Chapter Five.

Chapter Five.How we found Jack Penny.The captain’s ideas were not quite correct. Certainly the little trading vessel had been run upon one of the many reefs that spread in all directions along the dangerous coast; but it was not the Malay who was the guilty party.As far as I was concerned it seemed to me a good job, for it brought the schooner to a stand-still, so that we could overtake it. No thought occurred to me that the rocks might have knocked a hole in her bottom, and that if a storm came on she would most likely go to pieces.Very little was said now, for every one’s attention was taken up by the threatened hurricane, and our efforts to reach the schooner before it should come on.It was a long severe race, in which we all took a turn at the oars, literally rowing as it seemed to me for our lives. At times it was as if we must be overtaken by the fierce black clouds in the distance, beneath which there was a long misty white line. The sea-birds kept dashing by us, uttering wild cries, and there was overhead an intense silence, while in the distance we could hear a low dull murmuring roar, that told of the coming mischief.Every now and then it seemed to me that we must be overtaken by the long surging line, that it was now plain to see was pursuing us, and I wondered whether we should be able to swim and save our lives when it came upon us with a hiss and a roar, such as I had often heard when on the beach.“We shall never do it,” said one of the men, who half-jumped from his seat the next moment as the captain leaned forward from where he was rowing and gave him a sound box on the ears.“Pull, you cowardly humbug!” he cried. “Not do it? A set of furriners wouldn’t do it; but we’re Englishmen, and we’re going to do it. If we don’t, it won’t be our fault. Pull!”This trifling incident had its effect, for the men pulled harder than ever, exhausted though they were. It was a struggle for life now, and I knew it; but somehow I did not feel frightened in the least, but stunned and confused, and at the same time interested, as I saw the great line of haze and foam coming on. Then I was listening to the dull roar, which was rapidly increasing into what seemed a harsh yell louder than thunder.“Pull, my lads!” shouted the captain, with his voice sounding strange and harsh in the awful silence around us, for, loud as was the roar of the storm, it seemed still afar off.The men pulled, and then we relieved them again, with the great drops gathering on our faces in the intense heat; and my breath came thick and short, till I felt as it were a sense of burning in my chest. Then I grew half-blind with my eyes staring back at the wall of haze; and then, as I felt that I should die if I strained much longer at that oar, I heard the captain shout:“In oars!” and I found that we were alongside the schooner, and close under her lee.There was just time to get on board, and we were in the act of hauling up the boat, when, with an awful whistle and shriek, the storm was upon us, and we were all clinging for life to that which was nearest at hand.Now, I daresay you would like me to give you a faithful account of my impressions of that storm, and those of one who went through it from the time that the hurricane struck us till it passed over, leaving the sky clear, the sun shining, and the sea heaving slowly and without a single crest.I feel that I can do justice to the theme, so here is my faithful description of that storm.A horrid wet, stifling, flogging row.That’s all I can recollect. That’s all I’m sure that the doctor could recollect, or the captain or anybody else. We were just about drowned and stunned, and when we came to ourselves it was because the storm had passed over.“What cheer, ho!” shouted the captain, and we poor flogged and drenched objects sat up and looked about us, to find that the waves had lifted the schooner off the rocks, and driven her a long way out of her course; that the sails that had been set were blown to ribbons; and finally that the schooner, with the last exception, was very little the worse for the adventure.“She ain’t made no water much,” said the captain, after going below; “and—here, I say, where’s that Malay scoundrel?”“Down in the cabin—locked in,” said an ill-used voice; and I rubbed the salt-water out of my eyes, and stared at the tall thin figure before me, leaning up against the bulwark as if his long thin legs were too weak to support his long body, though his head was so small that it could not have added very much weight.“Why, hallo! Who the blue jingo are you?” roared the skipper.The tall thin boy wrinkled up his forehead, and did not answer.“Here, I say, where did you spring from?” roared the captain.The tall thin boy took one hand out of his trousers’ pocket with some difficulty, for it was so wet that it clung, and pointed down below.The skipper scratched his head furiously, and stared again.“Here, can’t you speak, you long-legged thing?” he cried. “Who are you?”“Why, it’s Jack Penny!” I exclaimed.“Jack who?” cried the captain.“Jack Penny, sir. His father is a squatter about ten miles from our place.”“Well, but how camehe—I mean that tall thin chap, not his father—to be squatting aboard my schooner?”“Why, Jack,” I said, “when did you come aboard?”“Come aboard?” he said slowly, as if it took him some time to understand what I said. “Oh, the night before you did.”“But where have you been all the time?”“Oh, down below there,” said Jack slowly.“But what did you come for?”“Wanted to,” he said coolly. “If I had said so, they wouldn’t—you wouldn’t have let me come.”“But why did you come, Jack?” I said.“’Cause I wanted,” he replied surlily. “Who are you that you’re to have all the fun and me get none!”“Fun!” I said.“Yes, fun. Ain’t you goin’ to find your father?”“Of course I am; but what’s that got to do with fun?”“Never you mind; I’ve come, and that’s all about it,” he said slowly; and thrusting his hands back into his trousers’ pockets as fast as the wet clinging stuff would let him, he began to whistle.“But it arn’t all about it,” cried the captain; “and so you’ll find. You arn’t paid no passage, and I arn’t going to have no liberties took with my ship. Here, where’s that Malay chap?”“I told you where he was, didn’t I?” snarled Jack Penny. “Are you deaf? In the cabin, locked in.”“What’s he doing locked in my cabin?” roared the captain. “I say, are you skipper here, or am I? What’s he doing in my cabin locked in?”“Rubbing his sore head, I s’pose,” drawled Jack Penny. “I hit him as hard as I could with one o’ them fence rails.”“Fence rails!” cried the captain, who looked astounded at the big thin boy’s coolness, and then glanced in the direction he pointed beneath the bulwarks. “Fence rails! What do you mean—one of them capstan bars?”“I don’t know what you call ’em,” said Jack. “I give him a regular wunner on the head.”“What for, you dog?”“Here, don’t you call me a dog or there’ll be a row,” cried Jack, rising erect and standing rather shakily about five feet eleven, looking like a big boy stretched to the bursting point and then made fast. “He was going to kill the black fellow with his knife after knocking him down. I wasn’t going to stand by and see him do that, was I?”“Well, I s’pose not,” said the captain, who looked puzzled. “Where is the black fellow? Here, where’s Jimmy?”“Down that square hole there, that wooden well-place,” said Jack, pointing to the forecastle hatch. “He slipped down there when the yaller chap hit him.”“Look here—” said the captain as I made for the hatch to look after Jimmy. “But stop a minute, let’s have the black up.”Two of the men went below and dragged up poor Jimmy, who was quite stunned, and bleeding freely from a wound on the head.“Well, that’s some proof of what you say, my fine fellow,” continued the captain, as the doctor knelt down to examine poor Jimmy’s head and I fetched some water to bathe his face. “What did you do next?”“Next? Let me see,” drawled Jack Penny; “what did I do next? Oh! I know. That chap was running away with the ship, and I took hold of that wheel thing and turned her round, so as to come back to you when you kept waving your cap.”“Hah! yes. Well, what then?”“Oh, the thing wanted oiling or greasing; it wouldn’t go properly. It got stuck fast, and the ship wouldn’t move; and then the storm came. I wish you wouldn’t bother so.”“Well, Iamblessed,” cried the captain staring. “I should have been proud to have been your father, my young hopeful. ’Pon my soul I should. You are a cool one, you are. You go and run the prettiest little schooner there is along the coast upon the rocks, and then you have the confounded impudence to look me in the face and tell me the rudder wants greasing and it stuck.”“So it did!” cried Jack Penny indignantly. “Think I don’t know? I heard it squeak. You weren’t on board. The ship wouldn’t move afterwards.”“Here, I say; which are you?” cried the captain; “a rogue or a fool?”“I d’know,” said Jack coolly. “Father used to say I was a fool sometimes. P’r’aps I am. I say, though, if I were you I’d go and tie down that yaller Malay chap in the cabin. He’s as vicious as an old man kangaroo in a water-hole.”“Your father’s wrong, my fine fellow,” said the captain with a grim smile; “you ar’n’t a fool, for a fool couldn’t give such good advice as that. Here, doctor, p’r’aps you’ll lend me one of your shooting things. You can get into your cabin; I can’t get into mine.”The doctor nodded, and in the excitement of the time we forgot all about our drenched clothes as he went down and returned directly with his revolver, and another for the captain’s use.“Thank’ye, doctor,” said the captain grimly, cocking the piece. “I don’t want to use it, and I daresay the sight of it will cool our yaller friend; but it’s just as well to be prepared. What! are you coming too? Thought your trade was to mend holes and not make ’em.”“My trade is to save life, captain,” said the doctor quietly. “Perhaps I shall be helping to save life by coming down with you.”“P’r’aps you will, doctor. Here, we don’t want you two boys.”“We only want to come and see,” I said in an ill-used tone; and before the doctor could speak the captain laughingly said, “Come on,” and we followed them down below, the men bringing up the rear, armed with bars and hatchets.The captain did not hesitate for a moment, but went straight down to the cabin door, turned the key, and threw it open, though all the while he knew that there was a man inside fiercer than some savage beast. But had he been a little more cautious it would have saved trouble, for the Malay had evidently been waiting as he heard steps, and as the door was opened he made a spring, dashed the doctor and captain aside, overset me, and, as the men gave way, reached the deck, where he ran right forward and then close up to the foremast, stood with his long knife or kris in his hand, rolling his opal eyeballs, and evidently prepared to strike at the first who approached.“The dog! he has been at the spirits,” growled the captain fiercely. “Confound him! I could shoot him where he stands as easy as could be; but I arn’t like you, doctor, I don’t like killing a man. Never did yet, and don’t want to try.”“Don’t fire at him,” said the doctor excitedly; “a bullet might be fatal. Let us all rush at him and beat him down.”“That’s all very fine, doctor,” said the captain; “but if we do some one’s sure to get an ugly dig or two from that skewer. Two or three of us p’r’aps. You want to get a few surgery jobs, but I’d rather you didn’t.”All this while the Malay stood brandishing his kris and showing his teeth at us in a mocking smile, as if we were a set of the greatest cowards under the sun.“Look here, Harriet,” cried the captain; “you’d better give in; we’re six to one, and must win. Give in, and you shall have fair play.”“Cowards! come on, cowards!” shouted the Malay fiercely, and he made a short rush from the mast, and two of the hatchet men retreated; but the Malay only laughed fiercely, and shrank back to get in shelter by the mast.“We shall have to rush him or shoot him,” said the captain, rubbing his nose with pistol barrel. “Now then, you dog; surrender!” he roared; and lowering the pistol he fired at the Malay’s feet, the bullet splintering up the deck; but the fellow only laughed mockingly.“We shall have to rush him,” growled the captain; “unless you can give him a dose of stuff, doctor, to keep him quiet.”“Oh, yes; I can give him a dose that will quiet him for a couple of hours or so, but who’s to make him take it?”“When we treed the big old man kangaroo who ripped up Pompey, Caesar, and Crassus,” drawled Jack Penny, who was looking on with his hands in his pockets, “I got up the tree and dropped a rope with a noose in it over his head. Seems to me that’s what you ought to do now.”“Look’ye here,” cried the captain, “don’t you let your father call you fool again, youngster, because it’s letting perhaps a respectable old man tell lies. Tell you what, if you’ll shin up the shrouds, and drop a bit of a noose over his head while we keep him in play, I won’t say another word about your coming on board without leave.”“Oh, all right! I don’t mind trying to oblige you, but you must mind he don’t cut it if I do.”“You leave that to me,” cried the captain. “I’ll see to that. There, take that thin coil there, hanging on a belaying-pin.”The tall thin fellow walked straight to the coil of thin rope, shook it out, and made a running noose at the end, and then, with an activity that surprised me, who began to feel jealous that this thin weak-looking fellow should have proved himself more clever and thoughtful than I was, he sprang into the shrouds, the Malay hardly noticing, evidently believing that the boy was going aloft to be safe. He looked up at him once, as Jack Penny settled himself at the masthead, but turned his attention fiercely towards us as the captain arranged his men as if for a rush, forming them into a semicircle.“When I say ready,” cried the captain, “all at him together.”The Malay heard all this, and his eyes flashed and his teeth glistened as he threw himself into an attitude ready to receive his foes, his body bent forward, his right and left arms close to his sides, and his whole frame well balanced on his legs.“Ready?” cried the captain.“All ready!” was the reply; and I was so intent upon the fierce lithe savage that I forgot all about Jack Penny till I heard the men answer.There was the whizzing noise of a rope thrown swiftly, and in an instant a ring had passed over the Malay’s body, which was snatched tight, pinioning his arms to his side, and Jack Penny came down with a rush on the other side of the fore-yard, drawing the savage a few feet from the deck, where he swung helplessly, and before he could recover himself he had been seized, disarmed, and was lying bound upon the deck.“I didn’t mean to come down so fast as that,” drawled Jack, rubbing his back. “I’ve hurt myself a bit.”“Then we’ll rub you,” cried the captain joyously. “By George, my boy, you’re a regular two yards of trump.”The excitement of the encounter with the Malay being over, there was time to see to poor Jimmy, who was found to be suffering from a very severe cut on the head, one of so serious a nature that for some time the poor fellow lay insensible; but the effect of bathing and bandaging his wound was to make him open his eyes at last, and stare round for some moments before he seemed to understand where he was. Then recollection came back, and he grinned at me and the doctor.The next moment a grim look of rage came over his countenance, and springing up he rushed to where the Malay was lying upon the deck under the bulwarks, and gave him a furious kick.“Bad brown fellow!” he shouted. “Good for nothing! Hi—wup—wup—wup!”Every utterance of the wordwupwas accompanied by a kick, and the result was that the Malay sprang up, snatched his kris from where it had been thrown on the head of a cask, and striking right and left made his way aft, master of the deck once more.“Well, that’s nice,” growled the captain.“I thought them knots wouldn’t hold,” drawled Jack Penny. “He’s been wriggling and twisting his arms and legs about ever since he lay there. I thought he’d get away.”“Then why didn’t you say so, you great, long-jointed two-foot rule?” roared the captain. “Here, now then, all together. I’m skipper here. Rush him, my lads; never mind his skewer.”The captain’s words seemed to electrify his little crew, and, I venture to say, his passengers as well. Every one seized some weapon, and, headed by the skipper, we charged down upon the savage as he stood brandishing his weapon.He stood fast, watchful as a tiger, for some moments, and then made a dash at our extreme left, where Jack Penny and I were standing; and I have no doubt that he would have cut his way through to our cost, but for a quick motion of the captain, who struck out with his left hand, hitting the Malay full in the cheek.The man made a convulsive spring, and fell back on the edge of the bulwarks, where he seemed to give a writhe, and then, before a hand could reach him, there was a loud splash, and he had disappeared in the sea.We all rushed to the side, but the water was thick from the effects of the storm, and we could not for a few moments make out anything. Then all at once the swarthy, convulsed face of the man appeared above the wave, and he began to swim towards the side, yelling for help.“Ah!” said the skipper, smiling, “that’s about put him out. Nothing like cold water for squenching fire.”“Hi—wup! hi—wup!” shouted Jimmy, who forgot his wound, and danced up and down, holding on by the bulwarks, his shining black face looking exceedingly comic with a broad bandage of white linen across his brow. “Hi—wup! hi—wup!” he shouted; “bunyip debble shark coming—bite um legs.”“Help!” shrieked the Malay in piteous tones, as he swam on, clutching at the slippery sides of the schooner.“Help!” growled the captain; “what for? Here, you, let me have that there kris. Hitch it on that cord.”As he spoke the captain threw down the thin line with which the Malay had been bound, the poor wretch snatching at it frantically; but as he did so it was pulled away from his despairing clutch.“I could noose him,” drawled Jack Penny coolly. “I’ve often caught father’s rams like that.”“Yes, but your father’s rams hadn’t got knives,” said the captain grimly.“No, but they’d got horns,” said Jack quietly. “Ain’t going to drown him, are you?”“Not I, boy; he’ll drown himself if we leave him alone.”“I don’t like to see fellows drown,” said Jack; and he left the bulwarks and sat down on the hatchway edge. “Tell a fellow when it’s all over, Joe Carstairs.”“Help, help!” came hoarsely from the poor wretch; and my hands grew wet inside, and a horrible sensation seemed to be attacking my chest, as I watched the struggles of the drowning man with starting eyes. For though he swam like a fish, the horror of his situation seemed to have unnerved him, and while he kept on swimming, it was with quick wearying effort, and he was sinking minute by minute lower in the water.“For Heaven’s sake, throw the poor wretch a rope, captain,” said the doctor.“What! to come aboard and knife some of us?” growled the captain. “Better let him drown. Plenty of better ones than him to be had for a pound a month.”“Oh, captain!” I cried indignantly, for my feelings were too much for me; and I seized a rope just as the Malay went down, after uttering a despairing shriek.“Let that rope alone, boy,” said the skipper with a grim smile. “There, he’s come up again. Ketch hold!” he cried, and he threw his line so that the Malay could seize it, which he did, winding it round and round one arm, while the slowly-sailing schooner dragged him along through the sea. “I’m only giving him a reg’lar good squencher, doctor. I don’t want him aboard with a spark left in him to break out again: we’ve had enough of that. Haul him aboard, lads, and shove him in the chain locker to get dry. We’ll set him ashore first chance.”The Malay was hauled aboard with no very gentle hands by the white sailors, and as soon as he reached the deck he began crawling to the captain’s feet, to which he clung, with gesture after gesture full of humility, as ha talked excitedly in a jargon of broken English and Malay.“That’s what I don’t like in these fellows,” said Jack Penny quietly; “they’re either all bubble or else all squeak.”“Yes; he’s about squenched now, squire,” said the captain. “Here, shove him under hatches, and it’s lucky for you I’m not in a hanging humour to-day. You’d better behave yourself, or you may be brought up again some day when I am.”As the captain spoke to the streaming, shivering wretch he made a noose in the rope he held, manipulating it as if he were really going to hang the abject creature, in whom the fire of rage had quite become extinct. Then the sailors took hold of him, and he uttered a despairing shriek; but he cooled down as he found that he was only to be made a prisoner, and was thrust below, with Jimmy dancing a war-dance round him as he went, the said dance consisting of bounds from the deck and wavings of his waddy about his head.As the Malay was secured, Jack Penny rose from his seat and walked to the side of the vessel, to spit into the water with every sign of disgust upon his face.“Yah!” he said; “I wouldn’t squeak like that, not if they hung me.”“Well, let’s see,” cried the captain, catching him by the collar; “hanging is the punishment for stowaways, my fine fellow.”“Get out!” said Jack, giving himself a sort of squirm and shaking himself free. “You ain’t going to scare me; and, besides, you know what you said. I say, though, when are we going to have something to eat?”The captain stared at Jack’s serious face for a few moments, and then he joined with the doctor and me in a hearty laugh.“I don’t well understand you yet, my fine fellow,” he said; “perhaps I shall, though, afore I’ve done. Here, come down; you do look as if a little wholesome vittles would do you good. Are you hungry then?”“Hungry!” said Jack, without a drawl, and he gave his teeth a gnash; “why, I ain’t had nothing but some damper and a bottle o’ water since I came on board.”

