HOMEWARD BOUND--CONCLUSION
For a moment Tom hardly knew what to think. He had heard the voice of
white persons, he had seen them when the natives fled at the shots, and
yet he could not believe that at last he had found his parents.
Yet there could be no doubt of it. As he stood there, amid the awed
natives, and looked forward, he saw the beloved faces--faces he had
feared he would never see again.
“Father! Mother!” he cried, and then he ran forward.
From the little knot of castaways two figures detached themselves--a
man and a woman. Wonderingly they looked toward Tom. Then the man cried:
“It’s Tom! It’s our son! Oh, how did he ever get here?”
The woman answered:
“It can’t be possible! You’re dreaming, Brokaw! Tom could never be
here. Our minds must be wandering!”
“And I say it’s Tom!” declared the man. “Tom! Tom!” he called. “Is it
really you?”
“It is, father! Oh, are you all right? Have the natives hurt you? I’ve
come to rescue you!”
“Thank the dear Lord!” ejaculated Mr. Fairfield. His wife said nothing.
She was crying on his shoulder.
A moment later Tom had sprung to their side and was wildly hugging
them, while the other white castaways, including several sailors,
looked on wonderingly and sympathetically. Captain Mosher, with tears
of joy in his eyes, stood as a sort of guard, with drawn revolver, but
there was no need to use it, for the natives had nearly all vanished,
save a small wondering ring of them that stood some distance off.
“I rather guess, Tom, my boy,” spoke the commander, “that our voyage is
at an end.”
“It surely is!” cried Tom, as he introduced his parents. “I’ve found
them at last!”
“H’I always said them H’Americans was great for doin’ things,”
commented the mate, who had followed at a distance.
“Father! Mother!” cried Tom. “Tell me all about it.”
“Oh, dear boy, you tell us!” half sobbed his mother. “However did you
find us?”
And there, as night fell, on that half-savage island, in the midst
of the hut-village of Walla, the head man, Tom told his story. Its
details are already familiar to our readers, so I need not go over it.
“And you kept on after us, in spite of all,” commented Mr. Fairfield,
when Tom had finished telling of his days aboard the derelict, and in
the open boat, followed by the search in the steamer.
“Of course I did!” exclaimed Tom. “I wanted to find you.”
“And you did, dear boy!” cried his mother. “You found us, and we have
you again! Oh, I never thought to see you any more.”
“Tell me all about it,” suggested Tom. And they did.
With the foundering of the _Kangaroo_ all hands had taken the small
boats. There was much wind and they were separated. The one containing
Mr. and Mrs. Fairfield had drifted from the others, and had finally
landed at the island of Tahatoo. There the natives proved to be rather
unfriendly.
True, they did not maltreat the castaways, but they stripped them of
everything of value, confiscated their boat and stores and then, afraid
of the possible vengeance of the whites who might start out to rescue
the shipwrecked ones, Walla and his men made the castaways captives.
Mr. and Mrs. Fairfield, two men passengers, and a few sailors were in
the small boat that had landed at Tahatoo. Their clothes were taken
from them, and they were given a few rags to wear. They were not ill
treated, as native treatment goes, but they were held prisoners.
This lasted for some time and numerous attempts to escape were
frustrated. The castaways gave way to despair. Then came the arrival of
Tom’s steamer. Walla at once feared vengeance, and endeavored to hold
the attention of Captain Mosher and the others until he could hide his
captives in the interior. But his plans miscarried.
Mr. Fairfield, suspecting that something was up, had objected to being
taken away with his wife. The commotion had attracted the attention of
Tom and Captain Mosher, and the rest is known to the reader.
“Oh, dad! It seems too good to be true!” cried Tom, when their stories
had been told. “But your troubles are over. You’ll soon be back to
civilization. I’ve got a steamer waiting for you.”
“That’s what!” exclaimed Captain Mosher. “And I don’t believe anybody
but Tom Fairfield could have gone to sea and rescued you in the way he
did.”
“Oh, of course they could,” declared Tom, blushing, for he disliked
praise.
“Oh, I’m sure they couldn’t!” declared his mother, hugging him to her.
“Well, I’d like a few minutes private conversation with that scoundrel,
Walla,” said Captain Mosher grimly. “Where is Walla?” he asked of one
of the head man’s guards.
“Walla him gone ’way,” was the answer. “Him gone far ’way. Him say him
got very bad pain, no come back long time.”
“Pain!” cried the captain. “I’d give him a worse one, if I had the
scoundrel!”
A little later Mr. and Mrs. Fairfield, and all the castaways were
aboard the _Sea Queen_, where they were made comfortable, and given
decent clothes in exchange for the rags the natives had forced them
to wear. Then, as the storm broke, Captain Mosher rode it out in the
coral-locked harbor.
“And now for Melbourne, and then for home!” cried Tom, a few days
later, when calm weather prevailed. “Oh, it will seem good to get back
to the United States again.”
“But it’s too bad so many were lost from the _Silver Star_,” spoke Mr.
Fairfield. “Tom, you proved yourself a man! Oh, what a time you must
have had!”
“It wasn’t so easy,” confessed our hero, as he thought of the days
aboard the derelict and in the open boat.
The voyage to Melbourne was uneventful, and to Tom’s delight, when he
reached there, he learned that little Jackie’s father had reached
home. He and a number of others had been picked up in one of the
lifeboats, taken to a distant port, and had only just reached Australia.
News was also had of the others of the ill-fated ship that had struck
the derelict. Nearly all of them, including the captain, were saved,
but chief of all Tom rejoiced in that Jackie’s father was safe.
Little remains to tell. Shortly after their arrival in Australia with
their son, Mr. and Mrs. Fairfield were entertained by Mr. Case, and
Jackie renewed his friendship with Tom, whom he thought the greatest
young man in all the world.
“He found my daddy,” declared Jackie, and no one tried to make him
believe otherwise.
Then, having completed all his business plans, a re-arrangement of
which was made necessary because of the wreck, Mr. Fairfield, with his
wife and Tom, started for home.
Their voyage to San Francisco was uneventful. They called at Honolulu
on their way, and learned that Mr. Skeel had started in business, but
had failed, because of unfair dealings, and had disappeared.
“Oh, Tom, I hope you never meet that man again!” said our hero’s
mother.
“Well, I think Tom took pretty good care of himself,” spoke Mr.
Fairfield a bit proudly.
But whether or not Tom met Professor Skeel again, and what were the
next adventures that befell our hero, may be learned by reading the
next volume of this series, to be entitled, “Tom Fairfield in Camp; Or,
The Secret of the Old Mill.”
“Well, Tom, do you want to go back to Elmwood Hall?” asked Mr.
Fairfield of his son a few weeks later, when they were once more back
in their home at Briartown, having had a safe trip from San Francisco.
“I guess I do, dad. Adventures at sea are all right in their way, but
they’re too exciting for a steady diet. I think I can get back in time
to pass with the Freshman class.”
And Tom did, and a glorious time he had. For many a night there were
secret gatherings in the room of himself and Jack Fitch, while the lads
listened breathlessly to the tale of our hero’s adventures.
And now, for a time, we will take leave of Tom Fairfield, to meet him
again in new activities.
THE END
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Transcriber’s Notes:
--Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_); text in
bold by “equal” signs (=bold=).
--Printer, punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected,
except as indicated below.
--Archaic and variable spelling is preserved.
--Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.
--Inconsistencies in formatting and punctuation of individual
advertisements have been retained.