Are you all ready?" he called out.

"No--I'm afraid not," she stammered confusedly.

Quick to guess the reason, he merely smiled.

"All right," he said pleasantly. "I'll fix it."

Carefully putting down the precious liquid, he seized hold of the iron
pot, and, with a few strokes of his sheath-knife, soon had it in
condition and on the fire. Over such fierce heat, the water did not take
long to boil, and a few minutes later the obstreperous crustaceans were
on the way to discharge their natural debt to two starving humans.

"What a feast we'll have!" exclaimed Grace, as she eagerly watched his
preparations. "If only we had some bread to go with them."

"Here's something just as good," he replied quickly. Stooping down
toward the plant he had just brought in he plucked some of the
fruit--long, yellow pods with red speckles--and held them out to her.

"What is it?" she asked, in surprise. "I never saw fruit like that
before."

"They are plantains--the potatoes of the tropics," he answered.

"They look like bananas," said Grace, starting to peel and eat one.

"Same family," he explained. As if surprised at her ignorance, he went
on: "It is a wonderful fruit. It's meat, potatoes, and bread all in one.
Its fiber one can use as thread, and its enormous leaves make warm
clothing. When the fruit is powdered and baked you would hardly know it
from rice. Speke, Stanley, and the other African explorers frequently
mention plantains as the staple food of the natives. We're fortunate to
find it here, and there seems to be an abundance."

Grace looked at him curiously. She was not aware that seamen were so
well versed.

"What do you know about African explorers?" she demanded.

Her question seemed to amuse him, for he showed his teeth in a smile.

"Oh, I've read their books," he replied. "We sailormen pick up a good
deal of information knocking about the world as we do."

She would have liked to question him further, curious to learn something
of his history, but there was an air of reserve about him that gave her
little encouragement. On reflection she thought it unwise to appear
interested. He might misconstrue her motive. She had not forgotten the
bad reputation he had borne on the steamer, and while there had been
nothing in his behavior so far to give her cause for alarm, she must not
forget that she was entirely alone on this island with a man of the
lower classes, a man unaccustomed, probably, to self-control. Sh