever came to our land, nor heard I of any that ever came.”
“But is he dark, like you, or white like us?” persists Mabel, feeling sure that his father must be a white man, having noticed that all of the natives with him were much darker than he.
“He is as thy father,” answered Ahleka, pointing to Captain Gray.
“This is not my father, my father is beyond the rising of the sun. This is the father of my friend,” she said, pointing to Etta.