ious production, and divide it into portions like an orange. In each
of these quarters, or fifths, were two or three great seeds, as large as
chestnuts, and these were set in a quantity of thick buttery cream or
custard.

"Well, all I can say is that it's precious rum-looking stuff," said Bob.
"Which do you eat, the kernels, or this custardy stuff?"

"No eat seeds, sahib; eat other part," said the Kling.

"Come along, soldier," said Bob; "I'll eat one bit, if you will?"

Tom Long looked too much disgusted to speak, but in a half-offended
manner he picked up another quarter of the durian, and examined it
attentively.

"Phew!" ejaculated Bob, looking round. "What a horrible smell. There
must be something floating down the river."

They both glanced at the flowing silvery waters of the river, but
nothing was in sight.

"It's getting worse," said Tom Long. "Why, it's perfectly dreadful!"

"It's this precious fruit," exclaimed Bob suddenly; and raising his
portion to his nose, "Murder!" he cried; "how horrid!" and he pitched
his piece overboard.

"Why, it's a bad one," said Tom Long, sharply: and he followed the
middy's suit.

The Kling raised his hands in dismay; but leaning over the side, he
secured the two pieces of durian before they were out of reach, and
turned to his customers.

"Good durian--buteful durian," he exclaimed. "Alway smell so fashion."

"What!" cried Bob, "do you mean to tell me that stuff's fit to eat?"

The Kling took up the fruit; and smelt it with his eyes half-closed, and
then drawing in a long breath, he sighed gently, as if with regret that
he might not indulge in such delicacies.

"Bess durian," he said, in an exaggerated ecstatic manner. "Quite bess
ripe."

Bob stooped down and retook a portion of the strange fruit, smelt it
cautiously, and then, taking out a knife, prepared to taste it.

"You are never going to eat any of that disgusting thing, are you,
sailor?" cried Tom Long.

"I'm going to try it, soldier," said Bob coolly. "Come and have a
taste, lad."

In the most matter-of-fact way, though quite out of bravado on account
of Tom Long's disgusted looks, Bob took a long sniff at the durian.

"Well, it is a little high," he said, quietly. "Not unlike bad
brick-kiln burning, with a dash of turpentine."

"Carrion, you mean," said Tom Long.

"No, not carrion," said Bob, picking out a good-sized fragment of the
fruit upon his knife; "it's what the captain calls _