Part 25 (2/2)

”And what is the name of your town?”

”Sasite.”

”Rather queer names, I should say,” exclaimed Harry.

John laughed and glanced at Harry, as he said: ”I wonder how _Unity_, and _Pioneer_, and _Mayfield_, and the queer English names sound to them!”

”Oh, I suppose they have some good reason for having such names.”

”Yes; for the same reason that we apply names to certain things. See what a wonderful expression there is in the word 'Harsh,' and how expressive it is compared with its opposite 'soft.' How the first word grates, and the second comes out so smoothly. Then, compare 'swift' and 'slow'; or 'sweet' and 'sour.' Ugh! I can almost taste the last word.”

John roared, as he saw the serious aspect of Harry's face. But other sights now attracted their attention. A group of men and women appeared.

How strange the natives looked. They were well dressed, that is, judged from the people in Sasite, and they were people of good deportment, if those of the inhabitants that accompanied them were fair specimens.

At the head of the villagers was a man of striking appearance, tall, with white hair, such as you would call distinguished, because he differed from most around him. The women were well clad, and the children plump and vigorous in their actions.

Something must be wrong! These people were not criminals! The old man came forward, and gave a respectful bow. He looked at John and said a few words. Calmo responded, his words when translated being: ”These are friends of my father, and they have come to visit you.”

At this the man gave another bow, and John went up and held out his hand, which the man took in a simple and unaffected manner.

”We welcome you to our village,” was his reply.

The boys looked at each other and relaxed their hold on the guns. Was this, after all, the wicked place that had been described to them? As they marched down to the village they were enchanted at the flowers which greeted them on all sides.

Here and there were garden spots, carefully kept, and when the first huts appeared beyond the grove, the boys simply gasped, and could hardly believe their senses. Hundreds of Magnolia trees were in bloom; and the gentle breeze blowing in from the sea, moderated the rays of the sun, and wafted the odor of the plants many miles inland.

The homes were not rudely built, and, although they were on the same general plan of those in Sasite, they had every appearance of comfort.

The head man of the village led them to a more pretentious home, probably his own dwelling. This was soon confirmed, as they were invited to enter and repose themselves on slightly elevated couches, so much like Chief Beralsee's court.

Within a short time there was a great commotion in the village. The boys looked around startled, and the old man noticed it, for he turned to Calmo, and said: ”The villagers are preparing a feast for you. Let them go out and mingle with the people.”

The boys were happy at this opportunity of satisfying their curiosity.

Sutoto accompanied them, and with Calmo, they placed themselves under the guidance of a young man named Anasa, who, Calmo said, was the son of the old man.

They pa.s.sed down the main street, for there was some semblance of order in the location of the huts. Around the huts were flowers, just as they had seen on the path leading from the mountain, and here and there patches of growing vegetables. After pa.s.sing one rather attractive looking hut, Anasa paused for a moment, and then turned back, motioning for them to follow. He entered, and the boys saw a villager, and two women within.

Anasa pointed to the figure of a man seated in a chair, and upon seeing it both boys started back in amazement.

”That is a white man,” cried Harry.

Anasa nodded, his manner indicating that he felt sure that the boys would recognize him as belonging to their race. George went up to him, and held out his hand. In response the man gave a listless look, and slowly raised the left hand, which was grasped by George, who said: ”I am glad to see you. Who are you? We are white, the same as you are.”

The man made no sign, and his arm dropped to his side as George relaxed his grasp. Harry touched George on the shoulder, as he said: ”There is something the matter with him. Ask Anasa about him.”

Calmo put the question, and this was the reply: ”We found the poor fellow on the beach many moons ago. We brought him here, and tried to heal him, but he does not speak, and one side of him has no life.”

<script>