At a half dozen other islands, the next day, the same thing happened. Small groups gathered to watch their approach, then, as though driven by some fear of them, scrambled into canoes and disappeared among the islands or toward the mainland.
“Do you suppose they are as afraid of white people as all that?” Cliff wondered.
“Let’s all keep out of sight when we come in sight of the next island, only have Bob, who is dark and might look at a distance like an Indian, on deck,” whispered Nicky. Cliff and Tom agreed, and when Mr. Gray, Bill and Jack, all three puzzled, heard the plan, they agreed.
The change in their plan seemed to make no difference. As they came within sight of the next islet, canoes filled and were driven hastily into hiding.
“I can’t understand it,” Cliff stated.
“Nor I,” Bill acknowledged, and Jack conceded the same thing.
Tom still remained mute, his face very sober.
Finally they reached a fairly clear harbor at the largest of the islands. While they dropped anchor they watched anxiously, for there were many canoes, of different sizes, busily traversing the waterway between the island and the distant shore.
Except for giving the cruiser a wide berth, however, the canoes appeared not to know that it existed.
All the next day the company waited for the approach of a canoe. With the early sunrise a fleet of canoes, filled with women—who seemed to do all of the paddling and all other work—set out for the mainland, paying no attention whatever to the cruiser. At evening the fleet came back.