"Don't give him the coffee too hot, Nat," said my uncle. "There, that's
done, I think."

"I could drink it myself, uncle," I replied, and we placed the food
before our guest, pointing to it, but he kept on shaking his head, and
put his hands behind him.

"Perhaps he thinks it is not good, uncle," I said, after we had several
times partaken of our own to set him an example.

"Or that it is poisoned," said my uncle. "Taste it to show him it is
good, Nat."

I took up the tin mug of coffee and tasted it twice, then broke a piece
off the biscuit, put a little of the herring upon it, and ate it, the
savage watching me closely the while.

Then his face broke into a broad smile once more, and he made believe to
have suddenly comprehended that the food was meant for him, for, taking
a good draught of the coffee, he leaped up, tossing his arms on high,
and danced round us, shouting with delight for quite a minute before he
reseated himself, and ate his breakfast, a good hearty one too,
chattering all the while, and not troubling himself in the least that we
could not understand a word.

"I'm sorry about one thing, Nat," my uncle said. "He would not eat that
food because he was afraid that it was poisoned."

"Well, wasn't that right of him, uncle?" I said, "as we are quite
strangers."

"Yes, my boy; but it teaches us that he knows what poison is, and that
these savages may make use of it at times."

Our black guest looked at us intently whenever we spoke, and seemed to
be trying to comprehend what we said, but began to laugh again as soon
as he saw that we observed him, ending by jumping up and shaking hands
again, and pointing to the rifle, seizing his spear, holding it up to
his shoulder, and then making a very good imitation of the report with
his mouth.

He then pointed to a bird flying at a distance, and laughed and nodded
his head several times.

"That relieves us of a little difficulty, Nat," said my uncle. "The
Malay captain seems to have told him why we have come; but there is
another difficulty still, and that is about leaving our stores."

"It seems to me, uncle, that what we ought to do first is to learn the
language."

"Yes, Nat, and we must. It would be more useful to us now than your
Latin and French."

"Yes, uncle, and we shall have to learn it without books. Hallo! what's
he going to do?"

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

OUR VERY BLACK FRIEND.

The reason for my exclamation was that our vi