nward, is soon sighted by the canoemen, who, starting to their feet,
commence a chorus of shouts, which come pealing over the water, waking
echoes along both shores. And something is seen now which gives the
boat's people a thrill of fear. Above one of the canoes suddenly
appears a white disc, seemingly a small flag, not stationary, but waved
and brandished above the head of the man who has hoisted it.

At sight of the dreaded white--the Fuegian symbol of war--well may the
boat-voyagers experience fear; for, from their former experience, they
feel certain that this display must be intended as a warlike challenge.

But to their instant relief, they soon learn that it is meant as a
signal of peace, as words of friendly salutation reach their ears.

The man who is waving the signal shouts, "Boat ahoy! down your sail--
bring to! Don't be 'fraid. Me Jemmy Button. We Tekeneekas--friends of
white people--brothers!"

Hailed in such fashion, their delight far exceeds their surprise, for
Jemmy Button it surely is; Henry Chester and Ned Gancy both recognise
him. It is on his side that amazement reaches its maximum height when
he recognises them, which he does when his native name, Orundelico, is
called out to him.

He waits not for the boat to come up, but plunging into the water, swims
to meet it. Then clambering over the rail, he flings his arms wide
open, to close, first around the young Englishman, then the American,
but both in a like friendly, fraternal embrace.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

TEKENEEKA HOSPITALITY.

Once more are the castaways in a land-locked cove begirt by high wooded
hills, with their boat moored at its inner end, and their tent set up on
shore. It is a larger embayment than that where the gig came to grief,
though not much wider at the mouth; and there is little resemblance
between the two landing-places, since at the present one the boat is not
the only craft. Ten or more of Fuegian canoes lie alongside her, while
on a broad, grassy flat, above water-mark, stands alike number of
wigwams, their smoke-blackened thatches in strong contrast with the
white, weather-bleached boat-sail, which is again serving as a tent.
The wigwams are of Tekeneeka construction, differing, as already said,
from those of the Ailikoleeps, in being acutely cone-shaped and in
having their floors sunk several feet below the surface of the ground.
Their ribs, moreover, are stout tree-trunks instead of slender saplings,