sat hunkered on his heels in the way of the native, with arms
hugging his knees. He stayed in his place at the stern, motionless under
that shattering sun, gazing out into vacancy. Whenever they raised their
eyes they saw him. He was the only thing to see.

"Here is one who appears to enjoy himself quite well," remarked Dubosc.

"I was thinking so myself," said Fenayrou.

"The animal!" rumbled Perroquet.

They observed him, and for the first time with direct interest, with
thought of him as a fellow being--with the beginning of envy.

"He does not seem to suffer."

"What is going on in his brain? What does he dream of there? One would
say he despises us."

"The beast!"

"Perhaps he is waiting for us to die," suggested Fenayrou with a harsh
chuckle. "Perhaps he is waiting for the reward. He would not starve on
the way home, at least. And he could deliver us--piecemeal."

They studied him.

"How does he do it, doctor? Has he no feeling?"

"I have been wondering," said Dubosc. "It may be that his fibers are
tougher--his nerves."

"Yet we have had water and he none."

"But look at his skin, fresh and moist."

"And his belly, fat as a football!"

The Parrot hauled himself aboard.

"Don't tell me this black beast knows thirst!" he cried with a strange
excitement. "Is there any way he could steal our supplies?"

"Certainly not."

"Then, name of a dog, what if he has supplies of his own hidden about?"

The same monstrous notion struck them all, and the others swarmed to
help. They knocked the black aside. They searched the platform where he
had sat, burrowing among the rushes, seeking some secret cache, another
bottle or a gourd. They found nothing.

"We were mistaken," said Dubosc.

But Perroquet had a different expression for disappointment. He turned
on the Canaque and caught him by the kinky mop of the hair and proceeded
to give him what is known as gruel in the cobalt mines. This was a
little specialty of The Parrot's. He paused only when he himself was
breathless and exhausted and threw the limp, unresisting body from him.

"There, lump of dirt! That will teach you. Maybe you're not so chipper
now, my boy--hein? Not quite so satisfied with your luck. Pig! That will
make you feel."...

It was a ludicrous, a wanton, a witless thing. But the others said
nothing. The learned Dubosc made no protest. Fenayrou had none of his
usual jests at the garroter's stupidity. They looked on as at the
satisfa