"This is a real God. He is much richer than the Evangelical missionaries' God." Joja was a skeptic toward the Christian religion. He asked me whether our God was black or white, but thought He could hardly be white, since He had made man in his own image and had made the black people too. He asked me when Jesus had come to Earth. I told him. Then he asked when America was discovered. I told him that. He asked me why Jesus did not go there too and preach his gospel. While I was in the Cameroons, a German squadron circling the globe put in at Duala and anchored near shore. It consisted of the _Kaiser_, the _King Albert_, and the _Strassburg_. The black chieftains from the interior were entertained on the magnificent ships. They particularly admired the cannon in the turrets as they slowly swung around and fired. They asked whether the guns would shoot over the Cameroon mountains. When this fact was affirmed, their respect was great. The champagne with which they were served increased their respect. The English instigated the Haussa, a mercantile tribe that roams the entire country plying trade, to spread the story that the ships were English ships which the English had merely loaned to the Germans. Having to take the _Panther_ back to Germany for overhauling, we steamed north. Our first stop was to be for provisions at Fuerteventura, one of the islands of the Canaries, a vacationing and health resort. I was on watch. Straight ahead, a speck of land appeared on the horizon, Fuerteventura, the island for which we were bound. It was a green island. Presently, through my glass, I could distinguish waving palms and white houses, white houses with green shutters and red roofs. A vague feeling made my heart jump. "Luckner," I thought, "it is the same island, the island you saw when you were a cabin boy aboard the _Niobe_, the island of the fairy princess." It was. There could be no doubt of it. So clear was memory impressed by a great feeling that I could recognize individual houses I had gazed upon seventeen years before while I had leaned on the rail dreaming a happy dream. "Luckner," I said, "you are Phelax once again. They call you 'pig,' and you clean the pigs and the pharmacy. There is the island. Open your eyes wide. Is it not lovely and beautiful?" It was as beautiful as when I had seen it from aboard the _Niobe_. The houses still looked pretty and clean. There were terraces with gardens and white paths lined with palms. "Phelax," I thought, "it is fit to be the home of the fairy princess. It _is_ the home of the fairy princess. She must be there, with her delicate blue eyes and golden hair, she whom you have thought about all these years." We put into port. I attended to my duties. The other officers asked me why I was so preoccupied. I answered their questions silently to myself. "Phelax, now you must go and inspect your island. Perhaps you may find your fairy princess."