not know when Skipper, panting for
air, his loin cloth and undershirt soaked with sweat, arose, tucked
blanket and pillow under his arm, and went on deck.

Jerry only awakened when a huge three-inch cockroach nibbled at the
sensitive and hairless skin between his toes. He awoke kicking the
offended foot, and gazed at the cockroach that did not scuttle, but that
walked dignifiedly away. He watched it join other cockroaches that
paraded the floor. Never had he seen so many gathered together at one
time, and never had he seen such large ones. They were all of a size,
and they were everywhere. Long lines of them poured out of cracks in the
walls and descended to join their fellows on the floor.

The thing was indecent--at least, in Jerry's mind, it was not to be
tolerated. _Mister_ Haggin, Derby, and Bob had never tolerated
cockroaches, and their rules were his rules. The cockroach was the
eternal tropic enemy. He sprang at the nearest, pouncing to crush it to
the floor under his paws. But the thing did what he had never known a
cockroach to do. It arose in the air strong-flighted as a bird. And as
if at a signal, all the multitude of cockroaches took wings of flight and
filled the room with their flutterings and circlings.

He attacked the winged host, leaping into the air, snapping at the flying
vermin, trying to knock them down with his paws. Occasionally he
succeeded and destroyed one; nor did the combat cease until all the
cockroaches, as if at another signal, disappeared into the many cracks,
leaving the room to him.

Quickly, his next thought was: Where is Skipper? He knew he was not in
the room, though he stood up on his hind-legs and investigated the low
bunk, his keen little nose quivering delightedly while he made little
sniffs of delight as he smelled the recent presence of Skipper. And what
made his nose quiver and sniff, likewise made his stump of a tail bob
back and forth.

_But_ _where_ _was_ _Skipper_? It was a thought in his brain that was as
sharp and definite as a similar thought would be in a human brain. And
it similarly preceded action. The door had been left hooked open, and
Jerry trotted out into the cabin where half a hundred blacks made queer
sleep-moanings, and sighings, and snorings. They were packed closely
together, covering the floor as well as the long sweep of bunks, so that
he was compelled to crawl over their naked legs. And there was no white
god about to protect