his reason would snap. It would be frightful to have his hopes aroused only to be flung back into a bottomless abyss of despair.
Gradually as he watched the oncoming ship he realized that there could be no more doubt of the fact that he would soon be rescued. He felt like shouting for sheer delight. Not even for a complete day had he remained on the island. He assumed that it was a coral island because of the formation of the beach. Now the ship was close enough to launch a small boat. A half-dozen sailors climbed over the side. At once they bent to their oars. The small boat swept toward him rapidly. In a few moments it had been beached.
Lee goona gazed at the occupants of the boat. They were all ugly, as ugly as it seemed possible for human men to be. There was a suggestion of the Asiatic about their faces, the high cheek-bones and the flat noses. But they were not Chinese. They suggested a mongrel admixture. One was black. They looked extremely ferocious, but Lee Goona did not mind. They were there to rescue him; nothing else mattered. Without a word he climbed into the small boat and soon he was being rowed out toward the golden ship.
The sails gleamed more dazzlingly than ever as they neared it. Lee Goona grasped the rope ladder as the small boat came abreast and at once clambered up to the deck. The ship was far less inviting when he found himself on board. It was true that the sails still gleamed golden, but the ship and the deck itself were painted a dismal black, as though they had been painted with tar or road oil. Still he was on board, and that was much. He did not expect a private yacht.
As Lee Goona surveyed his surroundings the captain came ambling toward him. He was a great giant of a man. His face was not ugly, but strong. His square jaw betokened an indomitable will. His eyes were shaded by eyebrows bushy and black. They perhaps emphasized the piercing blackness of his eyes. He looked like a god of the mountains, as powerful as an Atlas or a Jupiter.
"Well, now you are here," he said, "are you satisfied?" He laughed shortly, harshly, as he spoke—a laugh that was at strange variance to the rich, full, pleasant tone of his voice.
"I am more than satisfied," replied Lee Goona emphatically. "On that island I scarcely knew what was in store for me."
The captain smiled. "And do you know now?" he asked.
"No," admitted Lee Goona, "but at least I am among human beings."
"Do not use that term too carelessly," advised the captain. "In these wondrous days of advancement, of education and civilization, it is doubtful if anyone is really human. The recent war proved that. However, what matter? I am glad that you appreciate being on this ship. I hope your attitude lasts."
Of the voyage on that golden ship, volumes might be written—weird, unpleasant volumes which would not be agreeable to muse over. Lee Goona was assigned to a bunk in the forecastle, as dirty a bunk as could be imagined, a bunk nauseating beyond description, over which hordes of insects crawled. It was as though all the elegance of the ship were in the sails. The rest was reeking, rotting and vile beyond description. The food was of the commonest. Fish and biscuits, endlessly. The animal-like crew sat about the table and gorged the food. They tore off the fish in great chunks and crunched the biscuits noisily. A few there were who preferred the fish raw, and the oil and grease drooled from their lips.
