By this time the hills of Raratonga were beginning to look less like blue clouds and more like real mountains; gradually as the canoes drew nearer, the markings on them became more and more defined, until at last everything was distinctly visible—rocky eminences and luxuriant valleys, through which flowed streams and rivulets that glittered brightly in the light of the ascending sun, and almost constrained Jarwin to shout with delight, for he gazed upon a scene more lovely by far than anything that he had yet beheld in the Southern Seas.
Chapter Seven.
Our Hero is Exposed to Stirring Influences and Trying Circumstances.
When the four canoes drew near to the island, immense numbers of natives were seen to assemble on the beach, so that Big Chief deemed it advisable to advance with caution. Presently a solitary figure, either dressed or painted black, advanced in front of the others and waved a white flag. This seemed to increase the Chief’s anxiety, for he ordered the men to cease paddling.
Jarwin, whose heart had leaped with delight when he saw the dark figure and the white flag, immediately turned round and said—
“You needn’t be afraid, old boy; that’s the missionary, I’ll be bound, in his black toggery, an’ a white flag means ‘peace’ among Cookee men.”
On hearing this, the Chief gave the order to advance, and Jarwin, seizing a piece of native cloth that lay near him, waved it round his head.
“Stop that, you Breetish tar!” growled Big Chief, seizing a huge club, which bristled with shark’s teeth, and shaking it at the seaman, while his own teeth were displayed in a threatening grin.