d ship," cried the black who
had first spoken.

"Take our old ship, will you?" said Bostock. "I think not, my lad.
There, put down spear, mulla-mulla. We'll give you sugar, 'bacco."

The man laughed, and his companions too.

"Where boat?" said Bostock, speaking as if he thought the savages must
be deaf, and the spokesman pointed over the other side of the vessel.

"It's all right, sir," said Bostock. "Nothing to mind; they're a party
who've come in contact with English folk before, and they must have seen
the ship. It only means giving them a bit of 'bacco and sugar and
sending 'em away again. Don't look afraid of 'em. Better give 'em what
they want and let 'em go. They wander about, so we may never see 'em
again."

"Very well; fetch up some tobacco and sugar and give them," said the
doctor; but at the first step Bostock took half the men rushed at and
seized him, making his companions snatch at their guns, but only to have
them wrested away, the blacks cocking them and drawing the triggers so
as to fire them off if loaded, with a sharp _click, click_, as the
hammers fell.

"That's bad, sir," said Bostock, in his sourest growl. "It means
fighting, and we aren't got no tools."

"It is horrible to be taken by surprise like this," replied the doctor;
"but it only means giving them presents; they were afraid we meant to
shoot them."

"Mumkull white fellow, baal, lie still," cried the principal man,
fiercely.

"All right, you dirty thick-headed black rough 'un," growled Bostock.
"Now then, what do you want? Give it a name. Tobacco or sugar, isn't
it, or both?"

"What's that?" said Carey, quickly, for the sharp sound of a match being
struck in one of the cabins came up. "There's someone down below,
getting a light."

The attention of the blacks was taken too, and they stood as if
listening, till there was the sudden glow of a lamp seen in the cabin
entry, and directly after a fierce-looking ruddy-brown visage appeared,
the swollen-veined, blood-shot eyes looking wild, strange, and horrible
as the light the man carried struck full upon it and made the great
ragged beard glisten.

Carey stared at him in wonder, taking in at a glance his rough
half-sailor-like shirt and trousers and heavy fisherman's boots. He
noted, too, that the man wore a belt with holsters which evidently
contained small revolvers.

The question was on his lips, "Who are you?" with its following, "What
are you doing there?"