Blown to Bits by Robert Michael Ballantyne (ebook reader that looks like a book .TXT) 📕

erect, one foot on the gunwale and hands clasped ready to dive, when a glance revealed the fact that Kathy was smiling broadly!

"Don't jump!" she said. "He is only after a fish."

Even while she spoke Nigel saw the brown little fellow shooting about like a galvanised tadpole, with a small harpoon in his hand!

Next moment he appeared on the surface shouting and spluttering, with a splendid fish on the end of his harpoon! Both were hauled into the boat, and very soon after they drew near to land.

In the shallow water Nigel observed some remarkable creatures which resembled hedgehogs, having jaws armed with formidable teeth to enable them to feed, Kathy said, on coral insects. File-fishes also drew his attention particularly. These were magnificently striped and coloured, and apparently very fearless.

"What convenient tails they have to lay hold of," remarked our hero, as they slowly glided past one; "I believe I could catch it with my hand!"

Stooping swiftly as he spoke, he dipped his arm into the water, and actually did grasp the fish by its tail, but dropped it again instantly--to the shrieking delight of the urchin and Kathy,--for the tail was armed with a series of sharp spines which ran into his hand like lancets.

This was an appropriate conclusion to a day that would have been otherwise too enjoyable. Poor Nigel's felicity was further diluted when he met his father.

"We'll have to sleep a-board to-night," said the captain, "for there's a fair breeze outside which seems likely to hold, and the mast has been temporarily rigged up, so we'll have to up anchor, and away by break of day to-morrow."

Nigel's heart sank.

"To-morrow! father?"

"Ay, to-morrow. Business first, pleasure afterwards."

"Well, I suppose you are right, but it seems almost a shame to leave such a heaven upon earth as this in such a hurry. Besides, is it not unkind to such hospitable people to bolt off after you've got all that you want out of them?"

"Can't help that, lad--


"Dooty first, an' fun to follow,
That's what beats creation hollow."


"Come father, don't say that you quote _that_ from mother!"

"No more I do, my boy. It's my own--homemade. I put it together last night when I couldn't sleep for your snorin'."

"Don't tell fibs, father. You know I never snore. But--really--are we to start at daylight?"

"We are, if the wind holds. But you may stay as late as you choose on shore to-night."

Nigel availed himself of the opportunity to see as much of the place and people as was possible in the limited time. Next morning the good though damaged brig was running in the direction of Sunda Straits before a stiff and steady breeze.


FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: We recommend those who desire more curious information on the fauna and flora of the Keeling Islands to apply to Henry O. Forbes' most interesting book, _A Naturalist's Wanderings in the Eastern Archipelago_.--(Sampson Low.)]



CHAPTER V.


CAPTAIN ROY SURPRISES AND GRATIFIES HIS SON, WHO SURPRISES A NEGRO, AND SUDDENLY FORMS AN ASTONISHING RESOLVE.

Arrived in Batavia--the low-lying seaport and capital of the Dutch island of Java--Captain Roy had his brig examined, and found that the damage she had sustained was so serious that several months would probably elapse before she would be again ready for sea.

"Now, Nigel, my lad," said the old gentleman, on the morning after the examination had been made, "come down below with me; I want to have a confabulation with 'ee."

"Why, father," said the youth, when seated at the small cabin table opposite his rugged parent, "you seem to be in an unusually solemn frame of mind this morning. Has anything happened?"

"Nothin', boy--nothin'. Leastwise nothin' in particular. You know all about the brig, an' what a deal o' repair she's got to undergo?"

"Of course I do. You know I was present when you talked the matter over with that fellow--what's-'is-name--that gave you his report."

"Just so. Well now, Nigel, you don't suppose, do you, that I'm goin' to keep you here for some months knockin' about with nothin' to do--eatin' your grub in idleness?"

"Certainly not," said the youth, regarding the stern countenance of his parent with an amused look. "I have no intention of acting such an ignoble part, and I'm surprised at you askin' the question, for you know I am not lazy--at least not more so than average active men--and there must be plenty of work for me to do in looking after the cargo, superintending repairs, taking care of the ship and men. I wonder at you, father. You must either have had a shock of dotage, or fallen into a poetical vein. What is a first mate fit for if--"

"Nigel," said Captain Roy, interrupting, "I'm the owner an' commander of the _Sunshine_, besides bein' the paternal parent of an impertinent son, and I claim to have the right to do as I please--therefore, hold your tongue and listen to me."

"All right, father," replied the young man, with a benignant grin; "proceed, but don't be hard upon me; spare my feelings."

