It is rarely
visited even by natives, and I doubt if any white man was ever here
before your arrival."
"Then how did you happen to come?" asked Cabot.
"I came by special request to find you and offer whatever assistance I
may render. I am the Rev. Ostrander Mellins, Director of a Moravian
Mission Station located on the coast some twenty-five miles from this
point."
"But how did you know of us?" cried Cabot, in amazement. "We haven't
sent any telegrams nor even written any letters since coming here."
"Did not you send a messenger yesterday?"
"No, sir. Most of yesterday we were prisoners in the hands of some
rascally Indians."
"I perceive," said the missionary, "that I have much to hear as well as
to tell, and, being both tired and cold, would suggest that we seek a
more sheltered spot than this, where we may converse while my man
prepares supper."
At these words both our lads were covered with confusion, and, with
profuse apologies for their lack of hospitality, besought the
missionary to accompany them into the schooner's cabin.
"We should have asked you long ago," declared White, "only we were so
overcome with joy at meeting a white man who could talk to us that we
really didn't know what we were about."
"Won't your man and dogs also come aboard?" asked Cabot, anxious to
show how hospitable they really were.
"No, thank you," laughed the missionary.
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