The captain’s ideas were not quite correct. Certainly the little trading vessel had been run upon one of the many reefs that spread in all directions along the dangerous coast; but it was not the Malay who was the guilty party.

As far as I was concerned it seemed to me a good job, for it brought the schooner to a stand-still, so that we could overtake it. No thought occurred to me that the rocks might have knocked a hole in her bottom, and that if a storm came on she would most likely go to pieces.

Very little was said now, for every one’s attention was taken up by the threatened hurricane, and our efforts to reach the schooner before it should come on.

It was a long severe race, in which we all took a turn at the oars, literally rowing as it seemed to me for our lives. At times it was as if we must be overtaken by the fierce black clouds in the distance, beneath which there was a long misty white line. The sea-birds kept dashing by us, uttering wild cries, and there was overhead an intense silence, while in the distance we could hear a low dull murmuring roar, that told of the coming mischief.

Every now and then it seemed to me that we must be overtaken by the long surging line, that it was now plain to see was pursuing us, and I wondered whether we should be able to swim and save our lives when it came upon us with a hiss and a roar, such as I had often heard when on the beach.

“We shall never do it,” said one of the men, who half-jumped from his seat the next moment as the captain leaned forward from where he was rowing and gave him a sound box on the ears.

“Pull, you cowardly humbug!” he cried. “Not do it? A set of furriners wouldn’t do it; but we’re Englishmen, and we’re going to do it. If we don’t, it won’t be our fault. Pull!”

This trifling incident had its effect, for the men pulled harder than ever, exhausted though they were. It was a struggle for life now, and I knew it; but somehow I did not feel frightened in the least, but stunned and confused, and at the same time interested, as I saw the great line of haze and foam coming on. Then I was listening to the dull roar, which was rapidly increasing into what seemed a harsh yell louder than thunder.

“Pull, my lads!” shouted the captain, with his voice sounding strange and harsh in the awful silence around us, for, loud as was the roar of the storm, it seemed still afar off.

The men pulled, and then we relieved them again, with the great drops gathering on our faces in the intense heat; and my breath came thick and short, till I felt as it were a sense of burning in my chest. Then I grew half-blind with my eyes staring back at the wall of haze; and then, as I felt that I should die if I strained much longer at that oar, I heard the captain shout:

“In oars!” and I found that we were alongside the schooner, and close under her lee.

There was just time to get on board, and we were in the act of hauling up the boat, when, with an awful whistle and shriek, the storm was upon us, and we were all clinging for life to that which was nearest at hand.

Now, I daresay you would like me to give you a faithful account of my impressions of that storm, and those of one who went through it from the time that the hurricane struck us till it passed over, leaving the sky clear, the sun shining, and the sea heaving slowly and without a single crest.

I feel that I can do justice to the theme, so here is my faithful description of that storm.

A horrid wet, stifling, flogging row.

That’s all I can recollect. That’s all I’m sure that the doctor could recollect, or the captain or anybody else. We were just about drowned and stunned, and when we came to ourselves it was because the storm had passed over.

“What cheer, ho!” shouted the captain, and we poor flogged and drenched objects sat up and looked about us, to find that the waves had lifted the schooner off the rocks, and driven her a long way out of her course; that the sails that had been set were blown to ribbons; and finally that the schooner, with the last exception, was very little the worse for the adventure.

“She ain’t made no water much,” said the captain, after going below; “and—here, I say, where’s that Malay scoundrel?”

“Down in the cabin—locked in,” said an ill-used voice; and I rubbed the salt-water out of my eyes, and stared at the tall thin figure before me, leaning up against the bulwark as if his long thin legs were too weak to support his long body, though his head was so small that it could not have added very much weight.