"Well now, this is how the land lies," said the old seaman, resting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands before him. "As Mr. Moor and I, with the stooard and men, are quite sufficient to manage the affairs o' the brig, and as we shall certainly be here for a considerable time to come, I've made up my mind to give you a holiday. You're young, you see, an' foolish, and your mind needs improvin'. In short, you want a good deal o' the poetry knocked out o' you, for it's not like your mother's poetry by any means, so you needn't flatter yourself--not built on the same lines by a long way. Well--where was I?"

"Only got the length of the holiday yet, father."

"Only, indeed. You ungrateful dog! It's a considerable length to get, that, isn't it? Well, I also intend to give you some money, to enable you to move about in this curious archipelago--not much, but enough to keep you from starvation if used with economy, so I recommend you to go into the town, make general inquiries about everything and everywhere, an' settle in your mind what you'll do, for I give you a rovin' commission an' don't want to be bothered with you for some time to come."

"Are you in earnest, father?" asked Nigel, who had become more interested while the captain unfolded his plan.

"Never more in earnest in my life--except, p'raps, when I inquired over twenty years ago whether you was a boy or a gurl."

"Well, now, that _is_ good of you, father. Of course I need not say that I am charmed at the prospect you open up to me. And--and when may I start?"

"At once. Up anchor and away to-night if you choose."

"But--where?"

"Anywhere--everywhere, Java, Sumatra, Borneo--all Malaysia before you where to choose. Now be off, and think over it, for I've got too much to do to waste time on you at present," said the captain, rising, "and, stay--Nigel."

"Well?" said the youth, looking back as he was about to leave the cabin.

"Whatever you do, don't grow poetical about it. You know it is said somewhere, that mischief is found for idle hands to do."

"All right, father. I'll keep clear of poetry--leave all that sort o' nonsense to _you_. I'll--


"I'll flee Temptation's siren voice,
Throw poesy to the crows,
And let my soul's ethereal fire
Gush out in sober prose."


It need scarcely be said that our hero was not slow to take advantage of the opportunity thus thrown in his way. He went off immediately through the town, armed with the introduction of his father's well-known name, and made inquiries of all sorts of people as to the nature, the conditions, the facilities, and the prospects of travel in the Malay Archipelago. In this quest he found himself sorely perplexed for the very good reason that "all sorts" of people, having all sorts of ideas and tastes, gave amazingly conflicting accounts of the region and its attractions.

Wearied at last with his researches, he sauntered towards afternoon in the direction of the port, and began in a listless sort of way to watch the movements of a man who was busily engaged with a boat, as if he were making preparations to put to sea.

Now, whatever philosophers may say to the contrary, we hold strongly to the opinion that likings and dislikings among men and women and children are the result of some profound occult cause which has nothing whatever to do with experience. No doubt experience may afterwards come in to modify or intensify the feelings, but it is not the originating cause. If you say it is, how are we to account for love at first sight? Beauty has nothing necessarily to do with it, for men fall in love at first sight with what the world calls plain women--happily! Character is not the cause, for love assails the human breast, ofttimes, before the loved object has uttered a word, or perpetrated a smile, or even fulminated a glance to indicate character. So, in like manner, affection may arise between man and man.

It was so on this occasion with Nigel Roy. As he stood abstractedly gazing at the boatman he fell in love with him--at least he took a powerful fancy to him, and this was all the more surprising that the man was a negro,--a woolly-headed, flat-nosed, thick-lipped nigger!

We would not for a moment have it supposed that it is unnatural to love such a man. Quite the reverse. But when such a man is a perfect stranger, has never uttered a word in one's presence, or vouchsafed so much as a glance, and is gravely, stolidly engaged in the unsavoury work of greasing some of the tackling of a boat, it does seem unaccountable that he should be unwittingly capable of stirring up in another man's bosom feelings of ardent goodwill, to put it mildly.

After watching him for some time, Nigel under an almost involuntary impulse shouted "Hullo!"

"Hullo!" replied the negro, looking up with a somewhat stern frown and a pout of his thick lips, as much as to say--"Who are _you_?"

Nigel smiled, and made that suggestive motion with his forefinger which signifies "Come here."

The frown fled and the pout became a smile as the negro approached, wiping his hands on a piece of cotton-waste.

"What you want wi' _me_, sar?" he asked.

"Well, upon my word," said Nigel, somewhat perplexed, "I can't very well say. I suppose something must have been in my mind, but--anyhow, I felt a desire to have a talk with you; that is, if you can spare the time."

The first part of this reply induced a slight recurrence of the frown and pout, but at its conclusion the black brow cleared and the mouth expanded to such a gum-and-teeth-exposing extent that Nigel fairly burst into a laugh.

"You's bery good, sar," said the man, "an' I's hab much pleasure to make your acquaintance.--Der an't no grease on 'em now."

The last remark had reference to the enormous black paw which he held out.

Nigel at once grasped it and shook it heartily.

"I's bery fond ob a talk, sar," continued the negro,