"Just like a lot of dabchicks," cried the doctor; "now we shall see them race for it. See the shilling, Jack?"
"Yes; here it goes."
"Yes, and here they come. Look at them. Why, they go down faster than the coin. It's wonderful."
Wonderful it was, for the dark little figures glided through the crystal water like seals, and every motion could be followed till the coin was reached and ceased to twinkle as it sank. Then once more the dark figures grew plainer and rose and rose, but somehow more and more astern, and Jack looked startled.
"Why, there must be a tremendous current here," he cried. "They're being swept away. A boat! a boat!"
The doctor looked as much startled as his companion, but a very gentle vibration enlightened them the next moment, for the engine was once more in motion, the screw revolving slowly, and the _Silver Star's_ prow was gradually coming round in answer to the helm, till she pointed straight for the open sea, where the throbbing and quivering of the vessel increased as she went easily ahead, and then faster still over the perfectly calm water, for there was not a breath of air.
Then away and away through the burning sunshine the yacht glided, with the sea glistening like damascened steel frosted with silver, till the mountains above the coaling port grew distant; and away over the burning Afric sands there was a wondrous orange glow which deepened into fire, vermilion, crimson, purple, and gold of the most refulgent hues, and soon after it was night. It seemed to Jack as he stood gazing forward that they were gliding on between two vast purply black basins studded with stars, which were larger and brighter than any he had seen before, while deeper and deeper in the wondrous depths there were more and more, till the farthest off seemed like clusters and patches of frosted gold.
There was not a breath of air when they went on deck after dinner, and with the exception of the throbbing and humming of the engine and propeller, and soft whish of the sea as it was divided and swept along the sides, all was wonderfully still. But the silence was soon after broken by a sharp call from somewhere forward, a clear musical voice rang out, and then, sounding very sweet and melodious on the soft air, the men began glee-singing, showing that they had good voices among them and no little knowledge of singing in parts. They were simple old glees and madrigals, and no doubt the surroundings helped, but Jack sat listening and thinking he had never heard music so sweet and beautiful before.
"Why, captain," said Sir John, "this is a surprise."
"Is it, sir? Hope you don't mind."
"Mind?" echoed Sir John and the doctor in a breath.
"Bartlett's fond of a bit of music, and he has a good voice too, but he is so precious modest you can't get him to sing alone; he's singing with the men though now. He trains them a bit when we're not busy, and they like it. Nothing pleases men like them more than singing in chorus; you see, they're most of them Cornish and Devon lads, and they take naturally to it. Many's the time I've heard the fishermen going out on calm evenings to their fishing-ground singing away in parts, so that you'd think that they had been well taught, and perhaps not one of them knowing a note of music."
The glee-singing went on for about an hour, and ceased as suddenly as it had begun. Then the watch was set, and after standing leaning over the bows gazing at the glittering stars reflected in the deep water, and seeing the phosphorescent creatures add to the lustre as they were disturbed by the yacht's prow, or some large fish darting away, Jack heaved a deep sigh and turned to go aft to the cabin.
"Unhappy, my boy?" said a voice at his elbow, which made the lad start and remain silent for a few moments, utterly unable to give expression to his feelings, before he said softly--
"No, father, not unhappy, but low-spirited and sad."
"Sad, my boy?" said Sir John.
"No, it isn't sad, because somehow, father, it makes me feel happy, and--and I can't explain it, but I never felt that I cared to stand and look at the sea and sky like this before. It seems so grand and beautiful, and as if--as if--"
"The great book of Nature was being opened to you for the first time, my boy. Yes; this wonderful soft air, this glorious star-lit heaven, and the silence of the ocean through which we are gliding, impress me too in a way I cannot explain. But tell me now, my boy, are you sorry we came?"
"Sorry!" cried Jack excitedly, as he caught at his father's arm. "No; glad."
That night the melody of one of the old West-country ditties the men had sung in parts seemed to lull Jack Meadows to rest, and he slept one of those deep healthy slumbers which give us the feeling when we awake on a bright sunny morning, that a strange vigour is running through our veins, and that it is a good thing to live.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
DOCTOR INSTOW PAINTS A PICTURE--WITH HIS TONGUE.
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."