“Why, hallo! Who the blue jingo are you?” roared the skipper.

The tall thin boy wrinkled up his forehead, and did not answer.

“Here, I say, where did you spring from?” roared the captain.

The tall thin boy took one hand out of his trousers’ pocket with some difficulty, for it was so wet that it clung, and pointed down below.

The skipper scratched his head furiously, and stared again.

“Here, can’t you speak, you long-legged thing?” he cried. “Who are you?”

“Why, it’s Jack Penny!” I exclaimed.

“Jack who?” cried the captain.

“Jack Penny, sir. His father is a squatter about ten miles from our place.”

“Well, but how camehe—I mean that tall thin chap, not his father—to be squatting aboard my schooner?”

“Why, Jack,” I said, “when did you come aboard?”

“Come aboard?” he said slowly, as if it took him some time to understand what I said. “Oh, the night before you did.”

“But where have you been all the time?”

“Oh, down below there,” said Jack slowly.

“But what did you come for?”

“Wanted to,” he said coolly. “If I had said so, they wouldn’t—you wouldn’t have let me come.”

“But why did you come, Jack?” I said.

“’Cause I wanted,” he replied surlily. “Who are you that you’re to have all the fun and me get none!”

“Fun!” I said.

“Yes, fun. Ain’t you goin’ to find your father?”

“Of course I am; but what’s that got to do with fun?”

“Never you mind; I’ve come, and that’s all about it,” he said slowly; and thrusting his hands back into his trousers’ pockets as fast as the wet clinging stuff would let him, he began to whistle.

“But it arn’t all about it,” cried the captain; “and so you’ll find. You arn’t paid no passage, and I arn’t going to have no liberties took with my ship. Here, where’s that Malay chap?”

“I told you where he was, didn’t I?” snarled Jack Penny. “Are you deaf? In the cabin, locked in.”

“What’s he doing locked in my cabin?” roared the captain. “I say, are you skipper here, or am I? What’s he doing in my cabin locked in?”

“Rubbing his sore head, I s’pose,” drawled Jack Penny. “I hit him as hard as I could with one o’ them fence rails.”

“Fence rails!” cried the captain, who looked astounded at the big thin boy’s coolness, and then glanced in the direction he pointed beneath the bulwarks. “Fence rails! What do you mean—one of them capstan bars?”

“I don’t know what you call ’em,” said Jack. “I give him a regular wunner on the head.”

“What for, you dog?”

“Here, don’t you call me a dog or there’ll be a row,” cried Jack, rising erect and standing rather shakily about five feet eleven, looking like a big boy stretched to the bursting point and then made fast. “He was going to kill the black fellow with his knife after knocking him down. I wasn’t going to stand by and see him do that, was I?”

“Well, I s’pose not,” said the captain, who looked puzzled. “Where is the black fellow? Here, where’s Jimmy?”

“Down that square hole there, that wooden well-place,” said Jack, pointing to the forecastle hatch. “He slipped down there when the yaller chap hit him.”

“Look here—” said the captain as I made for the hatch to look after Jimmy. “But stop a minute, let’s have the black up.”

Two of the men went below and dragged up poor Jimmy, who was quite stunned, and bleeding freely from a wound on the head.

“Well, that’s some proof of what you say, my fine fellow,” continued the captain, as the doctor knelt down to examine poor Jimmy’s head and I fetched some water to bathe his face. “What did you do next?”

“Next? Let me see,” drawled Jack Penny; “what did I do next? Oh! I know. That chap was running away with the ship, and I took hold of that wheel thing and turned her round, so as to come back to you when you kept waving your cap.”

“Hah! yes. Well, what then?”

“Oh, the thing wanted oiling or greasing; it wouldn’t go properly. It got stuck fast, and the ship wouldn’t move; and then the storm came. I wish you wouldn’t bother so.”

“Well, Iamblessed,” cried the captain staring. “I should have been proud to have been your father, my young hopeful. ’Pon my soul I should. You are a cool one, you are. You go and run the prettiest little schooner there is along the coast upon the rocks, and then you have the confounded impudence to look me in the face and tell me the rudder wants greasing and it stuck.”

“So it did!” cried Jack Penny indignantly. “Think I don’t know? I heard it squeak. You weren’t on board. The ship wouldn’t move afterwards.”

“Here, I say; which are you?” cried the captain; “a rogue or a fool?”

“I d’know,” said Jack coolly. “Father used to say I was a fool sometimes. P’r’aps I am. I say, though, if I were you I’d go and tie down that yaller Malay chap in the cabin. He’s as vicious as an old man kangaroo in a water-hole.”

“Your father’s wrong, my fine fellow,” said the captain with a grim smile; “you ar’n’t a fool, for a fool couldn’t give such good advice as that. Here, doctor, p’r’aps you’ll lend me one of your shooting things. You can get into your cabin; I can’t get into mine.”

The doctor nodded, and in the excitement of the time we forgot all about our drenched clothes as he went down and returned directly with his revolver, and another for the captain’s use.

“Thank’ye, doctor,” said the captain grimly, cocking the piece. “I don’t want to use it, and I daresay the sight of it will cool our yaller friend; but it’s just as well to be prepared. What! are you coming too? Thought your trade was to mend holes and not make ’em.”

“My trade is to save life, captain,” said the doctor quietly. “Perhaps I shall be helping to save life by coming down with you.”

“P’r’aps you will, doctor. Here, we don’t want you two boys.”

“We only want to come and see,” I said in an ill-used tone; and before the doctor could speak the captain laughingly said, “Come on,” and we followed them down below, the men bringing up the rear, armed with bars and hatchets.

The captain did not hesitate for a moment, but went straight down to the cabin door, turned the key, and threw it open, though all the while he knew that there was a man inside fiercer than some savage beast. But had he been a little more cautious it would have saved trouble, for the Malay had evidently been waiting as he heard steps, and as the door was opened he made a spring, dashed the doctor and captain aside, overset me, and, as the men gave way, reached the deck, where he ran right forward and then close up to the foremast, stood with his long knife or kris in his hand, rolling his opal eyeballs, and evidently prepared to strike at the first who approached.

“The dog! he has been at the spirits,” growled the captain fiercely. “Confound him! I could shoot him where he stands as easy as could be; but I arn’t like you, doctor, I don’t like killing a man. Never did yet, and don’t want to try.”

“Don’t fire at him,” said the doctor excitedly; “a bullet might be fatal. Let us all rush at him and beat him down.”

“That’s all very fine, doctor,” said the captain; “but if we do some one’s sure to get an ugly dig or two from that skewer. Two or three of us p’r’aps. You want to get a few surgery jobs, but I’d rather you didn’t.”

All this while the Malay stood brandishing his kris and showing his teeth at us in a mocking smile, as if we were a set of the greatest cowards under the sun.

“Look here, Harriet,” cried the captain; “you’d better give in; we’re six to one, and must win. Give in, and you shall have fair play.”

“Cowards! come on, cowards!” shouted the Malay fiercely, and he made a short rush from the mast, and two of the hatchet men retreated; but the Malay only laughed fiercely, and shrank back to get in shelter by the mast.

“We shall have to rush him or shoot him,” said the captain, rubbing his nose with pistol barrel. “Now then, you dog; surrender!” he roared; and lowering the pistol he fired at the Malay’s feet, the bullet splintering up the deck; but the fellow only laughed mockingly.

“We shall have to rush him,” growled the captain; “unless you can give him a dose of stuff, doctor, to keep him quiet.”

“Oh, yes; I can give him a dose that will quiet him for a couple of hours or so, but who’s to make him take it?”

“When we treed the big old man kangaroo who ripped up Pompey, Caesar, and Crassus,” drawled Jack Penny, who was looking on with his hands in his pockets, “I got up the tree and dropped a rope with a noose in it over his head. Seems to me that’s what you ought to do now.”

“Look’ye here,” cried the captain, “don’t you let your father call you fool again, youngster, because it’s letting perhaps a respectable old man tell lies. Tell you what, if you’ll shin up the shrouds, and drop a bit of a noose over his head while we keep him in play, I won’t say another word about your coming on board without leave.”

“Oh, all right! I don’t mind trying to oblige you, but you must mind he don’t cut it if I do.”

“You leave that to me,” cried the captain. “I’ll see to that. There, take that thin coil there, hanging on a belaying-pin.”

The tall thin fellow walked straight to the coil of thin rope, shook it out, and made a running noose at the end, and then, with an activity that surprised me, who began to feel jealous that this thin weak-looking fellow should have proved himself more clever and thoughtful than I was, he sprang into the shrouds, the Malay hardly noticing, evidently believing that the boy was going aloft to be safe. He looked up at him once, as Jack Penny settled himself at the masthead, but turned his attention fiercely towards us as the captain arranged his men as if for a rush, forming them into a semicircle.

“When I say ready,” cried the captain, “all at him together.”

The Malay heard all this, and his eyes flashed and his teeth glistened as he threw himself into an attitude ready to receive his foes, his body bent forward, his right and left arms close to his sides, and his whole frame well balanced on his legs.

“Ready?” cried the captain.

“All ready!” was the reply; and I was so intent upon the fierce lithe savage that I forgot all about Jack Penny till I heard the men answer.

There was the whizzing noise of a rope thrown swiftly, and in an instant a ring had passed over the Malay’s body, which was snatched tight, pinioning his arms to his side, and Jack Penny came down with a rush on the other side of the fore-yard, drawing the savage a few feet from the deck, where he swung helplessly, and before he could recover himself he had been seized, disarmed, and was lying bound upon the deck.

“I didn’t mean to come down so fast as that,” drawled Jack, rubbing his back. “I’ve hurt myself a bit.”

“Then we’ll rub you,” cried the captain joyously. “By George, my boy, you’re a regular two yards of trump.”

The excitement of the encounter with the Malay being over, there was time to see to poor Jimmy, who was found to be suffering from a very severe cut on the head, one of so serious a nature that for some time the poor fellow lay insensible; but the effect of bathing and bandaging his wound was to make him open his eyes at last, and stare round for some moments before he seemed to understand where he was. Then recollection came back, and he grinned at me and the doctor.

The next moment a grim look of rage came over his countenance, and springing up he rushed to where the Malay was lying upon the deck under the bulwarks, and gave him a furious kick.

“Bad brown fellow!” he shouted. “Good for nothing! Hi—wup—wup—wup!”

Every utterance of the wordwupwas accompanied by a kick, and the result was that the Malay sprang up, snatched his kris from where it had been thrown on the head of a cask, and striking right and left made his way aft, master of the deck once more.

“Well, that’s nice,” growled the captain.

“I thought them knots wouldn’t hold,” drawled Jack Penny. “He’s been wriggling and twisting his arms and legs about ever since he lay there. I thought he’d get away.”

“Then why didn’t you say so, you great, long-jointed two-foot rule?” roared the captain. “Here, now then, all together. I’m skipper here. Rush him, my lads; never mind his skewer.”

The captain’s words seemed to electrify his little crew, and, I venture to say, his passengers as well. Every one seized some weapon, and, headed by the skipper, we charged down upon the savage as he stood brandishing his weapon.

He stood fast, watchful as a tiger, for some moments, and then made a dash at our extreme left, where Jack Penny and I were standing; and I have no doubt that he would have cut his way through to our cost, but for a quick motion of the captain, who struck out with his left hand, hitting the Malay full in the cheek.

