CHAPTER XXIV
THE CASTAWAYS
Quite a new experience it was for Tom to be in command of a steamer,even though it was a comparatively small craft. And he was in actualcommand, for, though Captain Mosher was the navigator, and had allthe powers captains usually have on the high seas, still Tom was themaster, and his orders would be obeyed.
"If only dad and mother were here with me, or if I knew they were safe,and I had a crowd of fellows from Elmwood Hall here," Tom reflected,"this would be sport. But as it is there's too much worry in it to suitme."
Not that he shirked his duty in the least, but it was a big responsibilityfor a youth, and none knew it better than Captain Mosher.
"That boy has grit!" the commander exclaimed to his mate. "There ain'tmany lads like him who would start off as he did on such a slim chanceto find his parents. And, after being shipwrecked, he starts off again."
"Oh, 'e's H'American!" exclaimed the mate, who was quite a Cockney inhis way. "'E's H'American, and H'Americans will do hanythink, so I've'eard, sir."
"Maybe they will. The more credit to 'em."
"But H'I say, Captain, sir, 'ave you told 'im?"
"Told him what?"
"About them cannibals an' other unpleasant creatures that may be on theh'islands where we're goin'?"
"No, I haven't told him, but I'm going to. It's only fair that heshould know about 'em. I think he's got grit enough to take it."
And so, after the vessel was well under way, and the captain hadleisure, he sent for Tom, who was in the stateroom that had beenassigned to him, next to the captain's own quarters.
"Tom, my boy!" exclaimed Mr. Mosher, after a few generalities, "it'sonly fair to tell you that we may have a hard task ahead of us."
"How so, captain?"
"Well, some of the islands around Tongatabu are inhabited by nativesthat are not always friendly."
"You mean----" and our hero paused apprehensively.
"I mean that--well, at worst, I think, they can but hold your folkscaptive, in case the survivors from the shipwreck landed on one of theunfriendly islands."
"Hold them captives?"
"Yes. You see these natives are peculiar. They get streaks, I mightsay. If a large enough party of whites landed they would be friendly,and would treat them well. But if only a few were cast on their shoresthey might be ugly, and make them prisoners for the sake of what fewpossessions they might save from the wreck."
"And you think my parents may have landed on such an island?"
"It's possible. I only tell you to prepare you for the worst."
Tom was silent a moment, and then he said quietly:
"We brought arms along, didn't we, captain?"
"Yes, Tom, but----"
"Then we'll use 'em--if we have to!" exclaimed the lad, with an energythat caused the captain to like him the more. "If any cannibals orother natives are holding my folks captive we'll go to the rescue."
"And I'm with you!" cried the commander, holding out his hand, whichTom took in a firm grip.
The _Sea Queen_ was a fast little steamer and, favored by good weather,she made excellent time. In due course the island of Tongatabu wassighted and one night the vessel Tom had chartered to search for hisparents lay at anchor in the harbor. There was not much of a settlementon the island in those days, but such as it was there was news to behad, of a sort, though not the kind Tom wanted.
For he could learn nothing of his parents. There were rumors of wrecks,and of castaways coming ashore, but none from the _Kangaroo_.
In fact a crew from another wrecked sailing ship had come ashore toTongatabu, but they knew nothing of the casting away of the ship onwhich Mr. and Mrs. Fairfield had sailed.
"You might do one thing," said a friendly Englishman who had somebusiness interests on the island. "I understand there are some nativeshere from surrounding islands. You might ask them if they have heard ofany white castaways coming ashore at any of the places where they live."
Tom and Captain Mosher welcomed the suggestion and followed it. Theyfound the natives--rather a shiftless lot--and questioned them throughan interpreter. But to no purpose.
The simple black men told stories of wrecks that had happened ten yearsback, and related how the castaways from them had come ashore, eitherto remain there in an idle existence, or to take the first steamer backfor civilization. There were more rumors, but nothing definite.
