nced as they. Of course
they had no intention to start immediately. Their strength was not
sufficiently restored, and they were only discussing the question of a
journey to be undertaken before long, and the probabilities of their
being able to accomplish it.

Although they were now safe on land, and need no longer dread the
"dangers of the deep," they did not yet believe themselves delivered
from all peril. The part of the coast on which they had landed appeared
uninhabited; but it was not this that made them uneasy. On the
contrary, human beings were the very things they did not desire just
then to see. From the place where his ship had been struck by the
typhoon, and the distance and direction in which they had since drifted,
Captain Redwood conjectured--was indeed almost sure of it--that they
were on some part of the north-eastern coast of Borneo, where it fronts
the Celebes Sea; and he had traded long enough among the islands of the
Malayan Archipelago to know that this was a most dangerous locality, not
from beasts of prey, but fierce, predatory men; from pirates, in short.

These sea-robbers, issuing from their hiding-places and strongholds
among the lagoons of many of the Malayan islands--more especially
Mindanao--are to be met with all through the Indian Archipelago; but
their most favourite cruising-grounds are in the seas lying around the
Sooloo isles, and stretching between Borneo and New Guinea.

They are usually known as "Lanoons," from Illanon, the southern
peninsula of Mindanao, their principal place of refuge and residence.
But they have also other haunts and ports where they make rendezvous--
many on the shores of the Celebes Sea, in the island of Celebes itself,
and also along the eastern and northern coast of Borneo. In this last
they are usually known as "Dyak pirates," a name not very correct; since
most of these freebooters are of pure Malayan race, while the Bornean
Dyaks take but little part in their plundering, and are themselves often
its victims.

The craft in which they carry on their nefarious calling are large
junk-like vessels termed "praus," with short, stumpy masts and huge
square sails of woven matting stuff. But they place more dependence
upon their broad paddle-bladed oars and skilled oarsmen, each prau
having from thirty to forty rowers, and some very large ones a much
greater number. These, seated in double rows along each side of the
vessel, take no part in the fightin