A quick run with a favourable wind across to Colombo, a very brief stay,
and then on again. There were baffling winds and a sharp storm, during
which it was found necessary to get up steam, but the yacht was as good
in foul weather as in fair, and to Jack's great satisfaction he found
that, in spite of the pitching and tossing of the vessel, he was not
ill, but found a strange pleasure in being on deck in mackintosh and
leggings, watching the yacht careen over and race through the foam.
Every now and then a wave would appear gliding along like some huge bank
of water, ready to roll over them and sweep the deck, but the
well-trained hands at the wheel sent her racing up the watery slope, to
hang poised for a few moments and then rush down again.
"Isn't it glorious, Jack, my lad?" said the doctor, wiping the spray out
of his eyes and off his beard, just in the height of the storm. "I
don't know how you find it, but it excites me."
"I like it," said Jack quietly; "it seems so grand, and as if the yacht
was laughing at the waves and tossing them off to right and left. I
wonder whether Captain Bradleigh would let me steer."
"I hope not," said the doctor, with a droll look of puzzledom in his
face. "Why, what's come to you, you reckless young scamp? No, thank
you. If you're going to be indulged in any luxuries of that kind, I'm
going to land at Penang or Singapore, and make my way home by the next
boat that touches."
Jack laughed.
"Don't believe it," he said. "But doesn't it seem as if it would be
nice to have full command of the yacht like that, and send her here and
there just as one liked?"
"Can't say that my desires run in that groove, Jack, my lad; I'm quite
content to play the part of looker-on. But this storm is grand, and
it's splendid to see how the little vessel shakes the water off her and
rushes through it all. But I did want some calmer weather; we haven't
done a bit of fishing since we left the Red Sea, and I meant to try
every day. Well, captain, how long is this going to last?"
"Another twelve hours, I should say," replied the captain, "and then we
shall have calm weather all the way to Singapore, and with the exception
of a few thunderstorms, light winds among the islands."
It turned out exactly as the captain had said. The weather calmed
rapidly, and their run down to the equator, between the Malay peninsula
and Sumatra, was in brilliant hot weather all through the morning; while
early in the afternoon, with wonderful regularity, there came on a
tremendous thunderstorm, with peals heavier and lightning more vivid
than anything Jack had ever encountered, and then at the end of a couple
of hours all was clear again, and the evening was comparatively cool and
beautifully fine.
Singapore was so fresh and attractive that of necessity a few days were
spent there, before a fresh start was made for a cruise through the
islands in the region which was now exciting Jack's expectations. Soon
after they were passing great heavy-looking junks with their Celestial
crews, or light Malay prahus with their swarthy, coffee-coloured sailors
in tartan skirts, in whose folds at the waist the formidable wavy dagger
known as a kris was worn, the handle, like the butt of a pistol in form,
carefully covered by the silk or cotton sarong to indicate peace.
"If you see one of them with the handle bare," said the mate to Jack,
"one has to look out, for it means war."
Malay prahus were so thoroughly connected in the lad's reading with
piracy, that he looked curiously at the first they encountered, and
eagerly scanned the calm, rather scornful faces of the men who
apathetically stood about the bamboo deck, and watched the passing of
the swift, white-sailed yacht, while they distorted their cheeks by
slowly chewing something within.
"What's that fellow doing?" said Jack, handing his double glass to the
mate, who gave a quick glance through and handed it back. "Look for
yourself."
Jack resumed his inspection of the prahu's deck, for it was not above
forty yards away.
"Doing something with a bit of--I don't know what, which he has taken
out of a little bag."
"Betel-nut from one of the palms which grow in these parts," said the
mate.
"Now he has slowly taken a leaf out of the same bag."
"Sirih leaf; a kind of creeping pepper plant which runs up trees," said
the mate.
"And now he is opening a little brass box, which has something that
looks like a white paint."
"Lime," said the mate, "lime of a very fine kind, made by burning
shells."
"And he is spreading some of it with one finger upon the leaf."
"Yes! See what he does next."
"Rolled the piece of nut in it and put it in his mouth."
"Yes," said the mate; "all the Malays do this betel-chewing."
"What for?"
"It is a habit like our sailors chewing tobacco. The Malays think it is
good for them, and keeps off all choleraic attacks."
"Does it?" asked Jack.
"Ah, that I can't say. You must take the doctor's opinion."
But Jack was too much interested in watching the prahu, which, in spite
of only having matting sails, sped along over the calm water at a rapid
rate, and he went on questioning his companion.
"They seem fierce-looking fellows, and as if they could do a deal of
mischief. Are they such terribly bloodthirsty people?"
"Certainly not," said the mate. "I have always found the better-class
Malays simple, gentlemanly, and courteous if they are properly treated;
but if injured, I believe they can be treacherous and relentless."
"But I remember once reading how bloodthirsty the Malay pirates are."
"I don't think the English, Spanish, or French pirates were much
better," said the mate, laughing. "Pirates are generally the scum of
the ports they sail from; reckless, murderous ruffians. But I should
say that of all pirates out in the East, the gentle, placid,
mild-looking Chinaman makes the worst; for he thinks nothing of human
life, his own or any one else's."
"But there are no pirates now, of course," said Jack quietly.
The mate turned and looked him in the eyes.
"Do you want me to tell you some murderous narrative?"
"Oh no; I don't care for such things. I know, of course, that there
used to be plenty."
"So there are now," said the mate. "They have hard work to carry on
their piracies; but every now and then we have a bad case. They mostly
come from the Chinese coast; but they are made up of ruffians of all
kinds."
Jack was silent for a few moments.
"I heard Captain Bradleigh say that the men were all trained to use the
small-arms," he said at last quietly. "Would they fight if we were
attacked?"
The mate hummed over a bit of a once popular song, beginning, "We don't
want to fight, but by Jingo if we do."
"That pretty well expresses the nature of English sailors, sir," he said
quietly. "They don't want to fight, and never would if they were left
alone. But if they do fight--well, Mr Jack, if they do they hit very
hard."
Jack laughed merrily, to the great satisfaction of two gentlemen across
the deck, who turned their heads so as not to seem as if they noticed
anything.
"I dare say," continued the mate, "you remember how it was at school;
you never wanted to fight, but when you had to I suppose you hit hard?"