"The only thing to do," decided Captain Mosher, "is to visit all theislands in the immediate vicinity of Tongatabu. In that way we'll getfirst hand information."
"And we may find them!" cried Tom eagerly. "Let's start off again!"
This was about the third day of their stay at Tongatabu and that nightthey hoisted anchor, and steamed out of the harbor.
Then began a wearying search. No spot of land was too small to deterTom, and at every large island he spent some days, hiring natives tomake a circuit of it, and interviewing, through interpreters, the chiefmen.
But all to no purpose. There had been no wrecks in some time, and nocastaways had come ashore. Tom was beginning to get discouraged.
"Oh, there are lots more islands," Captain Mosher assured him. "We'llfind 'em yet!"
"H'if the bloody cannibals ain't het 'em!" said the mate.
"Keep still!" commanded the captain, emphasizing his words with a digin the ribs that made his chief officer grunt.
They came one night to the small island of Tahatoo, hardly more than adot in the big ocean. But there was a good harbor, in a coral lagoon,and, as there were signs of a storm, Captain Mosher decided to lay tothere over night.
"And while we're here we may as well go ashore and see if there is anynews," spoke Tom. His voice was despondent, for the search had beenwearying and disappointing.
"White mans? No hab white mans and womans here," said the head nativein his broken English, when Tom and the captain put the question tohim. "No hab wrecks here. If had, Walla he be kind to um. Kind to whitemans and womans. Me is Walla. Walla bery kind. When you sail away,captain?"
"Why do you want to know?" inquired the commander of the _Sea Queen_,suspiciously, for usually the natives were only too glad to have asteamer spend some days at one of their islands.
"Oh, me just ask for friendly like. When you go?"
"In the morning, if the weather's good," was the answer.
"Walla t'ink wedder good," said the native grinning. "You go mornin'."
"Tom, there's something wrong here!" said the commander a little later,as he and our hero walked down toward the beach. "That native isaltogether too anxious to get rid of us."
"Why--do you think----" began Tom, his heart beating fast.
"I don't know what to think, my boy, but----"
"Do you imagine dad and mother--may have been here?"
"I don't know, but I think that Walla knows something. I think we'lljust stroll around a bit, and we don't leave to-morrow, no matter whatthe weather is."
Their minds filled with strange thoughts, the two strolled back towardthe native village. The hut where Walla, the head man lived, was easilydistinguished by its size. Around it were other places where the poorernatives stayed.
As Tom and Captain Mosher tried to pass through an alley that led pastWalla's hut, a big black man stopped them with a gesture.
"No can go," he said, grinning.
"Why not?" asked Tom.
"No can go. Walla he say so. No can go. After a bit maybe can go."
"We're going now!" cried Captain Mosher with sudden energy. "Tom, myboy, there's something on foot here. Draw your revolver and follow me.We'll see what's up."
"No can go!" insisted the native guard.
"We're going!" cried the captain. "Come on, Tom!"
Tom sprang to the commander's side. In the gathering dusk they couldobserve signs of activity about a hut that adjoined Walla's. A numberof native men and women were moving about it.
Suddenly a shout was heard. A voice was raised in angry protest. Andthe words
were English.
"I'll not go! I'll not submit to this any longer! Where is your headman? What does he mean by taking us away from where we were fairlycomfortable, and sending us somewhere else? What does it mean?"
For a moment Tom and the captain stood as if paralyzed. Then a woman'ssob was heard.
"White men! White men, by Jove!" cried the captain.
"My father!" shouted Tom. "That's my father's voice! I'd know itanywhere! He's here! I've found him! Dad! Mother! I've come to rescueyou! I'm here! We're coming!"
Tom sprang toward the knot of natives, Captain Mosher at his side. Fora moment the blacks resisted. Tom fired into the air, and the captaindid likewise. With yells of fear the natives fled, and there, in thefast-gathering dusk, in front of the hut next to that of Walla, stood alittle group of white castaways--Tom's father and mother among them!
Tom Fairfield at Sea; or, The Wreck of the Silver Star Page 24
