as the
beachcomber seemed to be, he went about the work with alacrity, finding
Bostock with his jacket off and sleeves rolled up, fast filling a basket
with ship's biscuit.

"I s'pose I shall have to boil up a lot of the men's pork, Master
Carey," he said. "The black beggars must be satisfied with biscuit this
morning."

"I'll take it to them, Bob," said Carey. "I say, though, can you find a
jar of molasses?"

"Ay, there's plenty, my lad. Going to give 'em that?"

"Yes, look sharp."

In another minute or so, the jar was brought out of the store, and Carey
provided himself with a big iron cooking spoon, and thus armed and with
basket and jar, he made his way towards the deck, to be met directly by
the blacks, ready to chatter, grin, and dance about him, as he brusquely
walked right through them till well forward, where he seated himself on
a ship's fender and set the basket and jar before him.

Black Jack did not seem to display the slightest animosity as he pressed
forward, grinning and showing a set of the whitest teeth.

"Whar bull cow meat?" he cried. "Baal beef."

"None cooked yet," said Carey, shortly.

"What dat?" he cried, and his hand darted at the treacle jar.

_Crack_!

Carey was as quick, bringing the iron spoon down heavily on the black's
hand, making him utter a sharp cry as he snatched it away, sending his
companions into an ecstasy of delight, and making them dance about and
twist and writhe.

Black Jack clapped the back of his hand to his mouth, and then, as if
the injury were not of the slightest consequence, he pointed now at the
jar, in which the boy was inserting the big spoon.

"Dat not good," he shouted. "Dat mumkull, kill a fellar. Chuck um--
chuck um away."

"Ah, you thick-headed, tar-faced idiot!" cried Carey. "Not good,
indeed! I suppose you want raspberry jam." And he brought out the
spoon covered with the stringy treacle, turned it a few times and placed
a great dab on one of the biscuits.

"Baal good!" cried Black Jack, angrily. "Mumkull. Black fellow. Chuck
um 'way."

He made a snatch at the biscuit, but down came the spoon on his black
hand.

"Yah!" he yelled, and clapped the treacly place to his mouth, tasted the
molasses, and the fierce look died out, his countenance expanding into a
grin as he sucked, and then in good animal fashion began to lick,
holding out his other hand for the biscuit.

The next minute he was munching away in a high state of del