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"Well, I shall try him easy-like at first, sir, and if that don't do I shall try rope's end."
"No, no, do it by kindness, Billy," said Mark.
"Well, that would be kindness, sir. Monkey's only a monkey, but even a monkey ought to be taught to have some morals. You come along o' me."
Mark leaped down, and followed the little sailor back to where Jack was lying watching them; and as soon as they reached the spot, Billy bent down, placed his hands upon his knees, and poured forth a stream of the most voluble vituperation ever invented by man. He called the monkey all the lazy, idle, good-for-nothing swabs, lubbers, and humbugs possible, while the effect was droll in the extreme.
At first the little animal chattered at him, then he shook his head, then he grew angry, and at last curled himself up, covering his head with his long arms, and howled piteously.
"That's a-touching of him up, sir," said Billy. "He knows it, you see.
Why, you miserable little black-faced, bandy-legged sneak," he continued, addressing the monkey, "what's in my mind is to--"
Woof!
Billy Widgeon made a bound, and caught a rope, by whose help he swung himself up into the rigging.
"Lay hold o' that dog, Mr Mark, sir," he cried.
For Bruff, who had been lying down when this tirade began, slowly raised his head, then placed himself in a sitting posture, and ended by staring at Billy, till Jack gave a more piteous howl than any he had before uttered, when the dog gave vent to one low growling bark, and sprang at the sailor.
"Ah!" said Billy, as soon as Bruff was quieted down, "you see he takes his part. Being a dog he don't know no better, sir. I must try another way."
Billy slowly swung himself down, displaying wonderful muscular strength of arm as he did so, and beckoning Mark aside he continued:
"I'm going to show you now, sir. Can you make your dog howl?"
"Oh, yes, Billy, easily."
"How will you do it?"
"Shut him up somewhere, or chain him, and then call him. As soon as he finds he can't get to me, he'll make noise enough."
"That's your sort," said Billy. "You bring him along, then."
Mark called the dog, who leaped up and bounded to him, and five minutes later he was chained up under the main hatch and left, while Billy led the way back to the deck, and helped Mark up to a place of vantage, where they could see the monkey without being seen, and at the same time make the dog hear.
"Now then, Mr Mark, sir. You call old Bruff."
Mark obeyed, and there was a sharp bark in reply, then a volley of barks, a rattling of the chain, and, on the call being repeated, quite a howl.
At the first bark Jack turned his head and listened, then, as the barking continued more angrily, he raised his head and looked in the direction from whence the sounds came. At the first howl he went upon his hands and knees, and uttered an uneasy kind of noise, but threw himself down again, and laid his head close to the deck, shuffling about uneasily.
Then there was peace for a few moments.
"Call him again, Mr Mark, sir," whispered Billy.
Mark obeyed, and, leaning down, uttered the dog's name in a suppressed way, which sounded as if it came from a great distance.
The result was a burst of barking, followed by a series of the most piteous howls, wild and prolonged, such as an animal might utter who was suffering from some terrible torture.
"That'll fetch him," whispered Billy; and he seemed to be right, for, as the howling continued, Jack grew restless. He sat up, listened, threw himself down, turned over, then on the other side, and ended by bursting out into a fit of chattering, and going at full speed along the deck to the hatchway, down which he disappeared at a bound, old practice teaching him that he would drop upon the steps, and his experience being right.
"Come along," said Billy chuckling. "I told you so, Mr Mark, sir; I told you so. I thought it was his games."
Billy Widgeon took up the sheepskin rug, and carried it down below in the forecastle, while, when Bruff was let loose, and the two animals returned on deck, Jack walked slowly to his sunny corner, and stood staring about him as if unable to make out what it all meant, ending by lying down on the bare deck.
But this did not seem to afford any satisfaction, and as if realising that his companion was quite well once more, Bruff charged at him, and rolled him over. Jack retaliated by getting hold of his curly coat with both hands, and making a playful bite at his neck, when the game went on, and for the next half-hour they were frisking and bounding about the deck till they were tired, and Bruff found a sunny spot for a nap, as Jack had sought refuge among the sails.
CHAPTER TWELVE.
HOW MARK FIRST TASTED JUNGLE.
A hot but uneventful voyage succeeded, during which the pa.s.sengers were well roasted in the Suez Ca.n.a.l, and saturated with the steamy moisture of Ceylon, where Mark stared with wonder at the grandees, whose costume strongly resembled that of some gorgeously-decked little girl of fifty years ago dressed up for a party.
Then there was a glimpse of Sumatra, and a stay at busy bazaar-like Singapore, with its s.h.i.+pping of all nations from great steamers down to Malay praus, with their bamboo sides and decks, and copper-coloured wide-nostrilled Malays in little flat military caps, and each wearing the national check sarong, so much after the fas.h.i.+on of a Highlander's tartan, baju jacket, and deadly-looking kris.
"Yes, these are Malays, Mark," said Mr Morgan as they stood gazing over the side at the hundreds of vessels of all sizes. "Clever sailors they are too."
"And pirates?" said Mark.
"Yes, whenever they can get the chance with some one weaker than themselves, but our cruisers have made their trade less profitable than it used to be."
"Should you think these are pirates?" said Mark, pointing towards one particularly swift-looking prau just gliding out of the harbour.
"Very likely," said the second-mate. "They are traders and fishermen, and sometimes all's fish that comes to their net. Not very formidable looking enemies, though."
"They've no guns," said Mark, looking rather contemptuously at the quaint craft.
"Not visible," said the second-mate, "but I daresay they may have two or three down below ready for mounting as soon as they get to sea."
"Very large guns?"
"No; small bra.s.s pieces which they call lelahs, and which send a ball weighing perhaps a pound."
"But pirates would not dare to attack a great s.h.i.+p like this," said Mark.
"Oh, yes, they would, for these Malays are fighting men, who always go armed, while they know that our merchantmen, as a rule, are not. But there is not much to fear. They generally attack weak or helpless vessels, and most of their strongholds have been rooted out."
Mark watched the departing prau with no little eagerness as he recalled accounts which he had read of attacks by pirates, poisoned krises, and goodly vessels plundered by the bloodthirsty men of Moslem creed, who looked upon the slaying of a Christian as a meritorious act.
As he gazed after the retiring prau, with its dusky crew, a vessel, similar in shape and size, and which had been lying close alongside of the _Petrel_, heaved up her anchor and set sail.
"Where are they likely to be going?" Mark asked.
"Trading among the islands. They are rare fellows for pus.h.i.+ng their way in a slow fas.h.i.+on, but are not such business people as the Chinese."
"One might have thought that this was China," said Mark, as he gazed ash.o.r.e at the celestial quarter, and noted the great junks manned by Chinamen lying anch.o.r.ed here and there.