Happily for them, the boys saw little more of the horrors of the petty
war. Aboard the schooner what met their eyes were the triumphs of
peace. The next day flags were flying, bells ringing, guns firing, and
the whole of the inhabitants of the town were marching in procession and
shouting _Vivas_.
Crowds gathered upon the shore nearest to where the schooner was moored,
to shout themselves hoarse; and not content with this, they crowded into
boats to row out round the little English vessel and shout themselves
hoarser there, many of the boats containing women, who threw flowers
which floated round.
"I am getting rather tired of this," said Fitz, at last. "I suppose
it's very nice to them, and they feel very grateful to your father for
bringing the guns and ammunition to beat off this other President
fellow; but keeping on with all this seems so babyish and silly. Why
can't they say, `Thank Heaven!' and have done with it?"
"Because they are what they are," said Poole, half contemptuously.
"Why, they must have been spoiling their gardens to bring all these
flowers. They are no use to us. I should call that boat alongside--
that big one with the flag up and all those well-dressed women on
board."
"No, don't!" cried Fitz excitedly. "Why, they'd come and shout more
than ever, and begin singing again. What's the good of doing that?"
"I'll tell you," said Poole; "and I should tell them that it would be a
deal more sensible to go back and fetch us a boat-load of fruit and
vegetables, and fowls and eggs."
"Ah, to be sure," cried Fitz. "It would please old Andy too; but--but
look there; they are more sensible than you think for."
"Well done!" cried Poole, "Why, they couldn't have heard what I said."
"No," said Fitz, "and if they had there wouldn't have been time. You
must have telegraphed your thoughts. Why, there are two boat-loads."
"Three," said Poole.
And he was right, and a few minutes later that number of good-sized
market-boats were close alongside, their owners apparently bent upon
doing a good stroke of trade in the edibles most welcome to a ship's
crew after a long voyage.
"Well, boys," said the skipper, joining them, "who's going to do the
marketing? You, Poole, or I?"
"Oh, you had better do it, father. I should be too extravagant."
"No," said the skipper quietly. "The owners of the _Teal_ and I don't
wish to be stingy. The lads have done their work well, and I should
like them to have a bit of a feast and a holiday now. Here, boatswain,
pass the word for the cook and get half-a-dozen men to help. We must
store up all that will keep. Here, Burgess, we may as well fill a
chicken-coop or two."
"Humph!" grunted the mate surlily. "Want to turn my deck into a shop?"
"No," said the skipper good-humouredly, "but I want to have the
cabin-table with something better on it to eat than we have had lately.
I am afraid we shall be having Mr Burnett here so disgusted with the
prog that he will be wanting to go ashore, and won't come back."
"All right," growled the mate, and he walked away with the skipper, to
follow out the orders he had received.
"I say," said Fitz, "I wonder your father puts up with so much of the
mate's insolence. Any one would think that Burgess was the skipper; he
puts on such airs."
"Oh, the dad knows him by heart. It is only his way. He always seems
surly like that, but he'd do anything for father; and see what a seaman
he is. Here, I say, let's have some of those bananas. They do look
prime."
"Yes," said Fitz; "I like bananas. I should like that big golden
bunch."
"Why, there must be a quarter of a hundredweight," said Poole.
"Do you think they'll take my English money?"
"Trust them!" said Poole. "I never met anybody yet who wouldn't."
They made a sign to a swarthy-looking fellow in the stern of the nearest
boat, and Fitz pointed to the great golden bunch.
"How much?" he said.
The man grinned, seized the bunch with his boat-hook, passed it over the
bulwark, and let it fall upon the deck, hooked up another quickly,
treated that the same, and was repeating the process, when Poole shouted
at him to stop.
"Hold hard!" he cried. "I am not going to pay for all these."
But the man paid no heed, but went on tossing in fruit, calling to the
lads in Spanish to catch, and _feeding_ them, as we say, in a game, with
great golden balls in the shape of delicious-looking melons.
"Here, is the fellow mad?" cried Fitz, who, a regular boy once more,
enjoyed the fun of catching the beautiful gourds. "We shall have to
throw all these back."
"Try one now," said Poole.
"Right," cried Fitz. "Catch, stupid!" And he sent one of the biggest
melons back.