The Wonder Island Boys: Adventures on Strange Islands Part 26

The man made no show of recognition, and the only motion observable was a twitching jerk of the left arm, and a slightly swaying motion of the head.

"John must know about this," said George.

"By all means," was the reply.

Calmo was told about the wonderful man John, and that he should be called at once, so one of the accompanying natives was instructed to bring John, and he speeded away on the errand.

George stood outside of the hut when John came up. "This is a remarkable thing. Did they tell you about it?"

"No."

"There is a white man here."

"Where?" asked John in astonishment.

"In the hut, and he is paralyzed and cannot speak."

John did not wait for more, and as he went the head man followed him in.

Then they told him the story, and John stood there and gazed at the man.

To the boys who were by John's side he remarked: "I do not know him. I do not think I ever saw him before. How long has he been in this condition?" The old man responded: "Ever since we picked him up on the sh.o.r.e, about _tuta romama_ ago."

"And how long ago was that?"

George informed him that Calmo received the information that it was over two years prior to that time, and as John received this information he pa.s.sed his hand over his head, and, turning to Harry, said: "We shall, probably, get at the bottom of another mystery."

"What is it? Why do you think so?" asked George in astonishment.

"Not now; not now!" answered John, wishing to defer discussion until they were out of the stricken man's hearing.

The latter, however, did not in the least appreciate who were before him. He was not at all perturbed by his visitors, nor when John quietly pa.s.sed his hand along the poor man's arm and body to satisfy himself of the extent of the paralytic stroke.

He winced but slightly when the examination of the left side was made, otherwise there was no sign of comprehension on his part.

"This is a remarkable thing," said John, as they were returning to the old man's dwelling.

"Why, is it a peculiar case?"

"The ailment itself is not remarkable; but there is something which pa.s.ses my comprehension."

"What is it!" asked the boys in, unison.

"These people are savages."

"Yes; answered the boys."

"And they are criminals," he said as he stopped and looked at the boys, with an earnestness that surprised them.

It did not take more words to make them understand what John meant.

These people had taken this shipwrecked man, and tenderly cared for him during a period of more than two years. This was done without hope of reward. John learned later on that the natives of the town had made provision for the shipwrecked man and had compensated the people at whose home he was then living.

After the evening meal, John walked around the village, observing the people, and he found happiness everywhere. Everything seemed to be arranged according to a system. The old man was not a chief, but was looked upon as their advisor and guide; but he was a criminal, as were all the others in that town.

That evening when all were present John had the first opportunity to talk with the venerable chief of the town.

"How long have you been here?" he was asked.

He was silent for a moment and then answered: "Thirty years."

It must be understood that the questions and answers had to be translated and as the natives knew nothing about the division of time in months or years it was necessary to convert the time which was given by nature into terms of years and months.

Thus, they understood what a day meant, and they could calculate time, as all savages do, by the phases of the moon, and in many cases they were able to indicate time by the position of the sun, in which they recognized three phases only, namely, when the sun was directly above them, and when it reached the extreme northern and southern points.

"Why were you sent here?"

"Because I committed a crime."

John was almost startled at the frankness of the confession, which the old man made without the least perceptible show of feeling or shame.

"Would you like to go back again?"

"Go back where?"

"To your home."

He looked bewildered for a moment, and then answered: "This is my home."

"But I mean your old home at Sasite."

The old man shook his head vigorously, and answered: "No! no! There is no place like Hutoton."

"Do you know what 'Hutoton' means?"

"Yes; it means 'the place of death.'"

The boys were startled at the reply. John turned to them, when he saw their expression, and smiled. The old man, too, smiled.

"Do any of your people want to go back?"

He looked surprised at the question. "Do they want to go back?" he repeated the query. "No; but you should ask them. I do not know of any one who wishes to return. We love our Chief too much to wish for such a thing."

"Do you know what the people in Sasite think of this place?"

"No; not altogether; I am curious to know."

"They believe it is a terrible place, and that the people who are sent here never have another day of peace or happiness."

"And have they not changed their opinions? I used to think so too, and we believed it of those who went before us; but we thought they might have changed their opinions, because we felt that people were growing better and not worse. It is a long time since they sent us real criminals, and we thought the Chief's people were growing wiser and happier."

"When did the last criminals come here?"