ast, Kapoiolani and her
attendants, accompanied by Tom and the boys, returned to her village.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

HAPPY RE-UNIONS.

Several weeks passed away, and no vessel appeared in which the voyagers
could obtain a passage to Honolulu. They were rapidly acquiring a
knowledge of the language of the island, and Harry and Tom employed much
of their time in instructing the natives. Bass did not make so much
progress as the rest, and began to grow very weary of the life he led.

"The truth is, Dickey," observed Harry to him one day, "your heart is
not in the matter. I wish to reach home, I confess; but if it were not
for the dear ones there, I should be content to labour on as I am now
doing. I never find the day too long."

"I wish I were like you," said Bass; "but I cannot bring myself to care
about the people."

"My dear Dickey," said Harry, "you must pray for grace, then, to do what
you know to be right. Think of the great value of human souls, and of
the inestimable price which was paid that they might enjoy the happiness
of heaven, and then you will become more anxious to win them."

Bass tried to do as his friend advised, and in a short time he was
almost as eager as Harry to instruct the natives, and found himself
rapidly acquiring their language to enable him to do so.

One day Tom and the two boys set off to visit a village at some distance
along the coast. After going some way they saw, by the appearance of
the sky, that a storm was threatening, but they hoped to reach their
destination before it broke. It came on, however, more rapidly than
they had expected.

As they doubled a headland they caught sight of a ship close in with the
land, in nearly the same dangerous position that the _Swordfish_ had
been. Tom stopped and looked at her.

"She appears to be a whaler, and pretty full," observed Harry.

"A whaler she is; there is no doubt about that," answered Tom. "Just do
you scan her narrowly, and tell me if you have ever seen a ship like
her."

"What!" exclaimed Harry, shading his eyes, and gazing at her earnestly.
"Do you really think she is the _Steadfast_? She is wonderfully like
her, as far as I can judge at this distance."

"I know every yard in her canvas, and the _Steadfast_ she is, I am
nearly as certain as that we three stand here!" said old Tom, his voice
showing the unusual agitation he felt.

"If she is not, she is very like her," observed Bass.

"Oh, she is--I am ce