He thought of
his little party in San Francisco. They surely would send in search of
him, if he did not appear in a reasonable time. But he felt this hope
was a vain one. In a letter to Edna, written from Lima, he had told her
she must not expect to hear from him for a long time, for, while he was
doing the work he contemplated, it would be impossible for him to
communicate with her.
She would have no reason to suppose that he would start on such an
expedition without making due arrangements for safety and support, and
so would hesitate long before she would commission a vessel to touch
at this point in search of him. If he should starve here, he would die
months before any reasonable person, who knew as much of his affairs
as did Edna, would think the time had arrived to send a relief
expedition for him.
But he did not starve. Ten days overdue, at last the Chilian
schooner appeared and anchored in the cove. She had now no white men
on board but the captain and his mate, for the negroes had improved
so much in seamanship that the economical captain had dispensed with
his Chilian crew.
Captain Horn was delighted to be able to speak again to a fellow-being,
and it pleased him far better to see Maka than any of the others.
"You no eat 'nough, cap'n," said the black man, as he anxiously scanned
the countenance of Captain Horn, which, although the captain was in
better physical condition than perhaps he had ever been in his life, was
thinner than when Maka had seen it last.
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