King o' the Beach: A Tropic Tale

  CHAPTER TWENTY.

  The party which had been out with the canoe reached the vessel with agoodly supply of beautiful fish just at the same time as the whale-boatwith the treasured-up pearls, over which Mallam had sat chuckling allthe way back, pointing out to Carey the beauties of the large ones, andglancing furtively the while at the doctor in his delight over thatgentleman's discomfiture.

  Carey was bitterly annoyed, but he took it all pretty coolly.

  "All right, old gentleman," he said to himself. "You've only set yourslaves to work and washed and cleaned them for us; we'll have them allback again when you've cleaned the rest."

  But Carey had not been without his anxious feelings, though, all thetime, regarding Bostock; and his first glance as he ascended the side ofthe stranded steamer was directed to the spot where he had last seen theold sailor with the row of black fellows watching him.

  But a chill ran through the boy, for there was no sign of Bostock, andthe ten blacks, his guards, were all forward in a cluster.

  Carey sighed with relief the next minute, for, hearing them on deck, hethrust his head out of the cook's galley, and the boy grasped the factthat Bostock was busy preparing dinner, and the blacks were attractedthere by the smell.

  Directly after the old sailor had an addition to his work in the shapeof fish to fry, and Carey seized the opportunity the examination of thefish afforded to whisper to the old sailor.

  "Well," he said, "you're all right."

  "Yes, I'm all right, my lad, but I were a bit mouldy when I saw you go,and went and got ready for action."

  "Yes? What did you do?"

  "Went and shoved the poker in the oven stove, sir; for I says to myselfthey tames lions and tigers in wild beast shows with red-hot irons, andif these here wild, black fellows tries on any of their games with me,I'll try if I can't tame them."

  "Capital!" said Carey, eagerly.

  "I calls that an out-and-out good idee, Master Carey, and look here,sir, when it comes for a strike for liberty, I'll undertake to tacklethe black uns with a couple o' hot pokers and a few kettles o' boilingwater, and if I don't clear the deck I'm a Dutchman, which can't be, forI was born in Bromley-by-Bow."

  "We'll win yet, Bob," whispered Carey, eagerly.

  "Course we will, my lad, only take it coolly, and go about as if yourcomb were reg'larly cut and your spurs took off. I say."

  "Yes?"

  "I shall expect you and the doctor to tackle Old King Cole."

  "Yes, yes, but we must have arms."

  "Course you must. You wait."

  "Yes. Were the blacks civil to you?"

  "Yes, but they sat and gloated over me as if they were picking outtit-bits, sir, till I felt all cold down the back, and as it didn't seemthe ripe time for the hot poker, for they didn't begin to show fight, Ithought I'd try a bit o' civility."

  "Yes, what did you do?"

  "Give 'em a civiliser."

  "I don't understand you, Bob. Oh, you mean you gave them some spirits."

  "Tchah! Think I'm off my head, sir? Sperrits? Why, ever so littledrives those black chaps mad as hatters. No," whispered the old sailor,with a low chuckle, "I beckoned to one of 'em, and he come down off therail where he'd been sitting in a row like a tame monkey with his mates,and he followed me, club in hand, to the stooard's place, where I got abig jar and a table fork, and brought it back on deck to where his mateswere waiting, and down they hopped as soon as they saw the jar, andbegan to dance round, singing, `'ticky! 'ticky!' in a regular chorus."

  "Ah," cried Carey, "they heard Black Jack call the molasses sticky."

  "Soon, though, as I cut the string and pulled off the bladder cover, andthey saw it was all yaller, they began to show their teeth and snarl.`'Ticky! 'Ticky!' they says again, but `all right, my lads,' I says,and I sticks the fork into an onion, winks at 'em, and pops it into mymouth. Then I does the same with a gherkin, and, my word, didn't theyall change their tune! Everyone wanted a taste, so I gives the fork tothe chap as come with me, makes him squat down, and claps the big brownjar between his legs."

  "Mixed pickles!" cried Carey, eagerly.

  "Piccadilly, sir," said the old sailor, correctively. "Then I makes allthe rest sit round him in what you calls a silly circle."

  "Silly circle!" cried Carey, laughing. "I should think it was!"

  "That's right, sir--a black silly circle. `There you are, grinningidgits,' I says; `now amuse yourselves with that, and while you're busyI'll go and cook the dinner and see if I can't get hold o' something forthe Guvnors to cook Old King Cole's goose.'"

  "And did they eat the pickles?" said Carey, eagerly.

  "Eat 'em, sir? That they did, very slow and careful too as soon as theyfound what they were like. They played fair too, each chap taking hisbit in turn like young birds in a nest, beak wide open, bit o'cauliflower or a couple o' French beans popped in, beak shut, and theneach chap shut his eyes, jumped up, and danced."

  "Just like children," said Carey.

  "They seemed to think the beans was some kind o' worms or grubs, sir,and when it come to the capsicums, the chaps as got 'em rolledthemselves on the deck with delight, and all the rest wanted 'em too.But I didn't stop long; I was off, and they took no more notice o' metill I began cooking, when they stood about to grin and smell. I got'em, though," said Bostock, mysteriously.

  "Got what?"

  "Three double guns, three revolvers, and a box o' cartridges."

  "Oh!" whispered Carey, excitedly. "Where are they?"

  "Rolled up in what's left o' the mains'l, and I folded it up and twisteda rope round it. Yonder it is, amidships."

  "Hi! You! Come along here," came in the beachcomber's harsh voice, andCarey had to hurry to him. "Come and help with these," and he pointedto the bucket of glistening pearls. "Get me something to put them in."

  Carey thought for a moment, and then went below, to return with thefirst things he thought suitable, and Mallam nodded his satisfaction.

  "They'll do," he said. "'Bout dry now. Your back's easier than mine.Pour 'em in. No smugging--"

  The pearls were carefully emptied into a couple of cigar boxes, andplaced under lock and key in a small closet in the captain's cabin, ofwhich Mallam now took possession, while that evening his followers, whoquite scorned the forecastle below deck, camped above it, close up tothe bulwarks, starboard or port, according to which way the wind blew,these seeming to remind them of their humpies or wind-screens, whichsome of the most savage used instead of huts.