The man made a convulsive spring, and fell back on the edge of the bulwarks, where he seemed to give a writhe, and then, before a hand could reach him, there was a loud splash, and he had disappeared in the sea.

We all rushed to the side, but the water was thick from the effects of the storm, and we could not for a few moments make out anything. Then all at once the swarthy, convulsed face of the man appeared above the wave, and he began to swim towards the side, yelling for help.

“Ah!” said the skipper, smiling, “that’s about put him out. Nothing like cold water for squenching fire.”

“Hi—wup! hi—wup!” shouted Jimmy, who forgot his wound, and danced up and down, holding on by the bulwarks, his shining black face looking exceedingly comic with a broad bandage of white linen across his brow. “Hi—wup! hi—wup!” he shouted; “bunyip debble shark coming—bite um legs.”

“Help!” shrieked the Malay in piteous tones, as he swam on, clutching at the slippery sides of the schooner.

“Help!” growled the captain; “what for? Here, you, let me have that there kris. Hitch it on that cord.”

As he spoke the captain threw down the thin line with which the Malay had been bound, the poor wretch snatching at it frantically; but as he did so it was pulled away from his despairing clutch.

“I could noose him,” drawled Jack Penny coolly. “I’ve often caught father’s rams like that.”

“Yes, but your father’s rams hadn’t got knives,” said the captain grimly.

“No, but they’d got horns,” said Jack quietly. “Ain’t going to drown him, are you?”

“Not I, boy; he’ll drown himself if we leave him alone.”

“I don’t like to see fellows drown,” said Jack; and he left the bulwarks and sat down on the hatchway edge. “Tell a fellow when it’s all over, Joe Carstairs.”

“Help, help!” came hoarsely from the poor wretch; and my hands grew wet inside, and a horrible sensation seemed to be attacking my chest, as I watched the struggles of the drowning man with starting eyes. For though he swam like a fish, the horror of his situation seemed to have unnerved him, and while he kept on swimming, it was with quick wearying effort, and he was sinking minute by minute lower in the water.

“For Heaven’s sake, throw the poor wretch a rope, captain,” said the doctor.

“What! to come aboard and knife some of us?” growled the captain. “Better let him drown. Plenty of better ones than him to be had for a pound a month.”

“Oh, captain!” I cried indignantly, for my feelings were too much for me; and I seized a rope just as the Malay went down, after uttering a despairing shriek.

“Let that rope alone, boy,” said the skipper with a grim smile. “There, he’s come up again. Ketch hold!” he cried, and he threw his line so that the Malay could seize it, which he did, winding it round and round one arm, while the slowly-sailing schooner dragged him along through the sea. “I’m only giving him a reg’lar good squencher, doctor. I don’t want him aboard with a spark left in him to break out again: we’ve had enough of that. Haul him aboard, lads, and shove him in the chain locker to get dry. We’ll set him ashore first chance.”

The Malay was hauled aboard with no very gentle hands by the white sailors, and as soon as he reached the deck he began crawling to the captain’s feet, to which he clung, with gesture after gesture full of humility, as ha talked excitedly in a jargon of broken English and Malay.

“That’s what I don’t like in these fellows,” said Jack Penny quietly; “they’re either all bubble or else all squeak.”

“Yes; he’s about squenched now, squire,” said the captain. “Here, shove him under hatches, and it’s lucky for you I’m not in a hanging humour to-day. You’d better behave yourself, or you may be brought up again some day when I am.”

As the captain spoke to the streaming, shivering wretch he made a noose in the rope he held, manipulating it as if he were really going to hang the abject creature, in whom the fire of rage had quite become extinct. Then the sailors took hold of him, and he uttered a despairing shriek; but he cooled down as he found that he was only to be made a prisoner, and was thrust below, with Jimmy dancing a war-dance round him as he went, the said dance consisting of bounds from the deck and wavings of his waddy about his head.

As the Malay was secured, Jack Penny rose from his seat and walked to the side of the vessel, to spit into the water with every sign of disgust upon his face.

“Yah!” he said; “I wouldn’t squeak like that, not if they hung me.”

“Well, let’s see,” cried the captain, catching him by the collar; “hanging is the punishment for stowaways, my fine fellow.”

“Get out!” said Jack, giving himself a sort of squirm and shaking himself free. “You ain’t going to scare me; and, besides, you know what you said. I say, though, when are we going to have something to eat?”

The captain stared at Jack’s serious face for a few moments, and then he joined with the doctor and me in a hearty laugh.

“I don’t well understand you yet, my fine fellow,” he said; “perhaps I shall, though, afore I’ve done. Here, come down; you do look as if a little wholesome vittles would do you good. Are you hungry then?”

“Hungry!” said Jack, without a drawl, and he gave his teeth a gnash; “why, I ain’t had nothing but some damper and a bottle o’ water since I came on board.”

Chapter Six.How Jimmy was frightened by the Bunyip.“Oh, I don’t know that I’ve got any more to say about it,” said Jack Penny to me as we sat next day in the bows of the schooner, with our legs dangling over the side. “I heard all about your going, and there was nothing to do at home now, so I said to myself that I’d go, and here I am.”“Yes, here you are,” I said; “but you don’t mean to tell me that you intended to go up the country with us?”“Yes, I do,” he said.“Nonsense, Jack! it is impossible!” I said warmly.“I say!”“Well?”“New Guinea don’t belong to you, does it?”“Why, of course not.”“Oh, I thought p’r’aps you’d bought it.”“Don’t talk nonsense, Jack.”“Don’t you talk nonsense then, and don’t you be so crusty. If I like to land in New Guinea, and take a walk through the country, it’s as free for me as it is for you, isn’t it?”“Of course it is.”“Then just you hold your tongue, Mister Joe Carstairs; and if you don’t like to walk along with me, why you can walk by yourself.”“And what provisions have you made for the journey?” I said.“Oh, I’m all right, my lad!” he drawled. “Father lent me his revolver, and I’ve got my double gun, and two pound o’ powder and a lot o’ shot.”“Anything else?”“Oh, I’ve got my knife, and a bit o’ string, and two fishing-lines and a lot of hooks, and I brought my pipe and my Jew’s-harp, and I think that’s all.”“I’m glad you brought your Jew’s-harp,” I said ironically.“So am I,” he said drily. “Yah! I know: you’re grinning at me, but a Jew’s-harp ain’t a bad thing when you’re lonely like, all by yourself, keeping sheep and nobody to speak to for a week together but Gyp. I say, Joe, I brought Gyp,” he added with a smile that made his face look quite pleasant.“What! your dog?” I cried.“Yes; he’s all snug down below, and he hasn’t made a sound. He don’t like it, but if I tell him to do a thing he knows he’s obliged to do it.”“I say, I wonder what the captain will say if he knows you’ve got a dog on board?”“I sha’n’t tell him, and if he don’t find it out I shall pay him for Gyp’s passage just the same as I shall pay him for mine. I’ve got lots of money, and I hid on board to save trouble. I ain’t a cheat.”“No, I never thought you were, Jack,” I said, for I had known him for some years, and once or twice I had been fishing with him, though we were never companions. “But it’s all nonsense about your going with us. The doctor said this morning that the notion was absurd.”“Let him mind his salts-and-senna and jollop,” said Jack sharply. “Who’s he, I should like to know? I knowed your father as much as he did. He’s given me many a sixpence for birds’ eggs and beetles and snakes I’ve got for him. Soon as I heard you were going to find him, I says to father, ‘I’m going too.’”“And what did your father say?”“Said I was a fool.”“Ah! of course,” I exclaimed.“No, it ain’t ‘ah, of course,’ Mr Clever,” he cried. “Father always says that to me whatever I do, but he’s very fond of me all the same.”Just then the captain came forward with his glass under his arm, and his hands deep down in his pockets. He walked with his legs very wide apart, and stopped short before us, his straw hat tilted right over his nose, and see-sawing himself backwards and forwards on his toes and heels.“You’re a nice young man, arn’t you now?” he said to Jack.“No, I’m only a boy yet,” said Jack quietly.“Well, you’re tall enough to be a man, anyhow. What’s your height?”“Five foot ’leven,” said Jack.“And how old are you?”“Seventeen next ’vember,” said Jack.“Humph!” said the captain.“Here, how much is it?” said Jack, thrusting his hand in his pocket. “I’ll pay now and ha’ done with it.”“Pay what?”“My passage-money.”“Oh!” said the captain quietly, “I see. Well, I think we’d better settle that by-and-by when you bring in claim for salvage.”The captain pronounced it “sarvidge,” and Jack stared.“What savage?” he said. “Do you mean Joe Carstairs’ black fellow?”“Do I mean Joe Carstairs’ grandmother, boy? I didn’t say savage; I said salvage—saving of the ship from pirates.”“Oh, I see what you mean,” replied Jack. “I sha’n’t bring in any claim. I knew that Malay chap wasn’t doing right, and stopped him, that’s all.”“Well, we won’t say any more about stowing away, then,” said the captain. “Had plenty to eat this morning?”“Oh yes, I’m better now,” drawled Jack. “I was real bad yesterday, and never felt so hollow before.”The captain nodded and went back, while Jack turned to me, and nodding his head said slowly:“I like the captain. Now let’s go and see how your black fellow’s head is.”Jimmy was lying under a bit of awning rigged up with a scrap of the storm-torn sail; and as soon as he saw us his white teeth flashed out in the light.“Well, Jimmy, how are you?” I said, as Jack Penny stood bending down over him, and swaying gently to and fro as if he had hinges in his back.“Jimmy better—much better. Got big fly in um head—big bunyip fly. All buzz—buzz—round and round—buzz in um head. Fedge doctor take um out.”“Here, doctor,” I shouted; and he came up. “Jimmy has got a fly in his head.”“A bee in his bonnet, you mean,” he said, bending down and laying his hand on the black’s temples.“Take um out,” said Jimmy excitedly. “Buzz—buzz—bunyip fly.”“Yes, I’ll take it out, Jimmy,” said the doctor quietly; “but not to-day.”“When take um out?” cried the black eagerly; “buzz—buzz. Keep buzz.”“To-morrow or next day. Here, lie still, and I’ll get your head ready for the operation.”The preparation consisted in applying a thick cloth soaked in spirits and water to the feverish head, the evaporation in the hot climate producing a delicious sense of coolness, which made Jimmy say softly:“Fly gone—sleep now,” and he closed his eyes, seeming to be asleep till the doctor had gone back to his seat on the deck, where he was studying a chart of the great island we were running for. But as soon as he was out of hearing Jimmy opened first one eye and then another. Then in a whisper, as he gently took up his waddy:“No tell doctor; no tell captain fellow. Jimmy go knock brown fellow head flap to-night.”“What?” I cried.“He no good brown fellow. Knock head off. Overboard: fis eat up.”“What does he say; he’s going to knock that Malay chap’s head off?” drawled Jack.“Yes, Jimmy knock um head flap.”“You dare to touch him, Jimmy,” I said, “and I’ll send you back home.”“Jimmy not knock um head flap?” he said staring.“No. You’re not to touch him.”“Mass Joe gone mad. Brown fellow kill all a man. Jimmy kill um.”“You are not to touch him,” I said. “And now go to sleep or I shall go and tell the captain.”Jimmy lifted up his head and looked at me. Then he banged it down upon his pillow, which was one of those gooseberry-shaped rope nets, stuffed full of oakum, and called a fender, while we went forward once more to talk to the doctor about his chart, for Jack Penny was comporting himself exactly as if he had become one of the party, though I had made up my mind that he was to go back with the captain when we were set ashore.All the same, at Jack Penny’s urgent request I joined him in the act of keeping the presence of the other passenger a secret—I mean Gyp the dog, to whom I was stealthily introduced by Jack, down in a very evil-smelling part of the hold, and for whom I saved scraps of meat and bits of fish from my dinner every day.The introduction was as follows on the part of Jack:“Gyp, old man, this is Joe Carstairs. Give him your paw.”It was very dark, but I was just able to make out a pair of fiery eyes, and an exceedingly shaggy curly head—I found afterwards that Gyp’s papa had been an Irish water spaniel, and his mamma some large kind of hound; and Jack informed me that Gyp was a much bigger dog than his mamma—then a rough scratchy paw was dabbed on my hand, and directly after my fingers were wiped by a hot moist tongue. At the same time there was a whimpering noise, and though I did not know it then, I had made one of the ugliest but most faithful friends I ever had.The days glided by, and we progressed very slowly, for the weather fell calm after the typhoon, and often for twenty-four hours together we did nothing but drift about with the current, the weather being so hot that we were glad to sit under the shade of a sail.The doctor quite took to Jack Penny, saying that he was an oddity, but not a bad fellow. I began to like him better myself, though he did nothing to try and win my liking, being very quiet and distant with us both, and watching us suspiciously, as if he thought we werealways making plots to get rid of him, and thwart his plans.Gyp had remained undiscovered, the poor brute lying as quiet as a mouse, except when Jack Penny and I went down to feed him, when he expressed his emotion by rapping the planks hard with his tail.At last the captain, who had been taking observations, tapped me on the shoulder one hot mid-day, and said:“There, squire, we shall see the coast to-morrow before this time, and I hope the first thing you set eyes on will be your father, waving his old hat to us to take him off.”Just then Jimmy, whose wound had healed rapidly, and who had forgotten all about the big bunyip fly buzzing in his head, suddenly popped his face above the hatchway with his eyes starting, his hair looking more shaggy than usual, and his teeth chattering with horror.He leaped up on the deck, and began striking it with the great knob at the end of his waddy, shouting out after every blow.“Debble, debble—big bunyip debble. Jimmy, Jimmy see big bunyip down slow!”“Here, youngster, fetch my revolver,” shouted the captain to me. “Here, doctor, get out your gun, that Malay chap’s loose again.”“A no—a no—a no,” yelled Jimmy, banging at the deck. “Big bunyip—no brown fellow—big black bunyip debble, debble!”“Get out, you black idiot; it’s the Malay.”“A no—a no—a no; big black bunyip. ’Gin eat black fellow down slow.”To my astonishment, long quiet Jack Penny went up to Jimmy and gave him a tremendous kick, to which the black would have responded by a blow with his war-club had I not interposed.“What did you kick him for, Jack?” I cried.“A great scuffle-headed black fool! he’ll let it out now about Gyp. Make him be quiet.”It was too late, for the captain and the doctor were at the hatchway, descending in spite of Jimmy’s shouts and cries that the big bunyip—the great typical demon of the Australian aborigine—would eat them.“Shoot um—shoot um—bing, bang!”whopwent Jimmy’s waddy on the deck; and in dread lest they should fire at the unfortunate dog in the dark, I went up and told the captain, the result being that Gyp was called up on deck, and the great beast nearly went mad with delight, racing about, fawning on his master and on me, and ending by crouching down at my feet with his tongue lolling out, panting and blinking his eyes, unaccustomed to the glare of daylight.“You’re in this game, then, eh, Master Carstairs?” said the captain.“Well, yes, sir; Penny here took me into his confidence about having brought the dog, and of course I could not say a word.”“Humph! Nice game to have with me, ’pon my word. You’re a pretty penny, you are, young man,” he added, turning to Jack. “I ought to toss you—overboard.”“I’ll pay for Gyp’s passage,” said Jack coolly. “I wish you wouldn’t make such a fuss.”The captain muttered something about double-jointed yard measures, and went forward without another word, while Gyp selected a nice warm place on the deck, and lay down to bask on his side, but not until he had followed Jimmy up the port-side and back along the starboard, sniffing his black legs, while that worthy backed from him, holding his waddy ready to strike, coming to me afterwards with a look of contempt upon his noble savage brow, and with an extra twist to his broad nose, to say:“Jimmy know all a time only big ugly dog. Not bunyip ’tall.”

