The Exiles and Other Stories by Richard Harding Davis


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Page 69

Albert could learn but very little of Opeki; nothing, indeed, but that
it was situated about one hundred miles from the Island of Octavia,
which island, in turn, was simply described as a coaling-station three
hundred miles distant from the coast of California. Steamers from San
Francisco to Yokohama stopped every third week at Octavia, and that
was all that either Captain Travis or his secretary could learn of
their new home. This was so very little, that Albert stipulated to
stay only as long as he liked it, and to return to the States within a
few months if he found such a change of plan desirable.

As he was going to what was an almost undiscovered country, he thought
it would be advisable to furnish himself with a supply of articles
with which he might trade with the native Opekians, and for this
purpose he purchased a large quantity of brass rods, because he had
read that Stanley did so, and added to these brass curtain-chains, and
about two hundred leaden medals similar to those sold by street
peddlers during the Constitutional Centennial Celebration in New York
City.

He also collected even more beautiful but less expensive decorations
for Christmas-trees, at a wholesale house on Park Row. These he hoped
to exchange for furs or feathers or weapons, or for whatever other
curious and valuable trophies the Island of Opeki boasted. He already
pictured his rooms on his return hung fantastically with crossed
spears and boomerangs, feather head-dresses, and ugly idols.

His friends told him that he was doing a very foolish thing, and
argued that once out of the newspaper world, it would be hard to
regain his place in it. But he thought the novel that he would write
while lost to the world at Opeki would serve to make up for his
temporary absence from it, and he expressly and impressively
stipulated that the editor should wire him if there was a war.

Captain Travis and his secretary crossed the continent without
adventure, and took passage from San Francisco on the first steamer
that touched at Octavia. They reached that island in three days, and
learned with some concern that there was no regular communication with
Opeki, and that it would be necessary to charter a sailboat for the
trip. Two fishermen agreed to take them and their trunks, and to get
them to their destination within sixteen hours if the wind held good.
It was a most unpleasant sail. The rain fell with calm, relentless
persistence from what was apparently a clear sky; the wind tossed the
waves as high as the mast and made Captain Travis ill; and as there
was no deck to the big boat, they were forced to huddle up under
pieces of canvas, and talked but little. Captain Travis complained of
frequent twinges of rheumatism, and gazed forlornly over the gunwale
at the empty waste of water.

"If I've got to serve a term of imprisonment on a rock in the middle
of the ocean for four years," he said, "I might just as well have done
something first to deserve it. This is a pretty way to treat a man who
bled for his country. This is gratitude, this is." Albert pulled
heavily on his pipe, and wiped the rain and spray from his face and
smiled.

"Oh, it won't be so bad when we get there," he said; "they say these
Southern people are always hospitable, and the whites will be glad to
see any one from the States."

"There will be a round of diplomatic dinners," said the consul, with
an attempt at cheerfulness. "I have brought two uniforms to wear at
them."

It was seven o'clock in the evening when the rain ceased, and one of
the black, half-naked fishermen nodded and pointed at a little low
line on the horizon.

"Opeki," he said. The line grew in length until it proved to be an
island with great mountains rising to the clouds, and, as they drew
nearer and nearer, showed a level coast running back to the foot of
the mountains and covered with a forest of palms. They next made out a
village of thatched huts around a grassy square, and at some distance
from the village a wooden structure with a tin roof.

"I wonder where the town is?" asked the consul, with a nervous glance
at the fishermen. One of them told him that what he saw was the town.

"That?" gasped the consul. "Is that where all the people on the island
live?"

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Mon 19th Jan 2026, 1:07