“Did not your father come from some far country?” inquired the captain.
“Yes. It is said by the people of our village that the fiku (fig) trees have been in blossom many, many times, since my father and two other Alii (chiefs) descended from pale mahina to dwell among our people. They spoke not as our people spoke, but soon learned our language. My father taught me your strange tongue as a pastime, and when I saw the faces of the mahina maidens I spoke it to them. But come let me take you to my father.”
“Not yet,” answered Captain Gray, “we have two more who belong to us and we must wait till they come back, and, besides that we have not eaten yet.”
On hearing this, Ahleka turned and spoke a few words to one of the natives, who quickly started in the direction of the boat. Another native set about rebuilding the fire. The native who had gone to the boat soon returned, bringing a bundle done up in large, green leaves. This he laid upon the ground and proceeded to open, having handed to one of the other natives a number of fish which he had also brought, strung upon a sharp stick. The fish were quickly dressed and wrapped in several layers of the large leaves, when they were placed in the hot ashes to cook, while out of the bundle were produced some delicious looking mangoes, some figs, a large bread fruit which was already cooked, and some tamarinds. These things were intended to be eaten by the fishermen at midday. They also had a couple of gourds to drink from. They quickly spread the meal, using the broad leaves for plates. The repast was almost prepared, when Allen and Harry were seen coming around the point towards the camp. Mabel and Etta ran forward to meet them, breathless to tell them of the strange events that had happened while they had been away. Allen could hardly believe the wonderful story; it seemed incredible that they should have found English-speaking Aborigines. The idea was almost weird. When he had reached Captain Gray and the rest of the party, he found it indeed true.
“Now that we are all together again we had best have something to eat. What have you there Allen?” asked the captain.
Allen had now cut open a couple of the papiea fruit and found them to be juicy and not unpleasant to the taste. They contained a large number of little shot-like seeds, which, at first, he thought to be the part of the fruit to be eaten, but soon found his mistake.
“Take of our food to eat,” said Ahleka, “and when you have eaten and rested, we will go to the village.”
“But do not you and your friends need the food for yourselves?” inquired the captain.
“No, not so, we shall not fish to-day, but shall go with you to my father,” saying which, Ahleka motioned to put the fish upon fresh leaves also, which was deftly done by the native boy who had been attending to the fire. The meal proved a delightful one, the fish juicy and toothsome, the bread fruit a pleasant change from hard tack, the fruits delicious. The gourds had been filled with clear water into which a number of tamarinds were dropped, making a cool, refreshing drink, somewhat acid to the taste.
After having done full justice to what had been provided for them, they began to feel as if, after all, their lot was not such a hard one; so reviving are the effects of a dainty meal.