# Dave Porter in the South Seas/Chapter 30
#### CHAPTER XXX
##### THE RETAKING OF THE "STORMY PETREL"

For the whole of that day the natives kept at the sweeps of the long canoe, one set of rowers reliev ing the other. The whites were willing to assist, but Soko said the natives could get along best alone, they having their own peculiar manner of handling the craft.
The weather remained fair, with only a bit of a breeze blowing, and the bosom of the ocean was as calm as they could wish. They were soon out of sight of the island, and then all they could behold was the sky above and the sparkling waters on every side.
"It must be terrible to be lost on the ocean," remarked Phil, as he gazed around. "I don't wonder that men go mad, after they have been out days and days."
"And think of having nothing to eat or to drink," said Dave. "Ugh! it gives a fellow the shivers to think of it!"
At noon the whole party partook of a lunch, and toward nightfall had supper. Then the whites went to sleep, and so did half of the natives, the ​remaining blacks keeping at the sweeps, guiding themselves by the stars, now that the sun had gone down.
When the boys awoke they were dismayed to see that a mist covered the sea.
"Hello! I didn't expect this!" cried the senator's son. "Why, a fellow can't see a hundred feet in any direction."
"What are the natives going to do now?" asked Dave of Captain Marshall, who had been awake for some time.
"Soko says they must rest and wait," answered the captain. "He cannot go ahead, for he knows not in what direction to steer."
"I've got a pocket compass!" cried Phil, bringing it forth. "How odd that I didn't think of it before."
The captain took the compass and showed it to the native who could speak English. He had seen such things before, and, after a short talk with the master of the Stormy Petrel, set the others to using the sweeps as before.
It was about ten o'clock of the forenoon that one of the natives, who was watching in the bow, uttered a short cry. At once those at the sweeps stopped pulling.
"What is it?" asked Captain Marshall, quickly.
"Big ship over dare!" announced Soko, a moment later.
​All of the whites looked in the direction pointed out, and through the mist saw a large vessel drift ing along, the sails flapping idly against the masts. The wheel was lashed fast, and nobody was in sight on the deck.
"The Stormy Petrel!" ejaculated Captain Mar shall.
"Are you sure?" asked Dave and Phil, in a breath.
"Sure it's the bark," cried Billy Dill. "Say, but this is great luck, ain't it?" and his face brightened up. "Now we can teach them dirty mutineers a lesson."
"Dat you ship?" asked Soko.
"It is," answered Captain Marshall. "See here, Soko," he went on, "can I depend upon your helping me? I will pay you and your men for whatever you do."
The native shugged his ebony shoulders and then consulted with his fellow-tribesmen. All decided that they would aid the captain, providing he would give them each a piece of silver "so big," pointing out the size of a trade dollar. Captain Marshall agreed on the spot, and preparations were made for boarding the bark.
"It is queer that nobody is in sight!" remarked Phil, as the canoe drew closer.
"Somebody is coming on deck now!" cried Dave, in a low tone, and Paul Shepley appeared, followed ​by Jasper Van Blott and, close behind him, one of the sailors.
"Hello! what's this?" sang out the first mate, on catching sight of the canoe.
"Captain Marshall and the others!" muttered the former supercargo. "Hi! keep away from here!" he roared.
"Surrender, you villains!" called out the captain. "What do you mean by running off with my ship in this fashion?"
"You keep off!" warned Paul Shepley, without answering the question. "Keep off, I tell you!"
"We'll fire on you, if you don't keep off," called the former supercargo, and he brought forth a big pistol.
"Be careful, cap'n, or somebody will git shot!" whispered Billy Dill. "Those fellers look like they was des'prit!"
"Don't you dare to shoot!" called out Captain Marshall. "The first man who fires shall swing from the yardarm!"
The loud talking had brought several sailors to the deck, and they were followed by the second mate, who stared at the canoe and its occupants as if he could not believe his eyes.
"Hello, Captain Marshall!" sang out Bob Sanders. "I am mighty glad you have come."
"Then you are not in this mutiny, Sanders?"
"Not by a jugful! They tried to buy me up, but ​I wouldn't consent. Podders, Diski, and McNabb are not in it, either."
"I am glad to hear it. Sanders, take control of the ship until I get aboard."
"He will do nothing of the kind!" yelled Jasper Van Blott, and was about to turn on the second mate, when the latter hit him a blow in the ear, sending him headlong to the deck.
"McNabb! Podders!" called the second mate. "Grab Mr. Shepley!"
The sailors called upon understood, and before the first mate could turn, one tar had him from behind, co that he could not raise his arms. Then the other seized a pistol and, turning, faced the crew with the weapon.
The turn of affairs had been so sudden that Shepley and Van Blott were taken completely by surprise, as were likewise the sailors who had sided with the rascals, and, for the moment, none of them knew exactly what to do. In the meantime the canoe bumped alongside of the Stormy Petrel, and, catching hold of a trailing rope thrown overboard by the sailor named Diski, Captain Marshall hauled himself to the deck, followed by Billy Dill and the boys.
"Do you surrender?" demanded the captain, striding up to the first mate, revolver in hand.
"Ye-yes!" burst out Shepley. "It's—it's all a mistake, Captain Marshall—all a mistake!"
​"I reckon it was!" answered the captain, grimly. "What about you, Van Blott?" And he turned on the former supercargo, who was struggling to his feet.
"I suppose I've got to give in," muttered Jasper Van Blott.
"And what about you men?" demanded Captain Marshall, turning his stern eyes on the portion of the crew that had mutinied.
"We're with you, cap'n," said one, humbly. "Mr. Shepley led us into this, without us knowin' what we was a-doin'. Ain't that so, mates?"
"That's so," said the others, humbly.
"Are you willing to obey me, after this?"
"Yes! yes!" came in an eager chorus.
After this a long talk took place, and Jasper Van Blott and Paul Shepley were placed in irons and conducted to a closet in the bow of the ship, used for the storage of oil and lanterns. The place was given a rough cleaning, and then the pair were locked inside, Captain Marshall putting the key in his pocket. Both of the prisoners wanted to protest, but the master of the Stormy Petrel would not listen.
"You can do your talking later, when I have time to listen," said he. "Just now I have other matters to attend to."
From Bob Sanders and the three loyal sailors Captain Marshall got a fairly accurate account of ​the mutiny. He was told that Jasper Van Blott had done his best to get all hands to join in the plot. The former supercargo was the prime mover in the affair, and the first mate was a coward and had been little more than his tool. The sailors who had gone in had done so rather unwillingly, and, after thinking the matter over, Captain Marshall decided to read them a stern lecture and then forgive them.
It was now no longer necessary for the natives to take the whites to Sobago Island, and, after a brief consultation, Soko and his men were paid off and given some presents, and then, the mists rising, the canoe was headed back for Yam-kolo Island. It was the last that Dave and his friends saw of these black men, who had proven so friendly.
With the first mate in irons, Bob Sanders was advanced to fill his place. This left the position of second mate vacant, and, after a consultation with the boys, the master of the Stormy Petrel offered Billy Dill the position, and he accepted gladly.
"I always kind o' wanted to be a mate," said the old tar. "I'm tickled to death!" And his face showed it.
With the lifting of the mist a stiff breeze came up, and preparations were made for continuing the voyage to Nanpi. It was found that the last storm had slightly disabled the rudder, which accounted for the fact that the bark had not made ​greater headway on her trip. But additional parts were on board, and by nightfall the damage was made good, and then the Stormy Petrel answered her helm as well as ever.
"And now for Sobago Island!" cried Dave, to his chums. "I hope I have no more trouble in finding Mr. Dunston Porter!"