“Oh, I don’t know that I’ve got any more to say about it,” said Jack Penny to me as we sat next day in the bows of the schooner, with our legs dangling over the side. “I heard all about your going, and there was nothing to do at home now, so I said to myself that I’d go, and here I am.”

“Yes, here you are,” I said; “but you don’t mean to tell me that you intended to go up the country with us?”

“Yes, I do,” he said.

“Nonsense, Jack! it is impossible!” I said warmly.

“I say!”

“Well?”

“New Guinea don’t belong to you, does it?”

“Why, of course not.”

“Oh, I thought p’r’aps you’d bought it.”

“Don’t talk nonsense, Jack.”

“Don’t you talk nonsense then, and don’t you be so crusty. If I like to land in New Guinea, and take a walk through the country, it’s as free for me as it is for you, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is.”

“Then just you hold your tongue, Mister Joe Carstairs; and if you don’t like to walk along with me, why you can walk by yourself.”

“And what provisions have you made for the journey?” I said.

“Oh, I’m all right, my lad!” he drawled. “Father lent me his revolver, and I’ve got my double gun, and two pound o’ powder and a lot o’ shot.”

“Anything else?”

“Oh, I’ve got my knife, and a bit o’ string, and two fishing-lines and a lot of hooks, and I brought my pipe and my Jew’s-harp, and I think that’s all.”

“I’m glad you brought your Jew’s-harp,” I said ironically.

“So am I,” he said drily. “Yah! I know: you’re grinning at me, but a Jew’s-harp ain’t a bad thing when you’re lonely like, all by yourself, keeping sheep and nobody to speak to for a week together but Gyp. I say, Joe, I brought Gyp,” he added with a smile that made his face look quite pleasant.

“What! your dog?” I cried.

“Yes; he’s all snug down below, and he hasn’t made a sound. He don’t like it, but if I tell him to do a thing he knows he’s obliged to do it.”

“I say, I wonder what the captain will say if he knows you’ve got a dog on board?”

“I sha’n’t tell him, and if he don’t find it out I shall pay him for Gyp’s passage just the same as I shall pay him for mine. I’ve got lots of money, and I hid on board to save trouble. I ain’t a cheat.”

“No, I never thought you were, Jack,” I said, for I had known him for some years, and once or twice I had been fishing with him, though we were never companions. “But it’s all nonsense about your going with us. The doctor said this morning that the notion was absurd.”

“Let him mind his salts-and-senna and jollop,” said Jack sharply. “Who’s he, I should like to know? I knowed your father as much as he did. He’s given me many a sixpence for birds’ eggs and beetles and snakes I’ve got for him. Soon as I heard you were going to find him, I says to father, ‘I’m going too.’”

“And what did your father say?”

“Said I was a fool.”

“Ah! of course,” I exclaimed.

“No, it ain’t ‘ah, of course,’ Mr Clever,” he cried. “Father always says that to me whatever I do, but he’s very fond of me all the same.”

Just then the captain came forward with his glass under his arm, and his hands deep down in his pockets. He walked with his legs very wide apart, and stopped short before us, his straw hat tilted right over his nose, and see-sawing himself backwards and forwards on his toes and heels.

“You’re a nice young man, arn’t you now?” he said to Jack.

“No, I’m only a boy yet,” said Jack quietly.

“Well, you’re tall enough to be a man, anyhow. What’s your height?”

“Five foot ’leven,” said Jack.

“And how old are you?”

“Seventeen next ’vember,” said Jack.

“Humph!” said the captain.

“Here, how much is it?” said Jack, thrusting his hand in his pocket. “I’ll pay now and ha’ done with it.”

“Pay what?”

“My passage-money.”

“Oh!” said the captain quietly, “I see. Well, I think we’d better settle that by-and-by when you bring in claim for salvage.”

The captain pronounced it “sarvidge,” and Jack stared.

“What savage?” he said. “Do you mean Joe Carstairs’ black fellow?”

“Do I mean Joe Carstairs’ grandmother, boy? I didn’t say savage; I said salvage—saving of the ship from pirates.”

“Oh, I see what you mean,” replied Jack. “I sha’n’t bring in any claim. I knew that Malay chap wasn’t doing right, and stopped him, that’s all.”

“Well, we won’t say any more about stowing away, then,” said the captain. “Had plenty to eat this morning?”

“Oh yes, I’m better now,” drawled Jack. “I was real bad yesterday, and never felt so hollow before.”

The captain nodded and went back, while Jack turned to me, and nodding his head said slowly:

“I like the captain. Now let’s go and see how your black fellow’s head is.”

Jimmy was lying under a bit of awning rigged up with a scrap of the storm-torn sail; and as soon as he saw us his white teeth flashed out in the light.

“Well, Jimmy, how are you?” I said, as Jack Penny stood bending down over him, and swaying gently to and fro as if he had hinges in his back.

“Jimmy better—much better. Got big fly in um head—big bunyip fly. All buzz—buzz—round and round—buzz in um head. Fedge doctor take um out.”

“Here, doctor,” I shouted; and he came up. “Jimmy has got a fly in his head.”

“A bee in his bonnet, you mean,” he said, bending down and laying his hand on the black’s temples.

“Take um out,” said Jimmy excitedly. “Buzz—buzz—bunyip fly.”

“Yes, I’ll take it out, Jimmy,” said the doctor quietly; “but not to-day.”

“When take um out?” cried the black eagerly; “buzz—buzz. Keep buzz.”

“To-morrow or next day. Here, lie still, and I’ll get your head ready for the operation.”

The preparation consisted in applying a thick cloth soaked in spirits and water to the feverish head, the evaporation in the hot climate producing a delicious sense of coolness, which made Jimmy say softly:

“Fly gone—sleep now,” and he closed his eyes, seeming to be asleep till the doctor had gone back to his seat on the deck, where he was studying a chart of the great island we were running for. But as soon as he was out of hearing Jimmy opened first one eye and then another. Then in a whisper, as he gently took up his waddy:

“No tell doctor; no tell captain fellow. Jimmy go knock brown fellow head flap to-night.”

“What?” I cried.

“He no good brown fellow. Knock head off. Overboard: fis eat up.”

“What does he say; he’s going to knock that Malay chap’s head off?” drawled Jack.

“Yes, Jimmy knock um head flap.”

“You dare to touch him, Jimmy,” I said, “and I’ll send you back home.”

“Jimmy not knock um head flap?” he said staring.

“No. You’re not to touch him.”

“Mass Joe gone mad. Brown fellow kill all a man. Jimmy kill um.”

“You are not to touch him,” I said. “And now go to sleep or I shall go and tell the captain.”

Jimmy lifted up his head and looked at me. Then he banged it down upon his pillow, which was one of those gooseberry-shaped rope nets, stuffed full of oakum, and called a fender, while we went forward once more to talk to the doctor about his chart, for Jack Penny was comporting himself exactly as if he had become one of the party, though I had made up my mind that he was to go back with the captain when we were set ashore.

All the same, at Jack Penny’s urgent request I joined him in the act of keeping the presence of the other passenger a secret—I mean Gyp the dog, to whom I was stealthily introduced by Jack, down in a very evil-smelling part of the hold, and for whom I saved scraps of meat and bits of fish from my dinner every day.

