“My father gave this to me, and I’ve kept it carefully ever since. I wouldn’t lose it for worlds,” said Ben. “Look here: he wrote my name in it with his own hand. See: ‘Benjamin Hadden’—though I was always called in our parts, Little Ben Hadden.”
“You Ben Hadden!” exclaimed the stranger in a husky voice. “Did you ever hear speak of your brother Ned?”
“Yes indeed,” cried Ben eagerly; “I came out to these parts to look for him. Can you tell me anything about him?”
“Well, I should think so,” answered the stranger in the same husky voice as before; “though, to be sure, I cannot tell you much in his favour. What should you say if I was to tell you that I am Ned Hadden?”
“You my brother Ned!” exclaimed Ben, in a half-disappointed and doubting tone of voice. “You wouldn’t deceive me, surely. I have long and long wished to find him. But are you indeed my brother Ned? Oh, tell me! tell me!”
“Yes, I am Ned Hadden—or was, there is no doubt about that; but I have become such a savage sort of chap, that I don’t know very well what I am now.”
Ben seized Ned’s hand, and burst into tears. His brother was so different from what he had expected to find him—so rough and savage-looking almost, and ignorant; yet he was thankful that he had found him. Afterwards, when he thought the matter over, he saw that he had still greater reason to be thankful that he had found him, for Ned’s own sake: the more savage and ignorant he was, the more important that he should be instructed in the truths of the gospel. From that moment forward that was Ben’s daily, hourly task. He wished the voyage to be prolonged, that he might have his brother more to himself, to read to him, and teach him the Truth. Mr Manners took great pleasure in helping him in his pious task, and it was easy to see that Ned profited greatly by their instruction. His first inquiries had been for his family. He was much affected by hearing of the death of his father and brothers. That very event seemed to soften his heart, and make him willing to listen attentively to what Mr Manners and Ben said to him. He confessed that, when the canoe was seen approaching the island, he had consented to assist the natives in decoying her in, with the intention of destroying all on board; but that, on hearing the hymn sung, and, more than all, on listening to Ben’s grace, the words of which sounded familiar to his ears, recollecting his early principles, he resolved to save the visitors, whom he also knew to be his countrymen.
All this came out but slowly, as his mind expanded under the instruction he was receiving. He had been so long among savages and heathens that he had imbibed many of their notions and principles; instead of improving them, he had nearly sunk to their level. Such has unhappily been the case with numerous European and American sailors, who have either been wrecked or have deserted their ships, and have lived long among the once savage inhabitants of the islands of the Pacific. Many of them have proved, by their evil influence and example, sad hindrances to the efforts of the missionaries in spreading among the natives the truths of the gospel.
For several days the canoe glided slowly on. Though strongly built, her form was not equal to those constructed by the Tonga islanders, noted for their speed among the surrounding groups of islands.
Mr Manners had begun to grow very anxious with regard to their provisions and water. Before he could hope to reach their final destination, it would be absolutely necessary to touch at some island where they might replenish their stock, both of one and the other. The weather, too, had shown signs of changing; and the sea, hitherto so calm, began to tumble and toss the canoe about in a way which strained her greatly, and made it necessary for a number of those on board to be continually baling. As the sea increased more and more, it was necessary to do this night and day without ceasing. All on board were accordingly looking out anxiously for some island where they might find shelter till the stormy weather was over.