s sure as I stand here; and she was a bruising
up betel-nuts for him to chew, and another was mixing up lime, and
another spreading leaves, whilst--there, I dursn't hardly tell you this
here, because you won't believe it."

"Let it off gently, Dick," said the middy, "and we'll try and bear it."

"Well, sir, hang me if one of his wives--the oldest and ugliest of 'em--
wasn't sitting there holden a golden spittoon ready for him to use
whenever he wanted."

There was another roar of laughter, and Dick exclaimed,--

"There, you ask Sergeant Lund if every word a'most I've said ain't quite
true,"--which, with the exception of Dick's embellishment about the
handsome sailors and soldiers, proved to be the case.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

TOM LONG'S WOUND.

Doctor Bolter had been very proud of the cure he had effected in the
case of Adam Gray, whom, from that day forward, he looked upon in quite
a different light, obtaining his services as often as possible in
carrying out what he called his measures for preserving the camp in
health, and he was constantly sending Gray on missions to the major.
But the doctor and his plans were set aside one morning, when there was
an order for a general parade; and it was evident that there was
something important on the way, for a good deal of bustle was visible on
the deck of the steamer.

The news soon leaked out that the resident and officers were to make a
state visit, full of ceremony, to the sultan; and in consequence there
was a general turn out, in full review order, with the band. The
sailors landed, and were drawn up on the shore, looking smart in their
white, easy-fitting dress; and the steamer's cutters were soon after
busy, landing the greater portion of the troops with their officers, in
full uniform; while quite a crowd of Malays assembled on the beach,
staring, some in wonderment, some manifestly in dislike, at the
strangers.

The grand muster took place beneath the shade of some large trees, as
far as was possible, for the heat was intense. Every one was in his
best; and Ensign Long marched by Bob Roberts with a very bright sword
beneath his arm, and putting on a pair of white kid gloves.

The middy tried to take matters coolly; but the thoroughly consequential
air of his companion roused his ire, and he longed to do something to
upset him.

That was, however, impossible, for the arrangements were complete; and
the march inland, about a couple of miles, commenced wit