The introduction was as follows on the part of Jack:

“Gyp, old man, this is Joe Carstairs. Give him your paw.”

It was very dark, but I was just able to make out a pair of fiery eyes, and an exceedingly shaggy curly head—I found afterwards that Gyp’s papa had been an Irish water spaniel, and his mamma some large kind of hound; and Jack informed me that Gyp was a much bigger dog than his mamma—then a rough scratchy paw was dabbed on my hand, and directly after my fingers were wiped by a hot moist tongue. At the same time there was a whimpering noise, and though I did not know it then, I had made one of the ugliest but most faithful friends I ever had.

The days glided by, and we progressed very slowly, for the weather fell calm after the typhoon, and often for twenty-four hours together we did nothing but drift about with the current, the weather being so hot that we were glad to sit under the shade of a sail.

The doctor quite took to Jack Penny, saying that he was an oddity, but not a bad fellow. I began to like him better myself, though he did nothing to try and win my liking, being very quiet and distant with us both, and watching us suspiciously, as if he thought we werealways making plots to get rid of him, and thwart his plans.

Gyp had remained undiscovered, the poor brute lying as quiet as a mouse, except when Jack Penny and I went down to feed him, when he expressed his emotion by rapping the planks hard with his tail.

At last the captain, who had been taking observations, tapped me on the shoulder one hot mid-day, and said:

“There, squire, we shall see the coast to-morrow before this time, and I hope the first thing you set eyes on will be your father, waving his old hat to us to take him off.”

Just then Jimmy, whose wound had healed rapidly, and who had forgotten all about the big bunyip fly buzzing in his head, suddenly popped his face above the hatchway with his eyes starting, his hair looking more shaggy than usual, and his teeth chattering with horror.

He leaped up on the deck, and began striking it with the great knob at the end of his waddy, shouting out after every blow.

“Debble, debble—big bunyip debble. Jimmy, Jimmy see big bunyip down slow!”

“Here, youngster, fetch my revolver,” shouted the captain to me. “Here, doctor, get out your gun, that Malay chap’s loose again.”

“A no—a no—a no,” yelled Jimmy, banging at the deck. “Big bunyip—no brown fellow—big black bunyip debble, debble!”

“Get out, you black idiot; it’s the Malay.”

“A no—a no—a no; big black bunyip. ’Gin eat black fellow down slow.”

To my astonishment, long quiet Jack Penny went up to Jimmy and gave him a tremendous kick, to which the black would have responded by a blow with his war-club had I not interposed.

“What did you kick him for, Jack?” I cried.

“A great scuffle-headed black fool! he’ll let it out now about Gyp. Make him be quiet.”

It was too late, for the captain and the doctor were at the hatchway, descending in spite of Jimmy’s shouts and cries that the big bunyip—the great typical demon of the Australian aborigine—would eat them.

“Shoot um—shoot um—bing, bang!”whopwent Jimmy’s waddy on the deck; and in dread lest they should fire at the unfortunate dog in the dark, I went up and told the captain, the result being that Gyp was called up on deck, and the great beast nearly went mad with delight, racing about, fawning on his master and on me, and ending by crouching down at my feet with his tongue lolling out, panting and blinking his eyes, unaccustomed to the glare of daylight.

“You’re in this game, then, eh, Master Carstairs?” said the captain.

“Well, yes, sir; Penny here took me into his confidence about having brought the dog, and of course I could not say a word.”

“Humph! Nice game to have with me, ’pon my word. You’re a pretty penny, you are, young man,” he added, turning to Jack. “I ought to toss you—overboard.”

“I’ll pay for Gyp’s passage,” said Jack coolly. “I wish you wouldn’t make such a fuss.”

The captain muttered something about double-jointed yard measures, and went forward without another word, while Gyp selected a nice warm place on the deck, and lay down to bask on his side, but not until he had followed Jimmy up the port-side and back along the starboard, sniffing his black legs, while that worthy backed from him, holding his waddy ready to strike, coming to me afterwards with a look of contempt upon his noble savage brow, and with an extra twist to his broad nose, to say:

“Jimmy know all a time only big ugly dog. Not bunyip ’tall.”

