So quickly had this happened that none of the others had seen it. But Jack quickly apprised them of his discovery.

“If the man’s face was painted, would that mean he was on the war-path?” asked Billy rather nervously.

“Not necessarily,” rejoined the captain, “but still, he might be hostile. On feast days the natives paint themselves up and that may have been the reason for his decorations.”

“Ugh! He was hideous enough to stop a clock or scare a locomotive off the track,” exclaimed Jack.

“The village must be near at hand,” said the captain presently. “Let us press on.”

They had reached the end of the ravine now, having crossed almost the entire island. The path widened and others branched off from it. But they stuck to the main thoroughfare and in a few moments came in sight of a native village lying not far back from the shore and amidst a grove of magnificent palms.

The rhythmical throbbing of tom-toms reached their ears and they could see natives dancing in their peculiar swaying manner to the sound of the skin drums. Suddenly the dancing ceased. The natives in a swarm, among them the man with the painted face, descended on the travelers. Many wore flowers in their hair and others added to these decorations by brass rings in their noses and ear-rings composed of old china door knobs. The men were remarkably handsome and the women pretty.

After the first uncertainty as to their reception, there was no doubt of their friendliness as they pressed about. Several of them could talk English and the captain soon learned that they were indeed on one of the Pamatou group, as he had surmised. The village, which was celebrating a feast day, was one of two on the island occupied by pearl fishers. The natives were civilized; schooners and ships frequently touching there. To the south of them they said were “bad men,” meaning cannibals, and the boys were glad they had not landed on one of them.

Nothing would do but that the white men must sit down and partake of the feast which was just ready. The boys stuffed themselves with roast pork, goat-meat, sweet potatoes, yams, roasted bread-fruit, fish and fruit. They washed this down with cocoanut milk. During the meal, a young Pamatouan attached himself to each of the boys. Each of these lads was about sixteen and wore, like most of the rest, a single white garment, although some of the natives sported trousers, and a few even had shoes—which they carried in their hands!

The two lads, who had thrust their services on Jack and Billy, informed them that they were their friends and would be so all the time the Sea Gypsy lay at the island. They waited on the amused boys hand and foot, not letting them do anything. Jack’s acquisition was called Bolabola; Billy’s savage servitor was called, so he said, Anai. Each could speak a little English and they informed the boys that they were “their friends for always.” From the captain the lads learned that this is a common custom among the islanders who value the friendship of a white man highly, and think it an honor and a credit to wait on him. He suggested giving them some little presents. Jack presented Bolabola with a pocket-knife and Billy gave Anai a fountain pen, having nothing else with him. Anai promptly stuck the pen through a big hole bored in the lobe of his ear and capered about delighted with his new ornament.

When it came time to go back to the ship, the friendly natives could not hear of the adventurers trudging back on foot. A great war canoe was launched and paddled by fifty strapping natives, singing musically, and so they were paddled round the island in state. On their arrival at the ship, the boat which had been left under guard was signalled to return, and presents of calico, straw hats, cheap cutlery and glass beads and fish-hooks and lines,—the latter highly prized,—were dealt out from the yacht’s stores. The natives swarmed all over the ship and it was hard to induce them to leave at all. As for Bolabola and Anai, they refused to go till they had extracted promises from their “friends,” Jack and Billy, to visit them ashore and visit a pearl cave they knew of along the coast.

This exactly suited the boys, and their delight, when Mr. Jukes decided to stay at the island for some days, was unbounded. The reason for the decision to remain there was arrived at after the millionaire had held a consultation with Captain Sparhawk. Tahiti was not far off, and that night Jack was ordered to raise the wireless station on the French island and find out if a small vessel could not be despatched at once with coal to replenish the Sea Gypsy’s exhausted bunkers.

The next morning Jack had the satisfaction of informing Mr. Jukes that the details had been arranged and that a small tramp steamer might be expected to come to their relief in a few days. The expense was considerable, but this did not appear to bother Mr. Jukes, who chafed at the delay in his search for the survivors, if any there were, of the Centurion.