Then came the long-expected nor'wester. For eight days it raged, lulling
at times to short durations of calm, then shifting a point or two and
raging with renewed violence. Sheldon kept a precautionary eye on the
buildings, while the Balesuna, in flood, so savagely attacked the high
bank Joan had warned him about, that he told off all the gangs to battle
with the river.
It was in the good weather that followed, that he left the blacks at
work, one morning, and with a shot-gun across his pommel rode off after
pigeons. Two hours later, one of the house-boys, breathless and
scratched ran him down with the news that the _Martha_, the _Flibberty-
Gibbet_, and the _Emily_ were heading in for the anchorage.
Coming into the compound from the rear, Sheldon could see nothing until
he rode around the corner of the bungalow. Then he saw everything at
once--first, a glimpse at the sea, where the _Martha_ floated huge
alongside the cutter and the ketch which had rescued her; and, next, the
ground in front of the veranda steps, where a great crowd of fresh-caught
cannibals stood at attention. From the fact that each was attired in a
new, snow-white lava-lava, Sheldon knew that they were recruits. Part
way up the steps, one of them was just backing down into the crowd, while
another, called out by name, was coming up.
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