On awaking, indeed, Otto saluted his brother with the exclamation—
“O Dom, I’ve had such a comical dream!”
“Indeed, my boy,” said Dominick, “I fear it was no dream, but a reality.”
At this Otto suddenly sprang up, and ran out to relieve his mind on the point. A few seconds sufficed. On clearing the bushes he beheld the new wreck lying not far from the old one, and saw from the crowds of people who were being put into the boats that the emigrant ship had been no mere creature of his imagination. It was evident that the boat which had just quitted the vessel’s side contained the first band of emigrants, for the only people yet landed were a few men, who busied themselves in putting up a rude shelter for the women and children, and in kindling fires for the preparation of breakfast on a little mound between two and three hundred yards from the golden cave.
By that time the storm had blown itself out, and the rising sun was mounting into a cloudless blue sky, and covering the sea with dazzling ripples, which looked as if the very water were laughing with joy at the sudden change from darkness and fury to light and peace.
Conspicuous among those who worked on shore was the gigantic form of Joe Binney. Considering him an old acquaintance. Otto ran up to him and shook hands.
“How many emigrants are there of you?” he asked.
“Three hundred, more or less, master, but I ain’t rightly sure; there’s such a many that it’s difficult to count ’em when they are all a-movin’ to and fro.”
“Here, Joe, catch hold o’ this post, an’ keep it steady till I make it fast,” said Hugh Morris, the seaman who has been described as one of the most turbulent among the men.
While Joe assisted in the erection of the canvas booth or shelter, he gave Otto a good deal of information regarding the vessel, the emigrants, the crew, and the misunderstandings which had occurred previous to the captain’s death.