chip
dis is, eh?"

"Her Britannic Majesty's brig _Barracouta_," answered Young. "You are
the Portuguese consul here, I suppose?"

"No--no; I not de consul," was the answer. "Dere is no consul at
Banana. I am Senor Joaquin Miguel Lobo, Portuguese trader, at your
savice, sar; and I have come off to say dat I shall be happie to supply
your chip wid anyting dat you may require--vattare, fresh meat,
vegetabl', feesh, no fruit--de fruit not ripe yet; plenty fruit by an'
by, but not ripe yet--parrots, monkeys--all kind of bird and animal,
yes; and curiositie--plenty curiositie, sar."

Here the skipper, who had been below for a few minutes, re-appeared on
deck, and, seeing the stranger, advanced toward him, whereupon the first
lieutenant introduced Senor Joaquin Miguel Lobo in proper form.

"Glad to see you, senor," remarked the skipper genially. "Will you step
below and take a glass of wine with Lieutenant Young and myself?"

"Ver' happie, captain, I am sure," answered the senor with another
sweeping bow and flourish of his Panama; and forthwith the trio
disappeared down the hatchway, to my unbounded astonishment, for it was
not quite like our extremely dignified skipper to be so wonderfully
cordial as this to a mere trader.

"Ah, I'm afraid that won't wash," remarked Bates, catching the look of
astonishment and perplexity on my face as I turned my regards away from
the hatchway. "The captain means to pump the Portuguese, if he can, but
from the cut of the senor's jib I fancy there is not much to be got out
of him; he looks to be far too wide-awake to let us become as wise as
himself. I'll be bound that he could put us up to many a good wrinkle
if he would; but, bless you, youngster, he's not going to spoil his own
trade. He professes to be an honest trader, of course--deals in
palm-oil and ivory and what not, of course, and I've no doubt he does;
but I wouldn't mind betting a farthing cake that he ships a precious
sight more _black_ ivory than white out of this same river. Look at
that brig, for instance--the one flying Spanish colours, I mean. Just
look at her! Did you ever set your eyes upon a more beautiful hull than
that? Look at the sweep of her run; see how it comes curving round to
her stern-post in a delivery so clean that it won't leave a single eddy
behind it. No drag _there_, my boy! And look at her sides: round as an
apple--not an inch of straight in them! And do you suppose that a brig
with l