CHAPTER II
FAREWELL TO HAWAII
Jeems Howell was the only one of the hardy Frontier group who was unable to be present at breakfast that fine morning.
“How are you feeling, Jeems,” inquired Jo, looking in upon the sufferer a little later. “Don’t you think that you could eat a little something if you were propped up with pillows?”
“No, no, lad,” said Jeems sadly. “I feel that I ain’t long for this world.”
“I don’t know what you call it then,” remarked the incorrigible Jo, “you are six feet four and that seems to me to be pretty long for this world or any other.”
Jeems laughed so heartily at this that he too began forthwith to recuperate. Then he got out on the land side of the deck and, though the sun was of a sufficient warmth to satisfy the most exacting, he kept a heavy shawl wrapped around his shoulders.
“Durned old woman,” growled the captain when he caught sight of the figure seated between the cabin and the rail. “He ought to be for’ard scrubbing deck.”
However, Skipper Jim was more lenient, and only laughed at the captain’s severity, for he knew that the old fellow’s bark was much worse than his bite. In fact, no work was being done aboard ship that morning, for all hands were given a chance for a long last look at Hawaii. Never again were they to behold a more beautiful scene than the panorama that traveled steadily along with the Sea Eagle that morning.
The soft radiance flooded the deeply azure sea, and the tropic island of vivid and varied green. The four boys stood leaning lazily on the ship’s rail, gazing in silence at the view that was passing before them. Their sombreros shaded their eyes, but the glare from the water shone upon their faces of healthy bronze, and they did not seem to mind it in the least. The old captain sat upon the bridge in his old armchair, with his old comrade, the tortoise-shell cat, dozing and blinking at his feet, a true picture of furry felicity.