, as it was named, resolved to have another brush with their old
enemies, the subjects of Ongoloo. What they did, and how they did it,
shall be seen in another chapter.

CHAPTER SIX.

After Zeppa had remained a short time in his new quarters, he began to
take an interest in the children of his savage friends. At first the
mothers of the village were alarmed when they saw their little ones in
his strong arms, playing with his beard, which had by that time grown
long and shaggy, as well as grey like his curly locks; but soon
perceiving that the children had nothing to fear from the strange white
man, they gave themselves no further concern on the subject.

If Zeppa had been in his right mind when the savages first found him, it
is probable that they would have hunted him down and slain him without
remorse--for it is well known that many of the South Sea Islanders
regard shipwrecked persons as victims who have no claim on their
hospitality, but are a sort of windfall to be killed and devoured.
Their treatment of Zeppa, therefore, must have been owing to some
feeling of respect or awe, inspired by his obvious insanity, coupled, no
doubt, with his commanding size and presence as well as his singular
conduct on the occasion of their first meeting.

Whatever the reason, it is certain that the natives amongst whom the
poor madman's lot had thus been cast, treated him in an exceptional
manner, and with an amount of respect that almost amounted to reverence.
At first Ongoloo made a slight attempt to ascertain where his guest had
come from, and what was his previous history, but as Zeppa always met
such inquiries with one of his sweetest smiles, and with no verbal reply
whatever, the chief felt unusually perplexed, dropped the subject, and
began to regard the madman as a species of demigod. Of course no one
else dared to question him, so that ever afterwards he remained in the
eyes of his entertainers as a "Great Mystery."

By degrees Zeppa became intimately acquainted with the little boys and
girls of the village, and took much pleasure in watching them at play.
They soon found out that he was fond of them, and might have become
rather troublesome in their attentions to him, if he had been a busy
man, but as he had nothing whatever to do except follow his own
inclinations, and as his inclinations led him to sympathise with
childhood, he was never ruffled by their familiarities or by their wild
doings around his tent.