HOMEWARD BOUND
"Storms, do you notice that fellow?" asked Fred Sanders, as they
approached the plank.
"Yes; it looks odd to see him standing there so motionless, and yet
with his eyes fixed upon us."
"He's Weroo, the man who led that gang of pirates last night, and he
hates me with such a consuming hate that he sent out his men to kill
me, and in case they fail to do so, he has stationed himself there
with the determination to assassinate me, for he is ready to run any
risk rather than allow me to get away."
"Are you prepared?" asked Storms, with no little anxiety.
"I rather guess so! Walk ahead with Inez and leave him to me."
With some hesitation, Storms did as requested, though he placed his
hand on his revolver, so as to be ready for any emergency, the crew of
the _Albatross_, who were busying themselves around, seeming to hold
no suspicion of the situation.
Just as Captain Fred put his foot on the plank, the islander took a
short step forward, like a panther gathering himself for the leap upon
its victim. At that very instant, as if by intuition, Captain Fred
turned about and leveled his revolver at the muffled figure, which
paused. Every one who was looking on supposed, of course, the boy was
going to fire, but, though his finger pressed the trigger, he did not
discharge his weapon. With the pistol pointed straight at the savage,
Fred slowly backed up the plank, keeping his foe covered until he
himself was on the deck of the schooner.
The barbarian seemed paralyzed. After taking the slight step forward,
he paused and stood motionless, staring and transfixed, until his
victim was beyond his reach. Then, without a word or exclamation, he
turned about, and strode away to where his infuriated and discomfited
comrades were watching him with not the slightest doubt he would
prevent the escape of the white boy. Within the succeeding hour the
_Albatross_ was standing down the bay, with all sail spread; and her
long voyage to distant California was begun.
Ah, that journey from the South Seas across the equator and northward
into the stern climate of the Temperate Zone!
Not one of those who participated in it can forget it to his dying
day. They had many hours of fierce, wild weather, in which the
_Albatross_ was more than once in danger, but Captain Hardy was a good
sailor, he had a good crew, and he safely rode through it all.
Then came those delightful nights which seem peculiar to the Pacific,
when the moonlight takes on a witchery of its own, and the calm sea
becomes like an enchanted lake as the vessel glides over it.
Captain Hardy was a kind man as well as a skilful sailor, and, since
he received a most liberal price for the passage of the three persons
who joined him at Wauparmur, the best treatment was given them.
It was on this homeward voyage that Captain Fred Sanders told to Mate
Storms and Inez Hawthorne the story of his life, the main points of
which have already been hinted to the reader. He ran away from his
home in San Francisco when but a mere boy, scarcely ten years old. He
was led into all sorts of evil, and was so deeply implicated in a
fierce mutiny that, as we have said, he would have been strung up at
the yard-arm, excepting for his extreme youth.
He then joined a trading vessel in the South Seas, but the crew were
attacked and massacred by a band of pirates, and he was taken off a
prisoner. These pirates belonged to the Wauparmur settlement, and they
were so pleased with the bravery displayed by the boy that they
adopted him among them. There was something in the life which was
attractive to the wild American lad, and he embraced it eagerly, and
spent five years among them. His bravery, skill, and natural
"smartness," advanced him rapidly along the line of promotion, until,
while yet a boy, he became an acknowledged leader.
Captain Fred spent a portion of his time in the settlement, where he
showed his good sense, in one respect at least, by picking up all the
education he could from the instructors who were to be found there. He
succeeded well--which will explain the intelligence he displayed in
this respect while conversing with his friends.
He confessed all this, and said further that his mother died before he
ran away, and he had no idea where his father was; but, if he were
alive, the son determined to find him, no matter where he might be on
the broad earth. Now that his conscience had been awakened, his
affection came back with it, and his great fear was that he would not
see his parent alive.
It was a source of never-ending wonder to Fred Sanders how it was he
could have been so wicked a lad, and how it was that his moral sense
could have been so totally eclipsed for years. The gentle, winning
words of Inez Hawthorne had first aroused his conscience, until
finally it would not allow him to rest until he had made his peace
with it.