ions on which he had landed he
always carried with him a hand-bag filled full of trade goods. On the
present occasion, after the feasting had gone on for some time, he stole
out from the chief's hut. The men were sitting down in front drinking palm
wine, but keeping a vigilant eye upon the movements of the natives.
Presently one of the Malays came up to him and touched his bag, as if to
ask what were its contents. He brought out two or three small
looking-glasses, some large brass necklaces, and a few of the cheap
bangles and rings set with coloured glass, used by the Hindoo peasant
women. The native pointed to a hut near, and beckoned to Steve to follow
him.

"Jim, you may as well come with me," Stephen said to one of the sailors.
"I think this fellow wants to trade with me; but they are treacherous
beggars, and I don't care about going with him by myself."

The sailor got up and followed him across to the hut. The Malay was
evidently a chief of some importance, and Stephen thought that he might be
possessed of articles of a better class than those usually offered. In one
corner of the hut stood a seaman's chest with several small cases round
it. It needed but a glance to show that the latter were two chronometers
and three quadrants.

"The scoundrels have been plundering a ship, Jim."

"Ay, ay, your honour, there is not much doubt about that. I should like to
knock the black villain on the head."

The chief caught the tone of anger, and made a variety of signs to the
effect that there had been a great storm, and that a ship had been driven
ashore and wrecked.

"Ay, ay, that is all very well," the sailor growled; "but that won't do
for us. Those chronometers would never have floated, and them polished
cases have never been in the water."

"Never mind, Jim; it won't do to look suspicious." He pointed to the
chronometers, and asked by signs how much was wanted for them. He took out
four looking-glasses, two brass chains, and three or four bead necklaces.
The chief looked doubtful; but when Stephen added a crimson silk
handkerchief he closed with the bargain at once. He would indeed have
given them for the looking-glasses alone if Stephen had held out for them,
for he regarded the chronometers with a certain sense of dread; they were
to him mysteries, having made, when first brought ashore, a ticking noise,
and were generally considered to be in some way alive. They were,
therefore, left out in the air for some da