f your questions. There must
be plenty of fish in the river, for that forms their principal food."

Just then their attention was taken up by one of the Malay boatmen
drawing in his oar, and then taking out a small bag from which he
extracted a piece of broken betel-nut and a half-dried leaf. Then from
the same bag he took a small brass box carefully hammered to form a
pattern, and upon opening this a thick white paste became visible.

"What's that?" whispered Ned.

"Lime made from coral and mixed into a paste with water."

"But what is he going to do?"

"Watch him."

Ned was already watching, and saw the man take a little of the wet lime
paste from the box with his finger, and smear it over the leaf. Then
the box was put away, and the scrap of nut carefully rolled up in the
leaf and placed in the man's mouth, when he went on contentedly chewing
as he resumed his oar and pulled steadily on.

"I never saw them get their betel ready to chew before, uncle,"
whispered Ned. "I say, what leaf is that?"

"Sirih, a little climbing kind of pepper."

"Well," continued Ned with a laugh; "I don't know whether that's a bad
habit, but it looks a very nasty one. What savages!"

"They might say the same about our Jacks with their tobacco," said his
uncle.--"How would you like to live there?"

He pointed to where, in an opening in the mangroves, a tiny village of a
few houses became visible, mere huts, but pretty enough to look at with
their highly-pitched, palm-thatched roofs, showing picturesque gables
and ornamentally woven sides, the whole raised on bamboo piles, so as to
place them six or eight feet above the level of the river. A few
cocoa-nut trees grew close at hand, and a couple of good-sized boats
were drawn up and tied to posts, while a group of the occupants stood
gazing at the passing party.

"No; I don't think I should like to live there," said Ned, as the men
rowed on, and the houses with their cluster of palm-like trees gave
place once more to the monotonous green of the mangroves. And now the
boy altered his tactics. For a time he had scorned the shelter of the
thatched roof which covered the afterpart of the roomy boat, and been
all life and activity, making the Malays smile at his restlessness, as
he passed among them resting his hand first on one, then on another
brawny shoulder, to get right forward to the sharply-pointed prow, and
sit there looking up the river; while his uncle rearranged some