The Lakewood Boys in the South Sea Islands by L.P. Wyman

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"Land, ho!"

It was several days after the catching of the shark, and the boys were eating breakfast alone when they heard the call. Leaving their unfinished meal they rushed out of the cabin and hurried to the bridge, where they found their uncle and Captain Ole, the former gazing through a large pair of field glasses.

"Is it it? " Bob asked eagerly.

"I'm not sure but, unless I'm off my reckoning, it ought to be," his uncle smiled as he handed the glass to the captain.

During the past three days they had sighted several islands, most of them small, but one or two of considerable size. Early in the voyage Mr. Lakewood had explained that his plan was to proceed to the island which he had reached in the open boat so many years before, and which, he told them, was the most northerly of the group called The Marquesas Islands, and which were owned by the French. This Island was of considerable size, and being a coaling station, he was sure that they would be able to lay in a fresh supply of fuel oil. From there they would set out on the search for the Island of Pearls, as they had come to call it, and which, he was quite sure, was not shown on any map.

"That's the island," Mr. Lakewood assured them a few minutes later. "I remember those two low hills which you can see just a little way in from the shore."

"Looks as though we were expected," Jack declared. "Look at the crowd down there by the wharf."

"It's quite an event for a boat to come in," his uncle told him.

"You're sure they're peaceful? " Bob asked a bit anxiously, as the boat came near enough for him to see the dark skins and scanty attire of the natives.

"You're not afraid, are you? " Mr. Lakewood asked in a tone of surprise.

"No," Bob told him. "I'm not afraid only, you know, I always had an idea that I'd make pretty good soup and -- -- "

"Don't let him razz you, Uncle," Jack interrupted. "When you see Bob afraid you can know there's something to be afraid of."

By this time the boat was only a few yards away from the long flimsy looking pier, which reached out some fifty feet into the sea and Pat rang to reverse, and a moment later, her side brushed the end of the structure and a half dozen, all but naked, natives eagerly caught the line thrown them by one of the deck hands. Scarcely was the boat tied up, when a short pompous appearing man, clad in a somewhat soiled suit of white duck, pushed his way through the crowd.

"Welcome," he shouted as soon as he had reached the edge of the wharf.

"Thanks," Mr. Lakewood smiled as he stepped ashore and grasped the man's outstretched hand.

From the deference paid him by the natives, the boys judged that the white clad man must be the head man of the island or, at least, someone high in authority. A moment later their uncle introduced them, and, somewhat to their surprise, they learned that Mr. Umgubsolongas spoke almost perfect English with only the faintest trace of a soft slightly slurring accent.

"I am very much pleased to have the honor of welcoming you to my poor island," he told them as he took each by the hand, "and all that I have is yours."

The boys eagerly assured him that the pleasure was mutual, and their uncle invited him aboard, an invitation which he readily accepted, and, after they had shown him over the boat, they sat down to a meal which Mr. Lakewood had cautioned Wong to make particularly good. Their guest proved an excellent conversationalist and, before the meal was finished, the boys knew more about the lives and habits of the people of the South Sea Islands than they could have gotten from books in a long time.

"You must be my guests for the evening meal," Mr. Umgubsolongas told them when, finally, they pushed back their chairs. "Of course," he added, "I cannot hope to equal your most splendid hospitality but I hope to offer you a dish or two which will, at least, be new to you."

For an hour they chatted beneath an awning of the forward deck and then their guest took his departure, after promising to call for them at six o'clock.

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