When they first climbed aboard, I see 'em looking
the schooner over mighty sharp, and in a minute they was all jabbering
together in native lingo.
"'What's the matter with 'em?' says Hammond.
"A chap with scraggy black whiskers and a sort of worried look on his
face, stepped for'ard and made a bow. He looked like a cross between a
Spaniard and a Malay, and I guess that's what he was.
"'Senors,' says he, palavering and scraping, 'boat! my boat!'
"'W'at's 'e giving us?' says Hammond.
"'Boat! This boat! My boat, senors,' says the feller. All to once I
understood him.
"'Hammond,' I says, 'I swan to man if I don't believe we've picked up
the real crew of this craft!'
"'Si, senor; boat, my boat! Crew! Crew!' says Whiskers, waving his hands
toward the rest of his gang.
"'Hall right, skipper,' says Hammond; 'glad to see yer back haboard.
Make yerselves well at 'ome. 'Ow d' yer lose er in the first place?'
"The feller didn't seem to understand much of this, but he looked more
worried than ever. The crew looked frightened, and jabbered.
"'Ooman, senors,' says Whiskers, in half a whisper. 'Ooman, she here?'
"'Hammond,' says I, 'what's a ooman?' The feller seemed to be thinkin'
a minute; then he began to make signs. He pulled his nose down till it
most touched his chin. Then he put his hands to his ears and made loops
of his fingers to show earrings. Then he took off his coat and wrapped
it round his knees like make-b'lieve skirts.
Pages:
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137