ing off a big black boat. The
spray shot high in the air as the bow dived through the surf, and soon
we could hear the hiss and gasp of the rowers as they drew near. They
were naked negroes, shining with oil and sweat. Standing up in the boat,
with face to bow, they plunged their paddles perpendicularly into the
water with a hiss, and drew them out with a gasp. A swirling circle of
foam marked where each stroke had fallen, and the boat surged nearer
through the swell, till, with a swish of backing paddles, it stopped
alongside the ship's ladder, like a horse reined up. Out of the stern
there stepped a little figure, just recognisable as a white man. His
helmet was soaked and battered out of shape. The tattered relics of his
white-duck suit were plastered with yellow palm-oil and various kinds of
grease. So was the singlet, which was his only other clothing. So were
his face and hands. But he was a white man, and he came up the ship's
side with the confident air of Europe.

The purser greeted him on deck, and they disappeared into the purser's
cabin to make out the bill of lading. The hatch was opened, and the
steam crane began hauling barrels and sacks out of the boat, and then
depositing other great barrels in their place, according to the simplest
form of barter. The barrels we took smelt of palm-oil; the barrels we
gave smelt of rum. When the boat could hold no more, the little man
reappeared with the purser, and was introduced to me as Mr. Jacks.

He took off his battered helmet, inclined his body from the middle of
his back, and said, "Enchanted, sair!"

Then he gave me his oily hand, which wanted rubbing down with a bit of
deck swabbing.

"You fit for go shore one time?" he asked in the pidjin English of the
Coast, still keeping his helmet politely raised.

"Oui, certainement, toute suite," I replied in the pidjin French of
England.

If I had been the King conferring on him the title of Duke with a
corresponding income, his face could not have expressed greater surprise
and ecstasy.

He replied with a torrent of French, of which I understood nearly all,
except the point.

Taking my arm (the coat-sleeve never recovered from the oily stain), he
led me to the ship's side and steadied the rope ladder while I went
down, the purser following behind, or rather on my head. We sat on the
barrels, M. Jacques took a paddle to steer, and hissing and gasping, the
queer-smelling crew started for the beach. When we cam