Part 14 (1/2)

The negro at once laid down his steering paddle and lifted a small square hatch or lid in the deck which was rendered watertight by the same means as the lid in front already described. From the depths thus revealed he extracted a bird of some sort that had been shot and baked the day before. Tearing off a leg he retained it and handed the remainder to Nigel.

”Help you'self, Ma.s.sa Nadgel, an' pa.s.s 'im forid.”

Without helping himself he pa.s.sed it on to Van der Kemp, who drew his knife, sliced off a wing with a ma.s.s of breast, and returned the rest.

”Always help yourself _before_ pa.s.sing the food in future,” said the hermit; ”we don't stand on ceremony here.”

Nigel at once fell in with their custom, tore off the remaining drumstick and began.

”Biskit,” said Moses, with his mouth full, ”an' look out for Spinkie.”

He handed forward a deep tray of the sailor's familiar food, but Nigel was too slow to profit by the warning given, for Spinkie darted both hands into the tray and had stuffed his mouth and cheeks full almost before a man could wink! The negro would have laughed aloud, but the danger of choking was too great; he therefore laughed internally--an operation which could not be fully understood unless seen. ”'Splosions of Perboewatan,” may suggest the thing.

Sorrow, grief--whatever it was that habitually afflicted that monkey--disappeared for the time being, while it devoted itself heart and soul to dinner.

Feelings of a somewhat similar kind animated Nigel as he sat leaning back with his mouth full, a biscuit in one hand, and a drumstick in the other, and his eyes resting dreamily on the horizon of the still tranquil sea, while the bright sun blazed upon his already bronzed face.

To many men the fierce glare of the equatorial sun might have proved trying, but Nigel belonged to the salamander type of humanity and enjoyed the great heat. Van der Kemp seemed to be similarly moulded, and as for Moses, he was in his native element--so was Spinkie.

Strange as it may seem, sea-birds appeared to divine what was going on, for several specimens came circling round the canoe with great outstretched and all but motionless wings, and with solemn sidelong glances of hope which Van der Kemp evidently could not resist, for he flung them sc.r.a.ps of his allowance from time to time.

”If you have plenty of provisions on board, I should like to do that too,” said Nigel.

”Do it,” returned the hermit. ”We have plenty of food for some days, and our guns can at any time replenish the store. I like to feed these creatures,” he added, ”they give themselves over so thoroughly to the enjoyment of the moment, and _seem_ to be grateful. Whether they are so or not, of course, is matter of dispute. Cynics will tell us that they only come to us and fawn upon us because of the memory of past favours and the hope of more to come. I don't agree with them.”

”Neither do I,” said Nigel, warmly. ”Any man who has ever had to do with dogs knows full well that grat.i.tude is a strong element of their nature. And it seems to me that the speaking eyes of Spinkie, to whom I have just given a bit of biscuit, tell of a similar spirit.”

As he spoke, Nigel was conveying another piece of biscuit to his own mouth, when a small brown hand flashed before him, and the morsel, in the twinkling of an eye, was transferred to the monkey's already swollen cheek--whereat Moses again became suddenly ”'splosive” and red, as well as black in the face, for his capacious mouth was inordinately full as usual.

Clear water, from one of the casks, and poured into a tin mug, washed down their cold collation, and then, refreshed and reinvigorated, the trio resumed their paddles, which were not again laid down till the sun was descending towards the western horizon. By that time they were not far from a small wooded islet near the coast of Java, on which Van der Kemp resolved to spend the night.

During the day they had pa.s.sed at some distance many boats and _praus_ and other native vessels, the crews of which ceased to row for a few moments, and gazed with curiosity at the strange craft which glided along so swiftly, and seemed to them little more than a long plank on the water, but these took no further notice of our voyagers. They also pa.s.sed several s.h.i.+ps--part of that constant stream of vessels which pa.s.s westward through those straits laden with the valuable teas and rich silks of China and j.a.pan. In some cases a cheer of recognition, as being an exceptional style of craft, was accorded them, to which the hermit replied with a wave of the hand--Moses and Nigel with an answering cheer.

There is something very pleasant in the rest which follows a day of hard and healthful toil. Our Maker has so ordained it as well as stated it, for is it not written, ”The sleep of the labouring man is sweet”? and our travellers experienced the truth of the statement that night in very romantic circ.u.mstances.

The small rocky islet, not more than a few hundred yards in diameter, which they now approached had several sheltered sandy bays on its sh.o.r.e, which were convenient for landing. The centre was clothed with palm-trees and underwood, so that fuel could be procured, and cocoa-nuts.

”Sometimes,” said the hermit, while he stooped to arrange the fire, after the canoe and cargo had been carried to their camping-place at the edge of the bushes,--”sometimes it is necessary to keep concealed while travelling in these regions, and I carry a little spirit-lamp which enables me to heat a cup of tea or coffee without making a dangerous blaze; but here there is little risk in kindling a fire.”

”I should not have thought there was any risk at all in these peaceful times,” said Nigel, as he unstrapped his blanket and spread it on the ground under an overhanging bush.

”There are no peaceful times among pirates,” returned the hermit; ”and some of the traders in this archipelago are little better than pirates.”

”Where I puts your bed, ma.s.sa?” asked Moses, turning his huge eyes on his master.

”There--under the bush, beside Nigel.”

”An' where would _you_ like to sleep, Ma.s.sa Spinkie?” added the negro, with a low obeisance to the monkey, which sat on the top of what seemed to be its favourite seat--a watercask.

Spinkie treated the question with calm contempt, turned his head languidly to one side, and scratched himself.