"Of course," agreed they both, promptly.
Mackay looked pained.
"Ye shouldna concur wi' my statements so sudden like," said he. Then he endeavoured to get on to the rails again. "They got silted up wi' the sand after long disuse," he continued, "and they were only discovered and re-excavated some years back; but they are of service to show what an old civilization could do, and to prove that the climate was different then, for now ye could hardly droon a mosquito in a' the water they collect." He ceased, then murmured blandly, "This country is too hot for me to wax eloquent wi' ony modicum o' pleasure, or I wad go into geo-logical details concerning it."
"Is there anything you don't know, Mr. Mackay?" inquired Bob, with a smile.
"No' a thing. I'm a walkin' Encyclopædia—just burstin' wi' knowledge. No, I'm wrang; there's ane or twa metapheesical matters that beat me. I'll own to that frankly."
Then they returned to the ship, and amused themselves watching the dusky patriarchal vendors of ostrich feathers who had come on board, endeavouring to sell their wares. It particularly interested them to notice how cheerfully these dealers accepted finally less than a half of their first demands. The Somali diving boys with the strange yellow hair and the glistening teeth also attracted their attention. These youngsters, some of them maimed in horrible fashion, appealed to the sympathy of the passengers by singing in raucous chorus an aged and once popular London song. The authorities by this time had forbidden their wonted occupation owing to the multitudes of sharks infesting the exposed harbour. Early in the evening the Mongolia once more got under way, and, with her reduced passenger-list, headed for Colombo, the port of the spicy Isle of Ceylon.
Among the passengers bound for Australia was a middle-aged, wiry-looking personage named Carew, whose deeply browned face bore the unmistakable evidence of long years' sojourn in the tropics. Mackay had recognized him on the day of embarkation, but had studiously avoided him ever since.
"He's a famous New Guinea explorer," he informed Bob and Jack, "but he's a terrible talker, and I'm no vera willin' to be afflicted wi' his remarks."
Several times, nevertheless, the boys noticed that Carew always gazed doubtfully at Mackay when they chanced to meet on deck, and on each occasion that individual would reply with a stare of studied nonchalance. However, after leaving Aden, the passengers were so much reduced that they were all thrown into daily contact with each other, and occasionally Mackay found himself on the same side as Carew in the course of a cricket-match. But it was after they had left the Island of Socotra two days astern that any definite conversation passed between them. A match had just been concluded between the "Weary Wayfarers" and "The New Chums," two delightfully named opposing teams made up from the greatest travellers on board and the more or less untravelled community, and the "Weary Wayfarers" had been summarily defeated. Bob and Jack were shining lights at such contests, and Bob's bowling had on this occasion been mainly responsible for the downfall of the Wayfarers, while Jack on his part had made the top score of his side. Carew and Mackay were making a straight course for the smoke-room when the former gentleman broke out abruptly—