Chapter Seven.How we stopped the Blackbird Catchers.The captain was right, for we made the south coast of New Guinea theverynext morning, and as I caught sight of the land that I believed to be holding my father as in a prison, a strange mingling of pain and pleasure filled my breast I looked excitedly and long through the doctor’s double glass, and he shook hands with me afterwards, as if he thoroughly appreciated my feelings in the matter.It was a lovely morning, with a pleasant breeze blowing, and as we drew nearer we made out a vessel very similar in build to our own going in the same direction.“Why, they are for the same port, I should think!”“I don’t know,” said the skipper rather oddly. “We’re for a little place I know, where the savages are pretty friendly, and I’ve been talking it over with the doctor as to its being a good starting-place for you, and he thinks it will be. There it lies,” he said, pointing north-east. “We can soon make it now.”“Looks a nicer place than our land,” said Jack Penny, as I stood with him gazing wonderingly at the forest and mountain scenery that hour by hour grew more clear. “I think I shall like Noo Guinea.”The day glided on with the look-out growing more and more interesting; and at last, when we were pretty near, we could see the other schooner had outsailed us, and was within a short distance of a scattered collection of huts; while a little crowd of the natives was on the sandy beach busily launching their canoes, in which they paddled out towards the other vessel.“I don’t like that,” said the skipper suddenly, as he was using his glass. “That’s bad for us.”“What is?” I said eagerly.“That there schooner going before us. They’re blackbird catchers, or I’m a Dutchman.”“Blackbird catchers?” I said. “Why, I thought there were no blackbirds out of Europe.”“Just hark at him,” said the captain, turning to the doctor. “Blackbirds, boy, why, there’s thousands; and it’s them varmint who go in for the trade of catching ’em as makes the coast unsafe for honest men.”“What do you mean?” I cried, and I became aware of the fact that Jack Penny was bending over me like a bamboo.“Mean, boy? just you take the doctor’s little double-barrelled telescope and watch and see.”I took the glass and looked intently, watching through it the scene of the blacks paddling up to the schooner, and holding up what seemed to be fruit and birds for sale.All at once I saw something fall into one of the canoes, which immediately sank, and eight of its occupants were left struggling in the water.To my great relief I saw a small boat rowed round from the other side of the little vessel, evidently, as I thought, to go to the help of the poor creatures; but, to my horror, I saw that two men stood up in the boat, and, as it was rowed, they struck at the swimming men with heavy bars, and dragged them one by one into the boat.I saw four saved like this, and then the boat was rowed rapidly in pursuit of the other four, who were swimming as hard as they could, as they tried to overtake the canoes, whose occupants were making for the shore.The noise of the shouts reached our ears faintly, and I saw one of the men picked up by the last canoe, and the other three were literally hunted by the schooner’s boat, diving like ducks and trying every feat they could think of to avoid capture; but oars beat hands in the water, and I saw two of the fugitives struck on the head by a fellow in the bows of the boat, and then they were dragged over the side.There was one more savage in the water, and he swam rapidly and well, besides which, he had gained some distance during the time taken up in capturing his fellows. As he had changed his direction somewhat I had a better view of the chase, and I felt horrified to see how rapidly the boat gained upon him till it was so near that it could be only a matter of minutes before he would be worn out and treated in the same way as his unfortunate fellows.At last the boat overtook the poor wretch, but he dived down and it passed over him, the blow struck at his head merely making a splash in the water, when up he came, his black head just showing above the surface, and he struggled in another direction for his liberty.To add to the excitement of the scene the sandy shore about the huts was lined with savages, who were rushing about in a tremendous state of excitement, shaking their spears and yelling, but showing plainly that they were a very cowardly race, for not one of them made an effort to launch a canoe and try to save his brother in distress.There could be but one end to this cruel tragedy, so I thought; but I was wrong. Again and again the boat overtook the poor fellow, but he dived and escaped even though blows were struck at him with a boat-hook; but it was evident that he was growing weaker, and that he stayed below a shorter time.All at once, as if the men had become furious at the length of the chase, I saw the boat rowed rapidly down upon him; but the savage dived once more, evidently went right under the boat, and came up full thirty yards astern, swimming now straight for the shore.Then all at once I saw him throw up his arms and disappear, as if he had been snatched under.“Out of his misery,” said a deep voice beside me; and turning I found that the captain had been watching the scene through his long glass.“What do you mean?” I said.“Sharks took him down, poor chap,” said the captain. “Sharks is ignorant, or they would have grabbed the white fellows instead.”As I still watched the scene, with my brow wet with perspiration, I saw the boat make now for the schooner, and quite a dozen canoes put off from the shore.“Lor’, what a thing ignorance is, and how far niggers are behind white men in pluck! Why, if these fellows knew what they were about, they might easily overhaul that little schooner, take their brothers out of her, and give the blackbird catchers such a lesson as they’d never remember and never forget, for they’d kill the lot. There ain’t a breath o’ wind.”“But they will take them, won’t they, captain?” I cried.“No, my lad, not they. They’ll go and shout and throw a few spears, and then go back again; but they’ll bear malice, my lad. All white folks who come in ships will be the same to them, and most likely some poor innocent boat’s crew will be speared, and all on account of the doings of these blackbird catchers.”“But what do they do with the poor fellows?” I cried.“Reg’larly sell ’em for slaves, though slavery’s done away with, my boy.”“But will not the blacks rescue their friends?” I said.“No, my lad.”“Then we must,” I cried excitedly; and Jack Penny threw up his cap and cried “Hooray!” Gyp started to his feet and barked furiously, and Jimmy leaped in the air, came down in a squatting position, striking the deck a tremendous blow with his waddy, and shouting “Hi—wup, wup—wup,” in an increasing yell.The captain, hardened by familiarity with such scenes, laid his hand upon my shoulder, and smiled at me kindly as he shook his head.“No, no, my lad, that would not do.”“Not do!” I cried, burning with indignation. “Are we to stand by and see such cruelties practised?”“Yes, my lad; law says we musn’t interfere. It’s the law’s job to put it down; but it’s very slow sometimes.”“But very sure, captain,” said the doctor quietly. “And when it does move it is crushing to evil-doers. The captain is quite right, Joe, my boy,” he continued, turning to me. “We must not stir in this case. I’ve heard of such atrocities before, but did not know that they were so common.”“Common as blackguards,” said the captain, “It’s regular slavery. There, what did I tell you, my lad?” he continued, as he pointed to the canoes, which were returning after making a demonstration. “These poor blacks are afraid of the guns. It’s all over—unless—”He stopped short, scratching his head, and staring first at the schooner and then at us in turn.“Unless what, captain?” I said excitedly.“Here, let’s do a bit o’ bounce for once in our lives,” said the bluff old fellow. “Get out your revolvers and shooting-tackle, and let’s see if we can’t frighten the beggars. Only mind, doctor, and you too, my young bantam, our weapons is only for show. No firing, mind; but if we can bully those chaps into giving up their blackbirds, why we will.”The boat was lowered, and with a goodly display of what Jack Penny called dangerous ironmongery, we started with three men, but not until the captain had seen that the Malay was safely secured. Then we started, and the people aboard the other schooner were so busy with their captives that we got alongside, and the captain, Doctor Grant, and I had climbed on deck before a red-faced fellow with a violently inflamed nose came up to us, and, with an oath, asked what we wanted there.“Here, you speak,” whispered the captain to Doctor Grant. “I’m riled, and I shall be only using more bad language than is good for these youngsters to hear. Give it to him pretty warm, though, all the same, doctor.”“D’yer hear?” said the red-faced fellow again. “What do you want here?”“Those poor wretches, you slave-dealing ruffian,” cried the doctor, who looked quite white as he drew himself up and seemed to tower over the captain of the other schooner, who took a step back in astonishment, but recovered himself directly and advanced menacingly.“Come for them, have you, eh?” he roared; “then you’ll go without ’em. Here, over you go; off my ship, you—”The scoundrel did not finish his speech, for as he spoke he clapped a great rough hairy paw on the doctor’s shoulder, and then our friend seemed to shrink back at the contact; but it was only to gather force, like a wave, for, somehow, just then his fist seemed to dart out, and the ruffianly captain staggered back and then fell heavily on the deck.Half a dozen men sprang forward at this, but Doctor Grant did not flinch, he merely took out his revolver and examined its lock, saying:“Will you have these poor fellows got into our boat, captain?”“Ay, ay, doctor,” cried our skipper; and the slave-dealing crew shrank back and stared as we busily handed down the blackbirds, as the captain kept on calling them.Poor creatures, they were still half-stunned and two of them were bleeding, and it must have seemed to then? that they were being tossed out of the frying-pan into the fire, and that we were going to carry on the villainy that our ruffianly countrymen had commenced. In fact had we not taken care, and even used force, they would have jumped overboard when we had them packed closely in.“Here, shove off!” the captain said, as we were once more in our boat; and just then the leader of the ruffians staggered to his feet and leaned over the side.“I’ll have the law of you for this,” he yelled. “This is piracy.”“To be sure it is,” said our captain; “we’re going to hyste the black flag as soon as we get back, and run out our guns. Come on, my red-nosed old cocky-wax, and we’ll have a naval engagement, and sink you.”He nudged me horribly hard with his elbow at this point, and turning his back on the schooner winked at me, and chuckled and rumbled as if he were laughing heartily to himself in secret; but he spoke again directly quite seriously.“I haven’t got no boys of my own,” he said, “but if I had, I should say this was a sort o’ lesson to you to always have right on your side. It’s again’ the law, but it’s right all the same. See how we carried all before us, eh, my lads! The doctor’s fist was as good as half a dozen guns, and regularly settled the matter at once.”“Then we may set these poor fellows free now?” I said.“Well, I shouldn’t like to be one of them as did it,” said the captain drily. “Look at the shore.”I glanced in that direction and saw that it was crowded with blacks, all armed with spears and war-clubs, which they were brandishing excitedly.“They wouldn’t know friends from foes,” said the doctor quietly. “No; we must wait.”I saw the reason for these remarks; and as soon as we had reached the side of the schooner and got our captives on board I attended the doctor while he busied himself bandaging and strapping cuts, the blacks staring at him wondering, and then at Jimmy, who looked the reverse of friendly, gazing down at the prisoners scornfully, and telling Jack Penny in confidence that he did not think much of common sort black fellow.“Jimmy xiv all o’ men waddy spear if try to kedge Jimmy,” he said, drawing himself up and showing his teeth. “No kedge Jimmy. Killer um all.”It was hard work to get the poor prisoners to understand that we meant well by them.“You see they think you’re having ’em patched up,” said Jack Penny, “so as they’ll sell better. I say, Joe Carstairs, give your black fellow a topper with his waddy; he’s making faces at that chap, and pretending to cut off his legs.”“Here, you be quiet, Jimmy, or I’ll send you below,” I said sharply; and as I went to the breaker to get a pannikin of water for one of the men, Jimmy stuck his hands behind him, pointed his nose in the air, and walked forward with such a display of offended dignity that Jack Penny doubled up, putting his head between his knees and pinning it firm, while he laughed in throes, each of which sent a spasm through his loose-jointed body.The black to whom I took the water looked at me in a frightened way, and shook his head.“He thinks it is poisoned, Joe,” said the doctor quietly; and I immediately drank some, when the prisoner took the pannikin and drank with avidity, his companions then turning their eager eyes on me.“It is the feverish thirst produced by injuries,” said the doctor; and as I filled the pannikin again and again, the poor wretches uttered a low sigh of satisfaction.The schooner lay where we had left it, and all seemed to be very quiet on board, but no movement was made of an offensive nature; and the day glided by till towards sundown, when there was less excitement visible on the shore. Then the captain ordered the boat to be lowered on the side away from the land, while he proceeded to sweep the shore with his glass.“I think we might land ’em now, doctor,” he said, “and get back without any jobs for you.”“Yes, they seem pretty quiet now,” said the doctor, who had also been scanning the shore; “but there are a great many people about.”“They won’t see us,” said the captain. “Now, my blackbirds, I’m not going to clip your wings or pull out your tails. Into the boat with you. I’ll set you ashore.”For the first time the poor fellows seemed to comprehend that they were to be set at liberty, and for a few minutes their joy knew no bounds; and it was only by running off that I was able to escape from some of their demonstrations of gratitude.“No, my lad,” said the captain in response to my demand to go with him. “I’ll set the poor chaps ashore, and we shall be quite heavy enough going through the surf. You can take command while I’m gone,” he added, laughing; “and mind no one steals the anchor.”I felt annoyed at the captain’s bantering tone, but I said nothing; and just at sunset the boat pushed off quietly with its black freight, the poor fellows looking beside themselves with joy.“I say, skipper,” said the captain laughingly to me, “mind that Malay chap don’t get out; and look here, it will be dark directly, hyste a light for me to find my way back.”I nodded shortly, and stood with Jack Penny and the doctor watching the boat till it seemed to be swallowed up in the thick darkness that was gathering round, and the doctor left Jack Penny and me alone.“I say,” said Jack, who was leaning on the bulwarks, with his body at right angles; “I say, Joe Carstairs, I’ve been thinking what a game it would be if the captain never came back.”“What!” I cried.“You and I could take the ship and go where we like.”“And how about the doctor?” I said scornfully.“Ah!” he drawled, “I forgot about the doctor. That’s a pity. I wish he’d gone ashore too.”I did not answer, for it did not suit my ideas at all. The adventure I had on hand filled my mind, and I felt annoyed by my companion’s foolish remark.We had tea, and were sitting with the doctor chatting on deck, after vainly trying to pierce the darkness with our eyes or to hear some sound, when all at once the doctor spoke:“Time they were back,” he said. “I say, Skipper Carstairs, have you hoisted your light?”“Light!” I said excitedly. “What’s that?” for just then a bright red glow arose to our right in the direction of the shore.“They’re a making a bonfire,” said Jack Penny slowly.“Or burning a village,” said the doctor.“No, no,” I cried; “it’s that schooner on fire!”“You’re right, Joe,” said the doctor excitedly. “Why, the savages must have gone off and done this, and—yes, look, you can see the canoes.”“Here, I say, don’t!” cried Jack Penny then, his voice sounding curious from out of the darkness; and the same moment there was a rush, a tremendous scuffle, Jimmy yelled out something in his own tongue, and then lastly there were two or three heavy falls; and in a misty, stupefied way I knew that we had been boarded by the savages and made prisoners, on account of the outrage committed by the other captain.What followed seems quite dream-like; but I have some recollection of being bundled down into a boat, and then afterwards dragged out over the sand and hurried somewhere, with savages yelling and shouting about me, after which I was thrown down, and lay on the ground in great pain, half sleeping, half waking, and in a confused muddle of thought in which I seemed to see my father looking at me reproachfully for not coming to his help, while all the time I was so bound that I could not move a step.At last I must have dropped into a heavy sleep, for the next thing I saw was the bright sunshine streaming into the hut where I lay, and a crowd of blacks with large frizzed heads of hair chattering about me, every man being armed with spear and club, while the buzz of voices plainly told that there was a throng waiting outside.

The captain was right, for we made the south coast of New Guinea theverynext morning, and as I caught sight of the land that I believed to be holding my father as in a prison, a strange mingling of pain and pleasure filled my breast I looked excitedly and long through the doctor’s double glass, and he shook hands with me afterwards, as if he thoroughly appreciated my feelings in the matter.

It was a lovely morning, with a pleasant breeze blowing, and as we drew nearer we made out a vessel very similar in build to our own going in the same direction.

“Why, they are for the same port, I should think!”

“I don’t know,” said the skipper rather oddly. “We’re for a little place I know, where the savages are pretty friendly, and I’ve been talking it over with the doctor as to its being a good starting-place for you, and he thinks it will be. There it lies,” he said, pointing north-east. “We can soon make it now.”

“Looks a nicer place than our land,” said Jack Penny, as I stood with him gazing wonderingly at the forest and mountain scenery that hour by hour grew more clear. “I think I shall like Noo Guinea.”

The day glided on with the look-out growing more and more interesting; and at last, when we were pretty near, we could see the other schooner had outsailed us, and was within a short distance of a scattered collection of huts; while a little crowd of the natives was on the sandy beach busily launching their canoes, in which they paddled out towards the other vessel.

“I don’t like that,” said the skipper suddenly, as he was using his glass. “That’s bad for us.”

“What is?” I said eagerly.

“That there schooner going before us. They’re blackbird catchers, or I’m a Dutchman.”

“Blackbird catchers?” I said. “Why, I thought there were no blackbirds out of Europe.”

“Just hark at him,” said the captain, turning to the doctor. “Blackbirds, boy, why, there’s thousands; and it’s them varmint who go in for the trade of catching ’em as makes the coast unsafe for honest men.”

“What do you mean?” I cried, and I became aware of the fact that Jack Penny was bending over me like a bamboo.

“Mean, boy? just you take the doctor’s little double-barrelled telescope and watch and see.”

I took the glass and looked intently, watching through it the scene of the blacks paddling up to the schooner, and holding up what seemed to be fruit and birds for sale.

All at once I saw something fall into one of the canoes, which immediately sank, and eight of its occupants were left struggling in the water.

To my great relief I saw a small boat rowed round from the other side of the little vessel, evidently, as I thought, to go to the help of the poor creatures; but, to my horror, I saw that two men stood up in the boat, and, as it was rowed, they struck at the swimming men with heavy bars, and dragged them one by one into the boat.

I saw four saved like this, and then the boat was rowed rapidly in pursuit of the other four, who were swimming as hard as they could, as they tried to overtake the canoes, whose occupants were making for the shore.

The noise of the shouts reached our ears faintly, and I saw one of the men picked up by the last canoe, and the other three were literally hunted by the schooner’s boat, diving like ducks and trying every feat they could think of to avoid capture; but oars beat hands in the water, and I saw two of the fugitives struck on the head by a fellow in the bows of the boat, and then they were dragged over the side.

There was one more savage in the water, and he swam rapidly and well, besides which, he had gained some distance during the time taken up in capturing his fellows. As he had changed his direction somewhat I had a better view of the chase, and I felt horrified to see how rapidly the boat gained upon him till it was so near that it could be only a matter of minutes before he would be worn out and treated in the same way as his unfortunate fellows.

At last the boat overtook the poor wretch, but he dived down and it passed over him, the blow struck at his head merely making a splash in the water, when up he came, his black head just showing above the surface, and he struggled in another direction for his liberty.

To add to the excitement of the scene the sandy shore about the huts was lined with savages, who were rushing about in a tremendous state of excitement, shaking their spears and yelling, but showing plainly that they were a very cowardly race, for not one of them made an effort to launch a canoe and try to save his brother in distress.

There could be but one end to this cruel tragedy, so I thought; but I was wrong. Again and again the boat overtook the poor fellow, but he dived and escaped even though blows were struck at him with a boat-hook; but it was evident that he was growing weaker, and that he stayed below a shorter time.

