on't you see that
yellow devil's murdering him? He looks more than half dead already!"

Tim Rooney hereupon stepped forwards; but Ching Wang did not need any
force to compel him to quit his powerless foe.

Disengaging his pigtail from Pedro's limp fingers, he arose with a sort
of native dignity from his prostrate position over the Portuguese, his
round face all one bland smile--although it bore sundry scratches on its
otherwise smooth surface, whose oiliness had probably saved it from
greater hurt.

"Him no sabbey," he exclaimed, pointing down to the still prostrate
Pedro, who, now that the Chinaman's grip had been released from his
throat, began to show signs of returning life, "what me can do. Him
more wanchee, Ching Wang plenty givee chop chop!"

"I tell ye what, me joker," cried "Old Jock" after him as the victorious
cook retired into his galley on making this short speech, with all the
honours of war--the hands raising a cheer, which the presence of the
captain could not drown, at the result of the encounter; for all of them
looked on the steward as one opposed to their interests, and who cheated
them in their provisions when serving them out, regarding the Chinaman,
on the other hand, as their friend and ally, he always taking their part
in this respect. "I tell ye what, me joker, I'll stop your wages and
make ye pay for my fowls when we get to Shanghai! I don't mind your
basting the steward, for a thrashing will do him good, as he has wanted
one for some time; but I do mind your knocking those fine birds of mine
about with your confounded `one piecee cock-fightee.' Look at this one,
now; he's fit for nothing but the pot, and the sooner you cook him the
better."

Ching Wang only smiled more blandly than ever as the captain, who had
picked up the two cocks, flung the silver and gold one into the galley,
taking the other aft and restoring it to its coop; while Pedro, rising
presently to his feet, amidst the grins of the men around, sneaked after
"Old Jock," saying never a word but looking by no means amiable. His
departure ended the incident of the morning, and we immediately finished
sluicing the decks, the cook and steward fight having somewhat delayed
this operation, as it was getting on for "eight bells" and nearly
breakfast-time.

Towards noon, on the same day, we passed by the island of Tristan da
Cunha, the land bearing on our port quarter sou'-west by south when
seen; and, on the thirteenth day