joined him.

[Illustration: "WE WENT AT THE TREACHEROUS MALAYS WITH A WILL AND DROVE
THEM BACK."]

"Every man who had been among the natives had been cut down at the first
alarm. Out of the twenty-eight hands on board when the fight began only
sixteen remained. Many of these had desperate wounds from the Malay
creases, and two of them died a day or two afterwards. Conklin had been
very badly cut about. None of the wounds ought to have been dangerous, but
he had heated his blood by drink, and that in a hot climate is fatal, so
we buried him ten days after the fight. Thus, you see, we lost two
officers and thirteen men, and all for want of taking precautions. Of
course we sailed at once for Calcutta, and luckily had fine weather on the
way; we should have fared badly with but half a crew had we fallen in with
a hurricane. Pearson was a good navigator, and, after taking six more
hands on board at Calcutta, he brought her home safely. The owners made us
both handsome presents, and the next voyage he sailed as first mate and I
as second. So it turned out a lucky stroke for both of us. Three years
later he went as captain, and a year afterwards I sailed as his first
mate."

"When was it you had your other adventure, captain?"

"That was in the year before. I did not sail with Pearson that year, for
he was promoted suddenly to a ship ready to sail. It was a piece of luck
for him. One of the owners went down to the docks late one afternoon and
found the captain blind drunk. So he was sent straight on shore, and
Pearson got his billet. I was very sorry that I could not go with him, as
after that business we became great friends, and in his report of the
affair he gave me more credit than I deserved for my idea of getting those
hatchets up, which, he said, alone enabled us to make a successful
defence. I had the more cause to regret his transfer, since the captain
was an obstinate man, as we found out during the voyage, and just as much
inclined to treat the natives with contempt as my former skipper had been.
However, the man appointed to take Pearson's place as first mate was a
sharp fellow, and lucky he was so. We were lying one night in a harbour
where the natives had appeared particularly friendly the day before.
Purvis, the mate, suggested to the captain that it would be as well to
have the watches kept as if at sea, but the old man pooh-poohed the idea.

"'I don't like it,' the mate said to me; 'those fellows were too