All at once, as if the men had become furious at the length of the chase, I saw the boat rowed rapidly down upon him; but the savage dived once more, evidently went right under the boat, and came up full thirty yards astern, swimming now straight for the shore.

Then all at once I saw him throw up his arms and disappear, as if he had been snatched under.

“Out of his misery,” said a deep voice beside me; and turning I found that the captain had been watching the scene through his long glass.

“What do you mean?” I said.

“Sharks took him down, poor chap,” said the captain. “Sharks is ignorant, or they would have grabbed the white fellows instead.”

As I still watched the scene, with my brow wet with perspiration, I saw the boat make now for the schooner, and quite a dozen canoes put off from the shore.

“Lor’, what a thing ignorance is, and how far niggers are behind white men in pluck! Why, if these fellows knew what they were about, they might easily overhaul that little schooner, take their brothers out of her, and give the blackbird catchers such a lesson as they’d never remember and never forget, for they’d kill the lot. There ain’t a breath o’ wind.”

“But they will take them, won’t they, captain?” I cried.

“No, my lad, not they. They’ll go and shout and throw a few spears, and then go back again; but they’ll bear malice, my lad. All white folks who come in ships will be the same to them, and most likely some poor innocent boat’s crew will be speared, and all on account of the doings of these blackbird catchers.”

“But what do they do with the poor fellows?” I cried.

“Reg’larly sell ’em for slaves, though slavery’s done away with, my boy.”

“But will not the blacks rescue their friends?” I said.

“No, my lad.”

“Then we must,” I cried excitedly; and Jack Penny threw up his cap and cried “Hooray!” Gyp started to his feet and barked furiously, and Jimmy leaped in the air, came down in a squatting position, striking the deck a tremendous blow with his waddy, and shouting “Hi—wup, wup—wup,” in an increasing yell.

The captain, hardened by familiarity with such scenes, laid his hand upon my shoulder, and smiled at me kindly as he shook his head.

“No, no, my lad, that would not do.”

“Not do!” I cried, burning with indignation. “Are we to stand by and see such cruelties practised?”

“Yes, my lad; law says we musn’t interfere. It’s the law’s job to put it down; but it’s very slow sometimes.”

“But very sure, captain,” said the doctor quietly. “And when it does move it is crushing to evil-doers. The captain is quite right, Joe, my boy,” he continued, turning to me. “We must not stir in this case. I’ve heard of such atrocities before, but did not know that they were so common.”

“Common as blackguards,” said the captain, “It’s regular slavery. There, what did I tell you, my lad?” he continued, as he pointed to the canoes, which were returning after making a demonstration. “These poor blacks are afraid of the guns. It’s all over—unless—”

He stopped short, scratching his head, and staring first at the schooner and then at us in turn.

“Unless what, captain?” I said excitedly.

“Here, let’s do a bit o’ bounce for once in our lives,” said the bluff old fellow. “Get out your revolvers and shooting-tackle, and let’s see if we can’t frighten the beggars. Only mind, doctor, and you too, my young bantam, our weapons is only for show. No firing, mind; but if we can bully those chaps into giving up their blackbirds, why we will.”

The boat was lowered, and with a goodly display of what Jack Penny called dangerous ironmongery, we started with three men, but not until the captain had seen that the Malay was safely secured. Then we started, and the people aboard the other schooner were so busy with their captives that we got alongside, and the captain, Doctor Grant, and I had climbed on deck before a red-faced fellow with a violently inflamed nose came up to us, and, with an oath, asked what we wanted there.

“Here, you speak,” whispered the captain to Doctor Grant. “I’m riled, and I shall be only using more bad language than is good for these youngsters to hear. Give it to him pretty warm, though, all the same, doctor.”

“D’yer hear?” said the red-faced fellow again. “What do you want here?”

“Those poor wretches, you slave-dealing ruffian,” cried the doctor, who looked quite white as he drew himself up and seemed to tower over the captain of the other schooner, who took a step back in astonishment, but recovered himself directly and advanced menacingly.

“Come for them, have you, eh?” he roared; “then you’ll go without ’em. Here, over you go; off my ship, you—”

The scoundrel did not finish his speech, for as he spoke he clapped a great rough hairy paw on the doctor’s shoulder, and then our friend seemed to shrink back at the contact; but it was only to gather force, like a wave, for, somehow, just then his fist seemed to dart out, and the ruffianly captain staggered back and then fell heavily on the deck.

Half a dozen men sprang forward at this, but Doctor Grant did not flinch, he merely took out his revolver and examined its lock, saying:

“Will you have these poor fellows got into our boat, captain?”

“Ay, ay, doctor,” cried our skipper; and the slave-dealing crew shrank back and stared as we busily handed down the blackbirds, as the captain kept on calling them.

Poor creatures, they were still half-stunned and two of them were bleeding, and it must have seemed to then? that they were being tossed out of the frying-pan into the fire, and that we were going to carry on the villainy that our ruffianly countrymen had commenced. In fact had we not taken care, and even used force, they would have jumped overboard when we had them packed closely in.

“Here, shove off!” the captain said, as we were once more in our boat; and just then the leader of the ruffians staggered to his feet and leaned over the side.

“I’ll have the law of you for this,” he yelled. “This is piracy.”

“To be sure it is,” said our captain; “we’re going to hyste the black flag as soon as we get back, and run out our guns. Come on, my red-nosed old cocky-wax, and we’ll have a naval engagement, and sink you.”

He nudged me horribly hard with his elbow at this point, and turning his back on the schooner winked at me, and chuckled and rumbled as if he were laughing heartily to himself in secret; but he spoke again directly quite seriously.

“I haven’t got no boys of my own,” he said, “but if I had, I should say this was a sort o’ lesson to you to always have right on your side. It’s again’ the law, but it’s right all the same. See how we carried all before us, eh, my lads! The doctor’s fist was as good as half a dozen guns, and regularly settled the matter at once.”

“Then we may set these poor fellows free now?” I said.

“Well, I shouldn’t like to be one of them as did it,” said the captain drily. “Look at the shore.”

I glanced in that direction and saw that it was crowded with blacks, all armed with spears and war-clubs, which they were brandishing excitedly.

“They wouldn’t know friends from foes,” said the doctor quietly. “No; we must wait.”

I saw the reason for these remarks; and as soon as we had reached the side of the schooner and got our captives on board I attended the doctor while he busied himself bandaging and strapping cuts, the blacks staring at him wondering, and then at Jimmy, who looked the reverse of friendly, gazing down at the prisoners scornfully, and telling Jack Penny in confidence that he did not think much of common sort black fellow.

“Jimmy xiv all o’ men waddy spear if try to kedge Jimmy,” he said, drawing himself up and showing his teeth. “No kedge Jimmy. Killer um all.”

It was hard work to get the poor prisoners to understand that we meant well by them.

“You see they think you’re having ’em patched up,” said Jack Penny, “so as they’ll sell better. I say, Joe Carstairs, give your black fellow a topper with his waddy; he’s making faces at that chap, and pretending to cut off his legs.”

“Here, you be quiet, Jimmy, or I’ll send you below,” I said sharply; and as I went to the breaker to get a pannikin of water for one of the men, Jimmy stuck his hands behind him, pointed his nose in the air, and walked forward with such a display of offended dignity that Jack Penny doubled up, putting his head between his knees and pinning it firm, while he laughed in throes, each of which sent a spasm through his loose-jointed body.

The black to whom I took the water looked at me in a frightened way, and shook his head.

“He thinks it is poisoned, Joe,” said the doctor quietly; and I immediately drank some, when the prisoner took the pannikin and drank with avidity, his companions then turning their eager eyes on me.

“It is the feverish thirst produced by injuries,” said the doctor; and as I filled the pannikin again and again, the poor wretches uttered a low sigh of satisfaction.

The schooner lay where we had left it, and all seemed to be very quiet on board, but no movement was made of an offensive nature; and the day glided by till towards sundown, when there was less excitement visible on the shore. Then the captain ordered the boat to be lowered on the side away from the land, while he proceeded to sweep the shore with his glass.

“I think we might land ’em now, doctor,” he said, “and get back without any jobs for you.”

“Yes, they seem pretty quiet now,” said the doctor, who had also been scanning the shore; “but there are a great many people about.”

“They won’t see us,” said the captain. “Now, my blackbirds, I’m not going to clip your wings or pull out your tails. Into the boat with you. I’ll set you ashore.”

For the first time the poor fellows seemed to comprehend that they were to be set at liberty, and for a few minutes their joy knew no bounds; and it was only by running off that I was able to escape from some of their demonstrations of gratitude.

“No, my lad,” said the captain in response to my demand to go with him. “I’ll set the poor chaps ashore, and we shall be quite heavy enough going through the surf. You can take command while I’m gone,” he added, laughing; “and mind no one steals the anchor.”

I felt annoyed at the captain’s bantering tone, but I said nothing; and just at sunset the boat pushed off quietly with its black freight, the poor fellows looking beside themselves with joy.

“I say, skipper,” said the captain laughingly to me, “mind that Malay chap don’t get out; and look here, it will be dark directly, hyste a light for me to find my way back.”

I nodded shortly, and stood with Jack Penny and the doctor watching the boat till it seemed to be swallowed up in the thick darkness that was gathering round, and the doctor left Jack Penny and me alone.

“I say,” said Jack, who was leaning on the bulwarks, with his body at right angles; “I say, Joe Carstairs, I’ve been thinking what a game it would be if the captain never came back.”

“What!” I cried.

“You and I could take the ship and go where we like.”

“And how about the doctor?” I said scornfully.

“Ah!” he drawled, “I forgot about the doctor. That’s a pity. I wish he’d gone ashore too.”

I did not answer, for it did not suit my ideas at all. The adventure I had on hand filled my mind, and I felt annoyed by my companion’s foolish remark.

We had tea, and were sitting with the doctor chatting on deck, after vainly trying to pierce the darkness with our eyes or to hear some sound, when all at once the doctor spoke:

“Time they were back,” he said. “I say, Skipper Carstairs, have you hoisted your light?”

“Light!” I said excitedly. “What’s that?” for just then a bright red glow arose to our right in the direction of the shore.

“They’re a making a bonfire,” said Jack Penny slowly.

“Or burning a village,” said the doctor.

“No, no,” I cried; “it’s that schooner on fire!”

“You’re right, Joe,” said the doctor excitedly. “Why, the savages must have gone off and done this, and—yes, look, you can see the canoes.”

“Here, I say, don’t!” cried Jack Penny then, his voice sounding curious from out of the darkness; and the same moment there was a rush, a tremendous scuffle, Jimmy yelled out something in his own tongue, and then lastly there were two or three heavy falls; and in a misty, stupefied way I knew that we had been boarded by the savages and made prisoners, on account of the outrage committed by the other captain.

What followed seems quite dream-like; but I have some recollection of being bundled down into a boat, and then afterwards dragged out over the sand and hurried somewhere, with savages yelling and shouting about me, after which I was thrown down, and lay on the ground in great pain, half sleeping, half waking, and in a confused muddle of thought in which I seemed to see my father looking at me reproachfully for not coming to his help, while all the time I was so bound that I could not move a step.

At last I must have dropped into a heavy sleep, for the next thing I saw was the bright sunshine streaming into the hut where I lay, and a crowd of blacks with large frizzed heads of hair chattering about me, every man being armed with spear and club, while the buzz of voices plainly told that there was a throng waiting outside.

Back to IndexNext