The Penang Pirate | Page 4

lose the number o' my mess yet awhile!"
"Never you fear, Jem," returned the other; "our old man's as 'cute as they make them, out here; and if there's anything to keep a sharp look- out for, why he's all there!"
VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER TWO.
DARK SUSPICIONS.
At this moment, the conversation between the two was again interrupted by Bill the boatswain starting up from the hawser on which he was sitting alongside of Jem Backstay on the topgallant forecastle. "Hallo!" he exclaimed, "I wonder what that ugly beggar of a Malay is prowling about forward for? He's smelling about them water-casks as came aboard yesterday--he means mischief!"
"Lordsakes, Bill," said Jem, "you've so got them pirates on the brain that you can think of nuthin else!--Do leave the poor yaller devil alone, I'm sure he ain't up to no harm!"
"Ain't he?" said Bill scornfully. "You jest look arter your own bizness. Hallo, you Lascar!" he shouted out aloud to the object of his attention; "Hallo, you Lascar! leave that 'ere cask alone; d'ye hear!"
The man, a short, thick-set, black-haired, and yellow-visaged native-- who had been apparently endeavouring to unloosen the lashings of the tarpaulin cover of one of six large hogsheads like water-casks that were placed along the gangway of the ship and securely fastened between the ports--started at the sound of Bill's voice; and, seeing that his eye was fixed on him, pretended slily for a moment to be intently gazing out seawards, and then slunk stealthily along the deck more aft to the bitts of the mainmast, where a group of his tawny fellow-countrymen were gathered together away from the rest of the crew--squatting on their haunches, and gabbling away at a great rate.
"Blow them yaller imps!" said the boatswain to his companion as the native retreated out of earshot. "I don't like 'em, for they're a treach'rous lot, and would knife you as soon as look. Why, as you know, Jem, they won't obey no orders, even from the cap'en, 'cept through their own serang, or chief--ourang-outang I think'd be a better name for him, the ugly beast! And if you was to strike one with a rope's end--if only in lark, mind you, to make him move quicker--why, you'd be a dead man 'fore morning, safe as houses! I shouldn't like, mate, for you and me to be the only white men aboard with that 'ere rascal lot of Lascars on the high seas, my hearty! We're short-handed as it is, with only four men in each watch, barrin' Snowball the cook and the officers, which makes us twelve white men in all, besides little Jack Harper--for I count Snowball as one of us, although he is a niggur; and there are twenty of them Lascars altogether and their chief. Howsomedevers, Jem, I've spoke to the cap'en, beggin' his pardin for the liberty, an' he told me as how he was a lookin' out and not unmindful; so, bo, it's all right, you see."
"And you think, Bill, the skipper's goin' to bring off some more hands like us?"
"I don't think nothin' about it, Jem Backstay. When the cap'en tells me it's all right, I knows it's all right; and that's enough for me! Heave an eye out to starboard, mate; ain't that a light on shore, like a signal or something?"
"Ay, ay!" replied the other, drawing himself up to all the height of his six feet, and stretching out his brawny arms lazily as he peered over the bows through the hazy light, for the sun had just set, and the shore could only be faintly distinguished in the distance. "Aye, aye, my hearty! A light it is for certain."
"Then it's the cap'en, sure!" said Bill; "he's late to-night. I hope we'll start our anchor at last; I'm tired o' this Canton River."
"Foc's'le, ahoy!" at the same moment shouted out Mr Scuppers, the first mate, from the poop, where he was pacing to and fro with young Jack Harper, the midshipman.
"Aye, aye, sir!" shouted out in answer Bill and Jem together.
"You are awake, are you? I thought you were all asleep! Hoist up a lantern at the fore, to show the cap'en where we are, it's getting quite dark; and see if that Snowball's asleep in the galley; tell him it's six bells, and time for my coffee."
The negro cook, however, was awake for a wonder, and heard the mate's message, thus saving the trouble of its being repeated to him.
"Yah, yah! me no sleep, Massa Scuppers," he called out with that cheerful good humour that seems characteristic of the darky race, and which seems proof against any ill treatment;--"me jus' goin' brin' coffee, sah, yes sah! It am lubly hot, massa, and 'trong as carthoss!"
"Hot and strong is it, Snowball?" said the first mate in his hearty, jolly way,