Just then I involuntarily glanced in the direction where my father
stood, and saw him stoop and pick up a flower or two.

My heart gave a bound.

The next minute he was walking slowly towards Mr Francis, to whom he
held out the flowers; and then I felt giddy, for I saw them coming
slowly towards our camp, both talking earnestly, my father seeming to be
explaining something about the flowers he had picked.

The doctor had seen it too, and he drew me away, after cautioning Jimmy
to be silent.

And there we stood while those two rescued prisoners talked quietly and
earnestly together, but it was in the savage tongue.

I need not tell you of my joy, or the doctor's triumphant looks.

"It is the beginning, Joe," he said; and hardly had he spoken when Jimmy
came up.

"Not bunyip 'tall!" he said scornfully. "Not no bunyip; all big 'tuff!
Jimmy, Mass Joe fader talk away, say, `where my boy?'"

CHAPTER FORTY TWO.

HOW I MUST WIND UP THE STORY.

It was the beginning of a better time, for from that day what was like
the dawn of a return of his mental powers brightened and strengthened
into the full sunshine of reason, and by the time we had been waiting at
Ti-hi's village for the coming of the captain with his schooner we had
heard the whole of my father's adventures from his own lips, and how he
had been struck down from behind by one of the blacks while collecting,
and kept a prisoner ever since.

I need not tell you of his words to me, his thanks to the doctor, and
his intense longing for the coming of the schooner, which seemed to be
an age before it came in sight.

We made Ti-hi and his companions happy by our supply of presents, for we
wanted to take nothing back, and at last one bright morning we sailed
from the glorious continent-like island, with two strong middle-aged men
on board, both of whom were returning to a civilised land with the
traces of their captivity in their hair and beards, which were as white
as snow.

Neither shall I tell you of the safe voyage home, and of the meeting
there. Joy had come at last where sorrow had sojourned so long, and I
was happy in my task that I had fulfilled.

I will tell you, though, what the captain said in his hearty way over
and over again.

To me it used to be:

"Well, you have growed! Why, if you'd stopped another year you'd have
been quite a man. I say, though I never thought you'd ha' done it; 'pon
my word!"

Similar words these to those ofte