Sometimes the hills concealed the water from us; Fritz climbed them,
anxious to discover his brother, at last I heard him suddenly cry out
"Ernest, Ernest...."
He was answered by shouts, or rather howls, amongst which I could not
distinguish the voice of my son. Terror seized me.
"These are the islanders," said I to the missionary; "and these
frightful cries...."
"Are cries of joy," said he, "which will be increased when they see you.
This path will conduct us to the shore. Call Fritz; but I do not see
him; he will, doubtless, have descended the hill, and joined them. Have
no fears; recommend your sons to be prudent. The _black friend_ will
speak to his black friends, and they will hear him."
We proceeded towards the shore, when, at some distance, I perceived my
two sons on the deck of the pinnace, which was covered with the
islanders, to whom they were distributing the treasures of the chest, at
least those we had put apart in the bag; they had not been so imprudent
as to open the chest itself, which would soon have been emptied; it
remained snugly below the deck, with the powder-barrel. At every new
acquisition, the savages uttered cries of joy, repeating _mona, mona_
signifying _beautiful_. The mirrors were at first received with the most
delight, but this soon changed into terror; they evidently conceived
there was something magical about them, and flung them all into the sea.
Pages:
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407