s persistency. "A day or
two days' delay won't matter to me, and I think I'll put the boat up on
the beach and get a look at her underneath--I think some of her seams
want caulking. That will take one day at least, and then we might just
as well be lying high and dry on the beach instead of being half-drowned
outside, running before this northerly."
The little devil was disappointed--that could be seen by his face--and I
was also pretty sure did not believe my talk about the rope I wanted and
the caulking to be done. But I was now burning with anxiety to get rid
of him and his boatload of naked bullies. Once they were well away from
us, I would get up anchor and make sail for the south passage and get to
sea again.
"Well, just as you please," he said sullenly, as he helped himself to
another brandy. "I suppose I must get back." Then he asked me if I had
any rifles to sell.
"No. We only have enough for ourselves. Oh, where's the water? Niabon,
some water please."
He started and looked hard at the girl. "Is that there gal the witch
woman?" he asked quickly, staring at her steadily. "'Niabon' you called
her, didn't you? Where is she goin'?"
"With Mrs. Krause," I said shortly.
"Great Caesar's sea boots! Apinoka and his people know all about her.
He'll be mighty glad to see her. She's denied good-lookin' too. Why, I
thought----"
He jumped to his feet and told his boat's crew that "Niabon" was on
board, and in an instant every one of them was staring at her and
calling out her name, and one of them, bolder than the rest, made a
gesture to her to get into the boat. I pretended not to notice it, and
Niabon herself told them that we were all very tired and wanted
sleep, but that in the morning she would talk with them all at the
village--when we came to see the king. They seemed satisfied, but a deal
of whispering went on--and I felt certain that had Tully given them the
word, they would have there and then rushed us and captured the boat.
"Wal, I must be goin'," said Tully at last; "when do you think you'll be
down? The king will be mighty vexed at not seein' you to-day."
"It's only eight miles across," I said carelessly, "so I daresay we'll
be there about seven in the morning, before breakfast. But," I added, to
allay his suspicions, "the weather may take up a bit this afternoon; if
it does, I'll come along rightaway, after we have had a sleep."
He said that the chances were that it would take up, as the
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